Master Trainer from Hogwarts

Chapter 122 My Dream
Barnabas, the editor-in-chief of the Prophet, received the information from the first-hand reporter. With his slightly protruding beer belly, he trotted to the printing factory.

Here the goblin and wizard staff are preparing the magical layout for tomorrow's newspaper.

Barnabas waved the copywriting in his hands vigorously, and roared, "Remove all typesetting and make a special issue tomorrow. Let every typesetting machine start today. If I find any of you who dare to be lazy today, then pack up and leave tomorrow!"

A director of the printing factory didn't seem to understand why the boss was going crazy, so he came over, "What about the quantity?"

Barnabas' eyes were slightly red, "Unlimited! Don't worry about the quantity, just print it, and someone will pay for it!"

At this moment, two Aurors walked in.

Pull Barnabas away and bring him into the office, "I'm sorry, Your Excellency, the Editor-in-Chief, the Ministry of Magic's 1989-26 Special Decree requires your printing house to be temporarily recruited."

The Ministry official handed the printed document to Barnabas.

"Impossible! I will not agree! You are obstructing the freedom of the press!"

At this time, the office door was pushed open.

Three wizards entered, in ornate wizard robes, with their respective family crests embroidered on their chests.

Bock, Foley, Knott.

Not only that, they are also the largest shareholder of the Daily Prophet.

Barnabas calmed down from the frenzy just now. He looked at the other party with a sneer, "You are doing futile work. No one can hide this matter, even if His Excellency the Minister joins forces with you. This will only make things more irreversible."

The Ministry of Magic official pinched his nose. If these editors were allowed to have free rein, the matter would truly be irreversible.

They will use their sharp pens to provoke the fragile nerves of wizards, and the contradictions between mudbloods, half-bloods, and pure-bloods will be highlighted on the bright side. Coupled with this incident, it can even be said without hesitation that the British wizarding community is now sitting on a barrel of black powder.

And an 11-year-old child holding the fuse that can blow up the entire wizarding world, no one can bear such consequences.

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In the evening, the dusty Dumbledore arrived at Stuart's house. It was quiet here, completely opposite to the already turbulent British wizarding world.

But Dumbledore knew this was only the surface, and in his perception the house was already surrounded by dozens of Aurors.

Of course, these Aurors are not here to arrest the Stuart family, they are to prevent 'accidents'.

If any pure-blood lunatic does this now, then tomorrow the British wizarding world can start a war, a war against itself.

The doorbell rang, and Mrs. Stuart's light green eyes were smiling, "Principal, it's really hard for you to visit home so late."

Even with Dumbledore's old face, he couldn't help but blush slightly.

He went in and the door closed.

The Aurors outside breathed a sigh of relief, and now it seemed the great White Wizard didn't want to let things get out of hand either.

This is a good thing, a great thing!
Dumbledore hung his peaked hat on the mahogany coat rack, and he couldn't see anything. "Is there anything to eat? I haven't touched a drop of water since I came out of the meeting room. I'm afraid that if I'm late, I can only look for the British Ministry of Magic in the ruins. Fortunately, Your Highness, you still maintain your sanity."

Mrs. Stuart was used to Dumbledore's jokes. She opened the refrigerator and brought out a vanilla pudding, a strawberry cake, and a brandy tiramisu. Obviously she expected Dumbledore to come.

While making tea, Mrs. Stuart said with a smile, "Now that you know what's going on, don't you want to find the British Ministry of Magic in the ruins instead of facing such a difficult problem."

Dumbledore thought for a while and said, "Indeed."

It is easy to rebuild a British Ministry of Magic, but it is too difficult to quell the unknown flames stirred up by the entire British wizards. It is so difficult that he, the greatest white wizard of this century, is at a loss.

"What about Allen?"

Mrs. Stuart looked upstairs, "He and his father have been exhausted these days, and they are still asleep."

Dumbledore rubbed his palms together, "Your Highness..."

"I know, I'll wake him up, but I won't help you convince him for the rest."

