Chapter 623 The Situation Is Serious

It’s the last week of the school year and the sun is shining brightly.

The school bell rang as usual, but there were no confused students rushing to class in the corridor. The bell echoed in the empty corridors, and the ancient castle of Hogwarts seemed quiet and melodious.

Every little wizard chose to leave the castle and come outdoors to enjoy the leisurely days after exams without anxiety. Some were walking on the open-air Quidditch pitch, some were swimming in the lake accompanied by giant squids, and some were lying by the lake. Taking a nap under the shade of a tree, his face covered with useless but interesting books.

"Transfiguration and Charms are no problem...

"There is no problem with astronomy and the history of magic...

"Herbology and potions are not that difficult either..."

The exam was completely over. Hermione had been ordered by Loren not to talk about the exam a few days ago. She thought the deadline had passed and she was obsessed with discussing the answers with Loren. She didn't notice Ha who was enjoying the shade together under the shade of a tree. Leigh and Ginny had walked away quietly with gentle steps.

"The steps of arithmetic divination are rather complicated, but it should be fine."

"But I'm not sure about the ancient runes." Hermione sat cross-legged on the grass, with her notebook spread out on her legs and a newly bought quill in her hand. She begged softly, "Loren, let me tell you the topic. You Do it again and let’s check the answers.”

Loren, who was lying next to him, slowly turned his head, his handsome eyebrows knitted together, looked at Hermione, and couldn't help but ask: "The professor didn't give any homework this holiday, and you actually want me to do the questions?"

"Well, it's just a paper."

"Do you remember the question and you still can't find the correct answer?"

"The translation questions were okay, but I wasn't sure about some of the reading questions."

"You go find Professor Babling."

Hermione was also a little helpless: "The professor has left school."

"Well..." Loren lay on the ground and blinked. He leaned slightly to hug her waist, took a breath, and said lazily, "Professor Morgan is going to take a nap. Let's talk tomorrow."

"Then I'll write down the questions I'm not sure about and show them to you tonight."

"Can't hear, can't hear..."

After saying that, Loren closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep. ,

Hermione took the quill and gestured angrily at his face several times, but in the end she didn't make a move.

It was already dusk when I opened my eyes again.

"Well..."

Loren slowly sat up, feeling that he was sleeping softly all over, but still didn't want to move. He stared at the orange clouds in the sky for a few seconds, and then his sleepy head slowly started to turn around and looked to the side.

The grass and the lake were also dyed crimson by the setting sun. The girl leaned on the tree, her face facing his direction, and she closed her eyes and took a nap.

At hand is a notebook filled with test questions. The handwriting is delicate and meticulous. There is only a paragraph of small characters at the end that is not very neat. It is his name. The first few letters are heavily inked, probably with gritted teeth, and then it is lighter, maybe. I was not satisfied with the writing, so I re-wrote it dozens of times.

Loren pinched her face, chuckled a few times, took the quill from her hand, and started writing in the notebook.

The sun gradually sank into the hills, and the orange clouds dimmed little by little.

Hermione blinked her long eyelashes a few times, opened her eyes, and gradually woke up. She subconsciously looked to the side, only to find that she was leaning on Loren's shoulder, and she rubbed it subconsciously a few times.

Loren put his arm around her shoulders, put the notebook and quill into her pendant, stood up and pulled her up: "Let's go back to the year-end dinner."

Hermione held his hand slightly and patted the dust on his skirt: "How long have I been asleep?"

"You slept better than I did all afternoon."

"I'm copying the questions."

"Is it just a question?"

Hermione stopped talking, turned her face and pushed him twice randomly, urging him to return to the castle quickly, as the year-end dinner was about to begin.

They walked across the lawn toward the castle vestibule, the dim glow of the setting sun illuminating part of the path, and the lights of the back vestibule illuminating the vicinity as they approached.

The little wizards who had been playing all day returned to the castle one after another, holding in their hands the wrappers of various snacks and the "Daily Prophet Special Issue" that they used as cushions after reading them. Rolf and Luna greeted them with a smile, holding on to their hands. In it were safflower green beans that had just been picked from Hagrid’s vegetable garden. They were juicy and juicy.

