Charles's eyes fell on the system panel. The handwriting of the Severus's Transfiguration potion had been completely covered by the luster of black iron. It had been promoted to the Black Iron level. This meant that he had finally officially gotten started in this magical ability. He also suddenly felt that his understanding of potions seemed to have risen to a completely different level. Although it was still far from the level that Snape had reached when he was in school, where he could easily change the production processes of various advanced potions, if he were given some basic potions now, he also had enough confidence to make improvements to the process based on the different nature of their magic.
This top-level potion skill not only improved his attainments in potion science, but Transfiguration also benefited greatly. After all, the foundation of this skill was Tolman Transfiguration. Severus's introduction to Transfiguration through potions naturally further promoted his Tolman Transfiguration. The silver luster on the words "Transfiguration" became increasingly brilliant.
And as Char was savoring this harvest, Snape was looking at the boil-curing potion made by him. It took a long time for him to recover from the shock. He had always recognized Char's efforts, but based on his judgment of his talent, it would have taken at least a semester of practice to master this potion-based transfiguration technique. Even until the end of his own life, it was very likely that even Char could not master this skill. But Snape had never thought that only one day had passed, and he had actually finished it. How had this little guy done it?
Under such shock and impact, Char's words just now couldn't help but linger in his mind. "Magic is subjective. As long as you believe it firmly enough, is any kind of miracle possible?" After a while, he finally came to his senses. The thick haze that had originally shrouded his heart had been diluted a lot without him noticing. It seemed like there were still a few glimmers of hope flickering.
But soon, looking at the potion made by Char, he still had a look of disgust on his face. "A potion like this makes you so happy? Then your standards for Potions are too low. Don't tell anyone that I taught you Potions, or I'll be embarrassed to see anyone."
Char didn't take his ridicule seriously. Instead, he felt relieved. That was just right. It always felt weird when Snape didn't spit venom. He nodded repeatedly, dealing with his ridicule and comments, then said, "Professor, leave the Potions classroom to me. You can go get busy."
But Snape waved his hand, which was uncharacteristic of him. "You don't have to clean up. Just follow me." When Char showed a puzzled expression, he took him to his office. Then, he took out the cupboard where he kept various potions and magical ingredients. He pulled out a bottle of orange potion and handed it to him. "Take it. There's no room in the cupboard."
He subconsciously took the potion, but immediately felt something unusual. He could feel it even through the bottle. There seemed to be arcs flashing in this potion. His hair stood on end at this. "This is?!"
When he was surprised, Snape spoke nonchalantly, as if he were explaining a trivial matter. "A potion made with a Thunderbird's eye as the main ingredient. It can make a person's magic power have the properties of lightning for a short period of time, greatly reducing the damage caused by lightning to the user. Humph, I originally wanted to concoct a potion that could actually transform a person into lightning, but I only managed to achieve this. It's a topic of no value to me. An imperfect work. It's annoying even to look at it. It doesn't deserve to be in my treasured cabinet. Take it away and dispose of it quickly."
Char fell silent. A Thunderbird's eye. This was an extremely rare material in the magical world. In the cabinet where Snape kept various materials, there was only one, and it had always been kept on the top shelf. Even the bottle containing it had to be wiped regularly to keep it spotless. And it had actually been used to prepare such a potion. Thinking of the various processes required to deal with a Thunderbird's eye, he felt even more complicated. Calculating the time, Snape had probably discovered that he was using the Room of Requirement to generate electricity and practice ancient weather magic. He must have been preparing this bottle of medicine already. Although he said it with disdain, this bottle of potion was obviously prepared to allow him to withstand lightning in nature. It went without saying how much time and energy it had taken.
After a moment of silence, he didn't refuse. This bottle of potion was indeed very useful to him now. He carefully put it in his arms. He said seriously, "Professor, I won't let you down."
Snape waved his hand impatiently, motioning for him to leave. After he turned and left, a smile slowly emerged on the corner of Snape's mouth. And Char, when walking up to the ground level from the underground classroom, found that the heavy rain from yesterday had stopped. The air was cool and fresh. The sun was shining brightly, shining on his body. The rain had stopped and the sky was clear. He breathed a sigh of relief. This bottle of Thunderbird potion that Snape had given him was indeed unexpected. But thinking of its effectiveness, a hint of heat also flashed across his eyes. "It seems we can start preparing for the Quintaped's blood."
