Chapter 1267

At least there is still a harvest, Fan Lin thought absentmindedly, and walked quickly towards the elevator with Ron.

It is worth mentioning that Ron became wet again. After Fan Lin lifted the spell, although Ron generally found a solution, those water pipes and ceilings were not as easy to deal with as imagined, and Fan Lin focused on those spells and magic circles. In the end, Ron still needed to ask professionals for help.

In fact, Ron himself is also a professional, of course, this is Ron's current identity.

Inevitably, the water once again made Ron embarrassed.

And the most intuitive, the string of wet footprints in the corridor is the best proof.

However, when opening the elevator, Fan Lin was a little stunned. The person in front of him was very familiar, but for a moment, Fan Lin hesitated.

"You two..." said the tall man in front of him.

"Ah, hello..." Ron scratched his head, he was not feeling well all over.

"So, what happened to you two? Ron, Vanlin, it's me, Harry!" Harry said in the car, matching his majestic figure now...

"Harry! Oh, I forgot what you look like..." Ron said, "Those damn water pipes are really annoying."

"Harry?" Vanlin was stunned, he leaned behind Harry, "Why isn't Hermione with you?"

"She had to go to the courtroom downstairs with Umbridge, she couldn't refuse, and..."

But before Harry finished speaking, the elevator stopped again. After the door opened, Mr. Weasley walked in while talking with an old witch, her hair was tied up high, like an anthill.

"Oh, hello, Lei," Mr. Weasley heard the sound of water dripping on Ron's robe and looked around. "Didn't your wife come to ask anything today? Uh-what's wrong? Why are you soaked?"

"It's raining in Yaxley's office," Ron said evasively, trying not to look into Mr. Weasley's eyes.

There are always some special connections between relatives, right? Ron was probably afraid that he would not be able to continue after looking into Mr. Weasley's eyes.

"I can't make it stop, so... so I think I should go to Bernie Pilesworth. I think they are saying..."

Ron stuttered,

"Yes, it's been raining in many offices recently," said Mr. Weasley. "Have you tried to find Metrolo Jinx Rekato? It works for Bletchley."

"Metrolo Jinx Rekato?" Ron whispered. "No, I haven't. Thank you, Dad... I mean, thank you, Arthur."

The elevator door opened, and the old witch with the anthill hairstyle walked out. Ron ran past her and disappeared from the sight of Vanlin and Harry.

However, before the two of them could catch up, they found that Percy Weasley strode into the elevator and blocked their way.

Percy was reading something with his head buried in a few pages of paper. When the elevator door jingled shut again, he realized that he was in an elevator with his father.

When he looked up and saw Mr. Weasley, his face immediately turned as red as a carrot. When the elevator door opened again, he ran out quickly.

So Harry and Vanlin planned to try to get off the elevator again, but this time, Mr. Weasley blocked them with his arms, or to be exact, Harry.

"Wait a minute, Lancorn." The elevator closed and carried them down with a jingle. At this time, Mr. Weasley said, "I heard that you have news about Dirk Cresswell."

Harry felt that Mr. Weasley's anger had intensified because of the small conflict with Percy just now, so he thought his best choice was to play dumb.

"What did you say?"

"Don't play dumb, Lancorn," Mr. Weasley said irritably, "You caught the wizard who forged his family tree, didn't you?"

"I...even if I caught it, what would happen?" Harry said.

"I say, Dirk Cresswell is a wizard ten times better than you," Mr. Weasley said quietly, as the elevator descended further. "If he escapes from Azkaban alive, you will have to answer to him, not to mention his wife, son, and his friends..."

"Arthur," Harry interrupted him, "You know you are being watched, right?"

"Are you threatening me, Lankorn?" Mr. Weasley said loudly.

"No," Harry said, "It's a fact! They are watching your every move-" The elevator door opened. They had reached the middle hall. Mr. Weasley gave Harry a stern look and walked out of the elevator quickly.