"Good evening, Loren and Hermione!"

Luna's voice was soft and somewhat ethereal: "Have you read the news in the newspaper? There is an abnormal cold wave at the edge of the country. The Daily Prophet said that it was the fog caused by the gathering of dementors, but I think there must be a gathering of dementors inside. A large number of harassing flies..."

"Dementors?" Loren and the others sat down in the two seats next to Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, looked at Rolf next to them, and asked aloud, "Is there any news we don't know about?" ”

Rolf broke off the red kidney beans and fed them to the bowtruckle in his sleeve: "On the day when you were concentrating on the exam, Voldemort reconvened the werewolves and dementors, and absorbed many dark wizards from other countries, making no secret of it. The earth revealed the mark of the dark devil, announcing their return."

Voldemort is back and has gathered another group of forces...

Several thoughts flashed through Loren's mind, and he frowned slightly: "Is there any action from the Ministry of Magic?"

Rolf said hesitantly: "According to the information revealed by my grandfather, Minister Scrimgeour and Ms. Amelia personally led the Aurors to the border to investigate the situation."

"How's the situation?"

"It's not good..." Rolf shook his head. "We were repelled by the Dementors and Werewolves, plus the dark wizard's sneak attack. We sacrificed several senior Aurors before we retreated. In order to avoid causing panic, the Ministry of Magic Only some warning information has been disclosed, such as the areas where dementors gather and wander... They are currently soliciting solutions from some older wizards, and my grandfather is one of them."

"It's troublesome..." Loren whispered, "Voldemort has started to launch terrorist attacks again, threatening ordinary people and ordinary wizards. The Ministry of Magic has nothing to do with them."

Hermione frowned, not expecting so many things to happen during the time they were concentrating on the exam: "Does Principal Dumbledore have any suggestions?"

"have no idea."

"..."

Loren looked up at the seat of the guest of honor. Dumbledore was discussing something with Grindelwald in a low voice. His expression was solemn, but he smiled at the young wizards.

The year-end banquet finally ended with the joy of the upcoming holiday. A small number of students had already received the news. On the way back to the common room, some people gathered in groups and whispered, raising their heads from time to time and looking at them strangely. Harry.

…

10 Downing Street, Westminster, London.

The night was getting darker and it was almost midnight.

The diligent Prime Minister is still sitting alone in his office, flipping through a document, but too many things have happened in the past two weeks. Those unpleasant news reports keep echoing in his ears, and his head is dizzy. The more he concentrates, Trying to read the text in front of me makes my head ache.

The Brockdale Bridge collapsed not long ago, and more than a dozen passing cars sank to the bottom of the river. However, he could only accept the torture of reporters and kept repeating that the reason was still under investigation.

A series of murders occurred on the border of the country, but those subordinates could not even investigate the cause of death. The autopsy report actually said that the death was natural!

How can there be multiple natural deaths in an area in a short period of time, and how can a family die of natural causes at the same time? Among the victims were even soldiers in their prime!

And the weird hurricane in the southwest that caused huge losses to people's lives and property...

It can be said that people in half the country are in panic.

The Prime Minister rubbed his sore eyebrows and subconsciously looked at a portrait in the corner of the office wall. These weird things were gathered together, and he always felt that something was wrong.

The portrait shows a small man wearing a silver wig, strangely dressed, and with a face like a frog.

That happened many years ago, but he still remembers it clearly, and will never forget it even until his death -

On the night he had just won the election for prime minister, he was alone in his office enjoying the joy of success. At the happiest moment in his life, the ugly little portrait coughed softly and then spoke...

Green flames rose in the fireplace, and a fat man who called himself the Minister of Magic came out of the fireplace flames, shook hands with him, and introduced a whole new world to him.

In hidden corners beyond the reach of modern society, a large number of wizards with magic live secretly all over the world. Non-wizards know nothing about it. The bills that require his cooperation are jaw-dropping. What kind of broomstick jurisdiction and ban on flying carpet smuggling? , the embargo and customs inspection of magical animals...

