novelraw Chapter 179 Sexually Repressed Fairy Plays Tricks
Chapter 179 Sexually Repressed Fairy Plays Tricks
Chapter 180 (4.2k long chapter) The Sexually Repressed Fairy Plays Tricks
Picking up where we left off, Salazar suspected that the three Peverell brothers had indeed made a deal with Death. After he shared his guess, Harry pondered for a while.
Seeing the murderous glint in Salazar's eyes, he asked suspiciously, "Brother, why are you so angry at the mere mention of the gods? Is there some past entanglement?"
"Perhaps there's some grudge involved," Salazar nodded and said, "It's somewhat related to my leaving Hogwarts."
Harry was very curious and was about to ask for more details when he suddenly heard a series of piercing car horns on the street. Immediately afterward, there was a loud banging on the door, like thunderbolts striking the gates of heaven.
Harry frowned inwardly, concealed himself, and slipped out of the door.
Upon entering the hall, they saw three or four officials dressed in black standing in the courtyard, separating Black and Vernon to the left and right, with the leader earnestly trying to persuade them.
"Mr. Dursley, as I've already said, Mr. Black is innocent; he's no longer a wanted criminal—"
"That's because he has connections to the royal family!"
This Vernon hid behind several constables, his fat face swollen like a pig's liver, and shouted in a hoarse voice:
"Go find someone from the BBC! They can definitely give the whole of Britain the truth!"
Poor Vernon, though he roared so loudly that the earth shook, could not produce a single piece of real evidence.
Those officers were all shrewd men, hardened by experience. Seeing this situation, who would be willing to wade into this mess for him?
Seeing Vernon's unreasonable behavior, the leading constable stretched out the dough and threatened him in a stern voice, saying he would charge Vernon with disturbing the peace.
Startled by this, Vernon immediately wilted like a frostbitten eggplant, and the officials seized the opportunity to slip away, flying off like kites released from their cages.
The door had barely closed when Blake, already seething with rage, gritted his teeth, his face dark with anger, and glared at Vernon, cursing:
"You fat pig, are you going to call the police to arrest me?"
Seeing his devilish appearance, Vernon panicked and took several steps back, stammering, "You, you'd better not do anything rash, those policemen aren't far away yet."
Blake ignored his explanation, grabbed two black pepper sausages from the table, cast a transformation spell, and in an instant, the two sausages turned into two meat blades, which smelled incredibly spicy.
"Aaaaaaah!!! You fatso! I'm going to kill you!!!"
Blake let out a strange howl and thrust his knife forward; Vernon was terrified and fled in panic; Penny, seeing Blake acting like a mad tiger, frantically called for her house-elf to save their lives.
Dobby hesitated, unsure whether he should get involved, while Kreacher was secretly delighted. He disregarded his dislike for Muggles, grabbed a silver fork, and aimed it straight at Black's rear.
Dudley watched with great enthusiasm, gesturing wildly like a commoner watching a monkey show in the marketplace, his fat jiggling with laughter.
Just as the three men and the strange creature were making a ruckus in the hall, like headless flies bumping around, they suddenly heard a creaking sound under their feet.
Looking down, they found a large amount of sticky, glue-like substance that had spread out from nowhere, firmly binding the soles of their three feet. No matter how much they struggled, their faces turned red, they were like silkworms spinning cocoons, unable to move an inch.
"Father, please calm down and stop making trouble. We should leave now."
Before he finished speaking, Blake felt a blur before his eyes, and when he looked down at his feet, there was no trace of glue left.
He couldn't help but gasp and click his tongue, saying, "Harry, your Animagus is a little too scary."
Harry laughed and replied, "If it weren't for this mystery, how could it be worthy of a treasure like the Invisibility Cloak?"
As the two were talking, Penny paced around the hall like an ant on a hot plate, taking three or five steps before finally forcing a smile and coming closer.
"Harry, are you leaving? Why not stay a little longer?"
"Don't forget, I'm your aunt."
Harry had long seen through the woman's true nature, knowing that she was used to a life of being waited on hand and foot, and that while she claimed to care about her own blood relatives, she was actually reluctant to part with her two house-elves.
He then laughed loudly, "Since Aunt wants to enjoy this aristocratic lifestyle, she should take out some silver. Our two little house sprites aren't exactly starving; they need some gold and silver to sustain them."
Upon hearing that she was going to lose money, Penny immediately pursed her lips tightly, her face changing color several times, and she couldn't utter a single word.
Seeing her like this, Harry didn't say anything more and went upstairs to pack his bags.
Seeing this, Black quickly stepped closer and whispered, "Harry, do we really need to leave so soon? I think the Dursleys are quite fun."
Harry shook his head. "It's not that I'm impatient. Now that I've borrowed my aunt's bloodline to supplement my mother's protective spell, I shouldn't stay here any longer."
"Recently, that scoundrel Voldemort has become increasingly arrogant. If he discovers the truth, this family will inevitably suffer collateral damage and follow in the footsteps of my parents."