Harry stood there, trembling slightly. How he wished he had become someone else instead of Lankorn... The elevator door clanked shut again, leaving only Vanlin and Harry.

"Mr. Weasley is no longer suitable to stay here, Harry!" Vanlin said silently, and Harry did not respond, just listened to the sound of the elevator slowly descending.

Now, while Ron went to deal with the rainy offices, he and Vanlin had to try to rescue Hermione.

To be exact, if there was any problem, Fanlin would definitely pull out his wand without a doubt.

"We are here!" Fanlin said, and then he walked out first.

This was a stone passage lit by torches, completely different from the corridors above with wooden floors and carpets.

The elevator creaked away again. It was a little cold around, which made Harry tremble slightly. He looked at the black door at the entrance of the Department of Mysteries in the distance.

Fanlin was standing aside waiting. Only Harry had been to the interrogation room. It was better not to run around the Department of Mysteries.

Harry took a step, not to the black door, but to the doorway leading to a staircase that led down to the courtroom in his memory.

At the same time, Harry walked down the stairs slowly while thinking of various possible plans in his mind, a plan that could reduce the risk of rescue.

Fanlin had not even fully recovered yet. It was obviously not a good idea to take action here. He still had some bait bombs on him, but maybe it would be better to knock on the door of the courtroom and go in directly as Lan Cohen to ask to speak to Mafalda?

Of course, he didn't know if Lancorn was important enough to pull off the plan, and even if he managed to do it, Hermione's disappearance might trigger a search before they could escape the Ministry of Magic...

Harry was lost in thought, and didn't immediately notice the unusual chill that was gradually approaching him, as if he had fallen into an icy mist. He felt colder with every step he took, a cold enough to freeze his throat and tear his internal organs apart. Then he felt the despair, the feeling of helplessness enveloping him, spreading through his body...

"There are Dementors!" Vanlin frowned, the feeling of cold forehead made him very uncomfortable, different from the coldness of temperature, it was a tremor from the heart.

When he went down to the bottom of the stairs and turned right, Vanlin and Harry saw a terrible scene.

The dark passage outside the courtroom was filled with tall, black-hooded figures, their faces completely hidden in their cloaks, and the only sound in the silent passage was the intermittent hoarse sound of their breathing.

The Muggle wizards who were brought in for questioning were obviously terrified, huddled together and shivering on the cold wooden benches. Most of them buried their faces deep in their hands, perhaps instinctively wanting to protect themselves from the eager and greedy lips of the Dementors. Some were accompanied by their families, while others sat alone.

The Dementors slid back and forth in front of them.

The cold, helplessness and despair there made Harry feel like a disaster. Overcome it, Harry told himself, but he knew that he could not summon a patronus here without exposing himself.

"Calm down, Harry!" Vanlin reached out and grabbed Harry, signaling him not to use his wand.

No one knew Harry's feelings about Dementors better than Vanlin, especially when these Dementors posed a threat to others, which naturally made Harry feel sympathetic.

"I know." Harry took a deep breath and tried to move forward as quietly as possible. With every step, Harry could feel the numbness creeping into his mind, but he forced himself to think of his friends in the series. They needed him.

It was terrible to pass through those tall black figures: as Harry and Vanlin passed by them, the eyeless faces hidden under the cloak suddenly turned.

Harry was sure that the Dementors felt him, felt, perhaps, the existence of a life that still had some hope and joy. Just then, in that terrible, almost frozen silence, the door of a dungeon on the left side of the corridor suddenly opened, and screams echoed out.

"No, no, I'm a half-blood, I'm a half-blood, I tell you! My father was a wizard, he was, look him up, Archie Alderton, he was a famous broom handle designer, look him up, I tell you... take your hands off me, take your hands off..."

"This is your last warning," Umbridge said in her sweet, magically amplified voice, making it still clear amid the man's desperate cries.

"If you struggle again, I'll give you a 'Dementor's Kiss'"

The man's screams subsided, but his dry sobs still echoed in the corridor.

