Hogwarts Melon Eater

"Hogwarts Melon Eater (!

After signing the documents, Mark left quickly with a smile. Adams also returned to his office, right next to the temporary conference room. The exquisite house number said \'Special for office directors of different types\'.

Even the color of the door is different from other wooden doors, and the decoration inside is even more gorgeous.

Or rather, it should have been gorgeous.

Sturdy wooden floors, dark red handmade carpets, brown European-style wallpaper, a huge desk is placed in the middle of the room, and a small desk is placed near the door, which is Lisanna's office.

There are bookcases on both sides of the office. Originally, there were books such as \'Thirty-six strategies of office wizards\' and \'How to please your superior wizard\' left by the previous director...

And after Adams took office, the bookshelves were no longer books, but some strange specimens, making people dream back to the Hogwarts Potions classroom.

At the same time, the paintings on the walls were completely disliked.

Adams couldn't appreciate the Renaissance painting 'Cool Dancing Girl' left by the previous director,

"Tsk tsk tsk, it's unsightly!" He covered his eyes and put the painting of the beautiful woman in the corner, and he arbitrarily hung the painting of the \'Sniff Family\' on the wall.

"Well, beautiful!" Adams exclaimed, "good quality sniff with smooth hair!"

Lisanna smiled and stood aside, pondering the appreciation level of a magical zoologist. Perhaps soon, her secretary position will be replaced by a smart, beautiful, soft-haired Sniff.

Adams stretched his back and sat down on the comfortable magic swivel chair with the 'just right' coffee brewed by beautiful sister Lisanna.

"Okay, let's get to work!"

Arthur stretched his back and took the hot tea handed over by a hunched, gray-haired old man. The old man shook his hand and the hot tea poured over Arthur's pants.

"Sorry Arthur, you've had a bad enough day today, and now the situation has gotten worse..." The old man felt very guilty and wanted to reach out to help wipe it, but felt it was not right.

"It's all right, Perkins," Arthur waved his wand indifferently, and the tea stain on his brown suit trousers quickly disappeared. "Look, this is much better than my twin boys' prank!"

Arthur moved the singing green dill to make a safe place for his teacup.

His desk is too narrow, and there are too many things to put, the full inbox takes up most of the space, and the other places are occupied by clutter, open empty folders, green dill, quill pen, Quidditch Team badges, a yo-yo from Ana, and even a doctor's stethoscope that I don't know what to do with.

\'No Misuse of Muggle Objects\', Arthur Weasley's little world, located at the end of the corridor on the second basement level of the Ministry of Magic, never attracts attention, there is no highlight moment, exaggeratedly, some people work on this floor Wizards thought it was a broom room until they retired.

In fact, this office is not as good as a broom room.

Perkins touched his gray hair, and suddenly remembered something, he walked to his desk and began to rummage through the same chaotic desktop, "Arthur, I heard that you applied for workers' compensation, did you succeed? ?"

Arthur was about to take the document's hand and laughed heartily, "Of course - no!"

"I stood in line for a long time with a burrito to file, hoping I looked a little pitiful," Arthur said helplessly, "but I found that the wizard in front of me with his wand in his nostril failed to apply, so I gave up. ."

"Um...then I'll show you something to put you in a good mood," Perkins tore a crumpled newspaper from under the \'fighting gloves\', "and look at this."

"What is this, is there any interesting news from the Daily Prophet?" Arthur took the newspaper and found that it was not the Daily Prophet, but a Muggle newspaper with a photo of a dog's head on it.

"\'British Psychic War\'? The most popular TV show in the UK this year?" Arthur's eyes lit up, and Muggle-related affairs could make him feel novel, "What is this?"

"It seems to be a competition program. The participating Muggles claim that they have some kind of magical ability, similar to magic," Perkins tried his best to summarize. "This competition is to choose the person who understands magic the most among them..."

Arthur took a deep breath.

"It's—wonderful!" he praised mercilessly. "How could these—Muggles— come up with such interesting things!"

