manynovel Chapter 2 Who Treats Whom Like a Dog
Chapter 2 Who Treats Whom Like a Dog
"Ares Delfino, I have been instructed to read your decree."
"Great, things are cleared up, right?"
"The department consulted relevant experts and conducted a second analysis of the potions you sold. The results confirmed your previous arguments. Therefore, Minister Burns has decided not to prosecute you!"
"Oh, praise the fool... no, Minister Burns—I've been worried about what will happen if I have children in the future, given my criminal record. They might not be able to take the civil service exam... I mean, the Ministry of Magic exam!"
"Even if you blow the Ministry of Magic to bits, it won't prevent your child from getting in... There's no such rule."
The one who came to release Ares was none other than the Auror who had previously escorted him to Azkaban. He paused, then explained to Ares in a muffled voice,
"I haven't finished yet—but for your unlicensed sale of expired potions, the department has decided to impose a fine of 300 Galleons on you."
There is no essential difference between day and night in Azkaban.
The sea wind howled sharply, its chill as sharp as a knife. Beneath the deep gray clouds, the churning icy sea also exuded a putrid aura, like a painting rendered in despair.
On the isolated island, apart from a swarm of carrion flies full of life, there was no sign of life.
"Let's go!"
The lighthouse keeper pulled the rusty iron door open wider, his eyes darting around, his teeth chattering, before finally glaring disapprovingly at Ares, who was quoting scriptures and arguing with the Aurors about the amount of the fine.
"I don't want to run into Dementors!"
"I will write a letter of protest to the ministry, sir."
Ares ended the argument with a righteous and eloquent remark, then walked past the Auror in front of him toward the cell door.
The Dementors slid down the spiral staircase.
"Damn it, what I feared most has come to pass!"
He glared angrily at Ares again, and the officer on duty stepped forward to communicate with him with a stern face.
After a few whispers--
"Phew, a prisoner died...it's no big deal."
The officers breathed a sigh of relief and retreated from in front of the Dementors.
In Azkaban, this kind of thing happens a few times a month and is hardly an emergency. Upon hearing the explanation, Auror relaxed his shrugged shoulders.
Who died?
Ares, however, inquired with great interest.
"A notorious Death Eater—Bellatrix Lestrange."
The officers glanced at the Dementors with disgust out of the corner of their eyes, smacking their lips.
"Tsk, I bet the Daily Prophet will be interested in this news... but the problem is I'll have to write a report explaining how she died... It's ridiculous, does she even need an explanation?!"
"What will you do with her body?"
Ares pressed on,
"Should we return it to the family or bury it on the spot?"
"We usually notify the family, but Bellatrix...you've reminded me--"
The officers on duty raised their expressionless faces at the Dementors.
"Go and inform Rodolphus Lestrange, who's being held on the second floor, that his wife is dead, and Sirius Black too... Don't worry about whether they understand what this means, just do your duty—then take her outside and bury her—"
Just as they had arrived, the flying carpet carried the three away from this ominous place and back to the lighthouse.
Here, Ares retrieved his belongings.
"You have three days to pay the fine, or the ministry will summon you again."
"Auror said in a low voice. He watched Ares change his robes and pull a limp, dead fly from his slightly disheveled black hair."
Ares ignored the Auror's warning, his gaze sweeping around before settling on the rack behind the lighthouse keeper.
"Do you still want that empty baby bottle? -- No?...Then give it to me, thank you, it'll be perfect for my new pet."
The officer on duty merely glared at Ares in surprise at his strange behavior, then muttered to himself (even prisoners get released one day, but I have to stay here for the rest of my life!), and tossed the baby bottle to Ares.
"When are you going to pay the fine?!"
Seeing that Ares ignored his reminder, the Auror raised his voice in dissatisfaction.
The milk stains in the bottle emitted a strong sour smell, and dead fly flies, dissatisfied with their new home environment, frantically bit Ares's fingers.
