webnovel

Drawing cards at Hogwarts

"One more time! This time I must get the animagus spell from Professor McGonagall!" Draw! Cash draw! Who is it? "I am the great astrologer, Trelawney!" [Divination +1] Tears welled up in Tom's eyes. Confronted with the magnificent magical world, Tom felt deeply that Muggle power has a limit, so he decided to shout that phrase: I will not be a Muggle! *I do not own the copyright of such fanfic or the contents of the novel or the Harry Potter book. If you want to support me, this is my Patreon, where you can find advance chapters: https://www.patreon.com/inferno303

inferno303 · Derivados de obras
Sin suficientes valoraciones
703 Chs

Chapter 163: The "daytime" intrusion of a gentleman (Edited)

"Hey, yeah, I got a lot of stories..." Hacker then began to tell the story of his battle of wits (actually being one-sidedly hung up with civil servants). But Tom listened patiently for a while and then began to steer the conversation in the direction he needed to go.

"Well, my novel is more of an urban ghost one, remember the train bombing the other day? There are some strange rumors going around, I'm interested."

"Not really." Hacker didn't remember much, after all every day his secretary handed him several huge boxes of papers with hundreds of documents awaiting Hacker's signature to be processed, obviously it was unrealistic for Hacker to keep track of everything.

"But if there had been an attack, the process would have been that the police must conduct an investigation and then make the investigative report into a file and finally send it to the General Administration files for archiving, which is theoretically still my department's responsibility!" Hacker suddenly became suddenly smug, "I could ask someone to pull the file...".

"No need, it would be too much trouble for you, and such irregularities would only lead to falsehoods." Tom refused Hacker's request. He just needed to know where the case files were. It would be inconvenient for a man like Hacker who had a million people watching his every move.

Hacker was touched: he had no idea this man was so thoughtful, so considerate of himself. I'm touched, I must be friends with, Mr....?

Hacker suddenly became aware of a very embarrassing problem: he didn't know the name of the man in front of him!

This man, who had helped him recover his car keys, retrieve the photos taken of him and solve the problems in his apartment, but he didn't even know his name!

Hacker felt embarrassed.

"Uh, well, it occurred to me, I don't seem to know their names, so maybe they've introduced themselves, but I was pretty drunk before..."

Tom also made a face of realization, "I'm Lockhart, Gilderoy Lockhart, this is Ron and that's Harry."

Hacker laughed, "Tell me your real name, I think we can be friends, no need to be polite between friends."

Tom: "???"

Right now he was really interpreting Lockhart's identity!

Annie laughed too, and Hacker said to his wife, "Honey, bring that book over here." Annie left the room, and a few moments later came in with a book. It was a very plain looking book, with no cover, just a title, and pages that looked cheap, like a bootleg book printed in a small shop.

"I was a newspaper editor-in-chief before politics, so I know a little about current fiction." Hacker nodded at the line on the cover and Harry, Ron and Tom poked their heads in to see what it said.

"The Adventures of Lockhart - Volume 1."

Tom: "?!"

He picked up the book, skimmed through it and discovered that it contained Lockhart's "Recess with the Banshee."

Hacker's reaction was as normal as meeting a man who tells you his name is "Jack Sparrow" and you think he's joking with you.

Tom: Ah, this...

All three present gasped.

"Well, actually my name is Tom Yodel." Tom thought for a moment and told Hacker his name. But it was hard to tell whether Hacker believed it or not.

"But when I was a newspaper editor, I came across some paranormal incidents." They talked for a long time and, after making themselves three cups of tea, the three of them reluctantly left Hacker's house.

"Keep in touch!" Hacker leaned out the window and waved at them. When the friends left, Hacker left the window and went to the sink to wash up. When he lay down on his bed, he heaved a long sigh of relief: it had been a torturous day for him. He remembered his day: working on the noise in the morning, dealing with union responsibility in the afternoon, and then this crap at night!

Luckily, Tom picked up my keys for me, I don't know how I would have gotten a key out that had fallen down the drain....

Yeah, it's not easy to get a key out of the sewer....

Wait, a key in the drain?

Hacker: "!!!!"

How did Tom get it out?

He recovered and started straining to recall the memory fragments in his head: the exit from the embassy, the walk to the car, the extraction of the keys, the keys falling into the sewer, the photograph of a journalist as he pulled them out, Tom's arrival and the extraction of the keys ....

Hacker is shocked: Tom has done something that defies common sense!

Annie was also awakened by her husband's actions, and muttered, "Honey, take another day, you're too tired today...", but Annie soon realized that something was wrong with him. Only after repeated questioning did Hacker share the details of what she had remembered.

"There is a possibility that Tom himself has the keys to that car: he could be a French spy, doing this to get close to you, to get involved with you." Anie quickly analyzed.

"No way, he speaks very good English!" Hacker dismissed flatly, "And it was a fluke that I lost the key, but the French embassy may have seen me drop it and taken the opportunity to do so."

"But that might not be enough time." Annie detected the flaw in Hacker's logic.

"Yeah, Tom's not a Cambridge graduate, he can't be a spy." Hacker, who was born into London politics and economics, began to sneer like a madman at Cambridge graduates. Oxbridge was at the top of the chain of academic contempt, and in the eyes of Oxbridge per capita civil servants, Hacker, a graduate of the London School of Economics, was an illiterate.

The best compliment in the London civil service was "you're a confidence man" and the worst insult was "you're fit to be a minister."

"There's something fishy about this...," Hacker said, lighting a cigarette, but Annie snatched it from him and put it out.

"Go to the security services tomorrow and get a surveillance, and don't tell me MI6 doesn't have surveillance outside the French Embassy."

"Of course not!" Hacker replied sternly, "That would be an invasion of privacy, it's the bank across the street from the embassy that has the surveillance, we don't have a dime to do with it!".

