On the morning of November 1, Lin Ze was woken by the fluttering of wings.
At least a dozen owls were flapping about outside his window.
Rubbing his eyes, Lin Ze climbed out of bed and opened the window. A barn owl slapped a copy of the Daily Prophet straight into his face, hard enough to nearly flatten his nose.
"Fuck-"
He swore and peeled the newspaper off his face.
"The Dark Lord falls! You-Know-Who defeated last night in Godric's Hollow!"
Below it was a moving photograph.
The Potter family's half-destroyed house was smoking, and a group of Aurors bustled around the ruins. A few neighbors in pajamas stood in the distance, one of them a man in a purple dressing gown with hair like a bird's nest, gesticulating wildly at the camera.
Lin Ze stared at the purple figure for three seconds, then let out a sigh of relief.
Quinn Travers was still alive.
"That idiot." Lin Ze chuckled, then leaned against the windowsill and began reading the newspaper carefully.
The report was decidedly sensational.
There was "the Dark Lord's reign of terror has finally ended," "The Chosen One, Harry Potter, defeated the most dangerous Dark wizard in history as a mere infant," and "the long-awaited dawn of peace has come to the wizarding world."
Lin Ze clicked his tongue in wonder as he read.
"It's only been a few hours, and the newspaper people have already worked overtime to rush this out? Pretty efficient."
He turned to the second page.
The second page covered the Death Eaters, with the headline "Death Eaters flee in panic following the Dark Lord's fall."
The accompanying photograph showed several hooded figures scrambling away from the entrance to Knockturn Alley, along with a Death Eater pinned to the ground by an Auror, his mask half off to reveal half a face contorted with terror.
The third page carried a statement from the Minister for Magic.
Harold Minchum had delivered a strongly worded speech declaring that the Ministry of Magic would conduct a thorough reckoning of all Death Eaters and their supporters, showing no leniency to any criminal who had betrayed the wizarding world.
"It's finally started."
He closed the newspaper and turned to look out the window.
Cheers were already coming from the direction of Diagon Alley. He could faintly hear someone singing "Ode to Joy," though badly out of tune.
Wizards emerged from their hiding places onto the streets. Some hugged one another and laughed in excitement, some fell to their knees and sobbed uncontrollably, and a few young wizards darted back and forth through the air on broomsticks, leaving colorful trails as though holding a belated Halloween celebration.
Lin Ze watched the scene in silence for a long while.
Voldemort had ruled the wizarding world for so many years, killed so many people, and driven the entire wizarding world into a desperate state where everyone feared for their own safety.
And now, he was dead.
Defeated by a baby.
Although Lin Ze knew the truth was nowhere near as romantic as the newspapers made it sound-the ancient protective magic Lily had cast with her life was the true reason for Voldemort's downfall-what the whole wizarding world needed right now was a hero, not a complicated piece of magical theory.
"Harry Potter, The Chosen One."
Lin Ze repeated the name, then smiled.
"That title will last you a lifetime."
When Lin Ze went to wash up, he discovered he still hadn't bought toothpaste. He had come back too late last night and forgotten.
He stared for a few seconds at the toothpaste tube, squeezed as flat as a sheet of paper, then decisively gave up. He rinsed his mouth with water and tossed in a mint for some psychological comfort.
The face in the mirror was as young as ever, with a faint layer of stubble sprouting on his chin.
He rubbed his chin and decided not to shave today.
"The first day after Voldemort's downfall. I'll celebrate by keeping some stubble," he told his reflection, then thought even he found that excuse ridiculous.
Putting on his dark gray coat, slipping his wand into an inside pocket, and stuffing an orange Quinn had given him yesterday into another pocket, Lin Ze opened his door.
He ran straight into Prewett as soon as he stepped outside.
For once, the old wizard wasn't wearing his potion-stained dressing gown. Instead, he had changed into reasonably presentable dark brown robes, and his graying hair was neatly combed.
"Morning, Mr. Prewett," Lin Ze greeted him.
"Morning." Prewett wore an excited expression Lin Ze had never seen on him before.
"Have you seen the paper? You-Know-Who has fallen! That damned Dark Lord is finally dead!"
"I have."
"Wonderful! I can finally brew my potions in peace!"
Prewett slapped his thigh, his wrinkled face blooming into a smile.
"Do you know how many cauldrons of potion I've ruined these past few months? Every time I heard the sound of the Dark Mark outside my window, my hands would start shaking uncontrollably."
Lin Ze recalled the last time that female creditor had cornered Prewett at his door. I doubt the Dark Lord was entirely to blame for your ruined potions.
"So what are you planning to do today?" he asked casually.
"Celebrate!" Prewett swept his robes aside with quite an imposing flourish.
"First, I'll go to Diagon Alley and buy fifty Galleons' worth of potion ingredients, then come back and brew a cauldron of double-strength Elixir to Induce Euphoria! The whole wizarding world ought to have a drink today!"
"But that female creditor of yours..."
"She probably won't have time to chase me for money today!"
Grinning like a child who had just received a bag of sweets, Prewett turned toward the stairs.
