A certain Hogwarts professor of runes

Chapter 270 Speech (Two chapters combined)

Walsh Sidrick led the way, hurrying forward. "We need to hurry, Minister Fudge is getting impatient."

Felix said, "I didn't know I'd have to see him again."

"It was a last-minute decision. Minister Fouché has a very busy schedule every day, and he wouldn't normally pay attention to these kinds of things, but—we've arrived."

He pushed open a heavy door, and a simple and solemn reception room appeared before him.

The furnishings in the reception room were very similar to those in Reception Room No. 3, which Felix had visited before. There were a dozen rows of shiny black chairs, and a small podium at the front of the reception room.

"This way—" Felix was led down from the curtain beside the podium, through an inconspicuous little door, into a more private room.

Fudge was engrossed in reading a newspaper, a thick stack of clippings beside him. Hearing the sound, he looked up, smiling warmly. "Felix Heap, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Minister Fookie, this isn't the first time we've met. What brings you here?"

"Ah, of course... When Dorothea wrote to me, I realized that I had overlooked an outstanding person—" He patted his protruding belly, the gleaming bronze buttons struggling to keep his dark red vest from popping open, "Ancient runes professor, Muggle research expert, and also a hidden master of memory damage treatment—you see, I'm starting to envy you."

Felix understood; it seemed the news of his healing of the Longbottoms had finally reached the minister's ears, and it was Dorothea Boham who had told him.

"...Old Bernie in the Wizengamot office has already submitted the proposal, and now we're just waiting for the verification results from St. Mungo's. If there are no problems, a second-class medal—that's the bare minimum; a first-class medal isn't out of the question either."

"That sounds good," Felix said slowly.

"I need to persuade some people, use some connections..." Fudge said, his chubby fingers crossed. "I like to exchange."

"For example?" Felix asked curiously, wanting to know what Fudge was planning.

"Dolores is in some trouble, and I wanted her to take over the position of deputy minister, but she's not qualified enough right now. She needs an undeniable achievement, like—catching Sirius Black, of course, under my leadership," Fudge said, fiddling with the quill pen in his hand.

Felix patiently asked, "I can't help you catch him. The Ministry of Magic has plenty of Aurors and strikers."

"Actually, what I mean is—if you can convince Dumbledore to let Dolores bring some people to Hogwarts… believe me, I'm doing this for the students' own good. Black is an extremely vicious criminal; he's capable of anything," Fudge said indignantly.

Felix gave him a deep look. "I'll consider it, Minister Fudge." He checked the time. "The speech is about to begin, and I need a few minutes to prepare."

Fudge clearly hadn't expected him to refuse so decisively. He paused for a moment, then said, "I'll wait for your reply. I'll have Dolores contact you."

"I might not have time anytime soon—" Felix said, "Perhaps I can arrange an appointment with Dumbledore for you?"

"Or—actually—" Fudge stammered, his voice slightly embarrassed, "that's not necessary... Well, I'll talk to Dumbledore."

Felix came out of the room and shook his head. He was unsure whether Fudge had simply overheard the news of his arrival by chance and was just trying it out, or if it was part of a pre-planned scheme. However, judging from the emotions he sensed through Legilimency, Fudge wasn't going to give up so easily.

He couldn't help but think: This minister really trusts Dolores Umbridge; doesn't he know that woman is quite unpopular? As Felix stood on the small platform in Meeting Room Three, looking down at the sea of ​​people below, a thought suddenly occurred to him:

Perhaps it was precisely because of Umbridge's terrible interpersonal relationships that she was favored by Fudge. At least to outsiders, it wouldn't be surprising if she did something terrible; the blame would never fall on Fudge.

He recalled the relationship between ancient emperors and sycophants, and how many of the things the sycophants did were actually at the behest of the emperor himself?

Felix looked over the crowd and began his speech.

"Some of you may know me or have heard my name, but many others don't know what I do. So far, I've written three books about Muggles, so I can barely be considered an expert in this field." He raised his wand, making his name appear in the air.

Felix quickly skipped over his self-introduction and got to today's topic.

"I assume you're here today purely out of interest, or because you're willing to embrace some new perspectives for work purposes..."

