I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 112 Attacked, but the Minister of Magic

The winter sun shines for a very short period of time.

Around 5 p.m., it was already pitch black outside the castle.

This is certainly related to the season, but more so to the fact that the weather was just too bad today.

It snowed heavily for a whole day.

The three brutes of Gryffindor trudged through the thick snow and howling wind as they walked together in the forest.

"I don't understand why you two followed me." Ron shielded his eyes from the wind with his right hand and glanced back. Hannah's Justin was right next to Harry.

“Owen must be in Hogsmeade by now,” Hannah said firmly. “I haven’t seen him all day. If he knew about this, he wouldn’t have stayed away.”

"Forehead--"

What kind of bizarre logic is this?

As Ron stuffed his mouse into his pocket, he couldn't help but want to complain, "So, in your heart, Irving is just a reckless brute who loves to join in the fun?"

"Don't stick your head out, Bambi, the wind'll blow you away!" Ron whispered, then suddenly realized that they probably weren't in a position to judge Irving.

"What are you doing with that rat of yours?" Hermione asked, clutching her clothes, somewhat puzzled.

"I have to carry it with me at all times!" Ron yelled, bringing up what had happened earlier: "Have you forgotten that last week, on Christmas Day, Owen's Sirocco chased Scabbers all day long!"

"It was already missing a toe."

"I was at the school hospital that day!" Hermione said, her face flushed, after being shoved into a mouthful by the wind and snow.

"Actually, your rat really needs to exercise. Look at its fur, it's missing patches here and there, and it's all chubby. If it keeps going like this, it'll get high blood pressure and diabetes sooner or later," Justin added coldly, glancing at Ron's pocket.

He disliked Ron, that rat, to no end.

too ugly.

How could a wizard in the magical world keep a rat that can be found everywhere in the city sewers as a pet?

This puzzled him.

Hmm—Sirocco is still the cutest, and Bakal is handsome too.

On a side note, he borrowed Sirocco from Hannah to hug, then encountered the big chipmunk in the hallway, and threw Sirocco out to attack the mouse.

Of course, at that time he didn't know that the mouse was Ron's.

"High blood pressure, diabetes?" Ron turned to Justin and asked, "What's that?"

"That is."

"Alright," Hermione called out, interrupting the two in the snow. She draped a beaver fur scarf (a Christmas gift from Hagrid, enormous enough for Hermione to use as a blanket) over Luna, who was walking beside her.

"Nobody cares about your rat, let's get out of here!"

"We're going to be buried in snow soon."

She somewhat regretted going to Hufflepuff to find Owen.

Hermione originally wanted to find a powerful helper, but now so many young wizards have followed her.

Perhaps you don't understand!

We are here to stop an assassination attempt on Dumbledore!

They were facing a vicious, evil, ruthless killer who was as beautiful as the moon goddess!

This is not a picnic! This is not a picnic!!

Hermione mentally screamed in frustration.

As the executor of all this and the actual leader of the team, Harry was actually—cough cough—inexplicably a little excited.

As he used his invisibility cloak to lead everyone out of the castle one by one, his excitement grew even stronger.

What a wonderful thing it would be to go on an adventure together in this cold winter!

This adventure is just a little bit dangerous.

But he might lose his life. Wasn't his adventure a gamble with his life?

Moreover, Harry had a feeling that this would definitely be the most memorable and great adventure of his life.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore, unaware that his unfortunate students were rushing towards Hogsmeade on a snow-covered night, hoping to save him, was worried about his life.

Yes, he was indeed meeting an important figure from the Ministry of Magic in Hogsmeade.

Minister, Cornell Fudge.

If he knew, perhaps in addition to being moved, he would definitely deduct 20 points from each of these unfortunate kids and then put them in solitary confinement!

Meeting Fudge tonight was indeed an unexpected event.

Dumbledore originally planned to stay at the school and quietly observe the big show tonight.

However, at noon, an urgent letter from the Ministry of Magic arrived at his office, inviting him to the Hog's Head that evening to discuss Lockhart.

It wasn't until he read that letter that Dumbledore truly began to take Lockhart's matter seriously.

After all, how could the old principal, who once had the world in his heart, have his vision stifled by a swindler?

He knew that Lockhart's stories were plagiarized from other wizards.

He even knew some of them.

But what he didn't expect was Lockhart's despicable methods—permanently erasing people's memories, and the sheer number of victims.

"Twenty-seven wizards, twenty-seven!!!" On the second floor of the Hog's Head, Fudge's furious shouts hadn't stopped since he'd seen Dumbledore. "He's taller than..."

"The mysterious person is even more despicable."

Cornelius Oswald Fudge, the British Minister for Magic, is a small man who prefers to retain power.

He was dressed in a pinstripe suit, with a bright red tie, a long black cloak, and purple pointed boots. He exuded nobility, but unfortunately, his resentful expression concealed that nobility, revealing only his cowardice.

