Chapter 194 Hermione's Despair
A question suddenly popped into Charlie's mind.
Why hadn't his own memory been erased?
[Ahem! Your Majesty doesn't need to remember this servant's good deeds; it's what this servant ought to do.]
The System suddenly popped out.
Charlie didn't have time to deal with its antics, but he understood the general reason.
He was originally a transmigrator, crossing over from another world to this one. The difficulty of this inter-world crossing was far greater than time travel.
The fact that he hadn't been erased by the world's will must be partly due to the System.
Precisely because his soul did not belong to this world, when the temporal correction occurred, everyone else's memories were erased, but his remained intact.
"Principal, is there a way to bring her back?" Charlie looked up.
Dumbledore shook his head:
"I am very sorry, Charlie, I do not know either."
"If time and space have already begun correcting, then this process is irreversible."
"But how time and space will correct themselves, and what the result of that correction will be, no one can know."
Charlie fell silent.
Although he usually complained about Hermione's nagging, when it came down to a situation like this, Charlie could not stand idly by.
Furthermore, a large part of the reason Hermione was so busy was because of his assignments.
If she hadn't been helping him write his assignments, Hermione would not have overused the time-turner.
He was responsible for this matter.
Charlie stood up, his gaze becoming calm. He needed to find her, alive or dead.
"Principal, may I apply for a time-turner?"
Dumbledore shook his head:
"Charlie, the time-turner is strictly restricted by the Ministry of Magic. Hogwarts students can only be approved to use it when their coursework is too heavy and they cannot complete it."
"The time for course selection has long passed now." He paused.
"According to regulations, you cannot apply."
Charlie did not back down:
"But I must save her."
"This makes things very difficult." Dumbledore stood up, walked to the window, and turned his back to Charlie.
"The Ministry of Magic will not take a time-turner out of the Department of Mysteries at this time. Those items are locked in the deepest recesses, and no one is allowed to touch them without a special reason."
He turned around, his blue eyes looking at Charlie through his half-moon spectacles.
"You know the rules of the Ministry of Magic, Charlie," Dumbledore said, blinking his eye, causing a fine wrinkle to appear at the corner of it.
"The door to the Department of Mysteries is only ever open to authorized personnel."
Charlie was stunned for a moment.
Dumbledore added: "Of course, while the protective magic on that door is complex, for certain exceptionally gifted Wizards..." He paused briefly,
"Perhaps it is not entirely impossible to breach. However, as Principal, I absolutely cannot encourage such behavior."
Charlie immediately understood. Who said this old man was the White Wizard King? Wasn't he a little bit dark?
The Department of Mysterieshe was determined to break in...
The moment the time-turner exploded, Hermione subconsciously closed her eyes.
The anticipated pain did not arrive.
She opened her eyes. The library was still the library, the sky outside the window hadn't changed, and the open book on the table remained on the same page.
The only change was that the time-turner in her hand had shattered into golden dust, slipping through her fingers.
"Madam Pince?" Hermione ventured tentatively.
Madam Pince walked past the bookshelf, her gaze sweeping over Hermione without stopping, and continued walking.
Hermione froze. She stood up, walked in front of Madam Pince, and waved her hand in front of her.
There was no reaction.
Madam Pince walked straight past her as if she could not see her, even passing through her outstretched arm.
The feeling was strange; it wasn't a physical collision but an ethereal penetration.
Hermione's breathing quickened. She turned and rushed out of the library, running all the way back to the Gryffindor common room.
the fat lady's portrait was dozing, and Hermione walked right through itshe could actually pass through walls.
In the common room, Harry and Ron were sitting by the fireplace playing chess.
"Harry! Ron!" Hermione rushed up to them.
Neither of them looked up.
"Ron, your Rook is about to be taken," Harry reminded him.
"I see it," Ron stared at the board. "I'm thinking of a counter-move."
Hermione stood in front of them and reached out to grab Ron's chess piece. Her fingers passed straight through the white Knight, just like passing through a puff of air.
She took a step back and bumped into the sofa behind her. But the sofa did not exist for her; she passed right through it and fell onto the floor.
No, she passed through the floor, suspended in mid-air.
Hermione struggled in panic, then realized she could control this state.
She thought about standing on the floor, and her body regained support.
She squatted on the ground, hugging her knees, forcing herself to calm down.
Don't panic, there must be a way. Harry and Ron couldn't see her, but they would eventually realize she was missing.
Then the school would send people to search, Dumbledore would figure something out, and everything would be fine.
Hermione waited in the common room all night.
The next day, Harry and Ron woke up, washed, ate breakfast, and went to class. Throughout the entire process, no one mentioned her name.
The third day, the fourth day, the fifth day.
No one looked for her except Charlie.
No one asked where she had gone. Even Professor McGonagall, who was usually the strictest, did not call her in for a discussion about her absence from class.
The fact that Charlie still remembered her excited her for a moment.
But she quickly realized it was useless; no matter who Charlie mentioned her to, the result was the same.
This made her even more despairing.