"Judging from the audience list, you are probably the group most closely connected with ordinary people. In a way, I am in line with you; I am the wizard's eyes looking at the outside world."

"But how many people realize this?"

A slight commotion arose in the crowd, while Newt Scamander, in the corner, peered at the crack in the wall, his ears perked up.

A tall, well-proportioned wizard with a sparse mustache said in a harsh, indifferent tone, "Why should we concern ourselves with lower beings?"

"What is your name, wizard?" Felix asked calmly.

“You can call me McNeil,” he grinned. “Mr. Hyp, do you think there’s anything wrong with what I said?” Chesterton Avery, who was next to him, grabbed his arm, but he still looked at Felix.

“Inferior beings…” Felix chewed on the word. “You have to give me a concrete reason, Mr. McNeil. You’ve just stated your feelings—you’ve only let us know that you really, really hate Muggles, but that’s never a reason.”

McNeil's expression changed, and he said harshly, "Ignorance, stupidity, weakness, chaos... Do I need to say more?"

"Ha," Felix looked at the others, "Anyone else share the same opinion? Let me see."

No one expressed support; on the contrary, some people, mostly half-blood wizards and Muggle-born wizards, were very dissatisfied with McNeil's remarks.

Felix waited quietly for a few seconds, giving everyone time to think. The air was noisy, but no one could hear a single word, as if listening to a tape with the sound erased.

Felix began, "I will answer your question at the end of my speech, Mr. McNeil."

He waved his wand, scattering a shimmering silver light that quickly filled the entire No. 3 drawing room like smoke. He flicked his finger, and the smoke vanished instantly.

Using the blank fragments of memory, Felix is ​​now able to temporarily bring the Mind House into reality.

"Today I want to introduce some simple things: the clothing, food, shelter, and transportation of people who don't use magic..."

"The Act of Secrecy, signed in 1682, is a very interesting point in time. Since then, our understanding of the outside world seems to have stagnated forever, and even with fresh blood joining the wizarding community every year, this situation hasn't changed much," Felix said with a sense of感慨 (gan3kai3, a feeling of deep emotion or reflection).

"Getting back to the main point, medieval clothing was rather monotonous in color and material, mainly black, white, gray, and brown; the materials were primarily linen, wool, and leather; the style was somewhat similar to close-fitting wizard robes, and some nobles or upper-class people would also wear a cloak. Gentlemen, does this sound familiar?"

In the reception room, illusory figures materialized from the air. Their faces were blurry, but their clothes were remarkably clear. A wizard couldn't resist reaching out to touch them, but his fingers passed right through the phantoms.

"In the centuries that followed, more elements were added: cloaks, embroidery, patchwork..." Felix said, as corresponding clothing designs rapidly materialized in the air. The intricate and exquisite garments drew the attention of many witches.

"From the fourteenth to the seventeenth century, people were obsessed with curves to an almost morbid degree, with crinolines, corsets, and shoes that were several inches high—" Felix waved his wand, making corresponding images appear one by one, "and then came ribbons, lace collars, long-breasted coats, feathered hats, puffy skirts…"

"We also have to mention some small decorations, such as bows, flower decorations, lace, and so on."

The lively discussion among the seated passengers continued unabated.

"In the 18th and 19th centuries, people generally admired nature and simplicity, and avoided embellishment," Felix said, while demonstrating clothing from that period. A large number of garments emerged that closely resembled modern aesthetics, including petticoats, shawls, suits, and tailcoats…

"As for what comes next, there are too many to list. You can see for yourselves." Felix curled the corner of his mouth and pushed his hand. Hundreds and thousands of different clothes appeared and flew towards the wizards below the stage. Many people were shocked and instinctively leaned back. It wasn't until the images of these clothes passed through the reception room that they realized that it was all an illusion.

"It's so realistic," someone exclaimed.

Felix continued, "I often see this phenomenon in the newspapers: whenever a Muggle expert introduces something new and interesting, there are always some particularly stubborn people who refuse to acknowledge it, believing it to be fabricated. Do any of the people here think what I just presented is fabricated?"

