socalfunplaces Chapter 118 Renaissance: The Principal Pleads for Mercy
Chapter 118 Renaissance: The Principal Pleads for Mercy
Chapter 119 Renaissance: The Principal Pleads for Mercy
Harry stayed at the Leaky Cauldron that night, wrote a letter to Dumbledore asking for the Phoenix Tear, and sent Snow White to deliver it.
At dawn the next day, Harry packed his things and headed straight for Diagon Alley.
More than a month into the summer vacation, the alley was bustling with people, mostly students and their parents buying things for school. People were pushing carts and carrying loads, hawking their wares, all jostling together—it was quite a lively scene.
Harry, holding Legnark's letter, went to the place described in it where to retrieve the knife.
He had only taken a few steps when a delicate-looking young woman suddenly emerged from the crowd and pounced on Harry.
"Excuse me, are you Harry Potter?"
"Could you give me your autograph?"
Harry was already aware of his family's great reputation in the wizarding world; last summer, he had been surrounded by a group of people at Flourish and Blotts. Seeing them blocking his way again today, he wasn't worried.
He took the paper and pen from her and said, "Is there anything you want me to write?"
"Is it okay if I just write 'Welcome to Gryffindor'?"
Harry laughed upon hearing this, and wrote these words in a flamboyant style on the parchment: "When school starts, I will definitely host a banquet in the Great Hall to welcome you back, my dear."
He then gave a greeting and headed straight ahead.
As Harry approached, he saw several young witches carrying weapons. Most had swords at their waists, and a few carried guns and clubs. As they hurried past, the scarred man felt a sense of disorientation, as if he were in the Water Margin.
He wondered to himself: When did so many heroes wielding guns and clubs arrive at Hogwarts? This is really strange.
Just as I was wondering what was going on, I arrived at the address in the letter. Looking up, I saw a large sign that read "Legnak Weapons Shop," right across from Ollivander's Wand Shop.
People came and went in a constant stream, bustling and lively, a truly bustling place.
Harry thought to himself: No wonder this fellow wasn't hiding in that crypt in Nottingham; he's set up camp in Diagon Alley.
He drew his wand and cast a disguise spell to cover the scar on his forehead, then strode inside.
Nagenak, dressed in a suit, was exchanging pleasantries with three or five minor witches. His hair was slicked back and he wore a black satin suit. Although he was a genie from the earth, he dressed up like a human.
"...Please allow me to proudly introduce the life-size replica of the Gryffindor sword—"
"You want to get rid of your knife? Ah, then you must have been following Mr. Potter since he first entered school."
"As a fellow early follower of Mr. Potter, I'm willing to give you a 10% discount..."
The demon was still rambling on when a cold shout suddenly rang out behind him: "You scoundrel! Tell me clearly, when did you become my retainer?!"
Legnack was startled and quickly turned around, only to find Harry already standing behind him.
"Oh, have you come to pick up the knife?"
He gave a knowing look, instructing a goblin to accompany the little witch in conversation. Then he bowed and raised his hand, "Please come with me, Mr. Potter, I have been waiting for you for a long time."
"The poison is now almost spreading to my chest..."
Harry pressed the wand against his back and yelled, "If the knife strikes well, I'll spare your life. But what about you, sir, selling counterfeit weapons under my name?"
"Oh, Mr. Potter, if that's the case, then Lockhart is the one who deserves the most damnation."
How could Legnac say such a thing?
It turns out that Lockhart released a new book two months ago, titled "Hogwarts and the Basilisk".
This writer is a master of prose, bringing the vaguely explained Chamber of Secrets story to life. Although he uses his own name as the protagonist, he devotes a large portion of the book to Harry's heroic exploits.
The section about angrily slaying the snake monster and poisoning the evil spirit in the secret chamber, which he wrote in a long and flowing style, spanned three to five pages. It was truly a case of: "His pen moved like dragons and snakes, startling wind and rain; his ink splashed like demons, shaking heaven and earth."
Perhaps because of his personal experience, this book is much more exciting than his previous work, and it sold out immediately upon publication.