Hermione stood among the crowd, watching her classmates pass through her body, listening to them discuss homework, Quidditch, and Hogsmeade Village. No one remembered her.
She wanted to go home.
As soon as the thought arose, the scene before her changed.
Hermione stood in front of a house in the suburbs of London; it was her parents' home. Before she could react to how she had gotten there, she pushed open the dooror rather, passed through the door.
In the living room, her mother was organizing photo albums.
Hermione walked over and looked at the photos in the album. Family portraits, birthday parties, seaside vacations... In every photo, there were only her mother and father; she had vanished.
She hadn't been torn out or scribbled over, but had simply never existed in the first place.
"Mum..." Hermione's voice trembled.
Her mother turned a page and continued organizing.
Hermione knelt on the floor, looking at the photos. She wanted to cry, but tears wouldn't fall. She wanted to scream, but no sound could escape. She wanted to smash something, but her hand passed through the coffee table, the vase, and the photo frame.
This was worse than death.
She could see this world, perceive everything, yet she could not touch, communicate, or prove that she had ever existed.
Hermione did not know how long she had knelt on the floor. By the time she came to her senses, it was already dark.
Charlie.
She suddenly remembered that Charlie still remembered her. Only Charlie had mentioned her name to Harry and Ron.
Hermione closed her eyes, thinking about returning to Hogwarts.
The next second, she was standing in the corridor outside the Principal's office.
"...Principal, may I apply for a time-turner?"
It was Charlie's voice.
Hermione passed through the wall and entered the office.
Charlie stood in front of Dumbledore, his expression serious.
"...The door to the Department of Mysteries is only ever open to authorized personnel," Dumbledoresaid, blinking his eye.
"Of course, while the protective magic on that door is complex, for certain exceptionally gifted Wizards... perhaps it is not entirely impossible to breach. However, as Principal, I absolutely cannot encourage such behavior."
Hermione stood rooted to the spot, staring intently at Charlie's back.
He was going to the Department of Mysteries. He was going to save her.
She still had hope.
Chapter 195 Infiltrating the Bureau of Mysterious Matters
Charlie left the Principal's office and Apparated to the Gryffindor common room.
He had no time to hesitate, nor to formulate any meticulous plans. Hermione's condition was unknown; every second could be the last chance.
In the Gryffindor Tower common room, Harry was sitting by the fireplace, flipping through "QuidditchThrough the Ages."
Ron was slumped over a table, writing his Potion Class homework, looking miserable.
"Harry." Charlie walked up to him.
"Lend me your invisibility cloak."
Harry looked up, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.
He closed the book, didn't ask why, and stood up directly: "Wait for me."
Three minutes later, Harry came down from the dormitory with a bundle of silver fabric and handed it to Charlie.
"Be careful." Harry lowered his voice.
"Whatever you're going to do."
Charlie nodded, turned, and left.
Ron looked up, watching Charlie's back disappear at the doorway: "What's he going to do?"
"I don't know." Harry sat back down.
"But if even Charlie needs to use an invisibility cloak, it can't be a small matter."
Charlie returned to his dormitory, put on the invisibility cloak, and his figure instantly vanished from the room.
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and recalled the appearance of the Ministry of Magic.
"Apparition!"
The last time he went to receive an award, he remembered that the Ministry of Magic was located beneath a street in central London, with the entrance being a dilapidated red telephone booth.
The longer the Apparition distance, the higher the difficulty and the heavier the burden on the Wizard.
Apparating from Hogwarts to London would be impossible for an ordinary Wizard.
Crossing the distance from Scotland to London, even a slight deviation midway would tear him to shreds. But Charlie's magic was already far beyond ordinary people, and this level of Apparition only made him feel a little tired.
The oppressive feeling of Apparition dissipated, and Charlie stood on a street in central London.
The dilapidated red telephone booth was ahead, and the street was empty at night.
If possible, he would have preferred to Apparate directly inside the Ministry of Magic.
However, the Ministry of Magic had anti-Apparition protective magic, and those without authorization could not Apparate in.
Charlie did not have Ministry of Magic authorization, so he could only enter normally through the telephone booth.
So he leaned against the wall next to the telephone booth and waited.
Many Wizards came and went from the Ministry of Magic every day, so someone was bound to enter or exit. Ten minutes later, a man in a suit walked over.
He looked very tired, yawned, and entered the telephone booth.
Charlie followed him in.
The space inside the telephone booth was small; Charlie stood pressed against the wall. The Wizardpicked up the receiver and dialed a number.
"Ministry of Magic, visitors please state your purpose."
"Night shift, Department for the Regulation and Control of magical creatures."
"Thank you, please wear your badge."
A silver badge dropped from the coin return slot, inscribed with "Night Staff." The Wizard pinned on the badge, and the telephone booth began to descend.
Charlie held his breath; the invisibility cloak concealed his form, but if the other person suddenly turned around, they would still collide.
Fortunately, the Wizard was exhausted, keeping his head down and rubbing his temples the entire time until the elevator stopped.
"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic, have a pleasant night's work."
