Hogwarts: Dumbledore reigned over the wizarding world.

Chapter 303 Dumbledore, as long as you don't tell, no one will know!

Based on Hermione's experience in handling Vaughn's letters these past few days, more than half of them probably seek cooperation or order potions.

People always flock to "authority," and some impatient ones don't even need Vaughn's reply; they simply attach a Galleon draft from the Fairy Bank with a magical signature, but without any numbers.

Hermione was taken aback by the sheer generosity of his spending.

However, Vaughn usually had Hermione destroy those letters, because people who were that extravagant usually had problems.

The remaining half are usually invitations to write articles, reviews, experimental reports, etc., sent by magazines such as "Extraordinary Potions".

Whether in Muggle society or the magical world, truly accomplished academics are highly sought after by academic journal editors.

Vaughn is undoubtedly a top-tier expert in potions!

Finally, there are private letters and official correspondence. The private letters are mostly from Vaughn's friends, such as Pandora Lovegood, Newt Scamander, and so on.

Official correspondence is more complicated, especially after the North American "academic visit," many southern countries have joined the international trade system for wolfsbane medicine. Since the start of the semester in September, Party C has been working on cooperation in this area.

A few days ago, when Vaughn was in a bad mental state, Hermione submitted several applications for werewolf solutions from Pacific island nations.

According to the international trade system for wolf poison, it actually involves sending C-class werewolves to the local area to deal with the roaming werewolves.

Hermione enjoyed helping Vaughn with these matters; it made her feel closer to him. On the other hand, for some reason, she enjoyed being immersed in official duties.

Looking at his girlfriend who was staring at him expectantly, Vaughn was speechless for a moment, but still distributed some letters to Hermione.

He pondered for a moment, then picked up his pen and wrote back to Dumbledore.

On the other side of the world, in the Far East late at night.

Mount Hua.

With a crackling sound, Umbridge burst out of the air. The cold wind blowing from the mountain made her bulky body, wrapped in a pink sweater, shiver. She wrapped her clothes tighter and walked up the mountain path.

The mountain paths of Mount Hua are full of Muggles during the day, and at night, the sections of the path at the top of the mountain are guarded by Muggles in strange uniforms, who stand motionless in the cold wind.

"Strange Easterners!"

Umbridge muttered to himself as he quickly traversed the mountain path, making a few turns until a platform carved out of the mountainside came into view, upon which sat several ancient buildings.

Umbridge hurried into one of the buildings, and as soon as she opened the door, she heard Minister Fudge's drunken voice: "Ha, Dolores, darling, how's the situation going?"

Inside the house, the draft through the hall howled loudly.

Umbridge disliked this kind of classical Eastern architecture; in fact, she disliked every single detail of it.

This underdeveloped country, this remote mountain where you can't even buy coffee.

This includes Muggle tourists during the day, as well as the Muggle guards who just passed by and who are protecting the mountain path at night.

And right before my eyes, Cornelius Fudge, drunk and sprawled on the strange wooden chair of an Easterner, looked like a lump of rotten flesh!

Yes, Umbridge disliked Fudge, even though to outsiders she was always Fudge's most loyal confidante.

In reality, the two were merely cooperating and exploiting each other. Fudge needed a relatively trustworthy helper who could do things for him and convey his will. This helper could not be a Muggle, because "Muggles are Dumbledore's natural allies, and that old madman used his deceitful methods to bewitch the foolish Muggles."

This was a statement that Umbridge overheard Fudge complaining in his office two years ago.

At the same time, the helper cannot be a pureblood.

"Purebloods are aristocratic clans, a giant octopus. They want to dye everything in the world the color of purebloods, then put it in a coffin and let it rot and stink, never allowing it to see the light of day again—once it dies, it will always be purebloods."

This was a quote from Umbridge, who overheard Vaughn and Akinbad talking a few months ago in North America, in which Vaughn made his assessment of the purebloods.

Despite their differing languages, Cornelius Fudge and Vaughn Weasley share a strikingly similar view on purebloods, to Umbridge's knowledge.

All of these factors suggest that only mixed-race individuals fit Cornelius Fudge's criteria.

Umbridge understood this perfectly, which is why she never liked Fudge. Ever since she was sorted into Slytherin by the Sorting Hat at Hogwarts, she had always believed that she was of pure blood.

They are one of the 28 sacred clans and distant relatives of the Selwyn family.

Even though she had worked her entire life as a lowly clerk in the Ministry of Magic's maintenance department, she managed to get him quietly "retired."

Neither her father nor her mother, who was frivolous, had Muggle blood, and ultimately disappeared from Muggle society with her Squib brother, had ever confirmed this claim.

Connelly Fudge's recruitment was like a thorn, constantly reminding her that she was just indulging in wishful thinking!

However, although Umbridge was dissatisfied, she did not resist too much. The reason was not complicated. It was simply that Fudge held power, which gave her, who had reached a power bottleneck at that time, reached the end of the Magic Law Enforcement Division, and was defeated by Amelia Burns, the possibility of advancing to the core of power.

