Chapter 9 Umbridge's Road to Success

"Ah, here comes Lucius!" Fudge said in surprise after a brief introduction.

William turned his head and saw Lucius Malfoy and his silly son Draco. ?

Lucius was holding a wand in his hand, but the dove eggs were gone. It seems that he was plucked by the Ministry of Magic some time ago, and now he doesn't dare to "show off his wealth" in such a high-profile manner.

"Ah, Connelly," Malfoy held out his hand as he passed the Minister for Magic, "hello, I don't think you've seen my son Decora."?

"Hello," Fudge said, glancing at Draco, "here, let me introduce you to the recipients of the Merlin Medal."?

Malfoy nodded with a smile, obviously not wanting to miss this opportunity to broaden his network, otherwise there would be no need to attend the banquet.

He was listening to Fudge's introduction when he suddenly saw Mr. Weasley, as if he had been pricked by a needle, the smile on his face disappeared, and he left the minister and looked at Weasley affectionately.

The two stared at each other for a full twenty seconds, and neither was willing to take the lead to look away.

Malfoy glanced at his wand out of the corner of his eye and made sure that his dove egg was not there.

Mr. Weasley showed no sign of weakness. He loosened his neckline and seemed ready to take off his new robe at any moment and have a blast.

But no one took the initiative, the Minister of Magic was still here, and it would be unreasonable to do it first.

The same meaning flashed in their eyes: come here, come here!

"Don't, don't be like this." Fudge stood between the two of them, and whispered sternly: "It will make the other Ministers of Magic laugh!"

The two snorted coldly and took a half step back.

"Arthur, don't make trouble with Lucius in the future. He donated a building to the Ministry of Magic before Christmas. He is my guest of honor."

Fudge patted Mr. Weasley on the shoulder, clearly not wanting to embarrass Malfoy, the golden pig.

?

"Of course." A smile appeared on Mr. Weasley's face. "I'm very grateful to Mr. Malfoy for the donation. He definitely doesn't want to go to Azkaban for a few days."

Malfoy showed an ugly look, and being smashed by the Ministry of Magic was obviously not something to be happy about, even if he was rich!

"My God, Arthur," he sneered in an exaggerated tone, "I would like to donate buildings to the Ministry of Magic, but I am curious, what did you sell to get the invitation to the Merlin Medal?

sold the house?

But that shabby house isn't worth so much money, right? "

"Mr. Weasley doesn't need to sell the house, let alone donate it. He is my guest."

William, who had never spoken, replied with a faint smile on his face.

"The recipient of the Merlin Medal can invite 14 people. Mr. Malfoy has not received the Medal, so I probably don't know."

Mr. Malfoy's eyes swept over to William, his eyes icy, clearly recognizing the child who had recently made a name for himself.

William looked at him without flinching.

Draco's hands trembled unnaturally, and seeing the boy brought back bad memories.

He licked his dry lips and took a few steps back, a nightmare...he never eats ice cream again after that.

Lucius glanced at William, then at his parents and Hermione's parents, who were undoubtedly Muggles.

William slid the wand in his hand, and if Lucius dared to say some insulting words, he would definitely teach him a lesson in public without letting go.

Under the eyes of the Minister of Magic, Malfoy said nothing outrageous. He snorted sarcastically at Weasley, turned and pulled Decora to his seat.

"Take it easy, kid." Fudge laughed. "I think Lucius will know that the recipient of the medal from now on can invite fourteen people."

"I don't know, Minister, when you received the Merlin Medal,

Who will be invited? ' said a short, fat woman to Fudge's left suddenly.

The woman had a broad, slack face, and a little black velvet bow on her short curly hair. Her voice was high-pitched, like a little girl.

"What?" Fudge didn't seem to hear clearly, and he looked at the woman, "What did you just say?"

"I said Minister, you will definitely get a Merlin Medal, just in the past few years." The woman said in a sweet and greasy voice.

Fudge was taken aback, as if seeing this woman for the first time.

"Sorry, you are..."

"Dolores Umbridge, Mr. Minister." Umbridge's face was full of ingratiating smiles.

"Oh, I remember, last year you asked me to promote some books, I remember! I transferred you into the Auror office..."

The smile on Umbridge's face was a little stiff. Obviously, her strength did not meet the selection criteria of Aurors. She originally wanted to go in and get some gold plating, but this privileged airborne made her situation not very good.

After all, Rufus Scrimgeour, the head of the Auror's office, was not a good boss to talk to.

"You just said I would get the Merlin Medal?" Fudge asked interestedly, "Why do you say that?"

Umbridge showed the shyness of a little woman, and she complimented: "Under your leadership, Minister, the Ministry of Magic is prosperous, and has captured Tywin, the damned Death Eater, and the invention of the potion, the Wolf Poison Elixir. ...you deserve a medal for your contribution.

In my opinion, the Merlin First Class Medal is very suitable. "

Umbridge's eyes flashed with just the right amount of adoration.

Fudge was obviously still a bit prudent. He quickly waved his hand and said, "No, I can't...Albus only won a first-class medal after defeating Grindelwald in 1945...I'm far behind."

William looked meaningfully at Umbridge, who seemed to be on the rise. He could help the minister with money, but he still spoke so nicely.

Sure enough, Fudge thought for a moment and said, "Umbridge? I remember you, go back and I'll look at your inspection list. If you're not suitable for an Auror, I'll transfer you away."

"Thank you, Minister, then." Umbridge's voice grew softer.

Just then, the Wizengamore members came.

They sat down on chairs, and all they could see were about fifty people, dressed in purple-red robes with a delicate silver "W" embroidered on their left chest.

Dumbledore walked over, wearing a dark blue robe, with a very happy expression on his face.

He came to the front, looked up, and looked at the crowd through the half-moon glasses on the bridge of his hooked nose, his long silver beard and hair gleaming in the light of the torches.

Dumbledore's clothes are so gorgeous, he wears huge gems on his hands, the number can be connected in a large series around four fingers, and the dazzling light emitted from it is enough to make Thanos take off his gloves in shame.

The members of the Wizengamore were whispering.

All eyes were on Dumbledore, and the two elderly witches sitting in the back row directly stood up and waved, seeming to be his loyal fans.

The noise in the hall is over, and the medals are finally about to be issued.

...

...

(Ask for a recommendation ticket, everyone.)