I, Hogwarts Second Week

"Oh! God, stay away from that murderer, kid." Just as Sirius roared with claws and teeth, a large number of people suddenly appeared at the end of the corridor.

The fat-faced guy at the head was quite familiar to Owen.

That was the Minister for Magic, Connery Fudge.

Um?

Did this stupid thing take the wrong medicine?

"Climb! You old bastard, what do you want to do?"

"Ahem!" A flash of light came on, illuminating Fudge's embarrassed face: "Look at this kid, he's still angry."

He smiled awkwardly and showed a greasy smile to the reporters behind him.

However, this move did not completely satisfy the reporters. Their cameras mainly focused on Irving's body, 'clicking, clicking', clearly taking pictures of every hair on his body.

Well - Fudge became increasingly embarrassed, and the vigilance bells in his mind rang loudly.

No – something had to be done.

Then, when Owen was lost in thought, he suddenly squatted down and gave Owen a bear hug pretending to be affectionate, and gave him a big bite on the face.

? ? ?

The touch on his cheek made Owen's whole body tremble!

What just happened?

It seems that the young master was kissed by a salty and rough man?

I'm going to wipe it, I'm going to die!

"I want to duel with you."

The little black devil said "Wow" and pretended to cry.

~~Master! ! ! Not clean anymore.

After saying that, there were a few more ‘click’ and ‘click’ sounds all around.

A group of reporters from an unknown newspaper seemed to have smelled bloody sharks, and their excited eyes could overflow with light.

Looking at Owen's crying face, I wanted to put the camera on it.

"Okay, I think everyone knows that the Ministry of Magic will never wrongly accuse a good person. This time about the little wizard." Fudge, who was making a high-profile speech, suddenly seemed to have someone stuck in his neck, and he glanced twitching at the corner of his mouth. Eyeing the child next to him, he - he forgot what the child's name was.

However, as an old politician, he casually cast a sloppy eye and continued: "Ahem, the Ministry of Magic enforces the law impartially. This time, it was the wizards in France who took the lead in provocation. We have found out that our children fought back in self-defense. .As for."

He looked around.

I am very confused as to why Owen came here.

The Death Eaters around him all looked fierce, and he was frightened just looking at them. A little wizard is not afraid?

"This - it may be that the temporary employee responsible for guarding the Azkaban door key room was negligent. The child came here out of curiosity. We will expel him. Temporary employees like this who have no sense of responsibility, magic The ministry will further examine the individual's issues carefully and prosecute him for dereliction of duty."

? ? ?

Owen, who finally came to his senses, looked at the reporters, as well as Mr. Ober, who was hiding in the crowd of reporters, and the serious-looking Professor Dumbledore, and understood everything in an instant.

He was imprisoned in Azkaban.

There are hot spots all over your body.

Foreigners (France), Quidditch, Beauxbatons School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, duels, ambushes, wins, no public trials, thirteen-year-olds imprisoned in Azkaban.

Just list these keywords in a row, which British wizard wouldn't be excited?

Some British wizards even shouted that the British Ministry of Magic was established for French people - such nonsense.

I don’t know who revealed the news, but now newspapers all over the UK are publishing one thing, that is, a third-year wizard from Hogwarts was shamelessly assaulted by four or five Beauxbatons School of Witchcraft and Wizardry students. sneak attack.

When the numbers were absolutely at a disadvantage, the little Hogwarts wizard was not afraid of danger and single-handedly fought against the bad boys of Beauxbatons School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and finally won a great victory.

The British Ministry of Magic threw the young wizard who defended the honor of Hogwarts and British wizards into Azkaban.

What a shame, how infuriating.

After all, all the wizards in the UK graduated from Hogwarts. This news was like a bomb in the deep water. With a bang, even some old Hogwarts people who never expressed political opinions came out.

All kinds of critical voices poured into the Ministry of Magic like snowflakes.

The snarling letters sent to Minister of Magic Fudge haven't stopped since morning.

Especially the content of those howler letters.

It simply exhausts all the ways to greet relatives in English vocabulary.

Fudge went from top to bottom, with his mother as the center, and all the eighteen generations of relatives around him were within the scope of the fire.

Other Ministry of Magic officials were not exempted.

A group of insects occupy the high position. When will the British Empire be revived again?

Fudge must step down!

Fudge steps down! Fudge steps down!

A political crisis ravages the British Isles.

In addition, since there are foreigners this time, especially the enemy is the French.

The four houses of Hogwarts have never been more united than they are today.

What? You say Gryffindors are a bunch of brainless fools.

Damn it, what did this French guy say?

Is that what you can call a 'brainless fool'?

