In the Harry Potter Without Harry Potter

Chapter 470: Whose fault? (2 in 1)



What was being preserved in the Time Room was, of course, all time-related magic.

It is considered to be one of the magic that was once mastered by ancient wizards and could be utilised but has been lost in the modern magical world.

For example, the Time-Turner, an alchemical item that was once created around the fifteenth century, had lost its production method in modern times, and the existing Time-Turners that had survived had been damaged for no apparent reason.

It wasn't a false statement coming from within the Ministry of Magic, no one remained in the Time Room now, and even if the few purebloods who remained and looked like they were on patrol duty were around, Jon could play with the time-turner that had been casually discarded in the stands with impunity.

But no matter how much he tried to toggle the pointers on top of the time-turner, there was no reaction whatsoever in the surrounding area.

This leftover time-turner had indeed malfunctioned, no one knew the reason for the malfunctioning, and now even the technique of making this kind of alchemy item had been lost, not to mention repairing it.

In this regard, Jon only studied it for a while before he lost much interest in the time-turner and instead focused on those hourglasses in the room.

Unlike time-turners, which were pocket watch-type timekeeping devices, hourglasses were undoubtedly much more ancient.

Jon did not know what these hourglasses in the Time Room were used for, and he had no way of finding out since the various information within the Department of Mysteries had not been categorised and organised.

But at the very beginning when he saw those quicksands that kept sliding down in these hourglasses, Jon felt that they were very similar to the vial of golden sand that he got from Snape.

He had carefully observed these hourglasses for some time and found that even though they were constantly flowing, there was no sign of any decrease or increase in either the piles of sand that were drooping downwards from above or the piles of sand that were gathering below as if they were never drying up or regenerating.

But when Jon spent two days inside the Time Room, in which he also found a small hourglass, and made a careful comparison between the sand inside and the sand in the vial, he realised that there was an essential difference between the two.

The sand in the hourglass, although very delicate, when zoomed in, you can still clearly see the corners of the small sand grains, an obvious product of nature.

The sand in the vial was different, when Jon used a magnifying glass to observe the contents, he could clearly find that these fine sand-like grains were in fact not sand at all!

The surface of every small golden-coloured particle inside was smooth, it had no trace of natural product at all, and there was no trace of the texture of stone, rather than sand, it was more like artificially polished gold particles.

After thoroughly distinguishing the difference between the two, Jon also lost interest in those hourglasses.

In addition to the various clocks and hourglasses in the Time Room, Jon gazed at a hummingbird ornament for a long time.

The hummingbird went back and forth from hatching from an egg into a bird, and backwards from a bird into an egg, as if it is a biological hourglass, but specifying two representations of time, forward and backwards.

The advancement of time is well understood, every second of the moment that passes now represents the consumption and advancement of time, but regression is not a natural phenomenon.

The ornament, though marvellous, clearly had nothing to do with what Jon was looking for.

But other than that there was nothing else useful to be found in the Time Room, and the only thing still worth noting was that there was a sealed door on the side of the wall directly opposite to the door of the room.

The door was so hidden and had no handle on it that it would not have been noticed under normal circumstances if he had not been particularly observant.

It was just that although Jon had spotted it, there was nothing that could be done to open it, and if it hadn't been for the fact that he could clearly see the door's closure hinges through the cracks, then he might have had to suspect that it wasn't actually a door at all.

And after studying the door for some time, and even attracting the attention of some patrolling purebloods, Jon chose to temporarily abandon it.

At this time, he definitely could not do any destruction in the Department of Mysteries, and if he did not use violent means, he would not be able to understand the secret of this door for a while, just like the "love room" that no one was able to open.

Moreover, even if it was opened, there was no guarantee that what Jon was looking for was inside.

So Jon met with Slughorn and going to try another angle.

"You want to start reaching out to those people?" The expression on Slughorn's face solidified.

Jon nodded and said.

"The Department of Mysteries isn't small, and there are a lot of forbidden areas here that can't be opened up through conventional methods, so it's going to be hard to find what we're really looking for if we just keep looking blindly like this. Since this thing is related to the other Voldemort, and the people who remain in the Department of Mysteries now have all completely fallen to him and came here under his orders, it would be most convenient and effective to start with them."

On this point, Jon, who had already actually had a practical look at the various halls throughout the Department of Mysteries, indeed had more say than Slughorn.

After contemplating for a long time, Slughorn finally agreed.

"Well then, I'll find a chance to invite these purebloods working in this place to have a gathering at my house, and then agree to the invitation they extended to me."

However, he was only halfway through his sentence when Jon interrupted him.

"It's not you who accepts invitations, Teacher, it's me, and I'm much more suited to the task than you are. I know what you're worried about, you're afraid that if after agreeing to join their camp, they'll make us carve something like the Dark Mark on our bodies as proof of our servitude to Voldemort, then at that time, even if we turn back on our words on the spot, we'll still be riding a tiger."

Slughorn said seriously.

"That's why I'm more suitable, I'm already so old in the first place, Jon, even if at that time he makes me make a blood oath of never betraying, I can still agree to it calmly, the big thing is that after it's all over, I'll just head to somewhere in Europe to hide, and there's nothing this kind of constraint can do to me."

"But have you forgotten that I am not afraid of death, teacher." Jon looked him in the eyes, "You still need to find a place to hide when you're in this situation, I only need to die once. Even if it's a blood oath, it's supposed to be broken when a person dies and then comes back to life once more, right? And after I die, I'll at most become younger for a while, so why do I need you to risk your life now?"

Jon had a point, and Slughorn's mind hadn't really been spinning much.

For Jon who could already turn into a phoenix, all contracts are false, the nirvana of a phoenix is not only about the body but also the cleansing of the soul, no matter what kind of magic it is, it will be washed clean, no worries at all.