The Wizard rolled his eyes, not looking very pleased.
The telephone booth door opened, and the Wizard stepped out.
Charlie followed him, entering the Ministry of Magic's atrium.
From the moment he stepped into the Ministry of Magic, the system began to relentlessly pop up alerts. Annoyed, Charlie muted the system's notification sound.
The Ministry of Magic at night was much quieter than during the day.
There were only a few scattered Wizards moving around in the atrium. In the center stood a giant golden statue—a Wizard seated on a throne, with a Witch standing beside him, and House-elves, Centaurs, and Goblins at their feet.
The Centaurs, Goblins, and House-elves all looked at the two Wizards with adoration.
It was clearly the Ministry of Magic's wishful thinking, with all races subservient to Wizards.
Charlie stood still, recalling what Dumbledore had said.
The Department of Mysteries was in the deepest part of the Ministry of Magic, on the ninth level.
He looked towards the golden gate at the end of the atrium, which was the entrance to the elevators for all levels.
Charlie walked into the elevator and pressed the button for the ninth level.
The elevator doors slowly closed and began to descend. Outside the golden gate, the Ministry of Magicatrium gradually moved upwards, disappearing from view.
But soon, the elevator stopped on the fifth level.
Charlie immediately pressed himself against the corner of the elevator, holding his breath.
Two Ministry of Magic employees in dark robes entered. One was yawning, the other carried a briefcase, looking utterly weary.
"Tonight's meeting was killer," complained the Wizard with the briefcase.
"Tell me about it," the yawning Wizard rubbed his eyes, responding casually.
They entered the elevator, their gaze sweeping over the button panel.
"Huh?" The Wizard with the briefcase paused.
"Who pressed the ninth level?"
The yawning Wizard glanced at it, shrugging: "Someone probably pressed it by mistake."
"Right." The Wizard with the briefcase pressed the button for the first level.
"Besides those Unspeakables, who wants to go down there."
"I heard some things in there are very dangerous." The yawning Wizard lowered his voice.
"Last time a new recruit accidentally touched something and was sent straight to St Mungo's for three months."
The two men's conversation echoed in the elevator.
Charlie stood in the corner; the invisibility cloak perfectly concealed his figure.
The elevator continued to descend and soon reached the ninth level.
"Ding—"
The elevator doors opened, and the corridor was pitch black.
Charlie didn't hesitate and walked directly out of the elevator.
"Close the door, close the door quickly." The Wizard with the briefcase immediately pressed the close button, afraid something might crawl out of the darkness.
The elevator doors closed, and the sound of it ascending gradually faded away.
Charlie stood in the corridor of the ninth level; the surroundings were eerily silent. Torches on the walls cast flickering shadows, but could only illuminate a small circle around them. It was as if the darkness was too dense for even light to penetrate.
Ahead was a large black door, without any markings or a doorknob.
Charlie walked up and pushed the door. Unexpectedly, it opened directly.
This even surprised Charlie; he had originally thought the Department of Mysteries' door would have complex protective magic, and at least require some effort to break through.
But it opened with just a push.
Dumbledore didn't lie; for some talented Wizards, it really wasn't difficult to break through.
Even an ordinary person could break through this.
Charlie stepped inside the door.
Before him was a circular atrium, with walls, floor, and ceiling all black.
There was no one in the atrium, and twelve identical doors lined the perimeter, each black and without any markings.
Charlie stood in the center of the atrium and turned around.
Twelve doors.
Which one held the time-turner?
Chapter 196 Time Converter Acquired
Charlie recalled the conversation between the two Wizards just now; they had mentioned Unspeakables.
There should be staff in the Department of Mysteries, and since the main hall was empty, they could only be behind these twelve doors.
He chose the nearest door and pushed it open.
The room contained several tables, and in the center stood a giant glass tank filled with green liquid.
Floating in the liquid were several pink, wrinkled objects, resembling human brains.
Two figures in grey robes stood before the tank, holding quills and recording something.
The door suddenly opened, and they sharply turned their heads, eyes wide.
But they saw nothing.
While they were momentarily stunned, Charlie raised his hand, and two invisible streams of magic shot out.
"Imperio!"
The eyes of the two Unspeakables instantly became vacant, and their quills dropped to the floor.
"Are the time-turners here?" Charlie asked directly.
The Unspeakable on the left spoke mechanically:
"This is the Brain Room, for studying the nature of mind and thought. The time-turners are in the Time Room."
"Take me there."
The two turned and walked out of the room, Charlie following behind. They passed through the circular hall and stopped before a door on the opposite side. One of them raised a hand and knocked.
"Knock, knock, knock."
Footsteps came from inside the door, which opened a crack, and a middle-aged Wizard wearing glasses peered out.
"What is it? Nacho."
"Oh, Chris, we have a bit of an emergency over there, could you come out and take a look?"
Under the control of the Imperio, Nacho calmly tried to lure Chris out.
Chris was about to speak when he suddenly froze.
Something in the air was wrong.