In the blink of an eye, it was three days later. A dull, salty sea breeze blew across Sprout Island, but it made people feel even more stuffy. There were low clouds in the sky, as if something was brewing. The troll priest Sirius looked into the distance. A feeling told him that in a few days, an unprecedented storm would sweep across this sea area. When the time came, even a giant troll would have to stay dormant in its cave in the face of such natural power. Fortunately, Sprout Island was protected by protective magic. The crops on the island should not be severely damaged. "But before that, we must complete the tasks assigned by our king."
Immediately, his gaze turned to the highest cliff on the island. There, giant trolls were busy building a huge, pointed device on top. This was the task Char had given to the troll tribe when he had come to the island three days ago. Before the next violent storm arrived, he needed a device called a lightning rod. Sirius had no idea what this was, but as long as it was his order, he would complete it without hesitation. After all, it was Char who had led the troll tribe out of the dark Forbidden Forest and brought them to Sprout Island, allowing them to live and work here in peace and contentment, with enough food and clothing. Not to mention, his arrival three days ago had brought more than just this order. It had also brought Sirius something he had never expected. He carefully took out a notebook, gently stroking its pages. "Nicolas Flamel's notebooks—" he whispered, his voice trembling. Even in the Forbidden Forest, he had heard of his reputation. This was the pinnacle of alchemy, the only alchemist who had created the Philosopher's Stone. The value of such notes was beyond words. But Char had given such a precious notebook to him, a giant troll who was smelly, vulgar, and stupid in the eyes of ordinary people. This was important. He really felt that he was carrying a heavy responsibility.
"My king treats me this way. This matter must be done beautifully. Otherwise, how can we repay his kindness?" Taking a deep breath, he waved the "magic wand" in his hand, which was taller than a man. Ancient runes were chanted from his mouth. The ancient fire magic that had once burned Char horribly once again surged out from the tip of his staff. The blazing flames fell on the metal ores that the trolls had gathered from the island and the nearby beaches. In the blink of an eye, the ore was burned and melted. At the same time, he tapped the ground with his wand. An alchemy array then lit up, and the melted ore flowed into its patterns. With the light of alchemy, the originally rough and impure ore was immediately transformed into metal of extremely high purity. The giants loaded the unsolidified metal onto the cliff and poured it onto the tall, sharp building.
While Sirius was busy, a voice of appreciation came from behind. "Sirius, your alchemy skills are growing too fast." He heard the voice and quickly turned around. The figure that came into view was none other than Char. He watched the alchemy displayed by Sirius, his expression quite satisfied. The alchemical talent of this giant priest was really incredible. It seemed that the blessing of the Fire God's bloodline on alchemy was truly beyond the imagination of ordinary people. If things continued to develop in this way, Sirius might actually be able to inherit Nicolas Flamel's mantle. If this was really possible, the help it provided to him would be beyond imagination.
And Sirius, faced with his praise, had a face full of seriousness. "My king, my alchemy attainments are still far from enough. I will learn the contents of Nicolas Flamel's notes as quickly as possible and will never waste the opportunity my king has given me."
Char smiled and waved his hand. Originally, he had always wanted to correct the way Sirius and the trolls addressed him. Things like "my king" really sounded a bit weird. But Sirius insisted that the distinction of identity was necessary. The king was the king. To the king who had led the giant tribe into the future, he must not be disrespectful. After a few attempts, he had no choice but to give up. At this time, he asked about the progress of the lightning rod project. Sirius stated confidently, "My king, three days at most. We'll be able to finish the installation before the storm arrives. Only," there was worry in his eyes, "I'm afraid this storm will be much bigger than expected. Lightning and thunder... this kind of magic, even in the blood memories left by our ancestors, makes the gods tremble in fear. My king, do you really want to endure this?"