At this Slughorn could only smile helplessly.

"There are times when you're so excellent that I don't have the means to think with conventional thoughts."

It wasn't really Slughorn's fault, after all, Phoenix Animagus or whatever, it didn't seem like any kind of common sense in the magical world in any way, and he was trying to protect Jon from taking such risks as he could have blocked them off by himself.

After finalising who would go and make contact with those purebloods, Slughorn's plan from the start remained unchanged.

It was still up to him to invite those purebloods in the Department of Mysteries to a gathering at his home, where Jon would begin to express his displeasure with the current Voldemort to those purebloods that he had already mingled with, and then work his way down the line one step at a time.

Once the general plan was established, Slughorn didn't wait any longer.

It was during Jon's third week in his official position at the Department of Mysteries that Slughorn sent out invitations to every single one of the Department of Mysteries' mid-employees (there was really no way to call these straw men Unspeakable).

Although Slughorn joined Voldemort's side later, because of his Slytherin House's head identity, he has always been quite prestigious in the pureblood circle, plus he is good at socialising with people, all day long, he looks like a good old man, so when he holds a banquet, everyone will give him some respect even though now Britain has already been plunged into the quagmire of the war.

Besides, these purebloods in the Department of Mysteries had wanted to bring him to their side for a long time, not to mention the fact that no one would say no.

It was a dinner banquet, held in one of the manor houses that Voldemort had rewarded Slughorn with when he had thrown in the towel at the beginning.

Jon arrived before it was dark, Slughorn didn't have any house elves to prepare for the feast, but with his connections amongst the purebloods, it was easy to borrow a few random elves from a few of the old families to help out.

By late afternoon, the lawn of the manor had been set up with long tables filled with food, candles had begun to float in the air, and a half-blood band was playing soothing classical music on stage.

Jon took advantage of the fact that there were not many people arrived, he first casually pinched up a few pieces of fried prawns on the long table to pad his stomach, when the banquet began, he certainly could not be so casual.

As he was eating, someone tapped him on the shoulder from behind, and when Jon was about to hide the leftover prawn heads in his pocket seriously before turning back.

Slughorn's voice rang out from behind.

"Have you been reading the Daily Prophet lately?"

Jon had little consideration left at once as he repulsively re-pulled the shrimp head out of his pocket and tossed it on the lawn, then answered Slughorn's question in a whisper.

"No, I haven't subscribed to a newspaper yet, I was reading the others in the Department before."

"Albus and the others have been held at bay in their advance, Crouch himself led an ambush on a group preparing to attack the Carrows' manor and made some gains, the Daily Prophet is making a big deal out of it in the last couple of days, and they're already starting to say that it's the turning point for our defeat."

Jon's face became calmer.

"Something happened to any of us?"

"Two of our French companions are dead, and Lupin has been blinded in one eye, but fortunately there is a cure."

Hearing what Slughorn had said, Jon didn't bother to rejoice in the fact that thankfully no one from the Order of the Phoenix had died, it wasn't the Order of the Phoenix that was now fighting in Britain, it was the Witching Horizon as a whole.

There was no such thing as English wizards or French wizards, everyone was a comrade in arms who had been fighting for a single goal.

Jon narrowed his eyes, watching the growing number of purebloods arriving by Apparition on the lawn, he said softly.

"Then we'll have to move faster on our side as well."

Slughorn didn't reply to his remark anymore, a smile had returned to his face as he walked over towards the purebloods that had just arrived, followed by a chorus of laughter and pleasantries.

By this time, Jon had seen a couple of people he knew well from his time in the Department of Mysteries with a glass of wine in their hands, and he walked over to them as well.

"Hey Bartolo, Hunter, Eyna, how are you guys doing at home these days?"

It was a duo of two men and a woman, all from new school pureblood families, and didn't have the family names of the old sacred twenty-eight.

They looked at Jon, who was walking over, and both greeted him, the witch named Eyna with the burgundy curls whined.

"It's just like that, the liquor business in the family has been greatly affected, and now that our shipping channels have been cut off, there's simply no way to maintain it anymore unless we wait for the war to end."

Jon smiled as he clinked glasses with Eyna.

"I thought Mr Crouch had won a major victory?"

At his words, Hunter let out a dismissive snort.

"That's just what the Daily Prophet uses to fool ordinary people, do you really believe that just killing two enemies is a major victory? I see it more as Crouch running out of steam after all the preparations he made and gaining very little."

Bartolo looked at Jon and said with a teasing smile.

"Why are you so concerned about the situation? No matter how much the magical world changes, will your Ollivander family still be afraid of running out of wand business? That is unless all the wizards in the world die out."

Jon pretended to make a gesture a bitter smile.

"Business is business, as long as the war is still going on, our safety can't be guaranteed, can it? Who knows if there will ever be a day when the situation will be so pressing that they will send us into battle as well."

Eyna bristled.

"With the way the Ministry of Magic is posturing right now, it may not be out of the question."

Jon said ruefully.

"It's just since the beginning of this year, it seems like everything has changed, how come we're suddenly having such a hard time?"

His comment brightened the eyes of Hunter, the sharpest-minded of the three, and he asked tentatively.

"So Spike, have you ever wondered why that is?"

Both Bartolo and Eyna also reacted to the situation, and both of their attitudes suddenly became eager.

"That's right, there has to be a reason why things have evolved to this situation today, it's not like any of us have done anything, we've all been doing what we're told to do, so who on earth has caused such a situation to be corrupted step by step?"

Jon heard what they said and first froze, then suddenly became nervous and appalled.

"You guys aren't blaming that gentleman, are you!"

----

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