His gaze passed over the two and looked at the space behind the door. There was nothing there, but his intuition was screaming a warning.
"You—"
Before he could finish, a magical blast hit him in the chest.
The middle-aged Wizard's eyes instantly lost focus, and his body stiffened, struck by the Imperio.
Charlie walked into the Time Room and closed the door.
The room was much larger than the Brain Room, with a ceiling so high it couldn't be seen. Clocks of all kinds hung on the surrounding walls, ticking incessantly.
In the center of the room was a huge glass cabinet, neatly displaying eight golden time-turners, each faintly glowing.
Charlie was about to reach for a time-turner when Chris suddenly spoke.
"Stop! My master."
Charlie turned to look at him.
Chris said solemnly:
"Once these time-turners leave the cabinet without being reported, an alarm will immediately sound. The entire ninth floor will be locked down, all entrances and exits closed, and no one will be able to leave."
Charlie's hand paused in mid-air.
"Is there a way to deactivate the alarm?"
Chris shook his head:
"The use of time-turners requires the signature and approval of the Head of the Department of Mysteries; only the Head's wand can deactivate the alarm system."
Charlie frowned.
If the alarm was triggered, he wouldn't be able to Apparate away, and would have to fight his way out. But he was here to steal, and if he caused too much disruption, paralyzing the Ministry of Magic, Dumbledore would definitely be furious.
Although the old man supported him in saving Hermione, he would never allow him to turn the Ministry of Magic upside down.
Wait... Charlie suddenly thought of something, his eyes lighting up.
Getting furious is good.
If Dumbledore gets furious, wouldn't that bring tyrant points?
He looked at the time-turners in the glass cabinet, a slight smile playing on his lips.
"Chris, if the alarm sounds, how many people will the Ministry of Magic send?"
"All on-duty Aurors, at least twenty. And support from other departments, fifty Wizards will arrive on the ninth floor within five minutes."
Charlie nodded.
Fifty people, sounds like a lot.
But the number of Wizards he would face simultaneously wouldn't be exaggerated. Moreover, he still had the invisibility cloak, allowing him to use guerrilla tactics.
Thinking this, Charlie reached out and took all eight time-turners into his possession.
[No! The little system must speak! This time the quantity is large! Your Majesty's blatant seizure earns +100 tyrant points!]
Accompanying the system's prompt, a piercing alarm instantly blared throughout the entire ninth floor.
Red lights flashed from the walls, and the outermost door clicked shut with a locking sound.
Charlie turned to the three Unspeakables under the Imperio.
"You all fall to the ground and pretend to be unconscious, don't let them discover you're under the Imperio."
If the Ministry of Magic later discovered someone was under the Imperio, old Dumbledore would know that he had used an Unforgivable Curse on Ministry of Magic personnel.
Charlie just wanted to earn some tyrant points; he didn't want to be humanely eliminated by Dumbledore.
Regarding Dumbledore, Charlie could never see through him; every time they met, he felt the other party was unfathomable.
It was safer to develop discreetly for now, absolutely no showing off.
The three Unspeakables obediently fell to the ground, closing their eyes.
At this moment, the Unspeakables from the other ten doors were the first to react.
Hurried footsteps came from the circular hall; Charlie heard at least seven or eight people rushing towards the Time Room.
The first Unspeakable pushed the door open, and what met his eyes were his three colleagues lying on the ground.
He cautiously raised his wand, his gaze sweeping every corner of the room.
"Who's here? Come out!"
What responded to him was a silent Stupefy.
The man didn't even have time to react, his body went limp, and he collapsed directly in the doorway.
The Unspeakables outside the door froze for a second, then simultaneously raised their wands and unleashed a barrage of Spells into the room.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
"Impedimenta!"
"Stupefy!"
Various colored Spell lights intertwined and flew into the room, hitting the walls and leaving charred marks.
Charlie, hiding behind the glass cabinet, waved his wand.
The tables, chairs, clocks, and decorations in the room instantly twisted and deformed.
Wooden table legs grew sharp claws, metal clock pendulums turned into fangs, and in the blink of an eye, dozens of grey wolves were born from various objects.
They let out low growls, their eyes glowing eerily, and rushed out the door together.
"What—"
The Unspeakable outside the door couldn't finish his sentence before he was engulfed by the surging pack of wolves.
Each person was surrounded by at least five or six grey wolves, their sharp claws tearing at robes, their fangs biting at arms.
These Transfigured creations felt no pain; if one was shattered, several others immediately took its place.
"This is Transfiguration? How are there so many?"
"Is the intruder not just one person?"
"What are the people upstairs doing, letting so many people sneak into the ninth floor unnoticed!"
The Unspeakables couldn't bother with Charlie in the room; they could only deal with the wolf pack before them.
Charlie seized the chaos to flash out from behind the door, his invisibility cloak concealing his figure, his wand tracing an arc in the air.
Innumerable Stunning Spells erupted from the tip of his wand, covering the entire circular hall like a torrential downpour.
When poor, strike precisely; when rich, cover saturatedly.
