Chapter 529: Is Dawlish That Decent? (Edited)

The magic wand is a tool used by wizards to amplify their magic. It is typically made with a core of some magical creature's tissue and a wooden body. Can magical metal work as a wand body? Many wand makers have explored this possibility.

Mr. Ollivander was no exception.

Unfortunately, Mr. Ollivander, like other wand makers, failed in this aspect. He only left behind a giant wand made of magical silver, perhaps it would be more appropriate to call it a staff.

Mr. Ollivander's magical silver wand was thick as two fingers and measured two meters in length. Just lifting it already required a lot of effort, not to mention performing the complicated movements to cast spells.

Tom didn't have the knowledge or skill in wand making like Mr. Ollivander; he couldn't turn that silver staff into a functional wand. But he could modify it to become a large-scale magic amplifier. Through the magical inscriptions on its surface, he could cast some specific spells without the need for complicated motions.

During the summer holidays, Tom had been modifying this staff, and it was already 80% complete.

Today, Tom felt that it was time to test it at this stage. The full form of this staff was meant to be used against Voldemort, so its current state, as a work in progress, would also serve as a lesson to Voldemort's followers.

Tom put on a wizard's robe and took the staff from his luggage. The staff's body, which was originally long and smooth, was now covered in numerous intertwined magical inscriptions. The inscriptions converged into a groove in the middle and slightly upward on the staff, right where Tom's wand would fit.

After fitting his own wand, the staff began to tremble slightly. Tom raised the staff and with a strong thrust, he drove it into the ground. From the tip of the staff, golden sparks scattered like fireworks, causing Tom's fingers to warm slightly.

"Very well." Tom was satisfied with the effect; he knew that his wand had successfully established a connection with the staff. He picked up the staff and walked with Hermione's three-headed dog Patronus to the heart of the camp: a large four-story tent, perfect for casting his own spells.

At this moment, Ministry employees had already arrived near the procession and were desperately trying to approach the hooded and masked wizards, but they were blocked by an invisible barrier and couldn't get close.

"Actors," Tom murmured quietly. He realized that many of the Ministry employees weren't putting in any real effort; they were just pretending to work hard for the rescue, but in reality, they weren't doing anything effective.

The wizards in the procession continued to advance in an organized manner, setting fire to the tents in their path. Meanwhile, Ministry wizards could only watch helplessly. They were caught between the desire to retreat without orders and the fear of attacking the crowd with magic. The weakness and rigidity of the Ministry of Magic were on full display.

If this continues, the Ministry of Magic will be made a mockery of, and the Death Eaters will gain more strength.

Tom quickened his pace and quickly arrived at the center of the camp. The tent, as tall as a castle, displayed several scorch marks. It was evident that the Death Eaters had focused on this emblematic building and had cast several fire spells, but the tent seemed to be fireproof, as the spells hadn't set it ablaze.

At that moment, the door of the "castle" opened, and Tom effortlessly entered the luxurious tent, climbing the stairs to reach the top.

There was a mess of objects everywhere, as if the shop owner had held a barbecue here before the commotion. But when the chaos began, the shop owner had fled.

"What are you doing? Come down immediately!" Just as Tom reached the top, he heard an anxious and familiar voice from below. Tom looked down and chuckled; it was his old acquaintance, Dawlish.

"Mr. Dawlish, what are you doing here?" he shouted back to Dawlish.

"I'm going to stop those lunatics, and besides, I should be the one asking: what are you doing?"

"The same as you, stopping them."

Dawlish was dumbfounded to hear this.

As an on-duty Auror, he had been patrolling the Ireland camp, trying to physically persuade the restless Irish. When he heard that something had gone wrong here, he rushed over and found someone climbing a large tent with a long pole.

He asked the individual what their objective was, and the person told him they had come to calm the chaos. Dawlish was confused; there was no one of that sort at the Ministry, and besides, what was that staff they were carrying? He took a closer look and saw the strange silver figure, and suddenly recognized the person on the roof—it was Tom Yodel!

Was he planning to use his Patronus to charge at the crowd? It seemed like a plausible idea, but he was just a child! Dawlish believed that Yodel genuinely wanted to solve the problem, but he had serious doubts about whether he had the capability to do so.

Dawlish climbed up to the tent and addressed Tom seriously, "This is very dangerous; you should take shelter with your family. Let us, the professionals, handle this."

Tom looked at Dawlish oddly. He didn't expect this individual to say something so positive. In his mind, Dawlish had always been a mess...

"Don't look at me like that! I'm an Auror!" Dawlish's pride was trampled by Tom's gaze, and he protested angrily.

"That's perfect, then stay here and protect me. The pre-launch of my spell takes a little longer." Tom averted his gaze from Dawlish and focused on the advancing crowd. When Mr. Weasley and the others arrived, the situation stabilized. Under his command, Ministry wizards and the Death Eater followers engaged in a duel of spells. More and more wizards joined the Ministry's side, and perhaps, if this continued, after a few hours, the Death Eaters would grow tired and leave using Apparition.

Tom couldn't accept that approach.

He thrust the staff in front of him, gripping the part where his own wand was embedded with both hands, and took a deep breath.

"Atmospheric-ventus!"

The wind... rose!

From the staff, a gentle breeze was generated. The breeze circled around the staff in widening circles.

Soon, the faint breeze became stronger, lifting the oven and alcohol bottles on top of the tent. Tom started to sweat; this spell required more magical power than he had imagined!

Huff! Tom breathed deeply again, raised the staff, and struck it hard on top of the tent, causing the ground to tremble. The whirlwind expanded several times and floated toward the marching crowd.