Upon hearing this, Black suddenly realized that Harry had traveled back in time to destroy Voldemort's remnant soul, so these words were indeed wise advice.
He scratched his messy hair and said, "Alright, looks like I should write a letter to Lupin."
"When the three of us live together in Place Grimoire, I dare say it will be much more lively than here."
"This matter is not urgent for now."
Harry spread his fingers and placed them on the hilt of the ring-shaped knife at his waist, a cold glint flashing in his eyes. "That scoundrel has been using my name to rake in money, yet he hasn't sent a single drop of gold or silver as tribute!"
"I'm usually too busy, but today I can head to Diagon Alley and settle old scores with that goblin Legnac."
Upon hearing the word "liquidation," Blake's heart immediately itched with excitement, as if a cat were scratching inside his chest, and he cried out impatiently:
"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go!"
"Let me help you pack!"
Upon hearing this, Black didn't reply. He combined two steps into one, leaped ahead of Harry, and scrambled up the stairs. It was truly a case of: a hungry tiger pouncing on its prey finding the path too narrow, and a vanguard rushing through a pass complaining the sky was too low.
He rushed into the room and, with practiced ease, helped pack the luggage as if he were a regular.
First, he folded several robes neatly and stuffed them tightly into the trunk; then he filled his schoolbag with stacks of books and homework.
Just as I was tidying up the bedside, I suddenly noticed a yellowed old copy of "Jin Ping Mei" placed right next to my pillow.
Although Black did not know Chinese characters, he had seen Harry often holding and reading it carefully, and he thought it was some kind of classic book.
He picked it up in his hand and flipped it over casually, making his eyes widen like copper bells, unable to blink for a long time!
It turned out that the book was full of tender and romantic illustrations, making one blush and feel hot, and also broadening one's horizons. Indeed: the clouds and rain of Wushan are all paintings, and the spring feelings of Chu are all captured in the pictures.
Blake was stunned, his mind reeling.
What kind of book is this?
That's so inappropriate!
Even without reading the text, just looking at these illustrations, one can tell that this is a truly banned book!
His face changed several times in an instant, first with surprise and doubt, then with bewilderment, then with secret joy, but finally he frowned, forcibly suppressing the turmoil in his heart, and pretending to be nonchalant.
In another month, Harry will be a big kid.
Ah... it seems like James started around his age...
As he was lost in his own wild speculations, he suddenly heard the door hinges rattle. He hurriedly threw the book onto the couch, turned around and started to tidy up his schoolbag, wishing he could stuff his eight-and-a-half-pound head straight into it.
After a few moments of rest, all their belongings were packed and ready.
The two men strapped the trunk to the motorcycle, summoned Kreacher and Dobby, two servants, and ordered them to drive the vehicle back to the old house in Grimmauld Place.
Immediately afterward, Black used Apparition to teleport Harry to the Leaky Cauldron.
The two men turned into Diagon Alley through the back door, and Harry headed straight for Legnark's armory.
Black kept stealing glances at Harry, but made no attempt to hide it, which the young man quickly noticed.
Harry couldn't contain himself any longer and asked, clasped his hands, "Father, please speak freely. Why are you behaving like those sheltered young ladies, only stealing glances at people?"
Blake, unfazed by his questioning, cleared his throat and said:
"Cough, it's nothing. I just suddenly remembered that when James first publicly announced his pursuit of Lily, it seemed to be your age."
"By the way, Harry, do you have a girl you like?"
These words were like a bolt from the blue, startling Harry so much that he stumbled and nearly fell.
He thought to himself in surprise: Damn it! My godfather is too impatient! Back in the Song Dynasty, I didn't have a matchmaker come to propose marriage until I was over twenty.
He's only fourteen years old now, why are you already pressuring him?
Harry shook his head. "What nonsense are you talking about, Godfather! My mind is only on that bastard Voldemort; I'm itching to hate him all day long. How could I possibly have time to think about romance?"
Blake listened to his resounding words and nodded in agreement, but secretly pondered to himself.
It seems you're too embarrassed to tell me.
Is it to maintain his image as a savior?
Hmm~ Won't this lead to sexual repression if it goes on for a long time?
He was pondering how to gently comfort Harry when he suddenly stopped in his tracks.
Looking up, they found themselves in front of the Legnac weapons shop. The two wooden doors were wide open, and a blue-faced demon sat on the counter, yawning incessantly.
The goblin caught sight of Harry and hastily swallowed back the half-yawn, then twisted its neck and hissed wildly inside:
"Mr. Legnak! Harry Potter is here!"
After that shout, the clanging of blacksmiths in the shop came to an abrupt halt.
Suddenly, the one-eared Legnack leaped out and stared intently at Harry.
"Long time no see, Mr. Potter."
When they met again the following year, Legnark's eyes were like iron hooks, fixed on the ring knife at Harry's waist.
Harry, seeing the intensity in his gaze, felt a surge of anger and coldly said:
"You scoundrel, you used my name to open this shop, and you clearly stated the 30% profit margin to me!"