Many young wizards who read it were filled with regret and clamored for their parents to provide them with swords and knives so they could emulate the scarred Harry Potter.
There was a goblin in Gringotts who was close to Legnark and knew that Harry's knife had been forged by him. Seeing this trend in the city, he hurriedly wrote a letter and sent it to them under the cover of night.
Legnac, being the most cunning and astute, immediately gathered his family's wealth and took over a shop in Diagon Alley to make weapons.
This fairy not only possesses excellent blacksmithing skills but is also a descendant of royalty. She has established this thousand-year-old brand, causing a trend of sword-wearing to sweep through Diagon Alley, much like the Renaissance.
After Legnark finished speaking, Harry felt an inexplicable fire surge from his dantian to the top of his head.
We just spared Lockhart's life, that scoundrel, but who knew he would never repent and would write another book!
Seeing the murderous glint in Harry's eyes, the goblin, thinking he was about to take her life, cried out in a panic, "Mr. Potter, I must warn you, if I die, you may never find this knife again."
Harry suppressed his anger, put his wand back in his sleeve, and sneered, "Don't worry, you bastard. As long as the sword is intact, I won't take your life."
Knowing that Harry valued his reputation above all else, Legnack finally felt relieved upon hearing this.
The two lifted the curtain and stepped into the back room, where a wave of heat hit them. Three or five bare-chested demons were swinging hammers, the bellows panting like oxen, the anvils roaring like thunder. Over there, quenching fire emitted wielding blue smoke, while over here, forging iron sparked. Although the figures were chaotic, they were all in perfect harmony.
Legnac dismissed the goblins and took a long wooden box from the beam. When he opened the box, he saw only a lone hilt of a knife lying on a velvet lining, with not a single inch of the blade in sight.
Harry lifted the knife by the hilt, weighed it in his hand, and then lightly touched the blade with his fingertip; blood immediately seeped out. He then twirled the blade and exclaimed, "Truly capable of cutting a hair in two, a divine weapon indeed!"
Legnac remained silent, staring intently at the precious sword, his eyes blazing with intense light.
Harry glanced at him sideways, then suddenly held the hilt of his knife horizontally, sneering, "You scoundrel, you haven't changed your ways at all. Staring at my knife, are you looking for a beating?"
"Oh, I just hope you'll allow me to sell replicas of your knife here," Legnac said obsequiously, lowering his eyes. "I'm willing to offer 30% of the profits as royalties."
"After all, this knife belongs to you."
As the old saying goes, "Where there's smoke, there's fire." Harry saw the goblin's fawning smile and strange words and immediately sensed its malicious intent.
He thought to himself: This fellow must be plotting something again. I'll wait and see what tricks this bastard is up to.
He immediately sheathed his sword and said, "In that case, the money and goods are settled."
"No, no, no, Mr. Potter, you haven't given me the antidote yet."
Harry was about to speak when he heard a soft laugh behind him. "Phoenix Tears? I've already brought them."
The two turned around quickly, only to find Dumbledore standing behind the curtain at some unknown time.
When the goblin saw Dumbledore, his face tightened, and he stammered, "Oh, hello, Mr. Dumbledore."
Dumbledore took a small bottle, about the size of a finger, from his sleeve and placed it on the table. "Just drip it on the back of your hand, Mr. Legnak."
Harry cupped his hands in greeting and said, "Professor, why did you come in person without saying a word? You could have prepared some food and wine to welcome you."
"Ah, I drank a large cup of syrup before I came, so I'm not very hungry." Dumbledore winked. "How about we go for a walk? I haven't been to Diagon Alley in ages."
Harry agreed, put the ringed knife into his robe, and headed out of the blacksmith's shop with Dumbledore.
Once outside the blacksmith's shop, Harry asked bluntly, "Professor, do you have something to ask of me?"
"That's right."
Dumbledore knew he couldn't hide it from Harry, so he stopped playing games and asked, "Do you remember what we talked about when you entered your second year?"
(End of this chapter)