Chương 254: Chapter 254: The Trackers (Edited)
The bus had stopped by the side of the road.
With a flick of his wand, Ernie Prang conjured a rope from its tip and securely tied up the five men, stopping the bleeding of the man whose chest Tom had cut. It was then that Harry regained consciousness and realized that someone had just tried to attack him.
Hermione stepped forward and removed the hoods from the heads of the five men. When they saw their faces, everyone was stunned: out of the five, only the one who had cast the Killing Curse had the face of a normal white man, the other four had dense scales on their faces and fangs protruding from their lips.
Recalling the claws of the two men, Tom tore open their robes and discovered that the upper halves of their bodies were also covered in scales, extending down to their groins and showing signs of growth, and that the hands of the four men had transformed into claws, which looked repulsive. But the scales were not very protective, probably because they were new, and Tom's punch had shattered several pieces of the scales, with blackened blood now dripping from the wounds.
"This is..." Harry's expression froze, he didn't know why he had attracted such a group of monsters.
[Successfully captured magic-infested man x 4, rewarded with 400 magic stones]
The message appeared in Tom's system, and the reward had been credited.
"Magic?" Tom saw a new term, and he glanced at the strange state of the four men, convinced that the supposed magic infestation was not a good sign.
"Get off the bus first," Tom looked towards the door, "If I'm right, the Minister of Magic is approaching."
"Minister of Magic?" Harry grimaced at the word. "No, damn it, I can't meet the Minister of Magic, I'll be expelled, tonight-"
"They won't expel you, nor will they punish you in any way," Tom patted him on the shoulder, "The Ministry is asking for you now, you can count on it."
Tom's words didn't clear Harry's doubts, but he couldn't do anything about it. He couldn't punch Tom and run away, could he? He couldn't fight either! The image of Tom disposing of three attackers still lingered in his mind.
Before he could turn around, a hand landed on his shoulder.
"My Harry, you're here!" Harry turned his head and saw the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, standing beside him, with a striped robe and a bewildered face.
"Not just him, but a few unexpected guests," Ernie Prang threw the five men out of the car.
Fudge froze for a moment upon seeing them, his expression changing to one of dismay and disgust when he saw the scales on their faces. But when he saw the white man, those looks changed to one of delight.
He snapped his fingers, and immediately several Ministry personnel came out from behind him, the leader of whom Tom recognized as John Dawlish from the Ministry, and the rest as Ministry Aurors, a division of the Ministry's Law Enforcement Department responsible for enforcing the law in general.
Dawlish rolled up the sleeve of the man's right arm and saw a black cross tattooed on his shoulder, a cross formed by two intertwined wands and a skull with two small x's on top of it.
"The Trackers!" Fudge smiled. "So this guy was mixed up with the Trackers, no wonder he was so difficult to catch!"
"Trackers?" The term was somewhat unfamiliar to the others present, and seeing their confusion, Fudge patiently explained about this unknown group.
The Trackers were a group of wizards and mercenaries from various countries that existed throughout the history of America. Born in the Age of Exploration, they were among the most brutal of the wizards caught up in that turbulent era.
They started as bounty hunters but gradually became witch hunters. They conspired with the No-Majs (the American term for muggles) to capture wizards and sell them to the Puritans for witch trials. The blood of witches was on the hands of every Tracker.
After the establishment of the Magical Congress, some of the Puritans formed families with the No-Majs and managed to escape punishment. Their descendants continued to deeply influence the relationship between wizards and No-Majs for centuries.
Their philosophy was passed down through bloodlines: magic was real, and witches were to be eliminated as soon as they were discovered.
Fudge wasn't interested in those American lunatics; he only knew that capturing a Tracker and four monsters would be the answer to his problems.
"Good job!" He patted Tom on the shoulder. "I remember you, you're a third-year Ravenclaw student, the one who was attacked by a monster last year, spent most of the year in the hospital bed, and still managed to pass the final exams with distinction! If you ever end up working at the Ministry of Magic, you'll shine!"
Dawlish chimed in, "He'd definitely make a great Auror."
Fudge laughed heartily and then mentioned that he would surely put in a request for a medal for Tom. Of course, whether the request would be approved or not was another matter.
It should be mentioned that Fudge, as a political creature, had all the points of affability, and his words were very pleasant.
After a few words with Tom, he tapped his head and said, "Ah! I forgot my business. Harry, come here, I want to talk to you. Tom, you continue with your matters, Dawlish, keep an eye on these guys."
He smiled kindly at Tom and then grabbed Harry's shoulder, pushing him towards the Leaky Cauldron.
As Fudge and Dawlish walked away, Hermione happily took Tom's hand.
"It's the Minister of Magic!" Hermione was excited, impressed with Fudge, and in her opinion, the Minister of Magic was on the same level as the British Prime Minister, who had just praised Tom.
Tom wasn't as enthusiastic. Was it worth bragging about being praised by someone like Fudge? What good would it do to receive the Order of Merlin?
He held Hermione's hand and entered the Leaky Cauldron.
An old man with a wrinkled face, toothless, and hunchbacked, holding a lantern in his hand, appeared in front of Tom. He was also named Tom and was the owner of the pub, Hannah Abbott's uncle.
"Hello, I would like two private rooms until September first."
"Yes, you're in luck, there are only two rooms left."
Old Tom led the two of them down the narrow hallway and encountered Fudge, who was walking briskly, having taken off his striped robe.
Upon seeing the two Toms, Fudge smiled again and asked Old Tom for a room.
As Fudge left, Tom could only shake his head with regret, "There's only one room left."
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