[Comprehensive British and American] Justice Passerby

When he returned, there was only the notebook in Potter's hand.

Freya took a quick glance before leaving, and there were dense records written on it in beautiful cursive script.She couldn't read it, but Potter seemed very used to the handwriting, and read it several times along the way, showing a thoughtful expression from time to time.

The atmosphere then sank, Minister Potter's thoughts were all on his notes, and Diana seemed a little restless for some reason, Freya secretly wrote down this discovery, and planned to ask her what happened after she left the wizard's territory. What happened.

After stepping into the elevator, there was a small bump, and it was only when Potter regained his senses.He put the notes together and said, "I'm going to the fifth floor to get an international magic license, and then record my own traces. I have a friend who works on the fifth floor, and her wisdom has always been beyond the reach of others. Since Hermione has been my source of practical advice since I was a student, and I had to meet her before I set out to talk about what I found today at the Department of Fantastic Beasts."

Of course the other two readily agreed.

The elevator went up one floor.

The fifth floor is the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Unlike the din of various magical animals on the fourth floor, there are many people coming and going on the fifth floor, and not only the British.Freya alone heard that besides the British pronunciation, there are several American southern accents and a little bit of French.

"Felix Elixir, smuggle/smuggle—" a male voice with a Texas accent came from behind a half-open door.

"Always," Potter muttered. "The Silencing and Secrecy Charms that were put on the doors when the Ministry was rebuilt don't work, and these guys never remember to close the doors."

"Wait," Freya tilted her head to one side, "Is that Russian? Did I hear Russian? Are there wizards in Russia?"

Diana smiled and shook her head. After listening for a few seconds, she said, "Wizards are distributed all over the world, but here, I can hear at least 20 languages."

Freya raised her hand in surrender.

The hall on the fifth floor is circular, and it seems that the new Ministry of Magic favors this architectural style with the branch offices surrounding the middle hall.

The two of them stopped at a place with the most traffic along with Minister Potter, and the humming and complaining could be heard in the distance.There were three doors in that corner, each with a gold nameplate.In front of the leftmost aisle, about four or five people were waiting for work. The three ladies praised each other for their clothes, and another tall and thin man kept using the time revealing spell, his face extremely anxious.Hearing the sound of footsteps, they all turned their heads casually, and then they were all taken aback.

"Merlin—are you—" the lady with the blonde curly hair struggled as if she couldn't breathe.

Potter nodded. He wanted to pass through the excited girls, but the visitors in the hall were startled by the scream just now, and started rushing here.

"Harry Potter!"

Freya heard people whispering.

"Merlin," said the anxious man.

"Hello." Potter sighed, and had to stop to greet the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, I wish you a good afternoon."

"Savior, will you defeat the mysterious man again!"

someone shouted loudly.

Potter looked in that direction, and the crowd involuntarily backed away, revealing the man who had just spoken.

There was awe in his expression, eagerness and a little timidity after impulsiveness, but his eyes were still asking for answers.

"I'll do what I can," Potter said finally, after looking at him for a moment.

The crowd visibly lightened, as if the promise of a savior was like the final permission that the war would be won.They surrounded him like a fighter long triumphant and about to go to battle with sword.

"His prestige is high." Diana said, crossing her arms.

Freya nodded. Indeed, it can be seen from the titles of wizards, "Savior", she chewed on this title. The last person with this name was Jesus, the Son of God.

It took several minutes for the crowd to disperse, allowing a passage, so that Potter and his two guests could finally reach their destination.

A black stately door with a nameplate that read - "International Office of Magical Law".

The four people who were waiting here first hesitated around.

Potter motioned for the others to move forward, but no one moved in front of him.So the savior had to show an apologetic smile and walked to the front of the line.

He knocked on the wooden door and said clearly, "I'm looking for Minister Weasley."

Suddenly a small piece popped open in the middle of the door, revealing the small grid hidden in the door.Sitting in the lattice is a statue of a fat ginger cat with a broom tail and a flat face, licking its own fur leisurely.

"Hermione Weasley," Potter repeated to whom he was visiting.

After a few seconds, the cat spoke. "Do you have an appointment? What's the date?"

"Tell her it's Harry Potter."

The big cat gave him a haughty look, and poked a tree scar in the grid with the tip of its paw.

"Harry Potter doesn't need an appointment," it said.

The small grid is automatically closed.The door opened, revealing an empty space behind.The space is boundless, with numerous cubicles separating different offices.

Seeing Freya's amazed expression, Potter explained: "All the big offices are like this, and so is the Auror office. I used to work there, but after being promoted and moved to the Auror Command, I'm not used to it. The old office."

The two guests smiled cooperatively.

They followed Potter to the depths. Freya stepped on the ground tentatively, and found that although it looked unreal, the ground really existed.Going around a dozen cubicles, all the way to the end of the room, past two immobile statues, they came to the minister's office.

"They won't move." Freya asked curiously.

"It was from Hermione's parents," Potter said, touching the head of one of the statues. "Her parents are both Muggles, and they sent these over when she was promoted."

"Lion," she followed suit, "a strong creature."

"Lion of Gryffindor," laughed Harry Potter.

He pushed open the door of the room.

This is a very tall and huge office, but except for the small space around the door, window and fireplace, the four walls are covered with books from floor to ceiling, and there are even various books suspended in the air like chandeliers.In the endless dark tones formed by the spine of the book, a bright color is moving.Freya focused her attention, and saw a woman floating beside a bookshelf, her fingers brushed over a book, and she muttered something.