Char narrowed his eyes slightly. If it was before, he might not have been very sure in his heart, but now he had the bottle of Thunderbird potion that Snape had given him. Coupled with the diamond-level ability to regenerate severed limbs, his recovery ability had skyrocketed. As long as his brain and heart were not destroyed instantly, he would be able to recover quickly from his injuries in a short period of time. What's more, he had already experienced the electric current in the Room of Requirement before. There was already a natural will within his body that could drive thunder. It was somewhat resistant to lightning. Even facing the lightning in nature, he was also very confident. At least there was no danger to his life. Not to mention, this time, he had also prepared a "shield" for himself. It should be enough to weaken the power of lightning by another level. Thinking of this, the corners of his mouth curled up slightly. He seemed to be expecting something. "I don't know what's being prepared in the temple on Delos. Don't let me down too much."
At the same time, on the island of Delos, in the strange temple that he had once seen, a strange cursed magic was shrouded. Even more bizarre scenes emerged. A group of ferocious and bloodthirsty Quintapeds were gathered outside the temple. A strong look of fanaticism appeared on their heads. They seemed to be worshipping the temple. Even the temple door was now wide open. A figure in a black robe walked out from among them. The black robe seemed to have been worn for hundreds of years. The various protective magics that were once attached to it had dissipated. The originally valuable materials had become tattered. Even the badge worn on it, representing the honorary status of a master of transfiguration, had become dull. The figure was hunched, but when the Quintapeds saw him, their eyes became even more fanatical, seeming eager to try something. And then, a skinny finger covered with red hair stretched out from under the black robe. The finger pointed at three of the Quintapeds in succession. Those who were selected immediately showed ecstatic expressions. The next moment, they crawled in the square in front of the temple and lay down. The rest of the Quintapeds uttered vague sounds of praise, then rushed forward, eating up their three kind. During this strange and bloody ceremony, wave after wave of strange power surged out from them and flowed into the temple. In the deepest part, a hateful voice echoed.
"The cooldown time for the Ritual of Demeter... it's almost there. That little kid stole so much of my power last time. He must have tasted a lot of sweetness. I can sense that there's still a lot of Quintaped's blood out there. He must have saved it for the ritual. Just wait, blasphemer, there will be no good end. Those who possess the power of Demeter will eventually prostrate themselves before the temple gate. The Transfiguration masters who came to the island of Delos hundreds of years ago were no exception. That little wizard from the Weasley family is no exception. And you, the heir of Demeter, will be no exception. Quick, perform the ritual. You'll never imagine what kind of surprise I have prepared for you!"
In the small greenhouse of Hogwarts, Char had returned from Sprout Island. There were still two or three days until the next storm. The construction of the lightning rod also took time. With the troll priest Sirius there, he felt relieved. Now, his gaze fell on the small greenhouse. A look of satisfaction appeared on his face. Compared with before, it was undoubtedly much emptier now. After all, this period of time had passed, and he had not been idle either. All the plans that had been previously made were proceeding in an orderly manner. Just when his eyes fell on a certain spot, his brows couldn't help but furrow slightly. That was where he had stored the seeds of the guardian trees, especially the cracked seed. It was here that he had been soaking them in the holy tree potion.
Only now, the materials for the potion that he had on hand had been completely exhausted. The potion that had soaked the seed had become so thin that it was almost like clear water. The amount of sacred magic power was almost zero. And having lost the nourishment of the potion, obviously, the transformation speed of that seed was slowing down infinitely. If this continued, maybe the strange seed that he had spent so much effort to create by using the Patronus Charm countless times would be "stillborn" due to an insufficient supply of magic potion. His brow furrowed even more. He checked the mailbox again and found that there was still no reply from the Ministry of Magic. He took a deep breath. These few days had passed. No matter how inefficient the Ministry of Magic was, it was time to deal with it, right? Now there was not even a reply. This attitude was self-evident. They wanted to give him the cold shoulder. Maybe they just planned to drag it out like this. If he were a young wizard who had no experience in dealing with such things, maybe the Ministry would really let this matter go unresolved. But he was not a real eleven-year-old wizard.