Perkins smiled and waved his wand, and a brand new folder floated in front of Arthur, "This may be good news for you, Arthur, our main work at this time is this Muggle show..."

"The show is still filming, and there are a lot of Muggle reactions. They really saw a lot of incredible phenomena at the recording site. According to their descriptions, the superiors thought it was caused by some simple magic spell," Perkins paused. "Magic The Ministry has dispatched two Aurors to investigate the matter."

"And we need to pay attention to this show at all times, pay attention to whether the show team has really collected magical items, and we need to recycle them in time if necessary."

Perkins turned and struggled through the gap to the corner of the room, where there was a dirty gray cloth that seemed to be hiding something underneath. "The bigger surprise," he said.

"No..." Arthur's hand holding the newspaper trembled.

"It's true," Perkins tore off the gray cloth.

There was an old colour TV set, like it had been picked up from a Muggle dump, with strange stickers on the edges.

Arthur was screaming in his head. The huge surprise had made him unable to act. A Muggle TV in the office, TV time during work hours, and always observing Muggle life...

"The superior only approved it yesterday, and the Magic Maintenance Department sent it today. I have never seen them so active and taught how to use it..."

Perkins pulled out the TV remote. "I remember... pressing this button?"

The TV reacted for a while, \'beep\', and the snow screen was displayed in front of the two wizards.

"It's beautiful," Arthur exclaimed, "this is the first time I've seen something so beautiful."

Perkins raised his eyebrows, craned his neck and carefully looked at the content on the post-it note on the back of the remote control panel, "Well... after the screen appears, switch to Channel 7..."

He pressed the number seven.

"Welcome to \'British Psychic Wars\'!"

A rough hand picked up the TV remote control pad on the bar and turned the TV volume up.

The waitress in the apron raised her head and glanced at the man in the crumpled white shirt. She pouted and said nothing, lowered her head and continued to wash her dishes.

Wagga Wagga, Australia, a small country-style city, has recently seen some strange faces.

They ask everyone, \'Did you hear that weird roar? Did anything weird happen on the full moon day? \'Or,\'Have you ever seen a man with blond hair who talks a lot? \'

The man in the white shirt sat down at the bar and put the book in his hand on the table, "Rachel, please help me... have a cup of black tea."

Asking for tea at the roadside tavern, the blonde Rachel walked over with a smile, but she was actually muttering in her heart, \'What's the matter with this strange man? This is the third day he has appeared here. \'

"A cup of tea, right? Wait a minute," Rachel tore off a note and rudely wrote \'tea\', the man noticed, he reminded, "Rachel, it's black tea, \'\'. "

Rachel secretly rolled her eyes, Brits are so particular about drinking tea, "Of course, I know, \'\'," she emphasized the word.

The face of the man in the white shirt stiffened for a moment, but soon he smiled, "I'm glad you noticed that."

Rachel peeked at the book the man put on the bar, \'Wandering with the werewolf\'? She smiled disdainfully, at what age are you still reading children's literature?

Rachel, who came out of high school as a part-timer, thought she was very mature. She took another look at the TV show that the man was watching. Oh, \'British Psychic Battle\', a boring show.

Rachel quickly walked to the back of the bar, waited for the water to boil, then threw the cheap tea bags in, and quickly brewed the man a cup of poor-quality black tea.

"Your black tea," she moved to the man.

This man with a face full of vicissitudes was watching TV in a stunned manner at this moment. His mouth was wide open, and it seemed that he saw something particularly surprising.

Rachel looked up ~www.NovelMTL.com~ There was only a black dog running happily on the TV.

Childish, Rachel rolled her eyes, "Sir, your black tea!" She raised the volume, but the man didn't recover from the TV.

Rachel was a little angry, she started to recall the man's name, um... what did he say his name was that day...

oh! correct!

"Mr. Remus Lupin!" Rachel yelled, "your black tea ( )!" She emphasized again.

"Boom-"

Lupin backed sharply and fell to the ground with the bar chair.

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