Yes, Umbridge came from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. During Voldemort's reign, she was an intern in the Office of Prohibition of Magical Misuse, and she rose through the ranks in the same department. After Crouch's downfall, she was Amelia's main rival.

Umbridge is a natural-born politician, so she can suppress her own likes and dislikes, accept Fudge's recruitment, and see at a glance Fudge's dependence on and fear of Dumbledore. So last year, when Vaughn was developing Wolfsbane Potion and intended to form C, it was she who instigated Fudge to reach out and "reap the benefits".

She was also politically astute; during her trip to North America, she readily yielded to Vaughn Weasley and became a traitor.

Umbridge has no loyalty.

Once she witnessed Vaughn Weasley's wisdom, skill, and strength in North America, her heart was no longer with Fudge.

Unfortunately, her new owner needs her to stay with Fudge.

This wasn't even for reasons such as surveillance, infiltration, or disruption.

The real reason was that her new master, Vaughn Weasley, needed her to be Fudge's right-hand woman: "I need Fudge to do his job well, and he needs to stay in this trivial position of minister until the time is right."

Umbridge didn't know what the timing was, but hiding herself and playing along was her usual tactic. In other words, the spy work was actually in her favor at the moment.

Of course, if one day a guy more powerful than Vaughn Weasley were to appear, then Umbridge felt that her current job would be very advantageous for changing allegiances and joining a newer master, which is why she did not object.

She has no loyalty whatsoever!

Lost in thought, Umbridge stepped into the ancient building. Tofuji flashed that familiar, fawning smile: "I've found out, Your Excellency, there are indeed four legendary wizards living in seclusion on Mount Laojun—Merlin, just how many legends do the Easterners have? Such a waste—"

"And then? How many are still employed?"

Despite appearing drunk, Fudge's voice remained completely clear and undisturbed.

This guy has always been a good performer.

Umbridge chuckled ingratiatingly, with a girlish charm, and replied, "You know, Easterners are very tight-lipped, but we're not the only ones eyeing them. Orim Maxim of Beauxbatons has been contacting the French Ministry of Magic recently, hoping they can officially support her 'work' here."

"And then there's that South American native named Silva, she arrived even earlier than us—these guys don't get up early for nothing. If China didn't have what they needed, I don't believe they'd be so eager. That's the problem, though, what's so attractive about a poor and backward China to them?"

Decades of "isolation" have not been without cost. Even though the magical world has a very low frequency of innovation, society, technology, and other aspects of the world have actually been making progress.

Moreover, there are also economic issues.

Magic brings convenience to wizards, allowing them to live comfortably without worrying about food and clothing, but it cannot conjure things out of thin air.

Everything in the magical world, except for spells, potions, alchemy, rituals, and so on, as well as the practice and development of education and industrial technologies, all require a large amount of basic magical raw materials. In the magical world, no country can support a complete raw material supply chain on its own.

For the past 50 years, China has been operating at near-overcapacity to keep the magic industry running smoothly. Many raw materials have been removed from their native environments, causing cultivation costs to skyrocket. Some raw materials that cannot be cultivated and are subject to strict controls have either been smuggled at high prices or have had to be replaced with expensive substitutes.

By today's day, the wealth accumulated by China over the past thousand years has probably been exhausted.

What could France and South America possibly covet in a place where the magical world's economy is on the verge of collapse?

The answer is obvious.

Only the wizard himself!

To be precise, they are high-end combatants among wizards.

Listening quietly to Umbridge's words, Fudge's chubby, flushed face flashed with a shrewdness.

"My dear Dolores, do you really think there are that many legendary wizards among the Easterners?" he asked slowly.

With a fawning yet slightly reserved smile on his face, Umbridge did not give a definite answer, but smiled shrewdly: "Forgive my ignorance, I cannot see the truth, but from what I have investigated, the French and South Americans seem more willing to believe this conclusion."

Umbridge knew Fudge's character very well.

Insecure yet arrogant, conceited yet cunning.

The other party wasn't actually asking for her real opinion. In fact, Fudge's willingness to come to the Far East meant that he, like the French and South Americans, believed in the "facts" he wanted to believe.

The so-called "investigation" was merely a means to reinforce his own judgment.

Therefore, all she needed to do was pander to the respected Minister Fouché.

Sure enough, after a moment of contemplation, the esteemed minister issued his instructions: "Ignore those two women, Busbarton and Castrobusher, and intensify your efforts to win over that member of the Central Refining Committee. Express our friendship to them. Also—"

Fudge hesitated for a moment, then, as if suppressing his nausea and irritation, said, "—Go contact Dumbledore. In principle, the ministry will fully support his potions exchange with Vaughn Weasley, but they also have to give something in return."

A strong wind swept through from high above, stirring the curtains of the ancient building.

The whispers of the two negotiating were quickly torn apart and scattered by the wind, but before they completely disappeared into the sound of the wind, in a corner of the room, in an area covered by a curtain, a spell that did not belong to Fudge and Umbridge enveloped the space.

Their conversation echoed clearly in the narrow space that had been "erased" by magic.