After confirming that the Ministry of Magic was no longer planning to pay for this batch of potions, a hint of coldness flashed across his eyes. The experience of his previous life had already taught him a lesson. When your interests were harmed, you had to make a scene immediately. The more noisy and shameless you were, the more you could protect your own interests. And those who suffered the loss were often those who thought that things could be solved according to rules, procedures, contracts, and the like, and they just needed to wait patiently. The consequence of not making a fuss and doing one's duty quietly was that the interests that originally belonged to you were being eroded bit by bit. It was a bit ironic, but it was true. In his previous life, he had suffered such a loss. Not to mention that this time it involved his own planting. Without the slightest hesitation, he immediately went to Professor Sprout's office, sprinkled a handful of Floo powder in the fireplace, and then, in the blazing green flames, he felt dizzy.
The next moment, he appeared in a VIP reception room of the Ministry of Magic. After all, he had come through the passage leading to the Hufflepuff Head's office. For a passage of this level, the Ministry naturally could not place the entrance and exit in the general reception hall, but instead had to have a special room. There were even special people to entertain him. Just when he had recovered from the dizzying feeling, a crisp sound was heard. "Welcome, Honorable Sprout—Char? Why did you come through this entrance? Professor Sprout wasn't with you?"
After he heard this voice, he was also taken aback for a moment. He looked at the figure that appeared before him. Pink hair, pretty face—it was Tonks, whom he hadn't seen for a long time. A moment later, he asked in a rather strange tone, "Haven't you already been promoted to an Auror? Why aren't you out hunting down dark wizards instead of doing reception work here?"
Speaking of this, her face also showed a bit of gloom. Unlike the students at Hogwarts whose memories had been modified, and the general public in the wizarding world who were kept in the dark, as an Auror, she certainly knew the truth about the Forbidden Forest trial. "Who would have thought that the hero who had solved the missing persons case would be the murderer behind the scenes? It's ridiculous that we were still following Quirrell's advice. Now that I think about it, I was simply played around by that bastard. Since then, Minister Fudge has been furious with us, claiming that the Auror system has been rotten for too long and urgently needs a personnel reform to inject fresh blood and motivation. Until the reform is completed, we will have no choice but to rotate."
Hearing this, he showed a strange look. It was obvious. Fudge was about to take action against the Auror office. And the goal, of course, was not to discipline rookie Aurors like Tonks. Fudge's target was probably Scrimgeour, the head of the Auror Office. In the original book, this was a very tough and capable wizard. After Fudge had abdicated, Scrimgeour had taken over as Minister for Magic. In a sense, this also proved that Scrimgeour's reputation and ability were quite good. Being seen as a threat by Fudge, it was normal for him to take this opportunity to give him a warning and place more of his own people in the Auror system.
But this also made him feel a little emotional. Fudge, the Minister of Magic, really put all his skills into political struggles. He should have been well aware of what had happened at Hogwarts. He should have even been informed of Voldemort's possession of Quirrell. But it was obvious that he didn't believe that at all. In other words, he chose not to believe it, to turn a blind eye to it, and pretend that it had never happened. After all, Voldemort had been defeated again, and he might not come back for ten or twenty years. Without him, the wizarding world would be peaceful and stable, which was perfect for Fudge to make a difference. But what if the news that Voldemort was still alive was made public? There was no doubt that the wizarding world would be in a state of panic. Compared to Fudge, a minister who had risen through the bureaucracy, there was a high probability that the public would call for an official from the Auror system to serve as minister. This was the only way to give them a sense of security. Then the trouble Fudge would face would be huge. The current crackdown on Aurors was probably due to this reason.
His mind was filled with more and more emotions. In the original novel, Fudge's actions were undoubtedly those of a clown. But in fact, he had been able to sit in the position of Minister of Magic among a group of cunning bureaucrats. Were there any real idiots? In the original work, when the Savior had lived at Hogwarts, Fudge's efforts to consolidate power and suppress dissidents in the Ministry must have never stopped. This was the only way he could have allowed Dementors into Hogwarts in his third year, which was tantamount to a provocation to Dumbledore. What's more, at the time when Voldemort had returned, he had been able to rival the prestige of Dumbledore and the savior Harry Potter, forcefully suppressing this matter and instead portraying Dumbledore as an ambitious man. This kind of political manipulation was indeed beyond the reach of ordinary people.