The stick did show its magic in front of him. He saw with his own eyes that his tea cup turned into a lively gerbil. The Prime Minister almost thought that the psychological pressure of his campaign was too great, leading to mental disorder and hallucinations.

When he woke up the next day, he called carpenters and construction workers to try to take down the portrait, but they couldn't pry it off. As for the gerbil, it was still active in his niece's cage.

He had prayed that the thing would remain still or silent from now on, but to his disappointment, he had caught a glimpse of the person in the portrait yawning or scratching his nose, and once or twice even walked out of the frame, leaving only an empty space. Earthy gray canvas.

Later, he met the fat Minister of Magic again. That was a few years ago. He appeared out of thin air in the cabinet meeting room and claimed that some competition needed his cooperation and that Romania would transport a few fire dragons into the country. There was some trouble in the World Cup, several Muggles were involved, and the mark of the mysterious man appeared again...

Minister Fudge looked distracted and muttered something: "Don't worry, that doesn't mean anything... Dumbledore is trying to seize his power..."

It sounds like this wizard named Dumbledore is his political enemy.

The Prime Minister once thought this way, but still cooperated to block the news about Devon County.

Over the years, he has been cooperating with those wizards, and he has also vaguely figured out something, allowing the intelligence department to compile some obviously hidden files, which record frequent cooperation, some murders and explosions more than ten years ago. The truth of the case was covered up.

There was also the thick fog that appeared in New York a few years ago. The intelligence agency investigated that the government of that country seemed to be conducting some ulterior secret experiments...

The Prime Minister gradually recalled the contents of the file, his eyes fell on the ugly portrait face, and he became more and more certain that the recent events were related to the wizarding world.

Just as he was deep in thought, a gentle cough suddenly sounded in the room, a cough he had heard before.

"To the Muggle Prime Minister, requesting an urgent meeting. Please reply immediately, your faithful Fudge." The man in the oil painting read mechanically.

"Oh... okay." The Prime Minister straightened the tie on his chest and responded in a deep voice: "Okay, I can see Fudge."

He tried his best to control his facial expression and maintain a calm posture, but when he saw bright green flames suddenly appearing in the empty grate under the marble fireplace, he could not help but feel some surprise and panic in his heart.

A few seconds later, the fat Fudge walked out of the flames with a yellow-green dome hat in his hand, stepped on the exquisite carpet of the office, dusted off the ashes on his body, and politely extended his hand: "Oh... …Prime Minister, it’s a pleasure to meet you again.”

The Prime Minister shook hands with him expressionlessly while observing his facial expression. The fat face seemed to be a little thinner, disheveled, his face was more solemn, and his hair was less. This was not a good sign.

"You don't look well, is there anything I can do for you?"

"Yes, these two weeks have been terrible, the Prime Minister, Brockdale Bridge, the murder..." Fudge sat on the chair, put the green dome hat on the table, and rubbed his eyes tiredly , said with a sad look on his face, "Someone will communicate with you about these matters. I am here mainly to hand over the matter."

"Handover?" the Prime Minister repeated, a little uneasy.

When the leader of a government is ousted, it often means that the situation is extremely serious.

"Yes, my dear Prime Minister." Fudge forced a bitter smile, "I made a serious mistake. The entire Wizengamot unanimously passed a resolution and was removed from office for review a few months ago. Tonight I'm here to complete the handover and introduce you to my successor, who should be arriving soon."

Fudge turned to look at the liaison portrait.

The little man in the oil painting looked outside the frame, as if listening to something, and then said: "He is sending a letter to Dumbledore... Oh, he is here."

The villain's voice became mechanical again: "To the Muggle Prime Minister: Requesting a meeting. The matter is urgent. Please reply immediately! Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister of Magic."

"Okay, okay."

As the Prime Minister nodded in agreement, the flames in the fireplace turned emerald green again, and a strange man stepped out.

His brown hair is slightly long and his eyebrows are thick and gray, which proves that he is no longer young. His face is thin and pale, and there are thick dark circles under his eyes. He has not had a good rest for at least a week, and he looks faintly tired, but the lenses The sharp eyes at the back are still bright, and even though they are lame, they still show a keen and tough demeanor:

"Hello, Prime Minister, I'm Scrimgeour."