Let me tell you, except us Slytherins, no one else is allowed to call us brave Gryffindors that.

or--

Who do you think you are, discriminating against our Hufflepuffs.

What? Are you saying they are all idiots?

No one except Ravenclaw has the right to speak like that.

Without a certain idiot born in Hufflepuff, Paris, France, would have been gone!

What? You said Paris was saved by the great alchemist Nicolas Flamel?

You fart!

I, Senior Newt, am invincible in the world, but you French guys are actually tampering with history and tampering with the honor of Senior Newt, your conscience is being eaten by dogs. Brothers of Hogwarts, beat him up as a son of a bitch! Today, I, the big Ravenclaw, will tell you what the weight of knowledge is!

After that, a certain Ravenclaw picked up a magic book several feet thick and swung it like a fly.

Things like this are already happening across the UK.

You know, this is the news this morning.

It is conceivable that if the Ministry of Magic does not deal with this matter, Britain and France will repeat the Hundred Years War in a few days!

This is also the reason why Fudge came here in such a hurry.

"About Beauxbatons School of Witchcraft and Wizardry——"

Before the reporter who asked the question had finished speaking, Fudge quickly answered: "The Ministry of Magic - the British Ministry of Magic will send the most severe warning letter to inform the French Ministry of Magic."

"They have to apologize and compensate us for blowing up a park!"

aside!

The culprit who blew up the park nodded, ah! Yeah! They should be allowed to compensate. Before I even exerted my strength, they were crying and surrendering.

You really have inherited the fine traditions of France!

Not happy at all!

There is no sense of accomplishment at all!

Fudge has been doing his best to maintain the majesty of the Ministry of Magic.

He tried to portray himself as a loyal servant of the British wizards, but his funny, sweaty brow, and eager expression were very annoying.

But at this time, Owen's eyes were no longer on the greasy old man next to him.

He picked up a newspaper from the ground. It may have been brought in by a reporter from the Daily Prophet, but it was missed when taking pictures.

In addition to the full reports about him, the few words devoted to the Malfoy family's big moves.

--The last of Lockhart's victims from overseas arrive in England. They will receive the most complete assistance at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Maladies.

——The Malfoy family invested tens of thousands to establish a complete accident insurance for the wizarding world. Your life is protected by me. Buy a personal accident insurance now for only sixteen Galleons per year.

Finally, in the headline on the last page of the newspaper, Irving found what he was looking for.

——Ministry of Magic staff won big awards. Arthur Weasley, director of the Department of Misuse of Muggle Artefacts at the Ministry of Magic, won the Galleon Award, the annual award of the Daily Prophet.

The newspaper published a photo of nine members of the Weasley family standing in front of the pyramid, smiling and waving vigorously.

Then, he threw the newspaper to Sirius in prison.

The other party was confused at first, and then the moment he saw the photo.

He then understood what the boy in front of him meant.

In the photo, Ron was standing in the middle. He was tall and thin, with an ugly mouse standing on his shoulder.

Peter Pettigrew! ! !

Sirius stared hard at the ugly thing that seemed to be showing off its power.

His eyes were wide open and he was breathing heavily.

That extreme anger was felt even by the Ministry of Magic personnel who were far away from him.

"Oh! Merlin's beard." Fudge shouted, and the hateful look in his eyes made his heart tremble, and he took many steps back.

After the Aurors around him gathered around him, he took a few steps forward stiffly and pulled Owen over, "Stay away from him, kid."

"That's not normal."

"That's a lunatic."

Owen looked up at Fudge, who looked wary.

Suddenly I seemed to understand a lot.

He would rather struggle in the complicated power game than understand the magnificent soul of an ordinary person.

No wonder the magic was escaping him.

Boring, very boring.

"Professor, let's go back." He pinched Fudge's little finger and almost broke it. The guy finally let go of his hand in pain, and immediately walked towards Dumbledore.

The old principal's half-moon glasses were shining with light. He glanced at Owen, and then quickly moved his eyes to Sirius and the Death Eaters.

A body lying in a damp cage.

Prisoners under magical attack.

The man was roaring like a flame in the darkness.

Suddenly - he looked a little lonely.

Professor Dumbledore's melancholy eyes showed a look of distressing concern.

He wondered if that man had lived such a life before, just like he always had. Forty years.

How could the damp and muddy prison cover his golden hair, and then the years took away the luster and color.

He should hate me, Professor Dumbledore thought.

Then he stretched out his hand and held Owen's cold, tepid hand tightly.

He shook his hand tightly subconsciously, with a hint of bitterness in his mouth, and said, "Let's go home!"

With that said, under the roar of the already crazy Xiaotianxing, the two figures walked past the crowd and walked resolutely towards the exit of the corridor.