Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle.

Chapter 335 Finding Peter an Assistant

"Professor Levent, may I have a drink with you?" the witch greeted warmly.

Melvin and Lupin were walking side by side down Hogsmeade Street, passing the Hog's Head pub at the village entrance, when suddenly a black cloak with a hood covering his face appeared.

He was short and stout, his face was obscured, and his voice seemed somewhat familiar, but he couldn't recall where he had seen him before.

Umbridge stood at the tavern entrance, reaching out to take Melvin's arm.

Melvin, not expecting anyone to be waiting for him at the Pig's Head, narrowed his eyes slightly as he observed the vaguely familiar black-robed witch: "Excuse me, ma'am, do we know each other?"

Lupin, standing beside him, smiled, assuming it was a fan—a rare sight indeed. But as his nostrils flared, the werewolf's keen sense of smell kicked in, and his expression changed slightly.

“Professor Levent, we agreed to discuss matters concerning the Ministry of Magic, have you forgotten?” Umbridge reminded him cautiously. “Last month at the Ministry of Magic elevator gate, on the second floor, at the Office of Executions, do you remember Lestrange?”

A glint of light flickered in Melvin's dark pupils. He had already recognized the former deputy minister through magic. Upon hearing the two distinctive names, he glanced indifferently at Umbridge and then at his watch.
"Remus, it's getting late. I might be a little late. You should go back to the castle first."

"Would you like to have dinner with this lady? Although the Flaming Whiskey at the Hog's Head is good, it's not exactly a good place for a date. I'd recommend Lady Patiffe's Tea House instead. If you have enough time, you can explore Hogsmeade properly..."

Lu Ping pretended to be unaware and offered sincere advice, but there was an undisguised sarcasm in his tone.

"I don't need your advice, go back to the castle." Melvin gave him a shove, sounding annoyed.

Umbridge's dark gaze fixed on the two men. Their tone was strange; she wasn't sure if they were just making small talk or using coded language to convey information. She urged them somewhat urgently:

“This will do, Professor. Scripps can’t wait any longer.”

The ambiguous title was clearly not the wizard's name. The last time I heard the name Scripps was when an old, dying house-elf was on the verge of death.

Melvin quickly recalled the Lestrange servant and realized that this was Umbridge's source of information.

He looked down and saw Umbridge's face hidden behind her hood, slightly hunched over, shoulders hunched, speaking in a rough voice, trying her best to disguise herself as a strange witch.

Melvin recalled that the house-elf had stayed at Lestrange's manor. When he and Dobby left with the vault key, they thought the servant would stay at the old manor forever, or return to Hogwarts after he came to his senses.

He was a dutiful but somewhat eccentric house servant, like the other house-elves in the school kitchen, who had served a family in their youth and had remained loyal ever since.

I wonder if that old guy is still alive?

Melvin tilted his head slightly to look at the pub and suddenly realized that the Pig's Head was a good place. The windows and kerosene lamp shades were blocked by years of grease, and the dim light in the pub cast blurry shadows on the old tables and chairs, making the whole hall look gray.

It wasn't lunchtime yet, and the tavern didn't seem to be open for business. The goatee-bearded owner, dressed in a gray robe, stood behind the bar, wiping glasses with a dirty rag while watching the two men.

In the dimly lit tavern, his figure was hidden in the shadows, and from a distance, one would never associate him with the legendary wizard Dumbledore.

Umbridge, completely unaware that he was walking into a trap, eagerly poured Melvin more wine.

These fawning gestures appeared very practiced, smooth, and natural, without any restraint. She had repeated such behavior countless times before being promoted to senior deputy minister.

“It seems we haven’t properly greeted each other yet, Professor Levent. Let me introduce myself again. I am Dolores Umbridge, an employee of the Office for the Prevention of Misuse of Magic at the Ministry of Magic. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Umbridge pulled back his hood, revealing a face with loose skin, golden curly hair, and sunken small eyes, like a toad in a choir.

“No need to be so polite, Ms. Umbridge, we can speak frankly.”

Melvin didn't touch the drink; he had a new understanding of this ruthless witch: "Where did you learn about Lestrange?"

