The Silent Witch of Hogwarts

Chapter 508 Intense Bean Steaming

Chapter 508 Intense Bean Steaming

"Are you alright, Loila?" Lupin immediately breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Loila come out of the fireplace.

"N-nothing—" Loila said, glancing at Dumbledore who had followed her out of the fireplace.

If Dumbledore doesn't come, I'll definitely be fine—right?

I don't owe him anything.

But being saved by one's own goal seems a bit strange after all.

"Please follow me." Dumbledore didn't say much, just spoke calmly, and then walked upstairs.

There weren't many customers at the Three Broomsticks tavern in Hogsmeade at this time, probably because it was weekday and daytime; only a few people were sitting in a corner drinking.

As they walked with Dumbledore into the room on the second floor, it became even quieter, with almost no other sounds.

Hmm—is Dumbledore going to criticize me?

Thinking about it, it makes sense—it doesn't seem like a good idea to suddenly retaliate—I should have held back a little, and it would have been best if I had been hit a few times myself.

Killing those Aurors without them getting hurt doesn't seem to be in my best interest.

Loila watched Dumbledore slowly sit down, a little nervous, afraid that he would suddenly criticize her or something.

However, it was clear that Dumbledore was not going to do that; he simply asked casually, "You went to see Karkaroff, didn't you?"

""

"Hmm—Hmm!" Loila hadn't expected Dumbledore to ask such a question. She paused for a moment before saying, "We—we've seen him."

Is he very different now from the person you knew?

"It's...it's quite big."

In Loila's memory, he was similar to the character played by that little Barty—a spoiled brat, arrogant, and wicked—

But these things are clearly not visible in a madman.

"That's just how people are sometimes," Dumbledore nodded gently. "Even people we see every day will occasionally show us a side of themselves we don't usually see."

"And some people change even faster—they might become a completely different person after just a few days." Dumbledore's words, with their underlying meaning, made Loira a little uncomfortable.

Doesn't he realize he's not very good at speaking—I can't understand these roundabout ways of talking anyway—

"Headmaster Dumbledore, you mean—Folkegaard—" Lupin seemed to understand and slowly asked, "You suspect he was influenced by Voldemort—"

"That's unlikely," Dumbledore chuckled. "Cornell is the Minister for Magic."

"If he can be replaced so easily—then it's also possible for me to be the principal."

"Your position as headmaster is far more impressive than any minister's—Loila had witnessed the respectful demeanor of the Aurors from the Ministry of Magic."

They practically bend their heads down to their waists.

Moreover, Dumbledore also has an army of giants—which is even more powerful than the fire spirits.

"Cornell simply hasn't identified the real enemy," Dumbledore continued. "His vision is far too narrow."

"And it's also a bit... peculiar," Dumbledore said with a slight smile.

"He doesn't believe a word Voldemort says," Lupin shook his head. "And it seems—he's even taking his anger out on us."

He believes we are spreading unnecessary trouble—in an attempt to undermine his control of the Ministry of Magic.

"Perhaps?" Dumbledore shrugged slightly, appearing completely unconcerned, as he always seemed to be.

He pulled some honey tarts from the sleeve of his robe and placed them on the table, saying as he unwrapped one, "But Miss Hamilton—Miss Rozier is quite right about one thing."

You should be more careful.

"Hmm?" Loila looked at Dumbledore and subconsciously twitched her ears.

How did you find out about my conversation with Miss Shiloh?

We were clearly being discreet—well, not exactly discreet, since Dumbledore had just left—but how did you eavesdrop on other people's conversations?

Loila quickly recalled that she didn't seem to have discussed Lord Grindelwald with Miss Shiloh at the time.

That's good — that's good.

"The Ministry of Magic is hardly an ally anymore," Dumbledore said slowly. "More often than not—they're more like an obstacle."

"And—" Dumbledore said, popping a candy into his mouth, "Cornelly won't let this go—"

He looked at Loila as he spoke: "But I'm not worried at all, Miss Hamilton."

"After all, we have you, don't we?" His joking words made Loira purse her lips awkwardly. She whispered, "I—I can't help with anything—"

"Not at all—I believe you can escape the Ministry of Magic even if I don't go, right?" Dumbledore said, winking.

"They've gone a bit too far!"

In the Minister for Magic's office, Umbridge stood before Fudge and said, "Does that old man Dumbledore even respect the Ministry of Magic?"

"Minister, we must do something."

Fudge kept his head down and didn't say anything.

"We should arrest Dumbledore, Hamilton, and all the others who are loyal to him and oppose the Ministry of Magic."

"Send them all to Azkaban."

"That Hamilton—we'll use the charges against her for harming a Ministry of Magic Auror, antisocial, and subverting wizarding society—" Umbridge said slowly. "We'll use the same charges against the other members of the Order of the Phoenix."

"If we capture all these members of the Order of the Phoenix, and only Dumbledore remains—he'll be outnumbered."

"At that time, only a few Aurors—oh no, a dozen or so Aurors will be enough—"

-

"Alright—that's enough." Fudge seemed a little unhappy as he slowly said to Umbridge, "You can leave now."

"Yes, Minister—" Umbridge, interrupted, gave a slightly obsequious smile, then nodded slightly and carefully stepped out of the office.

As she left, Fudge shook his head slightly, then raised his hand to look at the ring on his finger.

He reached out and gently wiped the ring, then slowly pulled open the drawer in front of him.

There was a letter lying in the drawer. The letter had already been opened, but Fudge remained silent for a few seconds before taking it out.

After reading the contents over and over again, he finally nodded slightly and picked up a brand new sheet of paper and a quill pen.

The quill pen, dipped in ink, wrote the following on the paper: "Dear Mr. Lucius Malfoy —"

swiftea