Hogwarts, a Scholar Becomes a God

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If one were to rank the most hated characters in the Harry Potter books, Umbridge would have made it to the top three and would be a serious contender for the number one spot.

Countless moviegoers hated such an old woman who was selfish, rude to her superiors, harsh to her subordinates, and tickled her teeth.

But Clark is not the impulsive Harry, he has passed the stage of talking and doing things based on his own likes and dislikes.

As a smart person, even when facing Umbridge's outstretched hand, Clark can still hold it with a smile.

"Ah, Mr. Clark Prewett, the famous rising star of the British wizarding world, of course I have heard of that."

"Dolores Jane Umbridge is the Senior Deputy Minister of Magic and my right-hand man." Fudge introduced them both.

"Ah, Minister, you're so flattering on me, I've just done a little more work. Clark, you can call me Dolores." Umbridge shook his palm vigorously.

"Minister, who is this?" Clark smiled, then looked at another burly witch, and at the same time pulled his hand back from Umbridge.

"This is Amelia Susan Burns, Director of Legal Enforcement at the Ministry of Magic," Fudge introduced to him.

The chief Amelia's voice was very loud, "Hello, Mr. Prewett, I heard your name from Elijah."

Elijah Yaxley was a representative of the Hogwarts school board and a high-ranking official at the Ministry of Magic, with whom Clark had dealt several times before.

"Haha, that's right, on the way here, Mr. Minister also specifically mentioned you to me. He said that you are fair and objective in your work, and you have a hundred square hearts for you."

Facing Clark's compliment, Director Amelia sneered, "You are really clever."

After saying that, she looked at Fudge again, "Minister, the first trial of Sirius Blake and Peter Pettigrew has been completed, and we have fully grasped some key evidence, so I suggest that we can do it now. The two of them were interrogated on the spot."

"That's fine, of course, you're a professional at this point." Fudge nodded happily. "Is there anything I need to do?"

"There are indeed a few things that need your help, Minister." Amelia ordered resolutely.

"The interrogation time is tentatively set in an hour and a half, so Wizengamore needs you to inform me. Besides, I heard that Headmaster Dumbledore will also attend..."

She saw Fudge nodded, so she said, "Then please let him know too, and we will meet together in the tenth courtroom."

"Okay, the tenth courtroom...the one on the tenth floor, isn't it? Then...it's an hour and a half later...well...that's eight o'clock in the evening."

Fudge confirmed to Amelia again.

"Then... Clark, I'm so sorry, I..."

"Minister, go ahead and do your work first, don't worry, I've been to the Ministry of Magic several times before, and you're still worried that I won't get lost." Clark joked.

Umbridge also interjected at this time, "That's right, Minister, isn't it still me? Don't worry, I'll take care of Clark."

Hearing her strange voice, Clark couldn't help shivering and said quickly.

"No! No! No!" Clark waved his hand quickly, "You are the deputy minister, how can I trouble you, I think so, it happens that I know Roger McMillan, why don't he take me here in magic The department has turned around."

Umbridge said it nicely, but only politely, and did it for Fudge.

So when Clark said this, she didn't insist any longer.

"See you later, Mr. Clark."

Clark followed Roger out of the Legal Enforcement Division and down the corridor, soon to a smaller

There were at least twenty lifts there, blocked by elaborate golden fence gates.

With the sound of ding ding ding and kara kara, an elevator descended in front of them.

The golden fence door slid open gently, because it was past get off work hours, and it was empty and no one was there.

"It's not very common, it's usually crowded, like a can of sardines." Roger McMillan joked and walked into the elevator with Clark.

"That's really hard for you. If it weren't for Sirius, I'm afraid Mr. McMillan would have arrived home by now." Clark's attitude was very gentle.

"Yes, yes," Roger McMillan nodded again and again, "it's really annoying to have to work overtime."

The fence door closed with a clatter, the elevator began to descend slowly, the chain rattled, and an indifferent woman's voice sounded from the elevator.

"The third floor, the Division of Magical Accidents and Disasters, includes the Reversal of Occasional Magical Events Team, the Memory Cancellation Command, and the Muggle Issues Adjustment Committee."

The elevator door opened, and Clark caught a glimpse of a disorganized corridor outside, with posters of various Muggle newspapers and fashion magazines littering the walls.

A wizard in plaid pajamas was waiting at the door of the elevator with a tired face. When he saw the door opened, he walked in immediately.

"Hey, Eric, off work or on a mission?" Roger McMillan greeted the uninspired wizard.

"Going on a mission, some people said they saw a few mermaids in Scarborough (a traditional seaside resort in the north of England)." The wizard said weakly, "To be honest, this should be a matter of the Department of Management and Control of Magical Creatures, those seafood How can it be human?"

"Who is he?" the complaining wizard looked at Clark curiously.

Roger McMillan quickly introduced, "This is Mr. Prewett, Clark Prewett, and I'll show him the Ministry of Magic."

"Mr. Prewett, this is Eric, an amnesiac."

The two nodded to each other.

"The fourth floor, the Division of Fantastic Creatures Management and Control, contains the Beast, Alien and Ghost Office, the Goblin Liaison Office and the Pest Advisory Office."

The elevator door was opened again, and a witch was standing in front of the door, reading a long piece of parchment that was dragged to the ground, and did not seem to mean to come in.

Clark and the others saw that she was reading so seriously, so naturally it was not easy to remind her. They watched the elevator door close again, and then continued to descend.

"The fifth floor, the International Magical Cooperation Department, includes the International Magical Trade Standards Association, the International Magical Law Office, and the British Seat of the International Magician Federation."