Dumbledore stood there, listening calmly. The wind ruffled his dressing robe, but it was as if it were merely passing over something transparent, neither revealing his presence nor inflicting any cold.

He, like the space shrouded in magic, became alienated.

"Haven't seen you for decades, when did you develop this eavesdropping habit?"

A voice suddenly came from behind.

Dumbledore turned around and saw that a huge bubble had suddenly risen up on the wooden, flat, and hard wall behind him, like a swamp.

Terrifying cracks spread from the edges of the "bubble" outwards, quickly covering the entire wall.

It seemed as if the wall would collapse at any moment.

But it didn't actually happen.

Those cracks seem to be just an image, or rather—a visual spatial illusion. It's not the wall that's cracked, but the space in which the wall is located.

It is a visual expression of the imagery of the space occupied by matter!

Dumbledore showed no sign of surprise, simply watching the "bubble" patiently waiting for it to burst and a figure to emerge from it.

The figure appeared so light and ethereal, as if walking in the reflection of matter.

"Good evening, Lee," Dumbledore greeted the figure. "You seem to have no right to criticize me, my dear old friend, having spent the whole day hiding in Umbridge's shadow."

"When someone comes to my house, as the host, I have to see whether he is a guest or a wolf."

"And then? Did you figure it out?"

The mountain road was swept by a biting wind at night, and the view was expansive. From here, the undulating dark outline of the Qinling Mountains stretched into the depths of the night like a blurry line.

Until it merges into the distant horizon, a city adorned with starlight-like lights.

As Dumbledore felt the mountain breeze, he looked at the scene where the mountains, forests, wilderness, and city met, and listened to the faint sounds of porters' chants and donkey and mule bells coming from some unknown distance below the mountain path.

They were indistinct and drifting, mingling in the night and traveling in the cold wind, eventually blending into a feeling he liked—a feeling that was both natural and lived-in, cool yet lonely.

Dumbledore's dressing robe fluttered in the wind, while Li Tianshi, who was also strolling along the mountain path beside him, remained completely unaffected.

He was like a shadow walking in the night, even his voice was faint: "Of course I could see it."

"Who are the guests, and who are the wolves?"

"Yes, they are!"

"but--"

He paused for a moment and said, "I just need to confirm that we have the basis for cooperation."

Dumbledore remained silent, and the smile that had been on his lips gradually faded as Li Tianshi spoke.

He gazed at the distant outline of the city, which, though lit, was rather dim in the darkness, and after a moment of contemplation, sighed, "Survival? No, you're playing with fire!"

Li Tianshi's illusory, shadow-like body showed no abnormalities.

Dumbledore sighed: "After the disintegration of the Slavic peoples, those legends ostensibly returned to their homelands, but in reality, they all secretly joined the Federation. The current situation is just like that of Africa over 100 years ago!"

Master Li remained silent.

He knew what Dumbledore wanted to say.

The Federation was once a plaything of the major Eurasian powers. After all, the establishment of this "nation above nations" was originally a monstrosity created by the vested interests of pure-blooded magicians to facilitate the implementation of the Secrecy Act.

Until more than 100 years ago, in order to counter Asia, Europeans "generously" invited African wizards to join them. At that time, the African magical community, like their Muggle society, was loose, fragmented, and in a relatively primitive state. It was teetering on the brink of collapse under the invasion of advanced European magical civilization. The replacement of traditional African hand gestures with a wand to become the mainstream means of casting spells on the African continent was a result of the invasion, and this influence has continued to this day.

The pure-blooded Europeans brought African wizards into the federation because they valued their looseness, weakness, and ease of manipulation.

But those arrogant fellows overlooked a very inconspicuous clause in the magical contract established when the "Kingdom Above the Kingdom" was founded, for the purpose of mutual checks and balances:

Every independent and sovereign nation and political entity has one and only one sacred vote.

The purebloods have brought in a monster themselves!

The magical contract holds that every African tribe is an independent political entity, and the contract recognizes that each of them has a sacred vote!

Thus, amidst the astonishment, anger, and panic of the traditional European powers, including Britain, France, Germany, and Italy, the power structure of the Federation underwent a dramatic transformation due to this unwarranted oversight.

The federation is no longer a toy for large countries. Under the control of the quick-thinking African wizards, tribes and small countries quickly form an alliance, seize control of the "nation above the nation," and turn it into a paradise for small countries!

Looking at the silent Master Li, Dumbledore continued, "I don't know the reasons for the Slavs' transformation, but at least they've now joined the Union. Li, do you think anyone in the world is still a thorn in the side of the Union? You've woven everything into a lie!"

"As long as you don't tell, no one will know how many legends we have."

"All legends know one thing," "No, Albus, your encounter with Vaughn Weasley in America a few months ago suggests that some unsettling changes have taken place in the wizarding world. The enigmatic DeSantis must have been making the Federation suspicious all this time, hasn't he?"

"Who are you threatening?"

In the biting mountain wind and dim starlight, Master Li smiled and replied, "Of course, it's all those who stand in our way!"