"Before Dumbledore and you initiated the resolution to remove me from office, I was the Senior Undersecretary of the Ministry of Magic. Your Excellency Fudge was unwilling to be trapped in documents and files all day and delegated the power of the Minister to handle trivial matters to me."

Umbridge grinned, seemingly quite pleased with himself: "Perhaps Professor Flitwick didn't tell you, but I graduated from Ravenclaw. I had excellent grades in school, and I'm good at finding things that others miss in inconspicuous clauses and case receipts."

Umbridge seemed to forget his pretense as he boasted, becoming somewhat carried away. His deliberately suppressed voice became high-pitched and shrill again, but Melvin did not interrupt him; he was always patient with things that interested him.

He pondered whether to lure Umbridge to Albania by telling her the truth about Voldemort directly, or to coax and deceive her, waiting for her to discover the surprise herself.

"The house-elf, old and confused, wandered out of Lestrange's old house and roamed the outskirts of Muggle villages, exposing itself to Muggle travelers and causing a small disturbance. An Auror from the Department of Executions brought it back to the Ministry of Magic, and the Department of Disasters erased the relevant Muggle memories."

"The house-elf knows magic, but has lost its mind. According to regulations, it should be disposed of harmlessly by the Dangerous Animals Disposal Committee. The executioner Walton McNeil is an old friend of the Lestrange brothers. He recognized the elf and wanted to take it back to his home to cut off its head with pure blood and hang it on the wall."

“Those brainless guys don’t know how to tamper with the files at all, so it’s easy to spot their mistakes. That’s why I detained that house-elf, gave it a few drops of truth serum, and dug out all the contents of its brain.”

Umbridge's eyes gleamed with a cruel yet excited light. She may not have mastered Occlumency, or she may not even be aware of it. In any case, she had not erected any barriers to protect her memories.

As the words were described, those scenes flowed silently along with his gaze, appearing before Melvin's eyes.

In the equally dimly lit waiting room, the aging house-elf wailed and cried, gritting his teeth and refusing to reveal anything about his master. The magic of the truth serum and his conviction tore at his body, but in the end, the truth serum prevailed.

Every time Skripal uttered a word, he would repeatedly slam his body against the shackles and chains, trying to punish himself with pain.

Bloodstains flowed and spread along the prison chair. By the time Umbridge had gathered the information, the body was on its last legs and finally died.

Melvin's gray eyes cleared, pulling him out of the scene in his memory, as if he were getting to know this toad-like witch all over again. The secret she had unearthed a few months ago happened to be in a very embarrassing situation because of the lawsuit against unlicensed apparition.

Having learned the enemy's secret, they did not immediately use it to attack or frame him, but waited until now.

In a sense, Umbridge was a witch with great political talent.

"Professor Levent from Hogwarts spent a great deal of time and effort, going to great lengths to enter the Lestrange family's old mansion and retrieve the vault key..."

Umbridge was overjoyed, as if she could see the lost power beckoning to her: "Rest assured, Skripal is dead. Only I know this secret." She slowly sipped her eggnog, resuming her demeanor as a senior deputy minister, victory assured.

"Half of the wizarding world has heard that Professor Levent is a businessman who is good at making deals with others and can always create a win-win situation. This time, I also want to make a deal with the professor."

"Go on," Melvin said, his gaze deep and patient.

"The Ministry of Magic will be selecting a new minister before summer, and I need your help in terms of connections and wealth to help me run for the position."

Umbridge spoke very slowly, but with great determination, staring directly into Melvin's eyes:

"Don't say you can't do it. Few people have noticed that Professor Levent, a foreign wizard, has become one of the most influential wizards on this island in just two or three years. You can win over those old guys in Machiban of Wizengamo, and you can get votes from Eckmore of the Department of Transportation and Bagman of the Department of Sports..."

Melvin pondered for a moment, then looked up and asked in confusion:

"The Ministry of Magic has seven departments in total. The Department of Transportation and the Department of Sports only have two votes each. Even if you include Wizengamot, it's not enough to guarantee your election success, is it?"

Umbridge waved his hand confidently:
"Those guys in the Accidents and Disasters Division and the Fantastic Creatures Management Division used to be Fudge's faction. They've been sidelined and have a tough time lately. If I just knock on their office doors, I believe many people who don't get along with Burns will be willing to vote for me."