"Oh, a baby bottle is better than Azkaban, right? Make do, don't be so demanding!"
Ares ignored it, tossing the dead fly into the bottle cap and disgustedly wiping his fingers on his old robe.
"fine!!!"
Debt collection is the most annoying thing, and the seemingly honest Auror was on the verge of a breakdown.
This time, Ares finally reacted. He glanced at the Auror with a gloomy look and snapped his fingers.
Accompanied by a series of crisp clinking sounds and the astonished officer shouting, "Damn it, did I not search it thoroughly?!", a golden meteor suddenly flew out from Ares's money bag, which had already been searched once, illuminating the dim light.
The meteor scattered in mid-air and landed on the table, turning into neatly stacked stacks of Galleons!
"etc!"
After quickly counting, Auror urgently stopped Ares, who had already walked into the iron cage in the center of the room and was preparing to leave using the key.
"There are only 280 Galleons here!"
"Including what you two stole from me, it's just enough."
Ares smiled and spoke in a light tone. He gave a slight bow to the embarrassed Ministry of Magic staff member before disappearing into the desolate sea.
……
With Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry having preliminarily completed its admissions process for this year, the once bustling Diagon Alley, the famous commercial center of the British wizarding world, has cooled down considerably compared to the excitement of the past few days.
However, the Leaky Cauldron bar was still packed with customers under the bright sun.
Inside the filthy, cramped bar, waiters carrying trays weave through the acrid, hazy smoke reminiscent of burning wormwood, serving glasses of cheap rye whiskey to guests engrossed in discussing current events.
"--Vizeek, Vizeek, where are you? I need to see you--We made a deal, if I can help you get rid of that batch of brain-stimulating drugs, you will--"
"Ah, Ares!"
Tom, the owner of the Leaky Cauldron, was standing behind the bar mixing drinks for a few tipsy customers.
As soon as he saw Ares, he grinned, revealing two rows of yellow teeth that looked like they were missing limbs.
"There are rumors that you've been imprisoned in Azkaban for selling counterfeit medicine!"
"Nonsense!"
Ares walked to the bar, a smile on his face, and responded loudly.
"Oh, which part of the rumor is untrue?"
"It's expired medicine, Tom, not counterfeit medicine."
Ares plopped down in the empty seat and said with righteous indignation...
"These two are different... Excuse me, could you please give me a glass of sherry? I need to wash away the bad luck!"
"What about Azkaban?"
Soon, old Tom pushed a glass of sherry with licorice and almond flavor in front of Ares and asked him questions with great interest. Several drunkards at the bar, who had been drinking heavily since early morning, also turned their interested gazes to Ares.
"Very good, very good--"
After downing half a glass in one gulp, Ares shrugged and let out a soft sigh.
"Azure sea and sky, boundless scenery -- but the food the servants brought was absolutely terrible. Luckily, I was prepared and brought some of it with me."
A group of people burst into laughter at Ares's witty remark, their laughter interspersed with old Tom's admiring praise ("Even Azkaban couldn't stump you!").
"So, during the time I was gone, did anyone come looking for me, Tom?"
Ares finished the remaining half glass of sherry in one gulp, his questioning tone light and cheerful.
"Oh, Mrs. Smith came to the 'Everything Shop' to ask you for rent, but your shop was locked, so she asked me to inquire about your whereabouts--"
Old Tom continued pouring Ares wine with the dirty bottle, muttering to himself as he went.
"Patsch has a batch of thin-bottomed crucibles and wants to know if you know where to get rid of them; Madam Malkin wants to ask you about the formula for the dyeing potion you sold her last time; Ollivander seems to have finally come to his senses, and he's willing to let you get rid of those defective wands in his shop at a low price. Of course, he emphasizes that the purchase procedures must be legal because the department is cracking down hard!"
"Are the procedures legal?"
Ares grunted.
"And me--"
Finally, old Tom looked earnestly at Ares.
