Hogwarts Advanced Guide

Chapter 119 Harry grounded in the Leaky Cauldron
Harry sat down, feeling goose bumps on his arms despite the fire.Fudge took off his pinstriped robes, threw them aside, then hastily pulled up the trousers of his dark green suit and sat down across from Harry.

Only then did Harry look at Fudge Connery in front of him. He looked like a stout little man, more like a powerlifter than the Minister of Magic.

"I am Connery Fudge, Harry, Minister for Magic."

Harry nodded. From his attitude towards Mr. Weasley just now, he could probably guess Fudge's identity.

It must be a senior official of the Ministry of Magic, but I didn't expect it to be the Minister of Magic.

That's the most powerful person in the Ministry of Magic!
Tom the barman reappeared with tea and toast on a tray.He placed the tray on the table between Fudge and Harry, and left the booth, closing the door behind him.

"Well, Harry," said Fudge, pouring out the tea, "I'm not afraid you know, you've got us all in a panic. Running out of your uncle's and aunt's like that! It's all Weasley's fault! How dare they modify a Muggle car? But you're safe, that's all that matters." Fudge buttered his own toast and pushed the plate towards Harry.

"Eat, Harry, you look lifeless. Now... you'll be glad to hear how we resolved the case of you driving a car through London in the middle of the night, and two members of the Contingency Reversal Division were ordered to Privet Drive. They altered the memories of your aunt and uncle, and they recovered, and they don't remember the incident. It was a cover-up, no harm done." Fudge smiled at Harry from the edge of his teacup, like an uncle looking at a beloved nephew.

Harry couldn't believe his ears, it was clearly his uncle and aunt who kept him locked up in the room, should he still be blamed?
Doesn't the wizarding world have a "Law for the Protection of Minors"?

"Well, I don't deny that they are extremely angry. After all, memories cannot be created and erased out of thin air, and even we—can only modify them to a certain extent. However, Harry, as long as you stay at Hogwarts for Christmas and Easter, they are going to let you go back next summer."

"Ha, I have to go back!" Harry muttered under his breath.

"what?"

"Nothing, sir, you continue."

"Here, here, I know what you're thinking, but trust me, boy, when you're older I'm sure you won't think so," said Fudge, in a worried tone, "they're your family after all, and I'm sure you -- oh -- love each other deep down."

Harry pursed his lips, he didn't want to correct Fudge, he was still waiting to hear what to do with him.

Fudge brought him here, definitely not simply wanting to talk to him about these things.

Sure enough, Fudge got straight to the point, as if he didn't want to waste too much time on this topic.

"Then all that remains," said Fudge, buttering his second scone again, "is where you spend the remaining weeks of your holiday. Suggest you take a room at the Leaky Cauldron, and—"

"Wait a minute," said Harry quickly, "can't I be at the Weasleys?"

"Oh, dear boy, you must be on guard!" Fudge exclaimed, impatiently waving his pancake. "I don't want to talk to you about heavy topics, child, but you must recognize the current situation. It is by no means something you can deal with. Even in the Weasleys, it is not safe."

Harry listened to these words, but he didn't believe them at all. He just felt that being at Ron's house was very timely, and the two weeks he had spent before were simply the happiest time in his life.

"But, I was at the Weasley's the last two weeks." Harry said, frowning.

Fudge interrupted Harry with a wave of his hand, "Situations change frequently. In Harry's current situation, what we have to consider is that you definitely want to be able to board the Hogwarts Express on September 9st, right?"

"Of course," said Harry.

"Okay, then you can stay at the Leaky Cauldron without worry." Fudge laughed easily. "Here, a piece of toast, Harry. Let me go find Tom and get you a house."

Fudge walked out of the booth, and Harry stared after him.Something particularly unusual must be happening.

Why did Fudge go to Diagon Alley to find him?
And it occurred to Harry that it must have been unusual for the Minister for Magic himself to be involved in something, even to the point of making him sputter and swear.

Fudge is back, along with Tom the pub owner.

"Room No. 11 is empty, Harry," said Fudge. "I think you'd be very comfortable living there. Only one thing, and I think you'll understand: you don't want to wander around in Muggle London, okay? Just stay in Diagon Alley and have to come back before dark every day. You must understand why, and Tom will keep an eye out for you for me."

"Okay," Harry said slowly, trying to look like he didn't know anything.But in fact, he really didn't know anything.

"But why?"

"Don't want to lose you again, don't we?" Fudge laughed heartily, "No, no we better know where you are I mean" Fudge cleared his throat loudly and picked up his pinstriped robe. "Okay, I'm leaving, I'm busy, you know."

"Do you have any news about Sirius Black?" Harry still couldn't help asking.

Then he visibly noticed that the smile on Fudge's face froze, and Fudge's fingers scratched the silver buttons of his robes.

"What do you mean? Oh, you heard—well, no, not yet, but it's only a matter of time. The guards in Azkaban have never failed before and they're terribly annoyed, more than ever I know." Fudge trembled a little, as if recalling his trip to Azkaban a few days ago.

"Then I'll say goodbye." He held out his hand, and Harry shook it.

Fudge smiled at Harry, shook hands firmly again, and left the room.

So Tom stepped forward and smiled at Harry, "Mr. Potter, please come with me," said Tom, "I have already moved all your things up."

Harry followed Tom up a beautiful wooden staircase, and came to a room with a brass sign at the door indicating that it was No. 11. Tom opened the door for Harry and opened the door.

Harry sat on the bed, he knew that he would most likely face this room in the days to come.

For the rest of the holidays, Ron and Fred and George never played with him again.

(End of this chapter)