But after a moment of emotion, he no longer paid attention to these things. Fudge liked to suppress dissidents, so he suppressed them. If he loved to fight for power, then he fought for power. Even if he shat on Dumbledore's neck, for him, it was just a fun event and had nothing to do with him. But Fudge should never have done that. He shouldn't have promised him resources but delayed their delivery. It had delayed his planting of trees. Then it became very important. Thoughts flashed through his mind. Immediately, he came back to his senses.
Tonks asked him curiously, "Char, why are you here at the Ministry of Magic? And you came through the passage from Hogwarts. Isn't it summer vacation now?"
Faced with her question, he shook his head. "Is Minister Fudge here? Please inform him for me. I have something important to discuss with him."
She was stunned for a moment, then nodded without asking why. "Wait here for a moment. I'll inform him." She immediately left the reception room in a hurry. But after a while, she came back with her face turning pale and blue. She looked a little dazed. Fudge's harsh rebuke still echoed in her mind. "I asked you to go to the reception room, not to be a mouthpiece. Don't you know what it means to receive those who might cause trouble? It seems that there are still many gaps in Auror training. When Aurors enforce the law, do they always resort to violence? Don't they know how to solve problems with methods other than wands? Oh, how on earth does Director Scrimgeour train you Aurors? You figure out how to deal with this yourself. I'm very busy every day. If someone comes, I have to go and receive them. Then I really won't have anything to do every day!"
Looking at Char who was still waiting here, a look of guilt crossed her face. It was just a small matter, and she couldn't even do it for him. Really... but she hadn't spoken yet, and he already understood. "Did Minister Fudge say he was busy? Then he scolded you and told you to figure out a way to resolve the matter, that he didn't have time to deal with it?"
She was stunned for a moment and asked subconsciously, "How do you know?"
He chuckled. He had seen this a lot in his previous life. Fudge was really thoughtful. He had specially asked her, a Hufflepuff senior with whom he had had some interactions, to receive him. He was afraid he wanted to save face, and then it would end. Since this time it had come to nothing, then the next time he asked for resources, it would be natural for the Ministry to refuse to give them to him. Taking a deep breath, a cold look flashed across his eyes. He didn't let her take him to see Fudge again. Instead, he asked her, "Except for the Auror office, which other departments in the Ministry are undergoing so-called personnel reforms this time?"
She was stunned for a moment. She didn't quite understand why he asked this question, but she answered anyway. "And the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."
He raised an eyebrow. He still had an impression of this department, especially Amelia, the current Head of it. This exceptionally gifted witch was also from Hufflepuff. And it happened to be a coincidence that she was Susan Bones's aunt. In a sense, whether it was his background in the house or his relationship with Susan, Director Amelia and he could barely be considered "one of our own." Now, in addition to the Auror Department, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement headed by her was also being messed with by Fudge. He had made personnel changes in both the law enforcement and judicial departments. He had really played a big trick this time. If this continued, it seemed that it wouldn't be long before the leaders of these two departments would be directly sidelined by him, and the actual power would be in the hands of his people. His actual control over the Ministry would undergo a qualitative leap. Although it was not mentioned in the original book, judging from the fact that in his third year, he had made the outrageous decision to arrange for Dementors to enter Hogwarts, by that time, he must have already completed his actual control of these two departments. Now, due to Quirrell's incident, he might complete this step earlier than in the original book.
He narrowed his eyes. Now he owed him a debt and didn't pay it back. If Fudge continued like this, that would be too much. Maybe the contract would have to be torn up completely. This old thing... originally, he had had a good impression of him. After all, it had really benefited him. As a result, this was what had happened to him. It seemed that they couldn't let Fudge get too cocky. Politicians were the kind of people who only wanted to destroy bridges after crossing them.
The next moment, he said to Tonks, "Take me to the Auror's office first. And take me to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."
