The Dark Lord at Hogwarts is not too cold

The dungeon where Umbridge and the Aurors were held was where the Mirror of Erised was kept in the first years.

It was dark and damp, and under the swaying firelight, a tall figure could always be seen, dragging a tree trunk and walking left and right, or leaning against a corner to rest, and the roar spread along with the rotten sewers.

"They want to overthrow the Ministry of Magic...the news must be passed on to Minister Fudge!" Umbridge didn't have any complacency on his face, and the gorgeous robes on his body were already stained with black stains.

"But that flame door can't go through directly." Dawlish sat weakly on the steps, eating the bread on the plate, "unless there is a bottle of obsidian potion"

He pointed to the door frame filled with black flames.

But even if this difficulty is overcome, what about the other one?Unarmed against a troll?I'm afraid that playing around for 10 minutes won't be able to break through the hard skin.

Besides, if they rushed out of the dungeon, how would they leave next? ?

When they thought of the scene of that night and the overwhelming flames, a trace of despair rose in their hearts... Some even blamed Umbridge in their hearts, and insisted on offending Hogwarts.

"My office has a furnace that goes straight to the Ministry of Magic!"

"Correct me, ma'am... That's the Defense Against the Dark Arts office, not yours..." Dawlish squatted down and carefully searched every crack in the dungeon. He was already here with the Ministry of Magic. It's been a month.

There is always a time for trolls to rest, but the question is, how to get through this black flame in the first place? ?

There were OWLS exams for two consecutive weeks. Therefore, most of the teachers and students were in the auditorium on the first floor and the classrooms on the second floor. The basement only needed to avoid Professor Snape.

"Mrs Umbridge?"

This crisp question cheered up the decadent members of the Ministry of Magic. Umbridge got up from the ground insanely, and accidentally kicked over the food with her right foot. .

With the wheat bread in his arms, he limped to the side of the flame door with some numb legs.

"It's me, Malcolm Bardock..."

"Ah! I remembered!" Umbridge bit the bread excitedly, and said hoarsely, "Is that Malfoy's friend? I know you...how is it?"

Someone came to rescue them, luckily!Thanks Merlin! !

"Yes, the Defense Against the Dark Arts OWLS exam will be in a few days." Malcolm maintained the Disillusionment Charm, his voice was so low that only the two of them could hear clearly, "After that day, we will be able to rescue you."

Because after that day, the Defense Against the Dark Arts office would be vacant, and Umbridge would be able to return to the Ministry through the furnace.

"But... how do we get out?"

"Don't worry, Malfoy will make obsidian potions...but there are not many, so please choose some people." Malcolm encouraged her on the other end, "Please hold on for the last few days, I will withdraw first! Trolls coming!"

Then amidst the sizzling of the flames, mixed with the sound of footsteps and the unique stench of the troll, Umbridge quickly backed away and sat on the surrounding steps again.

The rest of the people didn't know what happened, so they went up to ask.

"Ma'am, are we saved?" The Aurors turned their heads and forgot that they were still blaming their boss in their hearts.

"Well~ Draco will come with the potion..." Umbridge's face was drooping due to the confinement these days, and now it was full of smiles, "But... not much , only five bottles”

In other words, apart from Umbridge, only four of these Aurors can be selected.

She bit a piece of bread, and began to fantasize about how to get revenge at that time. She seemed to see the wailing of Cyrus and Hermione in Azkaban, tortured by dementors and judged by the Cruciatus Curse.

"So...how many of you?"

The Aurors surrounded Umbridge with flattering, flattering smiles on their faces.

She squinted her eyes and selected a few wizard Aurors with relatively pure bloodlines from the crowd. For those who were not selected, she was also comforting, saying that she would come back soon and rescue them.

And Dawlish deliberately stood at the end of the crowd, squatting down, eating food on his own, and then closed his eyes to rest, as if he was not interested in who could go out first.

'Cyrus can't be this lax...' He knew that a child as gifted as Dumbledore would not be easy to understand.

But he couldn't figure out Cyrus' intention for the time being, so he could only stay and watch. Dawlish watched the chosen wizards dance happily and swore to be absolutely loyal to Umbridge.

Sure enough... the Ministry of Magic is rotten to the bone.

But even so, does it really need to be demolished?

Dawlish doesn't need to work hard now, and he doesn't need to practice spells all the time. During the time of being locked up, his heart seems to have calmed down, so he began to think about some problems.

"Are you sure?" Principal Phoenix Black asked Cyrus sharply, twisting his goatee.

"Umbridge has mastered the Floo network of the Ministry of Magic, and we need her to reopen it, so we can follow in." Cyrus stroked the Pensieve, and the stone magic glyphs had a special sense of texture.

In the magical world, many unique geographical structures have a unified way to avoid being discovered, and the same is true for the Ministry of Magic. It is impossible for Cyrus to take a group of people down the phone booth, right?

Having said that, since the dreams that can be remembered are also part of the memory...then isn't it...

"I'm just worried about other changes...Ministry of Magic? None of my business~" Black sneered viciously, "I'm just the headmaster, not 'the worst minister ever'"

I don't know what happened to Professor Dumbledore. The search for the Horcrux went smoothly?

"Why is this your password?!" The oak door was slammed open, and Hermione, who was wearing a windbreaker and boots, rushed over, walked quickly to Cyrus' chair, and stepped on the edge of the seat .

Strawberry red appeared slightly on her cheeks, and with a wave of Hermione's hand, the windbreaker turned into a cloak, flexibly connected to the back of the chair, and tied Cyrus to it.

The right arm rests on the knee, and the body leans forward slightly.

hell!If she wasn't still in the principal's office, she would be questioning him like a chain!

"Password? What password?" Armando held back for a while, and finally raised a question under the urging of others. What kind of password could make this little girl so angry?

Dai Lisi: There are melons!Began to eat!

Phoenix: Che, the little young slapstick (same as the sorting hat, secretly half-closed)

"Yes... yes..." She stammered, unable to make a complete sentence for a long time.

"You mean 'Long live Lord Hermione'?" Cyrus held back his smile, and with dishonest hands, he couldn't help climbing onto the boots that the girl was stepping on on the edge of the chair. On the calf.

"Shut up!!" Hermione pinched his face angrily, and with the other hand, she skillfully pinched his earlobe and gently kneaded it.

The ghost knows how she was teased by the passing friends when she said this password.

"Okay...then I'll change it?" Cyrus bent down, resting his chin on the opponent's knee, deep in thought, "So, how about the ordinary 'Granger'?"

"Do you think there is a second surname in this school?!" Even though they hadn't seen each other for three or four months, why did Cyrus express his love even more outrageously, "Is there anyone like you who is the principal!"

"Honey, here's the authority..."

No matter what, he won't change until Dumbledore!

But it's also his trick at the same time, praise the Headmaster of Hogwarts!Thanks for permission!