Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle

"OK……

"understood."

Wright's nodding movement suddenly stopped, and he frowned and looked up at the leader of the Magic Mirror Club: "These are all my jobs, what about you?"

Melvin paused for a moment, then said solemnly, "Things here are almost done. I plan to return to New York, to Ilvermorny."

“Opening up new markets…”

Wright's heart suddenly felt balanced.

The leader's life is indeed not easy. He has not even had two days' rest after finishing his work here, and he has to go to the United States again.

The sales and production of the mirrors were exhausting, as were dealing with various forces. Perhaps Melvin's job was even harder.

It’s all for the Magic Mirror Club!

"..."

Melvin was silent for a moment as he watched Wright's expression change constantly. He didn't know what was going on in this man's mind, so it was better not to disturb him.

Charlie, the keeper, came over at some point and reminded in a muffled voice, "Professor Lewinter, it's time to feed the dragonlets again."

Melvin looked at the lake. It was a valley depression where clear water accumulated. The clear surface of the lake reflected the green shadows around it. Several young dragons had swam too far and even their shadows could not be seen clearly when standing on the shore.

Magic power was released lightly, and a blue flame bloomed out of thin air.

The fire dragon cubs sensed the magical aura and floated to the surface, flapping their wings and claws alternately as they rushed towards the shore, and finally almost glided on the surface of the lake.

Wright didn't understand what was going on, but he felt that the flame was warm, comfortable and unusually bright.

……

It rained lightly in the evening.

This is the nature of mountain terrain, it easily accumulates moisture. Fortunately, the rain was not heavy, and the drizzle watered the leaves, washing away the scorched rocks from last month. The indescribable fishy and sulfurous smell peculiar to the giant animal's nest in the air was washed away, and the woodland became moist and soft.

Before the sun completely set, a loud rumbling sound was heard in the air in the valley, accompanied by a slight vibration of the ground. The Norwegian Ridgebacks leaped into the air, chasing and colliding in the low rain clouds. Their smooth gray-black scales shone with water. A slight bump against the pine forest would break large trees in half.

The scene was somewhat fierce.

There are similar sounds in other fire dragon territories. The hissing in the Hungarian treetops is sharp and piercing, and when the Hebrew Black Dragon flaps its wings, there is a dull roar like thunder. The faint flames in the air are the Chinese Fireball Dragon playing, and the Peruvian Venomfang Dragon rolling and surging in the swamp.

A bonfire was lit in the camp.

Melvin walked out of the cabin carrying a few glass bottles and saw that the entire mountain range was in a frenzy, with flames flickering, wings flapping and birds roaring. If you didn't know better, you would have thought it was a severe thunderstorm.

The teachers and students from the Magical Beasts Summer Camp next door haven't come back yet. I guess Hagrid has been pestering Professor Kettleburn to play in the rain with Norberta.

The temperature outside was a bit low, and the blue flame in the glass jar was just right for keeping warm.

After watching quietly for a few minutes, the dark-skinned, freckled keeper Charlie came back with the two unruly tourists. The two wizards walked at a steady pace, but the half-blood giant staggered a little, holding his chest and gasping for breath.

You know what's going on without asking.

Norbeta's current size was almost as big as half the room. Any slight movement would cause more bruises on Hagrid's body. If they hadn't brought Melvin's blue fire, there might have been more burns.

Of course, Hagrid enjoyed this.

"Nobeta is incredibly strong! He'll definitely become a mighty fire dragon in the future!"

"It is now," Charlie said lightly.

"Melvin's blue flame is truly magical. With it, I can get up close and personal with a fire dragon," Professor Kettleburn sighed, his face showing some scars. "If only I had met him when I was younger, maybe I could have saved my arms and legs."

"Yeah, the magic flame," Charlie agreed.

At this time, the young professor could be seen at the entrance of the camp. In his hand, he held the glass bottle of the blue fire they had discussed. He chuckled and said, "Don't worry, I left you more than a dozen cans. It will be enough for a long time."

"What do you mean?"

Professor Kettleburn keenly sensed something was wrong and quickly asked, "Where are you going?"

"Let's go back to Mount Greylock," Melvin said calmly. "The case files for the theft have been sorted out. Several of the dark wizards involved are connected to Ilvermorny..."

Chapter 112: Principal, I am wholeheartedly devoted to the school!

The drizzle continued intermittently until the next morning.

When the first portkey to New York was activated in the morning, the reserve had not yet begun to accept tourists, and the fire dragons, tired of playing, had calmed down, and the entire mountain range was very quiet.

In the central area of ​​Norwegian Ridgeback, on the lawn in front of the camp.

Hagrid lit a fire on the flat stones. The damp wood crackled and the blue-white smoke choked people. He grinned and said, "With Melvin's flame, Norbeta will definitely be willing to get close to me. Then can I play with it however I want? Hehe..."

Professor Kettleburn ignored him and buried his head in the two lesson plans in front of him, one for training students and the other for training successor professors.

Before Melvin left, in addition to a dozen cans of blue flames, he also left him a small mirror, and reminded him not to forget to sort out the images of magical beasts in his mind, pay attention to perspective and beauty, and add commentary and music.

"Ugh……"

The retiring professor sighed, feeling even busier than a normal workday. He could only console himself: "I'll just retire next year."

"call……"

He sighed and took a deep breath, accidentally inhaling the smoke from Hagrid's burning wet wood, which immediately choked him and made him cough.

……

In the dining room where the Aurors and keepers were stationed, the house-elf chefs and waiters were already busy.

There are more guests during the summer vacation, because in addition to the staff of the protection area and the Ministry of Magic, some relatives of employees also enjoy breakfast, which can be regarded as a kind of internal employee benefit.