The Unspeakables still entangled with the grey wolves couldn't dodge at all, falling one after another.
Some tried to cast a Shield Charm, but the dense Spells directly penetrated the protection, knocking them unconscious to the ground.
In less than five seconds, over a dozen Unspeakables were all down.
The grey wolves lost their targets, wandered around the hall for a few circles, and eventually turned into piles of sawdust and metal fragments, scattered across the floor.
All the Unspeakables were knocked down, but Charlie knew the matter was far from over.
The Ministry of Magic's alarm was still sounding, red lights flashing continuously. People from the upper floors would quickly gather, and it wouldn't be long before he was cornered here.
Charlie didn't hesitate, raising his wand from a distance, aiming at the black door of the Department of Mysteries.
"Confringo!"
He held nothing back, channeling his magic into his wand at maximum power.
The wand even trembled with excitement from being completely filled.
Boom—
A terrifying red light flashed, the black door was instantly blown to pieces, the entire ninth floor trembled violently, the torches on the walls were completely extinguished, and the aftershock scattered them. Cracks appeared in the ceiling, and rubble rained down.
Charlie, enduring the aftershock of the explosion, rushed to the elevator shaft.
He cast a flying Spell on himself, and his body immediately rose into the air, rapidly ascending along the elevator shaft.
This flying Spell wasn't any special incantation, just a variation of the Levitation Charm.
However, very few people could achieve this.
Along the way, Charlie saw people jumping down from every floor.
Those Wizards in Ministry of Magic uniforms, one by one, whizzed past him, their faces filled with anxiety and anger.
"Quick! Something happened on the ninth floor!"
"Damn it, who dares to break into the Department of Mysteries?"
"Where are the Aurors? Where are the Aurors?"
Under the cover of the invisibility cloak, Charlie swept past them like a gust of wind.
Normally, such rapid movement, even while invisible, would reveal clues.
But now, a violent explosion had just occurred on the ninth floor, and everyone was rushing downwards, so even if someone noticed something, they would only take it as airflow caused by the explosion, or a collision from colleagues rushing.
Charlie quickly headed to the first floor.
The chaos in the elevator shaft made his movements even smoother; no one noticed an invisible person moving against the flow.
Finally, Charlie burst out of the elevator shaft and landed on the marble floor of the first floor.
The main hall was now in disarray.
Several Wizards on night duty were frantically running to the lower floors, and others were using their wands to send out emergency notifications.
Charlie didn't stop, heading directly for the elevator leaving the Ministry of Magic.
At that moment, a hurried voice came from deep within the elevator shaft.
"Wait! Everyone, attention!"
An older Auror gripped the edge of the elevator shaft, shouting down.
"The intruder likely used invisibility magic! Everyone immediately put on anti-invisibility devices!"
"Activate the anti-invisibility magic array immediately!" another voice rang out.
"Damn it, why did we only think of it now!"
Confused footsteps echoed on every floor; some began rummaging through lockers, searching for anti-invisibility gear.
Charlie couldn't help but sigh, there were still smart people in the Ministry of Magic. The explosion had just happened, and they had realized the problem of invisible infiltration so quickly.
Unfortunately, it was too late.
Charlie had already boarded the elevator leaving the Ministry of Magic.
It must be said, Harry's invisibility cloak was truly effective.
Without detection devices, as long as he didn't make contact with anyone, there wasn't a single flaw.
The elevator doors slowly closed behind him.
In the ground floor lobby, a Wizard suddenly froze; he watched the elevator doors close, but the elevator was empty.
"Who is it? Who's in the elevator!"
His shout instantly drew the attention of others.
"Quick! Lock down the elevator!"
"Don't let him escape!"
Several Wizards rushed to the elevator, their wands aimed at the ascending elevator shaft.
Charlie smiled faintly. Locking down the elevator was also too late. As soon as he was outside the Ministry of Magic's range, he could Apparate away.
"Click."
The elevator stopped at the ground level.
Charlie stepped out of the telephone booth, about to Apparate, when a steady voice suddenly came from behind him.
"Don't move, kid."
Charlie's movements paused.
"Leaving the Ministry of Magic wrapped in an invisibility cloak at this time is highly suspicious," the voice continued.
"Take off the invisibility cloak and let me see who you are."
Chapter 197 Moody's Magic Eye
Charlie's heart tightened. Could this person see him through the invisibility cloak?
However, judging by his tone, he didn't seem to have gotten a clear look at Charlie.
"Put down your wand and put your hands up." The voice carried a hint of impatience.
"Don't think you can get away. No one escapes my sight."
To lower the opponent's guard, Charlie slowly raised his hands.
When the person saw that Charlie's hands were empty, he visibly relaxed a little.
Just then, people from the Ministry of Magic chased after them, and hurried footsteps sounded from the direction of the telephone booth.
"Mr. Moody, did you catch him?"
Moody opened his mouth to reply: "I got him—"
Now!
Charlie seized the moment of his distraction and wordlessly and wandlessly cast Lumos.
The Spell, normally only used for illumination, was blindingly bright in Charlie's hands, like the sun.