Mrs. Stuart went upstairs, and after a while, Allen and Mr. Stuart in pajamas came downstairs sleepily.

Mrs. Stuart made a cup of black tea for the two of them, and then went to watch TV in the adjacent living room, just like a real housewife.

"Principal, I'm so sorry for you to come to comfort me so late."

Allen's eyes were red, "Don't worry, I just suffered a little grievance, and this matter will pass soon."

Under Dumbledore's half-moon glasses, his eyes that had been shining with deep wisdom all year round were dull, and he didn't even know how to speak for a while.

Mr. Stuart patted Allen on the back.

Dumbledore coughed, "Can I talk to Allen alone?"

Mr. Stuart said with a smile, "Of course, I'll go to the cigar room next door to refresh my mind."

Dumbledore sat beside Allen, "Allen, I know you have been frightened and wronged these days, but the situation is critical now, and only you can calm the situation down again."

Allen didn't pretend anymore, he looked at Dumbledore, "Principal, have you thought about reshaping the wizarding world in England? With your prestige and this incident as the fuse, you can completely reorganize the wizarding world in England."

Dumbledore's body was tense. He had already used his + Grindelwald's template to estimate Alan's EQ and IQ, but now it seems that he still underestimated this freshman.

He took off his glasses and pinched his nose, "Alan, peace is hard-won, and we should cherish it even more. It may only take one sentence to destroy order, but it will take generations to rebuild order."

Allen looked at Dumbledore, whose voice was a little begging.

For the first time, he was so deeply aware that the most powerful wizard today was old.

His magic is still as powerful as a miracle.

But he is really old.

In other words, his years of teaching made him regard the wizarding world of England as his own children. Whether it was pure blood, mixed blood or mudblood, the palms and backs of his hands were full of flesh, which made it difficult for him to give up.

He knows the hidden problems in the wizarding world now, but he hopes that a strong enemy will take away all the problems, transform internal conflicts into external conflicts, and class issues into issues of good and evil.

Instead of him solving the problem himself.

That formidable enemy is Voldemort.

No wonder Harry would be the new Headmaster and Hermione the new Minister for Magic, that was Dumbledore's idea.

Tom, why are you fighting old Deng?

Will Dumbledore's idea really work, though?

Or how much is it good for me to disturb the order of the British wizarding world now?
Allen smiled and added sugar to Dumbledore's black tea, "Of course, Headmaster, I have always loved peace and order."

Dumbledore breathed a sigh of relief, and he put his glasses back on, "Good boy."

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That night, Mr. Stuart and Dumbledore came to Fudge's office overnight.

Fudge, who was waiting anxiously, glanced at Dumbledore gratefully, "Thank you for everything you have done for the wizarding world."

Dumbledore shrugged, "I'm just a headmaster who is about to retire."

Fudge didn't say much, he looked at Mr. Stuart, "I don't know what you mean?"

Mr. Stuart waved his hand, "First of all, I want to make sure that we are discussing this difficult issue without recording or backup."

Dumbledore nodded, and a gray arc expanded from him, blocking all additional sight.

Fudge shook his face, then looked at Mr. Stuart, and said in a low voice, "We will internally punish all the personnel this time, all of them. I hope that Mr. Alan Stuart can stabilize the masters of the International Wizarding and Potion Association first, and then clarify this misunderstanding."

"Misunderstand?"

Mr. Stuart took off his hat, put it on the table, and then lifted a chair for Dumbledore. After Dumbledore sat down, he sat on another chair, looked up, and looked at Fudge with a smile in his eyes.

"Your Excellency, this is not a misunderstanding."

Fudge couldn't help roaring, "Then what do you want to do? To set off the hatred among wizards tomorrow and put everyone in pure blood at risk? This is the magic world. Although the number of pure blood is small, they have a lot of power!"

Mr. Stuart pressed his hands, "Of course, of course I understand this, but we look at the problem slightly differently. I don't think this will cause confusion. On the contrary, this is a great speech. Mudblood wizard, well, it's okay for me to say that."

