Hogwarts Study Panel

Chapter 491, Section 489: Cornelius Fudge
"Can you teach me, Sheen—"

Harry said excitedly.

Before Sheen could answer, Mr. Stan came over humming a song.

This incident also interrupted their conversation.

He seemed to remember that Harry and Sheehan had both paid for the hot chocolate, so he carried the chocolate syrup through the narrow passage.

The unexpected happened at that moment.

The car suddenly jumped from Anglesey to Aberdeen, and Stan spilled chocolate all over Harry's pillow.

While Harry stared in disbelief, Sheehan was subconsciously directing the chocolate sauce he had spilled back into the cup.

"What exquisite staff-less spellcasting! Merlin—Mr. Grin, truly—"

Stan clapped and cheered in front of Harry.

"Hey--"

Harry was furious and wanted to say something.

"Navie, I'm sorry, I'll get you another one—"

Stan turned around, faced Harry for about a second, then turned back.

"How wonderful, Mr. Green!"

As Harry angrily sat down again, the wizards, dressed in dressing gowns and sandals, came down from the upper level one by one and left the car.

They all seemed eager to get off the bus as soon as possible.

In the end, only Harry and Sheehan remained on the bus.

"Can I go to London now?"

Harry asked.

"Okay, Neville, we'll talk about it later. Mr. Green, are you going?"

Stan, as if he couldn't see Harry, respectfully inquired about Sheen.

"Let's go to London together."

Harry said, as if resigned to his fate.

“That’s fantastic, Neville,”

Stan clapped his hands and said,

"Where in London are you going?"

That's when he asked about Harry.

Diagon Alley.

Harry said.

"Okay,"

Stan said,
"Hold on tight, let's go..."

Bang! They sped across Charing Cross Road like lightning.

Harry sat up and watched as the buildings and benches outside the window all pushed aside to make way for the Knight Bus.

The sky was starting to brighten.

Ern slammed on the brakes, and the Knight Bus stopped in front of a run-down little bar—the Leaky Cauldron, behind which lay the mysterious entrance to Diagon Alley.

"Thank you."

Harry said to Ernst. He jumped down the steps and helped Stan carry his trunk and Hedwig's birdcage onto the sidewalk.

"alright,"

Harry was the first to get out of the car and said,
"Bye now!"

But Stan ignored Harry.

He remained standing by the car door, staring wide-eyed at the dark entrance to the Leaky Cauldron.

"So you were here, Harry."

"A voice said. Before Harry could turn around, he felt a hand on his shoulder."

At the same time, Stan shouted:
"Oh my god! Ern, come quick! Come quick!"

Harry looked up at the owner of the hand on his shoulder, a man with a very strange appearance.

The stranger was short and stout, with messy gray hair and an anxious expression on his face.

His clothes were a strange hodgepodge:
He wore a pinstripe suit, a bright red tie, a long black cloak, and purple pointed boots. A dark green top hat was tucked under his arm.

Stan jumped onto the sidewalk and stood beside them.

"What do you call Nawi, Minister?"

He asked excitedly.

The short, chubby man wore a long striped cloak and looked cold and tired.

"Nawi?"

He frowned and said,

"This is Harry Potter."

"I knew it!"

This was the first time Stan had looked at Harry with such solemn eyes, but Harry was anything but happy.

What did Stan just call him?
minister?

Which minister?

Harry had a very bad feeling.

And Stan was still happily saying:
"Ern! Ern! Guess who Neville is? Ern! It's Harry Potter!"

Oh dear, big shots don't like to reveal their names—Justin is Mr. Green, and Neville is Harry Potter!

I knew it! I saw his scar!

"Yes,"

Fudge said impatiently,

“I’m glad the Knight Bus brought Harry, but now we need to get into the Leaky Cauldron…”

Fudge tightened his grip on Harry's shoulder.

"But what, Mr. Green?"

Fudge is always extremely sensitive to certain names.

“Mr. Green, look, it’s right here—”

As Stan was speaking, a dark-haired little wizard happened to walk out of the long staircase of the Knight Bus.

"It's you—Mr. Green—"

Harry felt the pressure on his shoulders loosen, and the "minister" in front of him spoke in the most glib and slick voice Harry had ever heard.

This was the first time Sheen had met Fudge.

This was also the first time Fudge met Sheehan.

Of course, the two had seen each other countless times in the newspapers, but this was the first time they had met face to face like this.

"Minister Fouché."

Sheen said slowly.

The short, chubby man in front of him narrowed his eyes as if he had heard some sweet words.

"Oh, yes, Minister, but being a minister isn't easy these days."

Fudge squinted, his face contorted into a pretzel shape.
"And you, Mr. Green, if it were you, would you want to be a minister?"

Fudge had imagined meeting Mr. Green a thousand times, but he never expected it to be while dealing with a fugitive.

Mr. Green, what an incredibly stupid way to address him!

To those old madmen of the alchemy world, he was Hermes returning in glory; but to Cornelius Fudge, he would only remember the news that he had personally fanned the flames to make it so widely known—

The greatest wizard of the future, surpassing Dumbledore.

It's truly exhilarating—Dumbledore has found an adversary, not a madman like the Mystic, but a legitimate wizard raised by both the McGonagall and Prince families.

Whether he likes it or not, he already has a group of staunch supporters in the British magical community.

In the past, there was only one resounding name in the British wizarding world: Dumbledore.

As for Fudge?

He knew perfectly well that his name would only be effective through Dumbledore.

But things are different now; Dumbledore has a rival.

His name will soon be useful.

“Mr. Green, let’s go together… To be honest, I’ve been looking forward to seeing you for a long time…”

As Fudge spoke, he casually pushed Harry into the bar.

Sheen followed silently behind, pondering that the minister in front of him seemed to be a little too enthusiastic.

As I walked through the back door of the bar, a hunchbacked figure emerged, carrying a lamp in his hand.

It was Tom, the thin, emaciated bar owner with no teeth.

"You've found him, Minister!"

Tom said,
What would you like to order? Beer? Brandy?

"Let's have a pot of tea."

Fudge said, squinting at Sheehan, but holding onto Harry tightly.

Behind Sheehan came loud scraping sounds and heavy breathing. Stan and Earn had reappeared, carrying Harry's trunk and Hedwig's birdcage, looking around excitedly.

"Why don't you tell us who you are, huh, Na'vi?"

Stan said to Harry with a grin, while Earn's owl-like face peeked out from Stan's shoulder with interest.

"Please bring me a private room, Tom."

Fudge said bluntly.

"Goodbye."

Harry now understands which minister it is.

He said sadly to Stan and Ern, just as Tom was leading Fudge toward the aisle next to the bar.

Goodbye, Neville!

Stan shouted.

Fudge pushed Harry along, following Tom's lantern through the narrow passage and into a small private room.

Tom snapped his fingers, flames shot up from the grate, and he bowed as he left the room.

"Sit down, Harry."

Fudge pointed to a chair by the fireplace. Harry sat down, and despite the warmth of the fire, he felt goosebumps rise on his arms.

"Please wait a moment, Mr. Green, I have some things to take care of, but I'll be right back."

Fudge turned his head slightly to look at Sheehan, then fixed his gaze on Harry.

Look at Fudge; he looks at Sheen with tolerance, but scrutinizes Harry.

Harry felt he was definitely doomed.

The fact that he was blamed for performing magic outside of school must have been attributed to him.

(End of this chapter)