A dazzling white light instantly erupted, turning the entire street into daylight.
"Ah!"
The surrounding Wizards screamed in unison, covering their eyes.
Moody reacted the fastest, closing his right eye the moment the white light appeared, but his left eye, a magical prosthetic eye, could not be closed.
The blinding light poured directly into the eye that could see through everything.
"Damn it!" Moody roared, pointing his wand at Charlie's original location, and a red light shot out.
But Charlie had rolled to the side the moment he cast the Spell. The Spell flew past the edge of the invisibility cloak, blasting a scorched pit in the ground.
Charlie glanced back.
Moody's right eye was tightly shut, his left hand covered the magical prosthetic eye, and the scars on his face looked particularly ferocious under the streetlights.
Charlie guessed that it must have been that eye that saw through the invisibility cloak.
"Don't let him run!"
The Wizards from the Ministry of Magic all raised their wands, but their eyes were injured by the intense light, and they couldn't find Charlie.
Charlie hesitated no longer. With a thought, his figure instantly vanished from the spot.
The loud crack of Apparition echoed down the street.
Moody slowly lowered the hand covering his eye. The magical prosthetic eye spun wildly, trying to track Charlie's movements.
But it was too late... Late at night, in the Headmaster's Office.
The flames in the fireplace suddenly swelled up, bursting into a shower of red sparks.
Dumbledore was holding a cup of hot cocoa, preparing to enjoy a rare moment before sleep. Seeing the change in the flames, he sighed and put down the cup.
"Is something important happening this late?" Dumbledore gathered his dressing gown around him.
"Disturbing an old man's sleep is not a good thing, Fudge."
Fudge's face appeared in the flames, his forehead covered in sweat, and his hair messy.
"Dumbledore! Something terrible has happened!" Fudge's voice was urgent.
"Someone broke into the Ministry of Magic and stole the time-turners!"
Dumbledore's heart stirred.
It seemed Charlie had understood his meaning. He was very clever.
He maintained his composure, and the blue eyes behind his spectacles twinkled: "Did you catch the person?"
"No, the person was wearing an invisibility cloak. Moody spotted him, but he escaped."
"Do you have any suspects?"
Fudge sighed.
"Still none. Moody only saw a back, and invisibility cloaks are sold in many places, making it difficult to determine who it was."
"What is the extent of the Ministry of Magic's losses?"
"The losses are severe!" Fudge's face was flushed red in the firelight.
"All the time-turners were stolen! Not a single one remains!"
Dumbledore picked up his hot cocoa and blew on it lightly.
All of them?
He was slightly surprised, but it was also expected. Taking a few extra time-turners was better safe than sorry.
Dumbledore was unconcerned about Fudge's claim of severe losses.
Charlie was generally sensible in his actions; he probably wouldn't have caused too much of a stir.
Fudge took a deep breath: "The door to the Department of Mysteries was blown up! The whole door!"
Dumbledore's hand paused.
"Many facilities in the twelve halls were affected by the blast's aftermath," Fudge continued.
"More than a dozen Obliviators were injured and knocked unconscious. They are currently still lying in St Mungo's."
A few drops of hot cocoa spilled onto his dressing gown.
Dumbledore was silent for a few seconds.
It seemed he wasn't very sensible after all... In the dormitory, Justin and Ernie were sound asleep, their snores rising and falling.
A faint crack sounded, and Charlie Apparated back to his bedside.
He had randomly Apparated to more than a dozen locations outside, flying several kilometers before each Apparition to ensure the Ministry of Magic could not track him.
Charlie sat on the bed and pulled the golden time-turner from his robes.
Moonlight streamed through the window, shining on the delicate hourglass.
Tiny golden sand grains flowed slowly inside the glass tube, emitting a faint glow.
He recalled Dumbledore's words in his office—that it was the energy of the time-turner that protected those traveling through time from being erased by the rules.
Hermione's time-turner likely ran out of energy, which led to the accident.
Charlie turned the time-turner in his hand, rapidly considering possible solutions in his mind.
The most direct method would be to use a time-turner to go back to the day Hermione disappeared and replenish her energy.
But this idea was almost impossible to execute.
Firstly, he had no idea when Hermione disappeared. Was it in a classroom? In the Library? Or in some deserted corridor? And what time? Morning or evening?
Secondly, the safe travel limit for a time-turner was only five hours. But Hermione had been gone for days. If he actually used a time-turner to travel back, would he even be able to return?
Finally, how could he replenish Hermione's energy? Would giving her a new time-turner work directly?
These were all problems.
Compared to the sheer number of problems, the time available was pitifully short.
Charlie rubbed his temples.
Although tonight's mission was successful, the real challenges were just beginning.
He tucked the time-turner into his robes and lay down on the bed.
Exhaustion quickly washed over him.
Traveling from Hogwarts to the Ministry of Magic today, and then escaping all the way back from the Ministry of Magic, had been physically draining.
His consciousness gradually blurred, and Charlie fell into a deep sleep.