"They're Fudge's faction, shouldn't we support Fudge?"

“They used to be Fudge’s faction, and they’ve always supported King Galleon!” Umbridge corrected.

Melvin's expression suddenly dawned on him: "That's why you wanted me to provide financial assistance!"

"Rest assured, Professor Levent, I have said that this is a win-win business."

Umbridge's smile was genuine, ugly yet radiant: "As long as I successfully take over as Minister of Magic, I will definitely keep the secret of that house-elf, and I will also actively support the business of the Magic Mirror Club, allowing you to easily acquire more wealth... I can swear an unbreakable oath!"

Before arriving at the tavern, she had already rehearsed the dialogue in her mind a thousand times, and she was certain that Melvin had no choice but to agree.

For a long time, Melvin acted like an idealist, developing and promoting the Shadow Mirror, reforming Muggle studies courses, seemingly embodying the youth of a legendary wizard...

After obtaining information about Skridge, she believed she had seen through the foreign professor's true colors: greedy for wealth and willing to do anything to achieve it.

What reason could such a greedy wizard have to refuse her offer?

“I’m sorry, I refuse.” Melvin gave an unexpected answer.

Umbridge's smile froze on her face, her pupils revealing an expression of incomprehension, astonishment and bewilderment written all over her face: "Why? I mean, you're a smart person... this... I..."

“Ms. Umbridge, you may not have investigated Gringotts, but the Lestrange family vault was not stolen.”

Melvin said unhurriedly, "The Gallon inside is piled up like a mountain, and the treasures accumulated over the ages are displayed on wooden shelves, just as they were before Bellatrix and the Lestrange brothers went to prison. Not a single gram of gold or a single gem has been lost."

“But what you did… deceiving house-elves and stealing purebloods is enough to ruin your reputation.” Umbridge’s expression suddenly changed, revealing a hint of bravado beneath the surface.

“Where’s the evidence?” Melvin asked.

“Skri…”

Umbridge paused for a moment, then suddenly remembered that the old elf was dead and her body had been burned to ashes, so her testimony was not convincing at all.

“Last time at the Ministry of Magic, I just didn’t want to waste time and gave you a few perfunctory replies. Did you really think you could blackmail me into doing things for you with baseless slander?”

Melvin asked in a low voice, his face sharply defined by light and shadow, like a demon lurking in the shadows: "Do you know what will happen after I leave this tavern?"

“What?” Umbridge stammered.

"I will extract the memory of this conversation, edit and splice it together, and project it onto the projection screen so that wizards outside can see that the former senior vice minister, after being dismissed, fabricated false information to threaten innocent foreign professors..."

Melvin's eyes were misty with a faint smile: "The tavern owners will dig up your background and spread it among the patrons. Your past actions will become the talk of the town."

Within the family, despite being of mixed race, she disregards her father, a true repairman, and instead attaches herself to the unrelated Selwyn family. In the workplace, she steals credit from colleagues, flatters successive superiors, and then severs ties after being promoted…

Umbridge's name will become a complete joke.

Forget about becoming a minister or being reinstated as deputy minister; he won't even be able to keep his job as a regular employee of the Ministry of Magic, and his future will only become more difficult.

These scenes flashed through Umbridge's mind rapidly, every detail exceptionally clear, making her break out in a cold sweat.

This Levent is neither an idealist nor a greedy fool, but a treacherous and manipulative dark wizard.

Having already been taken advantage of several times, why would she still walk right into the trap?!

“Or, you have another option,” Melvin said softly.

"What choice?" Umbridge asked nervously, gripping her eggnog glass tightly. "I can give you all my accumulated wealth, as well as the connections I've built in the Ministry of Magic. I've got some dirt on some guys, which will be helpful to you!"

“I have a business in Albania and need clever people to develop the market and do some unconventional work.”

Melvin was unfazed by her offer: "Like you said, I'm good at business and happy to cooperate for mutual benefit. You can get what you want when you come back from Albania."

Umbridge's slightly trembling shoulders relaxed, and a complex light flickered in his eyes.

(End of this chapter)