No one doubted it; everyone can understand clothes at a glance. Even the most ignorant person wouldn't believe that Felix had fabricated thousands of different outfits.

"Starting with the simplest clothes, we can draw many interesting conclusions. For example, they are constantly evolving and creating new things..." Felix remarked lightly, not going into detail. He then changed the subject, posing a question: "Has anyone wondered how these clothes are made?"

"Hand-sewn?" someone joked. "You couldn't possibly use magic, could you?"

But no one laughed.

Besides Felix, he laughed and said, "My new book, *The Magic of the Muggle World*, explains the answer to this question in more detail. Those interested can take a look. If I were to explain it, it would probably take three days and three nights. Let's continue—"

His speech quickened subtly: "Developments in food—" He waved his wand, and a multitude of dishes from different periods appeared, the more exquisite and tempting they were the closest to the present time.

"Residential"—various styles of architecture and home furnishings appeared one after another;

"And transportation—" One after another, vehicles in the sky, on the sea, and on land appeared.

With the preceding content as a foundation, no one questioned the authenticity of the following three aspects, but most people were bewildered because they received too much information at once.

After a few minutes, everyone gradually came to their senses.

Felix then posed another question, "Why am I saying all this, gentlemen?"

His gaze sharpened, fixed on everyone present, who instinctively looked at Felix, searching for an answer.

"Change, that's the only thing I want to tell you."

His gaze fell on McNeil, the wizard with a sparse mustache, who seemed lost in thought. Felix said to him, "As for the question you just raised, Mr. McNeil, why do we need to look at the outside world?"

He walked over step by step and stood before the male wizard—

"Because the world never stands still because of any one person or group. If you don't perceive this change, words like 'ignorance,' 'lack of knowledge,' 'powerlessness,' and 'chaos' can perfectly describe you as well. Do you understand now, Mr. McNeil?"

McNeil's face flushed red, and for a moment his expression turned fierce. He suddenly pulled out his wand and tried to press it against Felix's neck.

"McNeil, stop!" Walsh Cedric shouted from several people away. He couldn't allow a fight to break out during the lecture, especially if the young professor he had invited got injured; it would be a scandal for the Ministry of Magic.

But McNeil's eyes were already bloodshot, and sparks were flashing from the tip of his wand. What angered him most was the mocking smile on the face of the person opposite him.

He even slowly reached out his hand, as if trying to snatch my wand? Damn it, what does he think he's doing, putting on a show? When I followed the Dark Lord, he was probably nowhere in the world.

McNeil decided to teach this overly ambitious Muggle research expert a lesson. There were many people here who couldn't use the Unforgivable Curse or the Dark Magic, so how about an Explosion Curse?

He instinctively licked his lips, only to find that he couldn't move.

McNeil watched as the man opposite him, named Felix Heap, effortlessly withdrew his wand, and heard him say in a gentle voice, "You see, even your most persuasive power is worthless before some people. Does that mean—according to your logic—I can despise you? Or manipulate you at will?"

McNeil felt a chill run through him, as if he had fallen into an ice cave, and his whole body trembled uncontrollably—he had experienced a similar feeling decades ago from the Dark Lord.

Walsh Sidderick had to step forward and whisper, "Mr. Hyp, you can't..."

Felix smiled at him. "Mr. Sidrick, this is also part of the speech, an example I prepared carefully. You see, I didn't even take out my wand—Mr. McNeil is playing along with me."

McNeil suddenly found himself able to move again. Felix handed the wand back to him, saying, "Take your wand; it's your greatest pride."

McNeil stood there, stunned. If the wand represents pride, then what is the person who took it away?

Felix returned to the small podium, ready to conclude his speech for the day.

"As I said, time keeps moving forward, and change follows closely behind; that's the general trend. Like waves crashing in, the best way to deal with it is to ride the waves."

A young wizard raised his hand, as if giving a lecture. "But, Mr. Hyp, what should we do?"

Felix felt a surge of intense emotion; he wanted to speak his mind, to give a long, detailed explanation, and even to instill his ideas directly into their minds. But he did nothing. He simply said calmly, "This is perhaps an issue that our generation needs to explore together."

(End of this chapter)