"Min," Potter called the other person by his nickname affectionately, "what are you looking for? Do you need help?"

"Don't make trouble, Harry," the woman whose head was almost touching the ceiling—Minister Weasley—finally pulled out a book from the bookshelf, dropped it lightly to the ground, and showed, "American Magic "The Evolution of the Law", a cunning book, does not apply the Flying Charm, but the contents are very useful. You can take it with you when you go back to America."

Potter glanced at the thousands-page tome with a headache, waved his wand, and said in surprise, "It can't be shrunk?"

"It doesn't use any magic, Harry." Hermione smiled. "A masterpiece of American wizards."

Potter put the book on her desk with a grimace.

"So, this is the foreign friend that Professor Dumbledore said," Minister Weasley turned to them, her hair was tied into a bun, and she looked very lean, "Hi, I'm Hermione Weiss Lay, the head of the International Department of Magic and Law, I am the one who handles the international contacts regarding Death Eaters and werewolves this time. Please call me Hermione."

She led the guests to sit down on the sofa, and the teapot and teacups automatically jumped up to make afternoon tea.

While Freya stared at the tea leaves and jumped into the china cups, Harry explained what he had seen and heard downstairs.

"So," Hermione frowned after listening carefully, "you suspect that there is some power behind Voldemort. But Harry, in any case, we have to solve a problem first-whether to control or not, what is the reason for that person?" Means to bring Voldemort back to life."

"I've heard too many rumors that he's dead these days," Freya looked up. "Professor Dumbledore told me the same thing, but are you sure he's really dead?"

"All the Horcruxes Voldemort made are dead," said Harry, "including the one he unconsciously scattered on my forehead, whose master soul I killed in the final battle."

"He's dead." Hermione said decisively, "The Dark Mark has completely faded from the Death Eater's arm, and it didn't come back to people's sight until a few months ago."

"Maybe it's the Resurrection Stone," Harry said, "but the dead that the Resurrection Stone brings back are not themselves, how can it make the Dark Mark reappear, I don't understand. Dumbledore gave me the Resurrection Stone, and in the I saw my parents in the woods before the final battle, but that was far from being resurrected from the dead."

Diana was drinking tea from a teacup, and couldn't help but pause when she heard the words.

"Not the Resurrection Stone," she said succinctly. "Even though I'm a Muggle, there are few wizards who have seen more life magic than I have—magic does not transcend death."

They fell silent.

For a while, there was only the sound of tea boiling.

"Maybe someone related to him by blood?" said Hermione hesitantly. "Maybe it's blood magic, an inherited spell, not Voldemort himself?"

She spoke faster and faster, and finally waved her wand, and a dozen books flew down from all directions,

"A good guess, Minn," said Harry, "but I've searched many places, and there's no new Slytherin blood, and I haven't heard anything like it in the past few years. Most importantly Yes, three Death Eaters were given Veritaserum last week under the Wizengamot's authority. They swear it was Voldemort himself, though he was different."

"What's different?" Freya interjected.

Hermione's face scrunched up. "You haven't seen Voldemort. His appearance...is not in line with the aesthetics of normal people. With the continuous division of the soul, he finally turned into a snake face, which is considered disfigured."

"So he's as handsome as ever?" Diana raised an eyebrow.

"Do it all over again, maybe I regret that I ruined the capital of attracting young Death Eaters." Hermione joked.

"You said that you killed his entire soul. If he returns from the dead, then it is not unexplainable that he will be brought back in his original form." Freya changed her mind and said.

"The complexity of soul magic is beyond our imagination," Hermione said sternly, "the division of the soul is almost irreversible, not to mention the methods we used to eliminate the soul tablet back then, such as Fiercefire Curse, Basilisk's fangs, Gran Fendor's sword wiped them out of the world, and I see no chance of them being reconstituted in nothingness."

Another moment of silence.

"Maybe..." Freya said, "Have you ever thought that maybe this time his face wasn't damaged at all?"

Harry sat up straight.

"What does it mean?"

"Maybe we are going in the wrong direction," Freya further explained, "Maybe we are too focused on thinking about what power can bring the dead back to life. What if the people behind the scenes use other means, and the resurrection of the dead is just a side effect?"

"I see, I see." Hermione exclaimed suddenly.

The books on the shelf are falling like raindrops.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Time." Freya said, "If he doesn't change back to the past, if he is the past."

"The Time-Turner was completely destroyed years ago, which doesn't make sense." Harry was startled.

"The time converter is not the only one in the world that can return to the past timeline." Diana said,

"This conjecture may be the closest to the truth we've ever done." Hermione flipped through a book quickly, "When I read the Goblin Rebellion, I still didn't understand what this description meant—look, Harry!' He appeared again, and after 300 years, a black weapon issued from it. The wind was strong, the sky was full of dust, and the sun fell on the earth. His weapon fell into the river, and the river boiled; his weapon fell on the mountain, The mountain crumbled; his weapon fell upon the army, and all magic was lost. Abdul, our Elder, was found at last like a withered branch.'”

"The Goblin Rebellion in the seventeenth century," Hermione's eyes sparkled. "I always thought this description was some kind of powerful spell, but looking back, it's more like a bomb, Harry."

"'He appeared again,' alone, through timelines," Harry said.

"Who can do this." Freya's throat tightened, "Traveling through the timeline, this is almost the ability of a god."

"I know a person, or a thing," said Diana slowly.