"A year has passed, and not a single ounce of gold or silver has been seen. Could it be that you've been playing your grandfather for a three-year-old child?"
Unperturbed, Legnac slowly and deliberately sat down in the sandalwood chair, his ten withered fingers interlaced in front of his abdomen, and grinned, revealing a mouthful of sharp, gleaming teeth:
"Don't rush, Mr. Potter. Fairies are long-lived creatures, and our profit sharing is based on a default period of five years—"
Before he could finish speaking, a loud "bang" was heard as Blake slammed his large palm on the desk, causing the writing brush, ink, paper, and inkstone to jump.
"What! So you're saying this is our problem!"
"I don't have Harry's good temper!"
Legnac, having lived a long time, knew that the Black family were all eccentric and paranoid. He dared not put on airs any longer and quickly changed his tune:
"Of course not, this is the fairy's dereliction of duty. I can settle all of Mr. Potter's rightful profits today."
Having said that, he quickly gave the vixen on the counter a wink, and she scrambled off to the back room.
In the time it takes to drink half a cup of tea, the demon led three or five of her companions back.
The fairies each held their ledgers and gathered in a circle, engrossed in their calculations. The shop was silent for a moment, except for the soft rustling of paper and pen against each other.
Harry and Black's four cold eyes were fixed on Legnark.
The demon, feeling extremely uncomfortable, finally couldn't bear it any longer. She rubbed her hands together, leaned forward, and said with a fawning smile:
"Mr. Potter, please allow me to take care of your ring knife."
"After all, this is a long story to tell, and I don't think you'd be too willing to just sit here doing nothing."
Harry was pleased. "If you had been smarter earlier, Grandpa wouldn't have had to cut off your ear!" With that, he took the ring knife from his waist and threw it over.
When Legnac heard the old story brought up again, his face turned red and then pale, but he was already captivated by the flying scabbard.
He caught the air with both hands, swaying twice before regaining his balance. Gripping the hilt tightly, he drew the sword three inches, his eyes gleaming with a strange light, and murmured in a daze:
"Honey...it's so wonderful..."
After standing there in a daze for a moment, Legnac suddenly came to his senses and, holding his knife, headed towards the back workshop.
Unexpectedly, after taking only three steps, a thunderous shout came from behind.
"Wait! Let me go with you!"
Legnack gritted his teeth and turned back, saying, "Mr. Potter, I admit you are an excellent warrior, but you have absolutely no talent for being a blacksmith."
Harry had no patience for any of this, and simply glared at him, "What do I care about talent or natural ability!"
"My job is to keep an eye on things here, to prevent you from doing anything underhanded!"
Legnac's eyes twitched, but he didn't say much and could only lead him into the back workshop.
The demon rolled up her sleeves, first took a rhinoceros horn comb, dipped it in grease, and carefully applied it along the blade; then she wrapped the dragon skin cloth around the hilt, her five fingers flying as she tied a seven-treasure necklace knot.
The ring knife sometimes shone like the moon reflected in a cold pool, and sometimes it seemed like a golden snake soaring into the sky, leaving Harry dazzled.
About the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, Blake suddenly rushed over and shouted:
"Harry, those goblins have already settled their scores!"
Just then, Legnac let out a long sigh, returned the knife with both hands, his eyes filled with reluctance.
"If you have some free time, you can bring him here for further care."
Harry didn't say anything, but simply took the brocade money bag that Black handed him.
After weighing it in his hand, he realized there were probably three or four thousand inside.
He exclaimed in surprise, "Your blacksmith shop certainly knows how to do business; your sales are booming!"
Legnack lowered his head meekly, "This is all thanks to Mr. Potter's reputation."
"Ha! You scoundrel, now you know how to be virtuous. Next year on this day, you must deliver your gold and silver directly to my treasury, and don't make me waste my breath!"
With that, Harry tucked the ring knife back into his waistband, slung the money bag over his shoulder, and strode out of the shop with Black, making the door rattle.
As the two figures disappeared into the crowd in Diagon Alley, Legnack suddenly changed his appearance, let out three maniacal laughs, lunged towards the corner of the wall, and rushed to the front of the hall with his hands as if holding something, tears welling up in his eyes, crying out:
"Look carefully!"
"The fairy has reclaimed his treasure from the foolish wizard!"
"Three hundred and seventy-eight days and one night! I finally got it back!"
When he spoke, all the demons clapped and cheered, their cheers like boiling water churning.
Before the cheers had even subsided, a large, fan-like hand suddenly descended from the sky, slapping Legnack's head so hard it made it buzz.
But then a chilling voice rang out from behind, its murderous aura as sharp as the coldest winter wind.
"You bastard! No wonder you didn't meet the blade hilt together!"
The story goes: A cunning demon hides a knife in secret; greed only leads to karmic retribution. Don't think your schemes are clever; there are always those more capable than you. To find out what happens next, stay tuned for the next chapter.
(End of this chapter)