After a few steps, he looked back and added in a lowered voice, "Besides, I just heard that crazy woman fled to France with her whole family last night. Apparently her husband was an informant for the Death Eaters. Ha! No need to repay that debt. Long live Merlin!"
Watching Prewett's gleeful figure disappear down the stairs, Lin Ze shook his head with a smile.
When he stepped out of the apartment building, the sight outside stunned him.
The streets that had been deserted yesterday were now packed with wizards in all sorts of brightly colored robes.
Some held little flags printed with "Potter, The Chosen One," some were hanging colorful magical lanterns on lampposts, and others had simply set up makeshift roadside stalls selling "special-price wand holsters to celebrate the Dark Lord's downfall" and "limited-edition Chosen One commemorative badges."
An owl wearing a pointed hat flew overhead, a little flag dangling from its claws that read, "Darkness has passed, light lives forever."
As the flag fluttered, Lin Ze noticed another line of small print: "Flag supplied by the Diagon Alley Flag Shop. Price: three Sickles."
Lin Ze bought a bacon sandwich from a breakfast stall on the street corner and found that the stallholder, in a good mood today, had added two extra slices of bacon.
The sandwich weighed heavily in his hand, and he even wondered whether it really had been enchanted.
Munching his sandwich, he made his way through the cheering crowd toward the Ministry of Magic.
Outside the Leaky Cauldron, Old Tom stood on the steps with a glass of Butterbeer raised in his hand, shouting, "This one's on me!" to everyone who passed.
When he spotted Lin Ze, he made a point of pouring another glass and handing it over.
"Were you all right yesterday? I was worried all night!"
"I'm fine." Lin Ze took the glass and clinked it against Old Tom's.
"Tom, are you planning to empty your entire stock?"
"It's a happy day! All that drink I've had sitting around unsold for so long is free today!" Old Tom roared with laughter.
Lin Ze took a sip of Butterbeer. The warm liquid slid down his throat with the sweet fragrance of caramel.
He returned the glass to Old Tom, then went through the public telephone box and entered the Ministry of Magic.
The atmosphere in the atrium was even livelier than outside.
The fountain's jets rose to more than twice their usual height, and golden magical sprays burst in midair, scattering countless tiny points of light.
Witches and wizards gathered in little groups. Some read the Daily Prophet's front-page headline aloud, some exchanged the rumors they had heard last night, and a few elderly wizards sat on benches clutching handkerchiefs, tears streaming down their faces.
Lin Ze passed through the bustling crowd and headed toward the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
He had applied for a transfer back to the Auror Office yesterday.
More precisely, he had submitted his transfer application the moment news of Voldemort's downfall arrived.
The Records Management Office was a gold mine, true, but once you had finished mining the gold, you had to come out and sell it.
Now that Voldemort had fallen, the Ministry of Magic was about to face an unprecedented purge, and a purge meant vacancies, while vacancies meant opportunities.
Now was the time to put the dirt he had gathered in the Records Office to use.
When he reached Scrimgeour's office, Lin Ze found the door half open, with hearty laughter coming from inside.
He knocked on the doorframe.
"Come in!"
Scrimgeour sat behind his desk holding a steaming cup of black tea, his face wearing a relaxed expression Lin Ze had never seen before.
Seeing Lin Ze enter, he set down his cup and beckoned him over.
"You rascal. I hear you got into another fight with Death Eaters in Diagon Alley yesterday? Frick told me a bicycle fell out of the sky and knocked over several Death Eaters?"
"That's right." Lin Ze sat down opposite Scrimgeour.
"Never mind. What matters is that you're all right." Scrimgeour waved a hand.
"But you have to tell me who that cyclist was. A wizard who can knock Death Eaters unconscious like that is someone I'd like to meet."
"His name is Quinn Travers. He lives in Godric's Hollow," Lin Ze answered truthfully.
Scrimgeour's expression shifted slightly.
"Travers? Which Travers?"
"He said his branch left the ancestral home long ago. They're not from the same family as that Travers."
Scrimgeour fell silent for a moment, then slowly nodded.
"Travers of Godric's Hollow... perhaps he's worth meeting."
Scrimgeour picked up his cup again and took a sip of tea, then took a document from his desk and pushed it toward Lin Ze.
"Mr. Crouch has approved your transfer application. Starting today, you'll return to the Auror Office as assistant team leader of the Special Operations Team."
Lin Ze took the document and quickly scanned it.
"Special Operations Team?"
"Newly formed. Confidential for now." Scrimgeour leaned back in his chair.
"This team's job is to assist the Wizengamot in investigating and arresting Death Eaters and their associates. In plain terms, we're rooting out the moles inside the Ministry of Magic."
"The Minister has given strict orders. This time, we're to purge them completely. Not a single one gets away."
He stressed "not a single one gets away" with particular force, as though hammering in a nail.
Lin Ze folded the document and slipped it into his coat's inside pocket.
"Sir, can I request that certain people be investigated first?"
Scrimgeour raised his eyebrows. "You already have targets?"
"Yes." Lin Ze's tone was casual.
"And it's quite a long list."