She was a little confused. Didn't he come to see Minister Fudge for something? What was he going to do in these two departments now? Immediately, he then waved his wand. A handkerchief in his hand turned into a huge banner with eye-catching, bright red words on it. "The evil-hearted Ministry of Magic violated the contract and withheld supplies from the eleven-year-old wizard, causing his academic research to go to waste! The Ministry of Magic knowingly breaks the law and has no sense of contract! Investigate corruption within the Ministry and restore a clean and honest environment. Minister Fudge must not be allowed to suffer a stigma! Make Minister Fudge great again!"
When Tonks saw him holding up the banner, she was completely dumbfounded. "No. ??? Char, what do you want to do?!"
He grinned. "Senior, isn't it obvious what I want to do? To protect Minister Fudge's reputation and to prevent this respectable old man from being stigmatized, I have to go petition."
She was dumbfounded. It felt like this world was so ridiculous. "No. That. Then what should I do?"
He looked at her in surprise. "Senior, of course, you're going to stop me. The louder and more commotion you make, the better."
Before she could react, the next second, he walked out of the reception room holding the banner, his face filled with indignation and an eagerness to protect the beloved Minister Fudge. And behind him, her anxious voice came to stop them. "No! You can't go through there!"
He exclaimed, "Nothing can stop me! I am Minister Fudge's most devoted supporter. How could he do such a thing as withholding potions and resources from young wizards? Someone must have had ulterior motives and deceived him. He is not that kind of person! Let me pass. I want to redress his innocence. I want to clear his name. Those who are throwing mud at him must be brought to justice! Let me through!"
Along the way, he waved the banner, wandering around the Ministry of Magic. And the employees who passed by and saw this scene were like seeing a ghost. No matter which faction they belonged to, no one understood the situation. What the hell was this? Was this Fudge's arrangement? Or a counterattack from the Auror Office? Or was it something else? The employees who had already noticed the recent undercurrents in the Ministry didn't want to be the first to be criticized. No one dared to get involved in the struggle between the big guys.
That's all. He was under Tonks's loud "stop" all the way, continuously approaching the Auror's office. At the same time, in the office, Scrimgeour's expression was gloomy, his face full of suppressed anger. He really couldn't imagine it. At Hogwarts, the reports from Dumbledore and several headmasters had clearly mentioned that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was still alive. It had even parasitized Quirrell and caused chaos in Hogwarts. Now the mysterious man had been repelled again. Shouldn't the Ministry be searching vigorously? Could this hidden danger be completely eliminated? But Fudge insisted that none of this was true. Instead, he had taken this opportunity to vigorously attack the Auror department, putting the carefully selected Aurors on rotation and then inserting his own confidant into it. Such things really made him very angry. But when it came to magical duels, he could hang Fudge up and beat him in eighteen different positions. But when it came to political struggles, he was no novice. But in front of a well-prepared Fudge, he still felt powerless. He couldn't see any way out of this situation. Just when his mood had hit rock bottom, he had a premonition that the Aurors he had spent so much effort to train might be in trouble because of political struggles. Many young Aurors might waste their precious growth period, which was the time to improve their strength and gain experience, on meaningless personnel struggles. But he was powerless and even ended up being sidelined.
But at this moment, there was a commotion near his ears. His brows were furrowed tightly. "What's going on?" Especially in this commotion, he kept hearing Fudge's name. His mood became even more depressed. Could it be another new wave of offensive from Fudge? Did this old guy really want to sideline him and take the Aurors' say? But after a moment, when his sensitive hearing heard the childish cries coming from outside, even though he had seen countless storms in his life, he still couldn't help but stay there. "No... what's going on?" But soon, he was keenly aware of this. Perhaps his chance to break the deadlock had come. He immediately walked out of the office and then saw Char, his face filled with indignation, waving a banner. A gleam of light suddenly flashed across his eyes. "What's going on?!"
When Char saw him come out, there was also a strange look in the depths of his eyes. He put the banner on the ground and immediately began his accusation. "Are you the head Auror? Responsible for fighting the bad guys, those dark wizards, those fraudsters and embezzlers, right?"