The keepers around occasionally mentioned the young professor:

Some expressed their gratitude to him for quelling a dragon rebellion, apprehending a dark wizard who had plotted to escape, and almost single-handedly solving a case of stolen dragon eggs; others expressed their admiration for his blue fire magic, which could actually make violent and agitated dragons become gentle and approachable, and lamented that this magic could not be spread widely;

Others had bar-related businesses at home and were very excited. After a few weeks, they had intuitively felt the profits of neighboring Budapest and were eager to get a share of the profits from the young professor.

The two witches from the Rosier family sat in a corner, facing a fireplace that was still warm.

Old Vida looked up at Christine sitting opposite him and found that she was eating quietly. The Rosier family's table manners had not changed for decades. Her fair face was slightly reddened by the fire.

He seemed to be thinking of nothing.

At 8:15, Melvin walked into the floor where the Romanian Ministry of Magic Transportation Department was located, and walked into a brightly lit room with several other wizards heading to New York.

Seven or eight wizards sat down around a round table and placed their hands on the worn tablecloth, the patches of which were unstitched and a little rough.

They quietly looked at the wizards around them. Although these were door keys obtained through formal channels and everyone had undergone security checks, no one spoke to them casually.

After a few minutes, several wizards suddenly realized something and looked down at the tablecloth-shaped door key.

The worn patches trembled slightly, and around the round table, the space seemed to have substance, overlapping like paper, many terrains emerged, and the bodies of the wizard passengers quickly became transparent.

Melvin only felt a strong pulling force on his abdomen, and a sense of weightlessness enveloped him, and his whole body instantly crossed the layers of space.

Their feet stomped heavily on the ground, and when they came to their senses, they were already in another room. The tablecloth was still the same, but the table and chairs were gone. A familiar yet unfamiliar voice came from the ceiling loudspeaker:

"Dear passengers, the portkey from Bucharest to New York has arrived. Please proceed to immigration to register your wand as soon as possible..."

A female voice, a little softer than that in the British Ministry of Magic, echoed in the small room, but no one left immediately. Most wizards chose to simply tidy up their hairstyle and clothing.

After crossing nearly five thousand miles in an instant, an elderly wizard's hair was almost blown bald.

Walking out of the room, there was a street sign with the word Woolworth on it on the wall.

Melvin stood at the side of the corridor, watching the staff and wizards coming and going, and the messy and hurried footsteps revealed a sense of familiarity. Compared with the classical style decoration of the British Ministry of Magic, the modern building office was indeed more pleasing to the eye.

As expected, after returning to the building after a year, the deputy director of the Auror Office quickly received the news and rushed over to check it out in person.

"Mr. Graves, long time no see. Thank you very much for forwarding my letter."

"..." Graves remained silent, silently checking and verifying the information.

"The wand is registered, and the suitcase has a formal permit issued by the Ministry of Magic. Don't worry, Mr. Graves. You know me well. I will never violate the wizarding laws of any country within its borders."

"..."

"What a shame!" Melvin looked at the middle-aged Auror in front of him, who was very patient in cooperating with the inspection and even had the leisure to glance at his name badge. "A dedicated Auror like you is being held back by the outdated and rigid system of the Magical Congress, and you haven't received any promotion or commendation yet."

Mr. Graves's position was still Deputy Director, the same as it had been a year ago.

For a senior Auror who is nearly fifty years old, has made significant contributions, and has no obvious major mistakes during his tenure, this promotion speed is obviously abnormal.

Graves also knew that this was not normal, but who made his last name Graves? Who made him sue a stage special effects designer and lose the case? Who made that incident known to the whole country?

Oh, this is the guy!

Graves, with a sullen face, remained silent, checking Melvin's identity documents and the permission documents for the Traceless Extension Spell several times, trying to find evidence to put him in jail.

But unfortunately, Melvin knew the laws of the United States Ministry of Magic better than he did.

"Mr. Graves, may I ask, has the Magic Congress had any cases involving the Purgers in the past two years?"

The Deputy Auror Director didn't even raise his head. "What era do you think we are in now? Those bounty hunters who hunted wizards and sold them to the Puritans were wiped out by the twelve Aurors as early as the founding of the Magic Congress!"

"As you said, the Purgers are bounty criminals, greedy villains chasing gold. How can we possibly wipe out such people?"

"What do you mean?"

Graves stopped checking the documents and stared at him warily. "Did you receive any secret information about the Purgers? From where? London, England, or Romania? No, it's Budapest, right?!"

As a senior Auror from an Auror family, Graves has a very keen sense of smell in this area.

The Purgers of the New World era did whatever it took to get gold. They captured wizard criminals who had fled to the United States in exchange for bounties, and sold wizards to Puritans who hunted witches. After the establishment of the Magical Congress of the United States of America, many criminals did escape justice.

Some of them married and had children, hiding in the country, secretly hating the Magic Congress;

Some of them fled to other countries and continued to engage in dark wizard activities, becoming notorious.

"..."

As soon as Melvin heard it, he knew that they had not received the news yet. After all, Romania was unable to confirm the identity of the mastermind behind the scenes, so they would probably hand the file over to the International Confederation of Wizards.

He looked thoughtfully at the anxious middle-aged director and chuckled softly, "I don't know the exact information, but I can give you some clues. There's been a serious dragon egg theft in Romania recently. It's said to be related to the Purgers and the New Salem Charity Association."

"Second Salem!"

Graves's expression grew serious.

This was an old friend of the Graves family, Salem, and even the Magical Congress of the United States of America. Unlike the loose-knit Purgers, this was a group of organized and disciplined No-Maj fanatics who had been obsessed with exposing and eliminating wizards since the late 17th century.

Seventy years ago, if it weren't for Newt Scamander and his dangerous animals, MACUSA would have been nearly exposed.

"Are you sure the theft is related to them?"