Hacker decided to check the surveillance tomorrow to see what was really going on.

By now, Tom was on the bus to London Police Headquarters. On the way, they were even shaking their heads and singing with glee: their investigation had taken a big step.

The car slid and hit the curb constantly, but it wasn't a big deal, because Ron didn't stop at the door of the police station stupidly, he actually stopped at the door, today's task is not to sneak in, but to be peerless

Even in England, even if it was a Sunday night, there would be someone on duty at London Police Headquarters. In theory, killing everyone in sight would be infiltration. But my lord, times have changed, and nowadays the guards have walkie-talkies ...

If Tom decides to infiltrate without a pair, he will most likely have to face MI6 agents who have found out. Then came the iron fist of the British Empire: tanks, armored cars, helicopters, there was always something for Mr. Yodel, and he was guaranteed to enjoy himself.

Ron parked his car on a street near the headquarters. It wasn't easy to find this place in the dark, with a paper map.

To sneak in, you had to be sneaky to avoid the guards, but Tom and the others had tricks, so they simply put on the invisibility cloak and went in. There were two guards on duty just in front of the station, and the three of them walked past them a few feet away, oblivious.

There are two cups of coffee and several empty takeout boxes on the table in front of the guards. It's Sunday night and it's impossible for any leader to come and check the station suddenly, so the guards are very lazy.

The station was guarded, of course, but the guards in the guardroom were also asleep at the time.

Tom and the others had easy access to the police headquarters building, which was lit up even though there were only a small number of people on duty. If Hacker had known this, I'm afraid he would have had a very good entry point for his "conservation campaign". If half the lights were turned off, it would save half the electricity bill.

As to whether they would be lost due to the complexity of the terrain? That's not possible. Because the receptionist had been kind enough to put up a huge sign with directions to various locations, and Tom followed the guests' signs to the archives.

The door to the archives was locked, but that was no challenge for the three wizards.

"Alohomora!" The door to the archives slowly opened and a myriad of filing cabinets appeared before them.

"So where should I find it?" Harry gaped at the number of cabinets.

He had expected the filing cabinets to be an office with stacks of papers, with the files they needed in the most obvious places, but little did he know that this filing room was as large as the Hogwarts library.

Tom pointed to the label on the nearest filing cabinet: Hammersmith Fulham Police Station - September 1992.

"Look for the police station corresponding to the train station, the files should be stored in the September locker."

Guided by this line of thinking, Tom and the gang soon found the file they needed.

"Paddington's train bombing, that's it." Harry spotted a file folder and eagerly pulled it out.

The three of them unpacked it and looked at it on the desk. There weren't hordes of detectives and elementary school students in London, and the London police had not become like their Japanese counterparts, who just took pictures and called in high school detectives when they came across a case, but had investigated it in detail.

They took statements from everyone present and, after examining the dozens of pages of statements, the three of them unanimously decided to skip them. The London detectives went through the witness statements at the scene, first discarding the more outrageous "dead man's assault" claims, after all they couldn't trust the statement of a drug addict, even if he kept saying he wasn't high at the time.

Such is society, when you get into something, your credibility is infinitely closer to bankruptcy, even if you now appear to have some money left over.

The detectives then classified the incident as an assault, even though the case was very dubious. The detectives did not understand why someone who was going to blow up a train would get into a confrontation with someone.

The only explanation was that the attacker had opted for a double bombing: bombing and self-immolation, but the key to detonate the bomb had been taken by another man and they had argued, during which time the fuel on the attacker's body had ignited, giving rise to the scene seen by witnesses.

Detectives thought the fact that the attacker's body was on fire and still able to fight was a case of nervousness and a misinterpretation of the fight. There were no casualties from the attack, only the attacker and the man were missing. They were not classified as dead because no remains of the two men were found and they were considered missing.

The police were surprised to find that no relatives of the missing man had come forward, so they happily and cheerfully closed the case: the truth had been "uncovered", no relatives were involved and, most importantly, no organization was involved! It was no longer their business, they closed the case, sealed the file, sent copies to MI6, and it was no longer their business.

As for working hard, chasing the killer for ten years, to finally bring him to justice and reveal the truth, that's a movie, please don't bring it to life. They are the Queen's servants, they have to catch dogs and cats, they are very busy!

But they did find out who the murderer was: a building materials dealer, deceased parents, single, antique collector, and on the day of the murder, according to his friends, he was in London buying antiques, but the detectives decided he was using it as a cover for his meeting with someone.

His address was also clearly written: 514 St. Michel Road, Bristol.

Tom and his team had the most crucial information.

[Mission: Kill demons on horseback (Prologue) Act 2 completed]

[Reward has been issued]

[Act 3 of the prologue begins]

[Mission objective: Go to Burnham Manor, 514 Bristow St. Michel Road, and complete the investigation] [Mission objective: Go to Burnham Manor, 514 Bristow St. Michel Road, and complete the investigation]

[Reward: Magic stones and mystery reward].

The second act of Tom's mission is also complete. Now he has to go to the unfortunate man's house and carry out the final investigation. The mysterious reward of the quest has turned out to be a bit exciting for him.

"Professor Lockhart, what do we do now?" Ron and Harry seemed eager to follow up on the key clue, but deep down they were a little worried that Professor Lockhart would stop here and send them back; after all, tomorrow was Monday, and if the professor forced them back to school on the grounds that they had to go to class, they would be completely unable to argue.

As for Lockhart himself, he could have taken a leave of absence! He had taken two weeks off at the beginning of the term, and a day off on Monday was no big deal.

Tom scratched his chin, he was definitely going to be there or he wouldn't get the job done, and as for Harry and Ron....

He looked at the two of them and made arrangements for them as well.