"The toilet's been clogged for two weeks, and I can't get it cleared no matter what I do. The guests are complaining constantly. I suspect a water pipe has gotten into my sewer—how about 20 Galleons, Ares, plus a free lunch?"
"Use the gut-pulling spell, Tom—"
Ares smacked his lips, savoring the lingering sweetness spreading in his mouth, and said slowly and deliberately...
"I've told you at least eight times, Tom, the gut-cleaning curse always works when it comes to shoveling latrines—go try it, hmm… any news lately?"
"You definitely missed something great, Ares!"
Old Tom clearly sensed that Ares didn't want to deal with his toilet on his first day out of prison, so he had no choice but to back down. But when faced with his question, Old Tom thought for a moment, then his interest returned.
"Harry Potter has returned to us from the Muggle world, on the very day you disappeared!"
"Oh, really?"
Ares put down the glass he had brought to his lips, intrigued.
Does he look like Daniel Radcliffe?
"Excuse me, who is it?"
"Oh, forget about that, Tom—"
Ares waved his hand and smiled.
"How is Mr. Potter?"
"Humble and polite, not at all like a big shot!"
Old Tom wore an expression of pride.
"Hagrid led him to Diagon Alley to buy school supplies, and as he passed my bar, he shook hands with quite a few customers, including me, of course!"
"Then you'd better watch out, Tom."
A drunken man who looked like an old kappa joined Ares' conversation. He chuckled and puffed on his pipe, which reeked of burnt plastic, and mumbled incoherently.
"Our savior boy doesn't seem to be a lucky guy. As far as I know, among those who shook hands with him that day, there were definitely more than just one or two who suffered misfortune!"
"Yeah yeah--"
More and more people are participating in the conversation.
"Cordoll's purse was stolen before he even left the house; Dedalow Digg's wand suddenly burst into flames while he was riding the Muggle Underground Train; Holram's dragon blood, which he bought for fifty gold coins, was actually troll blood in disguise..."
The wizard, smoking his pipe, counted them off on his fingers one by one, while Ares listened with great interest.
"Don't forget Quirrell, he's the most unlucky one!"
It was as if someone had pressed the mute button; the atmosphere suddenly became chillingly cold.
"You're talking about Quirinus Quirrell, right? The newly appointed Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts?"
Ares's brow twitched.
"What happened to him? Did he have bad luck too?"
"That idiot actually went and robbed Gringotts!"
Old Tom's few remaining teeth chattered as he hissed and spoke in a shrill voice,
"Who would have thought! A desperate fugitive would disguise himself as a coward and swagger around town every day!"
In the silence, Ares's brow furrowed, and a glint of light flashed in his dark eyes.
"Robbery of the ancients—he failed...and was captured by the fairies?"
"Oh, no, not at all."
Old Tom lowered his voice, creating an air of mystery.
"He ran away—the fairies claim they saw through him before he could make a move and chased him away. But rumors say things might not be that simple!"
Of course, it's not that simple; there's definitely something worth discussing.
Ares glanced at his pocket; he could feel the dead fly frantically hitting the bottle. But he ignored it, silently processing the news that left him feeling utterly lost.
Quirrell was wanted and became a fugitive.
So... what about the agreed-upon final payment?
"He almost succeeded, didn't he?"
Some people continued this discussion from another angle, a topic that had been thoroughly debated during Ares's absence.
"If it weren't for him accepting that job—you know what I mean?"
"Of course, of course!"
"That's a record, isn't it... No one has ever been wiped out before even officially taking office!"
"Hey, so Dumbledore's in an awkward situation again?"
"Obviously, no wizard with a brain would take that risk."
"Hiccup~ Only a stupid dog would do that!"
A drunkard's burp and his words sparked a burst of laughter, and people raised their glasses.
"What's wrong, Ares?"
Old Tom noticed Ares, who suddenly seemed preoccupied.
"It's nothing--"
Ares shook his head and smiled, then raised his glass as well.
"Salute to the stupid dog!"