Mr. Stuart looked at Fudge.

Fudge now got a headache when he heard the Mudblood. "That's a slur, Mr. Stuart, mind you, even you can't say the word!"

"Of course!"

Mr. Stuart raised his hands.

"I, a Muggle, certainly agree with that statement."

"It's a stain that the wizarding world can't get around, but we can cover it up with something brighter, like..."

"for example?"

Fudge frowned.

"Help Allen apply for the Order of Merlin First Order. Such an outstanding little wizard born from a Muggle family will become the smallest recipient of the First Order in history. It will definitely prove the innocence of the British wizarding world."

"You're crazy! Even the Ministry of Magic can't influence the selection of the Knights of Merlin!"

Fudge just felt that the Muggle in front of him didn't know the heights of heaven and earth, and his ambition and desire were ten times greater than he imagined.

Mr. Stuart smiled and was about to pick up the hat on the table, and half got up, "There are always more solutions than difficulties. Perhaps Your Excellency the Minister can think of a better way."

He looked at his watch, "There are still eight hours before eight o'clock tomorrow morning, and I am waiting for your good news at home."

Fudge looked at Dumbledore who didn't say a word. The white wizard seemed to have exhausted his energy today, fingers crossed, and he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

"Sit down." Fudge didn't have any demeanor, and he tried to restrain his emotions, "I will apply in the name of the British Ministry of Magic and report it tomorrow, but whether the Knights of Merlin approve or not is beyond my control."

"Of course, please leave the rest to me." After winning the first condition, Mr. Stuart sat down again, and the corners of his mouth curled up, "Please believe me, I am a professional in this regard."

Fudge panted, "You still have a request, let's say it together."

Mr. Stuart took out a piece of paper from his pocket, handed it to Fudge, and took it back after the other party read it.

Fudge stood up, "I need to discuss the conditions above with others."

Then he pushed away the people in the office and walked into the conference room next to him. When he saw Fudge walking in, the purebloods stared at him closely.

"Minister, did the Muggle agree?"

Fudge looked gloomy, and stated Mr. Stuart's conditions.

"what?!"

"No."

"impossible!"

"Not only does he want to make his son a hero, but he wants to start an independent newspaper for half-bloods and Muggle wizards?"

Lucius frowned and stated again.

The people present did not invite his cousin Wallace, because everyone was afraid that he would speak out.

Another pureblood of the Selwyn family also said excitedly, "He still wants the Firebolt company to become a company supported by the Ministry of Magic. I have never heard such an unreasonable request."

Another witch whispered, "Two copies of the legendary item, ten ounces of the golden fairy spring, two copies of pure magic power crystals, and a lot of precious magic materials. Don't you all realize what these things are?"

The people present fell silent.

A pure-blood wizard took out a statue from his pocket, and the environment here was instantly blocked.

He said, "I knew how things would have gotten to this point without the help of that headmaster. Wallace is a pompous idiot who turned his anger on us!"

Lucius made a decisive decision and patted the table, "Quiet, this should be the ultimatum given by the principal."

He gritted his teeth and said, "These things can still be taken out if everyone gathers together."

The purebloods present glanced at each other and remained silent. If it was just a family of Muggles, they would certainly not agree to the request, but now that the headmaster's attitude is "obvious", they have been caught again, and compromise is the only way out.

An hour later, Fudge returned with a new condition. He shouted at Mr. Stuart in a low voice, "This is the last condition. The things you want are too precious to be gathered in a short time."

Mr. Stuart glanced at the paper, the other party mainly discounted the final conditions, he curled his lips, these wizards are really poor enough.

······
On the second day, almost every wizarding family had a special issue on the table. This publication was given away for free by the Daily Prophet today, and was sent to every wizarding family by owl.

"My Dreams - Alan Stewart"

Countless half-breed and Muggle-born wizards looked through it, with tears in their eyes, and even werewolf wizards weeping softly in unknown corners.

Is this a dream?

He is literally changing the world.

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Ask for a monthly pass, ask for a recommendation ticket
(End of this chapter)