A Certain Magical Hogwarts

Chapter 537 Crouch, are you interrogating me?!

Although the first match won't take place until tomorrow night, there are still many other things worth seeing at the Quidditch World Cup.

For example, the mascots of various countries.

However, William and Hermione showed no intention of going out for a stroll.

Instead, they hid in their room and discussed brewing potions for Bertha.

Seeing this, Neville was completely dumbfounded.

You two were supposed to come here to have fun, but you secretly started taking extra classes behind my back?

Is this what a top student's happy summer vacation is like?

Neville hesitated.

Going out to have fun makes me feel inexplicably guilty. The top student next door is not only more talented than you, but also works harder... How can you even have the nerve to go out and have fun?

I shouldn't go. It's summer vacation, and it's the World Cup. A once-in-four-years opportunity, and I'm going to study here?

Most importantly, Neville's head starts to hurt whenever he touches a book to study.

It was an old ailment; he suddenly contracted this incurable disease when he started first grade. His grandmother traveled all over the mountains and consulted many famous doctors, but none of them could cure him.

The other subjects are still manageable, but Potions... every time Neville looks at the textbook cover, it's like he's under a death curse.

The buzzing of Professor Snape filled my ears, giving me the illusion that his voice and appearance were still there, and his smile would last forever...

Professor Snape's destructive power is that terrifying!

Sigh, he really should go out and have some fun, and kick Professor Snape's image out of his mind.

But Neville instantly perked up when William pulled out gill sac grass and a series of Mediterranean-style herbs.

If you're going to talk about that, then I'm not sleepy anymore!

Neville's herbalism was the best of all his subjects.

Even Professor Sprout praised it highly, believing that the biggest mistake the Sorting Hat made was sorting a herbalist genius into a wretched place like Gryffindor.

In her view, the stupid lions were a bunch of hyperactive patients who couldn't patiently cultivate precious herbs.

Atmosphere is very important.

So Neville should come to Hufflepuff!

This claim is debatable; at least McGonagall wouldn't agree. However, Neville certainly seemed more invigorated upon seeing the herbs.

My back doesn't ache anymore, my legs don't hurt anymore, and I have more energy to study.

He borrowed some herbs and immediately went back to his room to study them.

With this thing around, who would even watch the game?!

At Christmas, Professor Sprout gave him a devil's web as a gift.

He spent the whole night carefully examining it and developed more than a dozen new uses.

With gill sac grass, we could practically fly to the heavens!

William and Hermione discussed the plan all afternoon, and it wasn't until late afternoon that they finally finalized the cooking steps.

They didn't see Nico and the others, nor did they see the three little ones return... Instead, they were greeted by a house-elf.

He was an unusually small fellow, wearing a tea towel for wiping teawares, as if he were wearing a loose robe.

"Mr. Crouch invited the two of us?" William took a sip of tea to moisten his dry throat.

He glanced at it and then handed the letter to Hermione.

Crouch's letter was very formal; in his capacity as Director of the Department of International Cooperation and Exchanges, he invited the two to a meeting.

They even sent house-elves, which made it difficult for William to refuse.

William's reason for not wanting to go was simple: the Goblet of Fire could not be handed over to the Ministry of Magic for the time being.

He hasn't examined Nicole yet.

Besides, William wouldn't feel comfortable leaving this kind of thing with anyone else.

"Yes, Mr. Stark." The little guy looked up, revealing a pair of huge brown eyes.

"The master instructed that you two must go there, as he has important matters to discuss."

The house-elf named Sparkle bowed deeply, her expression showing great reverence for the two.

William frowned... Something important? It didn't sound like the Triwizard Tournament or the Goblet of Fire.

"Let's go then, Hermione."

He nodded, and Hermione stood up as well.

As evening approached, the campers on the site began to get busy.

People were coming and going all around; many were cooking over fires, and others were queuing up to fetch water.

These people came here as if they were experiencing Muggle life, even though a single spell could have easily solved the problem.

Passing by a pyramid tent, I saw a little boy, about five years old, squatting outside the large tent.

He held a magic wand and happily poked at the tent.

This is clearly stolen from the parents.

Then, the tent was suddenly set ablaze, the flames spread, and two naked young witches ran out.

William's eyes widened in disbelief. This kind of brat should... be sent to college.

So intelligent.

He wanted to go up and help her more closely, but Hermione glared at him, so he quickly looked away.

After walking a while longer, we came across two little wizards, only seven or eight years old, riding on two toy flying brooms, flying low.

Then, they crashed into Malfoy's newly erected tent. With a loud bang, the tent collapsed again.