"You even appointed him as the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor!" Fudge stared at Dumbledore's still calm face, a flash of anger crossing his eyes. "I don't believe it, Dumbledore, I don't believe it!"

This incident is a disgrace to the Ministry of Magic. Why did such an unprecedented act have to happen during his term of office? A British wizard attacked more than 27 wizards from other countries!

"You don't know his true colors?"

"Sit down, Connelly." The old headmaster picked up a cup of herbal tea from the table, took a sip, and said, "I don't understand why you have this misconception that I should know everything."

"You are Dumbledore!" Fudge sat down beside Dumbledore with heavy steps.

"Hoo~" With his eyes fixed on the greatest wizard, Fudge felt an inexplicable pressure.

This pressure made him irritable.

He's clearly the Minister of Magic!

But what the outside world always focuses on first is Dumbledore's opinion on this matter.

Although Hogwarts did lose face abroad because of Lockhart's incident, Dumbledore's prestige remained high, and this could not be tarnished by a single instance of misjudging people.

"What should we do now?" he said angrily, looking like an ammunition depot about to explode.

"Follow the law, Connery. I have no better advice than the law," Dumbledore said slowly, his tone calm yet firm.

"law!!!"

Fudge jumped to his feet. "Do you know how many letters the Ministry of Magic has received from victims this past week alone?"

"Two hundred and forty-seven letters!!!"

"That damn guy, Lockhart, he used permanent memory erasure magic, making it impossible for us to tell whether those claiming to be victims are genuine or just trying to extort money from us!"

"And all the ordinary wizards who bought his books went to Flourish and Blotts to get refunds."

"The Ministries of Magic in other countries have also sent us complaint letters. Do you know what they are?" Fudge angrily pulled a bunch of letters of different paper types from his jacket pocket.

Without even opening them, I knew these letters must have come from all over the world.

"They're saying they're demanding the British Ministry of Magic compensate the victims in order to protect the rights of their own country's wizards!"

"Compensation! How dare they even say that!" Fudge's face turned bright red.

He was trembling all over; he was clearly furious!

He's only been Minister for Magic for less than a year and a half! He hasn't even made much money for himself yet, and he's already taking it all away?

Most importantly, British wizards don't care about right or wrong.

In their view, as long as the Minister of Magic dares to pull out a single Westcopter in compensation.

Tomorrow, the Daily Prophet will carry his front-page headline: Cornelius Fudge—The Most Disgraceful Minister of Magic.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

The aroma of flower tea filled the room.

As Fudge's angry complaints reached Dumbledore's ears, he truly realized that his former student indeed lacked political talent.

He was able to become Minister of Magic because his biggest rival, Barty Crouch, was suddenly exposed to shock British wizards with the news that his son was a Death Eater.

You could say he got the Minister of Magic for free.

It is a compromise after a power struggle among multiple parties.

Fudge himself didn't have much talent.

If he truly possessed any talent, he wouldn't have been foolish enough to try and cover up Voldemort's return.

Because it wouldn't do him much good, and it might even bring him a death threat—from those crazed Death Eaters.

"Connery." Dumbledore's eyes, behind his half-moon spectacles, revealed a hint of concern.

Fudge was, after all, his student, someone he had watched grow up.

Although Lockhart's affair caused quite a stir, it did not cause any serious actual harm to the British wizarding world; it was merely a loss of face.

We should lend him a hand!

The old headmaster calmly said, "You should go talk to Barty Crouch; he might have a solution!"

"Him?" Upon hearing that name, Fudge's hair stood on end, and he roared like an enraged lion, "You mean I should beg him? Oh! Merciful Mr. Crouch, you are so resourceful, can you give me an idea?"

"Yeah?"

"Or do you want to put him on the throne and oust me?" Blinded by anger, Fudge blurted out his true feelings.

Buddy Crouch could be considered Fudge's taboo.

Although he was no longer qualified to compete with himself for the ministerial position.

But Fudge, who had already tasted power, was not completely at ease with him.

Especially the person in front of him, Dumbledore, if he wanted to, he could even put Barty Crouch's Death Eater son on the throne of Minister of Magic.

This is the prestige of the greatest wizard.

It is beyond our reach and deeply frightening.

"Connelly—I..." A hint of disappointment flashed in the old principal's eyes. As one of his outstanding students, Fudge had various flaws back then, but he was far from this.

He got up, wanting to calm the student who had gone mad.

Just then, a loud "Boom!" was heard.

The massive explosion and the resulting shockwave easily tore apart the house they were in.

The entire roof of the Pighead Bar was wiped away by this curse.

The howling wind from outside rushed in.

Wow, I've got it all figured out! I think I'll finish writing the escape room story in just over 110 chapters.

The next two chapters will take off, and the locked room mystery will end.

(End of this chapter)