Chapter 198 Rescuing Hermione
Early the next morning, Charlie rushed straight to the Headmaster's Office, intending to consult Dumbledore for his opinion.
What?
Wasn't he afraid Dumbledore would explode over yesterday's events?
Let him explode, Dumbledore was the one who sent us, we're in the right, what is there to fear?
Arriving at the entrance to the Headmaster's Office, Charlie asked the gargoyle to open the door.
Today's password was "Giant Cockroach Pile."
It was hard to imagine Dumbledore eating giant cockroaches.
The gargoyle didn't move.
Charlie frowned, "Did the password change?"
The gargoyle glanced at him, "The Headmaster is not here.
He went to the Ministry of Magic to handle some matters."
Charlie understood immediately; it was likely about yesterday's events.
"However, the Headmaster asked me to tell you," the gargoyle said slowly.
"He doesn't particularly want to see you right now.
Just go do whatever you need to do."
Charlie frowned.
If I knew what I should do next, why would I come and ask you?
That rotten old man, unreliable at the critical moment.
Charlie stood at the entrance for a moment, thought about it, and decided to go to the Great Hall for breakfast first.
Since Dumbledore wasn't around, waiting was useless anyway.
Quite a few students were already eating in the Great Hall.
Charlie walked over to the Gryffindor table.
"Harry."
Charlie sat down next to him and pulled the Invisibility Cloak from his robes.
Harry was stunned for a moment, took the Invisibility Cloak, put it silently into his bag without asking anything.
Charlie picked up a piece of toast and had just taken a bite when the door of the Great Hall was pushed open.
Snape walked in.
He expressionlessly scanned the Great Hall.
Harry and Ron immediately sat up straight, looking straight ahead, terrified of being caught doing anything wrong.
Snape walked to the Gryffindor table and stopped.
He looked at Harry and Ron, his voice icy, "Potter and Weasley failed to greet a Professor.
Two points from Gryffindor."
"What??"
Ron's eyes widened.
"What is it you wish to say, Mr. Weasley?"
Snape looked down at him.
Harry and Ron gritted their teeth, itching with fury.
Snape withdrew his gaze, pulled a small vial from his robes, and handed it to Charlie.
Charlie took the vial.
Inside was a golden liquid, shimmering faintly in the sunlight.
"What is this?"
"Felix Felicis," Snape said expressionlessly.
"It can increase your luck, allowing you to achieve twice the result with half the effort, and succeed more easily."
"It can also provide you with inspiration when you don't know what to do.
Dumbledore asked me to give it to you."
Charlie was ecstatic.
Wasn't this exactly what he desperately needed right now.
Charlie had no confidence in the steps he needed to take next.
And whether the Felix Felicis provided inspiration or increased luck, it would be extremely useful for what came next.
Dumbledore had Snape give this to me?
It had to be Headmaster Dumbledore; he handled things meticulously and thoroughly.
Charlie was about to ask carefully if Dumbledore had said anything else.
But before Charlie could speak, Snape had already turned and left.
Ron and Harry exchanged glances and spoke almost simultaneously.
"Charlie, don't drink it!"
"Snape is definitely trying to poison you!"
Charlie glanced at them, ignoring the two goofballs.
He put away the Felix Felicis, gathered all the time-turners, and headed straight for the Room of Requirement on the eighth floor.
After walking past the wall three times, Charlie silently wished, "I need a room where I won't be disturbed."
A door appeared.
Pushing the door open, he found a spacious room with bare walls, containing only a table and a chair placed in the very center.
Charlie walked in and closed the door behind him.
He took out the Felix Felicis, twisted off the stopper, and drank it in one gulp.
The golden liquid slid down his throat, carrying a strange warmth.
Charlie felt his mind clear completely, his thoughts more active than ever before.
He sat down on the chair and placed the eight time-turners on the table.
How to rescue Hermione?
Charlie closed his eyes, letting his thoughts flow.
Various ideas flashed through his mind, only to be rejected one by one.
Just then, a sudden impulse surged into his heart.
Charlie opened his eyes, his gaze fixed on one of the time-turners.
He wanted to crush it.
Was this the effect of the Felix Felicis?
Charlie picked up that time-turner, hesitating for two seconds.
Since eight was plenty, there was no harm in trying.
Charlie's right hand transformed into a dragon claw, and he fiercely crushed one time-turner.
Crack.
The golden hourglass shattered, and a massive surge of energy burst out instantly.
Charlie's heart tightened.
Magic surged out, enveloping the energy.
The energy frantically tried to escape, as if attempting to break free from the restraint.
Charlie gritted his teeth, his magic continuously contracting, squeezing inward toward the center.
The energy was compressed, its volume shrinking.
But the resistance grew stronger, threatening to rupture the magical constraint.
Beads of sweat broke out on Charlie's forehead.
Squeeze harder!
The magic continued to contract.
The energy vibrated violently, emitting a high-pitched hum.
Just when Charlie felt strained and was about to give up.
Boom!
The energy exploded.
Charlie's magic was scattered by the blast, but he himself was completely unharmed.
