Chapter 65: Dumbledore, Law-Abiding Citizen

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"Albus Dumbledore, Professor Dumbledore, you know, I've always trusted you—completely."

In Dumbledore's office, the current Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, stood in front of Dumbledore's desk, incessantly fidgeting with his round-brimmed hat. The scene resembled a primary school student called to the headmaster's office.

However, Fudge had two individuals standing beside him. One was tall and strong, with short gray-white hair, looking serious. He was one of Fudge's bodyguards, a Ministry elite, Rodolphus Lestrange. When he graduated from Hogwarts, he achieved outstanding results in all N.E.W.Ts exams. If Lestrange was the epitome of talent, the other person Fudge brought along was harder to describe.

She was short and plump, with short curly mouse-brown hair adorned with a large, intimidating pink bow. To make matters worse, this middle-aged lady was dressed in an all-pink ensemble, a fashion choice that would have been too youthful even for someone twenty years younger. Her rough skin, heavy eye bags, and a large mouth resembling a toad's made her look like a three-dimensional Disney character on the run—a frog princess.

She was Fudge's confidante, Dolores Umbridge, the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic. A woman whose mere presence made Professor McGonagall physically uncomfortable.

Dumbledore wasn't alone either. As the deputy headmistress of the school, Professor McGonagall had the obligation to be present during the visit of the Minister of Magic. Of course, her presence made the atmosphere less like a leadership lecture and more like a negotiation. Otherwise, it would have been a classic scene: "Us Three."

Umbridge took over Fudge's monologue, coughing lightly to clear her throat. Fudge halted his rambling, smiling as he turned his attention to Umbridge.

"The Ministry has always tried to provide as much assistance as possible to Hogwarts. However, the Ministry must also serve the broader magical community in Britain. Recently, we received information that Hogwarts Castle harbors a three-headed dog and a giant creature, posing a serious threat to the health and safety of hundreds of students. Of course, we consider such claims absurd and dishonorable slander—"

"Why bother coming here, then?" Professor McGonagall couldn't help but interject.

"Oh?" Umbridge reacted as if she had heard some incredible rumor, showing a shocked expression. "Procedure, Milerva, procedure! We are a responsible organization. The Minister and numerous Ministry officials work day and night for the basic interests of the wizarding community—so if someone suggests such a thing, we need to respond. Milerva, you don't need to worry. It's just a 'routine inspection.'"

"So, you plan to search Hogwarts?" Professor McGonagall deciphered the implied meaning.

"Principally, yes. Your reaction puzzles me a bit," Umbridge said with a sickly sweet smile. "We have a saying: If people don't know what you're doing, they won't know what you've done wrong. Honestly, the Ministry has never known what Hogwarts is up to..."

Then, without paying attention to McGonagall's unimpressed expression, Umbridge turned to Fudge.

"I've heard that Professor Dumbledore told the students at the beginning of the school year, 'Anyone who doesn't want to encounter accidents and die painfully, please refrain from entering the right side of the fourth-floor corridor.' I don't quite understand the meaning of that statement, but since it's like this, could we conveniently take a look? With a wizard like you around, we shouldn't encounter any accidents, right?"

In her view, the suspicion on the fourth-floor corridor was significant. If a three-headed dog were hidden there, everything would make sense. Why would people who entered face accidents and painful deaths? Clearly, it was because they would be eaten by the three-headed dog!

Umbridge suddenly became energetic. She swiftly moved her short, chubby legs, running all the way to the fourth floor. As a bureaucrat accustomed to office work, running to the fourth floor was quite a challenge for her. When they reached the fourth floor, everyone's breath was somewhat disturbed.

Dumbledore calmly opened the wooden door for Fudge, revealing a dilapidated classroom. Even the ceiling seemed somewhat decayed. Forget about a three-headed dog; there wasn't even dog poop.

"This corridor has been neglected for years and needs renovation. However, due to financial constraints, the school has postponed it," Dumbledore explained slowly, as if chatting. "For safety reasons, I sealed off this corridor."

Fudge's face reddened. In the past two years, the Ministry's funding to Hogwarts had been decreasing year by year. Even the financial aid to orphans and Muggle-born students had been cut...

Lestrange curiously looked at the numerous bottles of brandy and dead chickens hanging from the ceiling in the kitchen. "Why are there so many brandy bottles and dead chickens?" he asked.

Hagrid, with his honest smile, explained, "I heard that chicken blood brandy is good for the body, so I made some."

Lestrange looked at Hagrid's robust figure and couldn't help but feel speechless: Do you still need to improve your body?

But then he realized something and approached, coughing a few times. "Um, when you say 'good for the body,' do you mean that kind of 'good'?"

Hagrid was puzzled, but he nodded.

Lestrange thought for a moment, took out his wand, and cast a spell. "Reparo!"

The result was no response, and a brick even fell off.

An awkward atmosphere filled the air.

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(End of this chapter)