The door opened, and there was no one outside, but a few paper planes whizzed into the elevator.

Clark looked up as they flew slowly around the top of his head, they were a light purple color with the "Ministry of Magic" stamp on the sides of the wings.

"That's a note to pass messages between departments," Roger McMillan whispered to him. "The department used to use owls, but the mess was unbelievable, and the desk was full of feces..."

"The sixth floor, the Division of Magical Transportation, contains the Floo Network Authority, the Broom Management Control Bureau, the Portkey Office, and the Apparition Test Center."

Two notes flew out, but a few more followed a wizard with a broomstick who whizzed in and flew around the lamp above them, making the light flicker.

"The seventh floor, Division of Magic and Sports, contains the headquarters of the British and Irish Quidditch League, the Official Gobstone Club and the Office of the Patents of Funny Products."

This time, more wizards who haven't finished get off work squeezed into the elevator, and Clark had to lean back, pressing his back against the wall behind him.

"Eighth floor, the atrium is here. Passengers who want to leave can choose to use the Floo network here. The Ministry of Magic wishes you a good day."

At this level, everyone went out, and Clark and the others were no exception.

When they came out and turned right, they were standing at the end of a magnificent hall.

On the ground, is a polished black marble floor.

In the sky, the peacock blue ceiling is inlaid with glittering golden symbols, constantly moving and changing, like a huge starry sky.

Just by looking at it, a mysterious and wonderful feeling comes to my face.

The walls on the left and right sides of the hall are lined with dark, oily dark wood planks, and many gilded fireplaces are embedded in the wood planks.

Every few seconds, with a soft pop, a wizard pops out of one of the fireplaces on the left.

In front of the fireplace on the right, the wizards who had just sat on the same elevator with Clark and the others were lining up to leave.

In the center of the foyer is a fountain more than three meters high.

In the circular pool, the pure gold statue erected was larger than the real person. A noble wizard stood on the white stone platform, suspended at the highest point, holding his wand high, pointing straight to the sky.

Opposite him are a beautiful witch, a centaur, a goblin and a house-elf.

Among them, centaurs, goblins, and house-elves all looked up at the wizard with infinite admiration.

Jets of shining water shot from the tip of the wizard's wand, from the centaur's arrow, from the tip of the goblin's hat, from the house-elf's ears.

It fell into the pool below, making the sound of dingdong dingdong and clattering.

This is the more famous landmark of the Ministry of Magic - the Magic Brothers Fountain.

Of course, it is impossible for centaurs and goblins to worship a human wizard with such a respectful attitude in real life. This group of statues is just a utopian world imagined by wizards.

Around the fountain, many wizards who had just got off work were using Apparition in a specific area, making a pop and pop of air explosions.

Not far from the golden gate on the other side of the foyer, more witches and wizards walked towards this side with chaotic footsteps.

"This way," Roger McMillan whispered.

They walked against the crowd, huddled among the Ministry of Magic staff.

Some of these people were holding crumbling piles of parchment in their arms, others carrying tattered briefcases, and others reading the Daily Prophet as they walked.

As he passed the fountain, Clark saw a lot of gleaming silver siko and copper nut at the bottom of the pool, next to a small smudged sign that read: All proceeds from the Magic Brothers Fountain go to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Injuries and Injuries.

The two made their way through the stream of people with difficulty and walked to a table to the left of the golden gate.

Beneath a sign that read "Safety Check" sat a wizard in a perforated turquoise robe and a shaved beard.

Seeing someone approaching, he raised his head and put down the Daily Prophet in his hand.

"I brought a guest." Roger McMillan said, pointing to Clark, and said to him again, "Excuse me, Mr. Prewett, this is a routine, everyone who comes..."

"It's okay, I've been here before, I know the rules." Clark waved his hand.

"Come this way," said the wizard in a listless tone.

Clark took the initiative to approach him, and was swept up and down, back and forth, by a long, thin gold rod like the antenna of a car.

"Wand." The security wizard snorted at Clark, put down the golden thing, and stretched out his hand.

Clark handed over the wand, and the wizard threw it on a grotesque brass machine that looked like a one-disk scale.

The machine began to vibrate slightly, and then a narrow strip of parchment spit out quickly from a hole in the bottom of the machine.

The wizard tore the paper off and read the words on it, "Nine inches, beech wood, the core of the wand is a bird-snake nerve, and it took three years, right?"

"That's right." Clark nodded.

"I'll keep this," said the wizard, poking the parchment on a small brass nail. "Take this back."

He shoved the wand back into Clark's hand.

"Thank you." Roger McMillan said quickly.

The two left the security checkpoint, and UU Reading www.uukanshu.com turned in another direction and walked to the other side of the gate.

Clark asked curiously, "Where are we going?"

"There's still an hour before the trial begins, let's go get something to eat first."

When Roger McMillan said this, Clark's stomach groaned in unison.

Under his leadership, the two quickly came to a small cafeteria with a dozen round tables. There were quite a few witches and wizards eating in it, but there were not many types of food to choose from, such as fish and chips, Fast food such as pizza burgers, hot dogs and pasta.

"Some departments in the Ministry will work overtime until late. Originally, everyone usually brought their own meals, but after some bachelors responded to the Ministry, they finally built a small canteen like this, which is convenient for employees who work overtime at night."

Roger McMillan said, choosing a triple cheeseburger for dinner.

After hesitating for a long time, Clark finally observed the food ordered by others and chose the more traditional pasta with tomato sauce.

The food in the canteen of the Ministry of Magic was still quite fast. After Clark placed the order, a plate of spaghetti bolognese with an attractive color was brought to him shortly after.