The shockwave from the energy explosion spread from his palm, but passed through his body, through the table, and through the entire room.
This energy could not harm the material world at all.
Charlie stared at the spot in mid-air, where a faint, barely visible crack had appeared.
A sudden realization dawned on him.
The energy on the time-turner was used to resist the rules of time, protecting the person traveling through time from being erased by those rules.
Let's call this energy 'Time Energy.'
When compressed to its limit and then released, it temporarily blasts a rift into the otherwise intangible fabric of time.
And people like Hermione, who were erased by time, were hidden within this Time Rift.
Charlie raised his hand, intending to touch the rift.
A sense of danger instantly exploded in his mind.
Was this rift dangerous?
He stopped, thought for a moment, put all the time-turners on his person, and picked one up to hold in his hand.
The golden hourglass felt slightly warm in his palm.
Charlie reached out again.
This time, the sense of danger vanished.
His fingertip touched the rift.
The scene before him hadn't changed at all; the Room of Requirement looked the same, with the table, chair, and walls all in their original places.
But Charlie felt something was wrong; his body seemed to have lost all weight.
The time-turner in his hand began to release energy.
Golden light surged from the hourglass, covering Charlie.
Charlie could clearly feel that this energy was being consumed at a steady rate.
He looked down at the time-turner.
The golden sand inside the hourglass was slowly diminishing.
Charlie's heart sank.
If Hermione entered this place without a time-turner on her, what would happen?
Could she still be alive?
Charlie quickly ran out of the Room of Requirement.
The corridors of the Castle were empty, with a few younger students playing on the stairs.
Charlie ran past them, but no one looked up at him.
He stopped and reached out to touch the wall.
His fingers passed right through it.
Charlie tried to push open a nearby door; his palm went right through the wood.
He couldn't touch anything.
He turned and looked at the students, strode over, and walked straight through one of the boys.
Charlie understood.
He was like a ghost now, able to see the world but unable to make any contact with it.
He ran through two floors of the Castle, checking every classroom, but there was no sign of Hermione.
Randomly searching like this had too low a probability of finding her.
He calmed down and started thinking about where Hermione might be.
The Gryffindor common room?
Dormitory?
Classroom?
Charlie thought for a moment, then chuckled softly.
Where else would Hermione go besides the Library?
Given her personality, if she encountered such an unknown situation, she would definitely try to find a solution in books.
A thought flashed through Charlie's mind, and the scene instantly changed.
The next second, he appeared at the entrance of the Library.
A person banished to the Time Rift could appear anywhere in the world, simply by thinking of that location.
But they couldn't do anything.
They could see, but not touch.
They could hear, but not speak.
For someone who could only observe the outside world, this was nothing short of torture.
Perhaps this was the punishment for violating the laws of time.
Charlie walked into the Library.
Madam Pince was sitting at the front desk, flipping through a thick catalogue.
Several Ravenclaw students occupied the window seats, buried in their homework.
Charlie moved between the bookshelves, scanning them row by row.
He walked to the deepest part of the Library, the Restricted Section.
Then Charlie saw her.
Beneath a bookshelf against the wall, a faint, transparent figure was curled up on the floor.
Long brown hair was scattered on the floor, and her body was faintly trembling.
It was Hermione.
Charlie quickly stepped forward and knelt down.
Hermione's condition was worse than he had imagined.
Her body was as transparent as mist, and tiny specks of light continuously drifted away from her edges, dissolving into the air.
"Hermione!"
Charlie reached out to touch her shoulder.
Perhaps because they were both in the Time Rift, he successfully made contact.
But Hermione showed no reaction, her eyes tightly closed.
Charlie's heart tightened, and he immediately pulled a time-turner from his robes and placed it on Hermione.
Golden energy surged from the hourglass, completely enveloping Hermione.
Hermione's body stopped dissolving, but she still didn't wake up.
Charlie frowned, closing his eyes to sense her condition.
The magic within Hermione was pitifully weak, like a flame about to be extinguished.
"Her magic is exhausted?"
Charlie realized.
In this place, without the protection of a time-turner, magic would be continuously consumed.
Hermione had been here for several days; her magic couldn't sustain her any longer.
Charlie raised his hand, and a faint wisp of magic appeared in his palm.
He controlled the wisp of magic, slowly injecting it into Hermione.
Charlie's magic wasn't rejected even by the Whomping Willow, let alone a human.
As soon as the magic entered, the remaining faint magic within Hermione absorbed it frantically, recovering at a visible rate.
Charlie's magical power was extremely strong; just a single wisp was enough to restore her condition completely.
Hermione's body solidified completely, the transparency vanished, and the color returned somewhat to her face.
Her eyelashes fluttered, and she slowly opened her eyes.
The moment her vision focused, Hermione saw Charlie kneeling in front of her.
Tears instantly welled up.
She abruptly sat up, threw her arms around Charlie, and her whole body was trembling.
Charlie was stunned for a moment, then gently patted her back.
"Don't be afraid.
I'm here to take you home."