Malfoy was looking for his beloved peacock when, reminded by Goyle, he turned around and found that his tent had collapsed again.

He was furious and was about to teach those two brats a lesson when a dozen or so big black men, each over two meters tall, suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

They skillfully lay down next to the tent, claiming they had been hit, and staged an accident for Malfoy.

"Sparkle, do you know any house-elves who don't have jobs?"

As she walked along the road, Hermione began working again to improve the working environment for the house-elves.

"No, all the fairies I know have been hired by your shops," Sparkle shrieked.

"You know us?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, I know Dobby, Miss Granger! Dobby talks about you two all the time, about the delivery shop, about how many orders he's delivered, how much money he's made."

"Really?" Hermione asked with a smile. "He sounds very happy."

"Dobby is very happy, but..." Sparkle shook her head and said, "Miss, to be frank, what you're doing probably won't do him any good."

"Why?" Hermione asked in surprise. "Is something wrong?"

"Dobby's head is always on the line about making money," Sparkle said sadly. "He's thinking about using that money to buy himself clothes."

"If he does this, he won't be able to find a job later, miss."

“But he’s already found a job,” Hermione said earnestly. “We offered him one.”

"That's because you're kind and pity it, but sooner or later you won't be able to pay it, and it will be homeless again, without a job," Shan Shan said.

"Dobby can create value as long as he works, and we'll earn more money. We won't be unable to support him," Hermione said.

William shrugged.

Hermione is talking to a house-elf from the wizarding world about "labor," "value," and "surplus value"... Will she understand?

Sparkle clearly believed that their labor was worthless, and that William and Hermione were simply giving away money by paying them.

Soon, they arrived at a gray tent. This tent, strictly adhering to the rules, was almost entirely undecorated and looked exactly like a Muggle tent.

Upon entering the tent, you'll find a spacious room with a desk in the center.

Crouch is working on the documents.

He stood up and gestured for the two of them to sit down on the sofa.

At that moment, Sparkle brought in the tea and snacks and placed them on the table next to the fireplace.

"It's a great honor to meet you both," Crouch said.

"Thank you so much for hosting us," William said.

"Mr. Stark, I have invited you here today because there is something important I would like to discuss with you."

"If it's about the Goblet of Fire..." William said softly, "Mr. Crouch, that goblet is with Dumbledore right now, and we'll probably have to wait until he returns."

"It's not that..." Crouch hesitated for a moment before saying, "I want to talk to you about... Bertha."

Hermione raised an eyebrow curiously, her eyes widening. "Bertha?"

"Yes." Crouch's eyes suddenly turned stern.

"You were the first to find Bertha, and I want to know... why did you suddenly go to Albania when you were in Venice?"

William was silent for a moment, then suddenly chuckled.

"Mr. Crouch, may I assume... you are interrogating us both?"

"Do we need to report to you, the Director of the International Exchange Department, where we go?"

"You don't need to report to me where you're going, but..." Crouch picked up a piece of paper from a pile of documents.

"This is a letter from the Director of the Department of International Exchanges of Albania to me."

He said...you two illegally crossed into Albania and are also suspected of burning down a large area of ​​forest.

Furthermore, at the nearby Prancing Horse Inn, many wizards died.

This has escalated into a diplomatic crisis, which concerns me. I also have the right to investigate.

William merely glanced at it and said dismissively, "Any evidence?"

"Many Aurors witnessed your presence..."

"Mr. Crouch!" William interrupted rudely, "I thought you'd be smarter."

"You need as many witnesses as you want, I can find them for you."

"Furthermore, I have evidence to prove that we never went to Albania."

"What evidence?" Crouch raised an eyebrow.

"Mr. He Wen, the Italian Minister of Magic, can testify that after leaving Italy, we went directly to France."

The Director of the Legal Enforcement Division of the French Ministry of Magic can also testify that Hermione and I used the Portkey to go directly to Paris and have been staying at his house ever since.

Are the testimonies of these two men...compared to your so-called Albanian Aurors...sufficient?

"Sir, we didn't go to Albania at all. It was a French wizard who found Bertha and sent her to France."

We took her back to England with us!

That's the whole story. There was no smuggling involved, and no forest destruction!

We... are innocent!

Crouch leaned back and gave William a long look.

He was silent.

……

……

(Please vote for this post, everyone.)

Crying and chirping.

The exam was this morning. It was tough. The teacher thought 60 was the passing score, but during the exam, he chatted with another teacher and discovered that 75 was the passing score. However, he had set the questions based on a passing score of 60, and the later questions were very difficult!

It's gone. I feel like strangling him now.

Thank you to the generous donor "Pure Wind of Sorrow" for the donation.

(End of this chapter)