Scrimgeour's eyes flickered. "Son, yes, this is the Auror office. We are responsible for dealing with those who have lost their conscience. It's the bad guys."
Char shouted immediately, "Then there are bad guys in the Ministry of Magic, why don't you catch them?!"
A light suddenly flashed in his eyes. "What bad guys are there in the Ministry? You're just a kid, how do you know?"
He said indignantly, "How come I don't know?! Minister Fudge clearly promised me that. He even signed a magical contract with me in the presence of Headmaster Dumbledore, promising to provide me with resources for my research in Herbology. But now, I've been writing letters for three days and there's been no response at all. I was going to ask him what was going on, but I was turned away. Isn't it obvious that there are bad people in the Ministry? Poor Minister Fudge has been sidelined. They want to make him look dishonest and break the contract. Perhaps the resources that should have been given to me have been embezzled, but the blame will fall on him. How can I watch him being framed in this way? Investigation, I demand an investigation! I won't leave until I find out who is trying to sideline him and who wants him to bear the blame!"
Scrimgeour's cheek twitched now. If it weren't for his great endurance, he would have actually laughed out loud. Good. OK! He was worried that he would be suppressed by Fudge and could only watch helplessly as the power that belonged to him was being usurped. Now, the turning point had come. His face was filled with iron determination. He looked serious. "Someone has falsely accused and framed the Minister of Magic. Did someone inside embezzle a large amount of supplies? Merlin, this is a scandal, a huge scandal. There is no doubt that we must get to the bottom of it. The Auror Office not only deals with dark wizards, but also bad guys like this. We will never let any of them go!"
And just when he was speaking righteously, the sound of hurried footsteps also came from another direction. A hurried female voice sounded. "To uphold justice in the wizarding world, to try embezzlers, fraudsters, and those who are morally corrupt and defaming others... that is also the responsibility of our Department of Magical Law Enforcement. We also cannot stand by and watch the Minister's reputation be smeared. I think this matter requires joint law enforcement."
Char turned his head to look. The lady who was speaking had eyes, features, and an expression vaguely similar to Susan's. Plus this speech... it seemed she was Amelia, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He had originally planned to go to her department later. Unexpectedly, she had come here on her own after hearing what was going on. He was indeed a high-ranking official. Although he was from the most honest house, the sensitivity of his sense of smell was also extraordinary. But it was okay this way. He had done what he should do, and now it was time for the big guys to perform. No matter how they fought, he had only one goal: the Holy Tree Potion. Resources. His resources.
And at this time, Amelia's gaze fell on Tonks, who seemed to be "blocking" him but was actually adding fuel to the fire. This little girl must be an Auror who just got promoted. Wait, could this be something Scrimgeour arranged? Hiss. Expert. Her eyes became uncertain. It was not an isolated case. Scrimgeour's eyes were now moving between her and him. If he remembered correctly, her niece Susan seemed to be in the same year as him in Hufflepuff. Could this be arranged by her? Hiss. Expert. Their eyes met in the air at the same time. His heart was filled with a chill. They both felt that the other party was unfathomable. But a moment later, they also understood each other tacitly. He was almost suffocating because of Fudge. Now he had brought a glimmer of hope to break the deadlock. If they didn't cooperate, the heads of these two departments would deserve to be sidelined and turned into puppets.
And at this time, inside the Minister's office, Fudge looked excited. There was a feeling of being high-spirited. It wasn't long before the Auror Office and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement were being run according to his will. His authority would surpass that of the Minister of Magic of the previous dozen or so terms. This even made his desire to eliminate Dumbledore's threat rekindle. His eyes fell on the corner of the office. There was a pressed letter there, which had been sent by Char. To be honest, a thousand bottles of the potion were nothing to the huge Ministry of Magic. If it were before, he would have approved it. But now, although the incident had not been leaked to the public, there was no wall in the world that was completely airtight. Such a big thing had happened at Hogwarts. Dumbledore's authority had indeed been declining. This had made him think that he could try again, crossing the line a little to test Dumbledore's reaction. But now it was too much for him to do, for example, to use Harry Potter as a savior to test it. He didn't dare yet. But through Char, who had some relationship with Dumbledore, but not that close, it was worth a try. A deep look flashed across his eyes. "Dumbledore, then how are you going to respond?" A smile played on his lips. This moment, he truly felt like he was standing at the pinnacle of power.