"Take him away," said Umbridge. Two Dementors appeared in the corridor outside the courtroom and grabbed the arms of the wizard who seemed to be unconscious with their stinking, scabby hands. They carried him and slid away along the corridor, and wherever they went, it gradually darkened and lost light until nothing could be seen.

"Next... Mary Katemore," Umbridge called. A small woman stood up, shivering from head to toe. She was wearing a simple robe, and her black hair was tied into a bun at the back of her head. Her face was pale. As she passed the Dementors, Harry and Vanlin could clearly see her trembling under the invisibility cloak.

As the door slowly closed, Harry and Vanlin quickly followed her into the dungeon...

This was completely instinctive, without any plan beforehand, because he hated the sight of her walking into the dungeon alone.

This was not the dungeon where Harry had been interrogated for misuse of magic in the past. This was smaller, although the ceiling was still low... It gave people a feeling of being imprisoned at the bottom of a deep well, as if they were suffering from claustrophobia. There were more Dementors inside, standing expressionlessly like sentinels in the corners of the room, and the chill they exuded enveloped the entire dungeon.

Behind the railing of the judge's platform sat Umbridge, with Yaxley on one side and Hermione, who was as pale as Mrs. Cattermole, on the other.

For a moment, Harry could clearly feel that Vanlin was about to rush out, but this time it was he who stopped Vanlin.

Under the platform, a silver long-haired cat was patrolling back and forth. Harry realized that it was used to protect the plaintiffs from being infected by the despair released by the Dementors: despair was for the defendants, not for the plaintiffs.

"Please sit down." Umbridge said in her sweet voice.

Mrs. Cattermole stumbled down the platform and sat down on a single chair in the middle of the ground floor. The shackles that popped out from the armrests of the chair immediately tied her up.

"Are you Mary-Elizabeth-Catemore?" Umbridge asked. Mrs. Cattermole nodded tremblingly.

"You are married to Reginald Cattermole of the Magical Maintenance Department, right?"

Mrs. Cattermole suddenly burst into tears.

"I don't know where he is. He should be waiting for me here!" Umbridge ignored her.

"You are the mother of Maisie, Ellie and Alfred Cattermole, right?"

Mrs. Cattermole cried even harder.

"They must be terrified. They thought I couldn't go home..."

"Excuse me," Yaxley interrupted her. "We don't sympathize with mudblood children."

Mrs. Cattermole's sobs covered the footsteps of Harry and Valin, allowing them to carefully come to the stairs leading to the trial platform. The moment Harry passed through the area where the patronus cats paraded, he clearly felt the difference in the atmosphere: it was warm and comfortable. He was sure that the cat was the patronus summoned by Umbridge, and it was emitting a dazzling light, because Umbridge was very happy here-this was her territory, and she was enforcing the law that she helped write that was not at all upright.

Harry and Valin moved slowly on the platform behind Umbridge, Yaxley and Hermione very carefully, and then sat down in a row behind them where no one was.

Vanlin was a little worried that Hermione would jump in fright.

He even considered casting a "silencing" spell on Umbridge and Yaxley, or just killing them all? But even the sound of whispering a spell would alert Hermione.

At this time, Umbridge raised her voice to speak to Mrs. Cattermole, and Vanlin seized this opportunity.

"I'm behind you." He whispered in Hermione's ear. As he expected, Hermione was startled and almost knocked over the ink bottle used to record the conversation, but Umbridge and Yaxley's attention was on Mrs. Cattermole, so Hermione's actions were not discovered.

"When you arrived at the Ministry of Magic today, we searched you for a wand, Mrs. Cattermole," said Umbridge, "eight and three-quarters inches, cherry wood, with a unicorn hair inside. Is that right?"

Mrs. Cattermole nodded and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "Can you tell us which wizard you took this wand from?"

"Take...take?" Mrs. Cattermole sobbed, "I didn't take...take it from anyone. I bought this wand when I was eleven years old, and it...it...it chose me." She cried even harder than before. (To be continued)