[228] Who Hunts the Hunter

Russell, who had been responsible for luring Bellatrix and her group to France, received the news the moment they made their move.

The French saints weren't pushovers. It was one thing to want a place in Hall's court, but quite another to disrupt his plans.

Russell immediately found Hall.

"They finally realised?" Hall raised an eyebrow.

Russell was stunned.

"I never thought France would keep them occupied long." Hall smiled faintly. Whether others knew or not, Hall knew Voldemort wasn't in France. He only had two Horcruxes left — one was Nagini, and the other...

Hall's eyes darkened. One day, he'd wipe that thing out completely.

"They're back, so they're back. I should deal with them. The British wizarding world has finally stabilised — I can't let rotten apples spoil my work."

In Hall's eyes, the British wizarding world was porridge in his pot. Through various means and products, he had established public agents while remaining hidden behind the scenes. Everyone knew him, but everyone only knew a part of him.

"Give them a target first," Hall said. "I destroyed several fragments of Voldemort's soul, so his main soul can't have a body of its own. Lead them on a wild goose chase. Isn't Nagini's body a pretty good choice?"

Hall sympathised with Nagini's past — a blood-cursed beastwoman turned into a snake. But the curse was irreversible. The best ending was to let her face death in a grand way.

"Send a message to Ms Lydia too. Let her take some credit. Eliminate a few more Death Eaters if possible, or at least keep them quiet."

Russell listened intently. The core message was simple: come back, but don't cause trouble.

Bellatrix acted quickly. But Lydia acted even faster.

Voldemort returning to England? Triple alert. Ten times alert. If possible, air raid sirens wouldn't be excessive.

"But Minister, is this source reliable?" An Auror looked hesitant. "Are they really going to deal with those Death Eaters so openly?"

Rufus Scrimgeour snorted. "Make good use of your equipment; it won't kill you!"

Lydia smiled silently. If not for Mr Henry, Scrimgeour would have been Minister of Magic after Fudge. But the situation shifted. He remained head of the Aurors, and she became his superior. After seeing the equipment she'd brought out, he had no problem with it.

The moment Scrimgeour saw the group of wizards in black robes step into British territory, he was the first to charge.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

"Expelliarmus — "

"Avada Kedavra — "

A deafening roar echoed through the open space. Capture them alive if possible, kill them if not.

By the time Hall learned the follow-up news, the battle was over. In his hand was the latest Daily Prophet.

"What are you looking at?" Draco leaned over. "The Prophet's always rehashing the same boring news..."

He glanced at the paper and broke into a coughing fit. "What is this?!"

Hall chuckled. "The Ministry eliminated several Death Eaters. Two escaped. They're continuing to track them down."

The number of Death Eaters had drastically decreased.

Hall was somewhat satisfied that only two Death Eaters had entered the British wizarding world. Compared to the chaos they caused in the original story, the current peace was a vast improvement. Contentment brings happiness.

But Lydia wasn't satisfied. Neither was Rufus.

With both the Minister of Magic and the Minister of Aurors dissatisfied, the entire Ministry went on high alert.

Lydia sat at the head of the long table, her face cold. "I don't trust the Death Eaters' rationality. For their master — Voldemort — there's nothing they wouldn't do."

Several subordinates burped in shock. One stared at Lydia in horror, not expecting their new Minister to address that person by name.

"Shut up." Lydia gave Rufus a look.

While handling the Death Eater incidents, Lydia was also responsible for the sale of the Magic Notebooks. She felt like a wound-up top, spinning non-stop.

But putting down the sales? She chose to refuse. These were genuine Galleons.

The Ministry had taken charge of signal tower construction and received a share of the sales revenue. In a short time, the Magic Notebooks became a sensation throughout the wizarding world.

Simply by holding one, you could add fifty friends who also owned one. They offered chat and a social media feed. Demand far outstripped supply.

Six thousand Galleons? Some couldn't afford it. But Galleons could always be earned. Once you bought one, it lasted for years — and you could pass on all your relationships.

Galleons flowed into Hall like a never-ending tide. He had nearly filled his new vault at Gringotts, even after allocating a portion to the Ministry.

"I'm really rich now." Hall smacked his lips, counting his Galleons. He was one step closer to becoming the richest wizard in the world.

His gaze fell on a small Magic Notebook to his left. Unlike the market versions, this one had a pure black cover. He tapped it lightly. Looks like those guys haven't started passing on the message yet.

Just before summer vacation, Sirius finally found Hall.

"Regulus can walk now."

Hall checked the time. He'd rescued Regulus in April. "Two whole months, and you only just — "

"Regulus isn't feeling well! He needs rest! Nothing can happen to him again!"

Hall nodded. Familial overprotectiveness. Regulus must have felt the full force of his brother's love these past two months.

Sirius glanced at the Slytherin before him, who was showing more Weasley features as he grew. Why was Hall a Slytherin? If he were a Gryffindor... Sirius shuddered. Actually, he couldn't imagine Hall being a Gryffindor at all. It felt wrong.

"The shop location I promised you has been chosen. Narcissa picked it out." Sirius's brow furrowed at her name.

Hall understood. Narcissa was a Black before marriage. She never imagined she'd see Regulus again — alive. She was thrilled and also filled with fighting spirit. Helping Regulus fight for ownership of the Black family. Sirius didn't want it; he wanted to give it all to Regulus. But Regulus believed his brother should have a share too, and Narcissa was completely on Regulus's side.

Sirius didn't want to recall the past two months.

Big Dog lowered his eyes, his voice weary. "Your supermarket is almost finished. Registered in your name. You can check on it during the holidays."

He pushed another stack of papers in front of Hall.

Hall flipped through them. Black family properties across England — several major cities, three in London alone. Two potion plantations, still active. Various Muggle-related properties.

The last document was a property transfer agreement. The recipient: Hall Weasley, written in beautiful cursive.