Just immediately afterwards, he frowned. He seemed to hear a noise. There was also a hurried knock on his office door. Just as he pushed open the office door angrily, what caught his eye were his pale-faced staff members, Scrimgeour and Amelia, two important figures in the Ministry. There was a moment when he even had a ridiculous thought. It couldn't be that they were pushing themselves too hard. Were they going to kill him with a magic wand? But soon, when he saw the banner that Char had put up, and he heard his surprised cry after seeing him. "Minister Fudge! That's great, you weren't hurt by the bad guys, right? I'm really worried about you. You're such a good person. How could you possibly break your contract with me? You must have been manipulated by some bad guy. It's so good to see you again, Director Scrimgeour and Director Amelia. You will definitely uphold fairness and justice in the Ministry!"
Scrimgeour and Amelia looked at him with a subtle look, as if telling him, Now, I've caught you. He was completely frozen in time. He opened his mouth in shock. He seemed to finally understand something. He was breathing rapidly. Thoughts raced through his mind. Was it Scrimgeour's plan? Or was it Amelia's? Wrong. It couldn't be them. They were not that smart. If he had had such means, would he have forced himself into such a situation? That could also mean—a moment later, a name that made him gasp appeared in his mind. "Dumbledore—he must be secretly manipulating all this! I took advantage of the kindhearted Char Sprout, and then took advantage of Scrimgeour and Amelia's situation, forcing them to find a reason to unite and launch a counterattack against me. He didn't even show up during this whole thing. He takes all of humanity into account? Hiss. What a cruel White Devil!"
For a while, he was feeling a little dizzy. It was like being hit hard and waking up. Now, he was not qualified to break Dumbledore's wrist. And then there was their alliance. This time, he had had enough. The eyes of the three people clashed invisibly, and there seemed to be flashes of swords and sabers. That night, in the small greenhouse, he recalled everything that had happened during the day. He couldn't help but sigh. "Heh. No one thinks there's something wrong with me? You even feel like I'm being used? Our little credit score is still high."
As for what had happened to Fudge, Scrimgeour, and Amelia afterwards, he didn't know. By then, Fudge had already sent him away with an excuse. But he didn't care about the power struggle within the Ministry. After all—at this moment, boxes of holy tree potions had been delivered to the small greenhouse. Fudge had replenished his supplies as soon as possible. Even before he had returned to Hogwarts, these supplies had been delivered as soon as possible. And the quantity was more than the one thousand bottles he had requested. Fudge had directly allocated as many as one thousand five hundred bottles. Looking at the full box, he showed a satisfied expression. "So, we still have to make a fuss. The bigger the commotion, the faster the compensation will come. This should be enough for the guardian tree seed to transform."
Immediately, his thoughts were also pulled away from everything in the Ministry. To him, no political schemes were as important as planting trees. Taking a deep breath, he took out bottle after bottle of the potion, pouring it into the dried-up reagent bottle. The next moment, an unprecedentedly abundant supply of potions caused the cracked seed to begin to frantically absorb the sacred magic power in them at a much faster speed than before, like a hungry meal. A bottle could be completely absorbed in just one or two seconds and turned into clear water. You know, the cost price of this bottle of potion was close to ten gold Galleons. In a short time, this seed was equivalent to swallowing hundreds of them. He was stunned. It was not an exaggeration to describe this seed as a gold-swallowing cave. Fortunately, he had caught a big player this time. For a behemoth like the Ministry of Magic, this amount of resources was just a drop in the bucket. Even if it was ten or a hundred times more, it was nothing. Then, he didn't even blink, pouring in bottle after bottle of the potion. One hundred, two hundred, three hundred bottles... the cracks on the seeds began to heal one by one. But the further back he went, the bigger the cracks, and the more potion was needed. Five hundred, six hundred, seven hundred bottles... resources that would make countless wizards dumbfounded were poured in. There was still a long crack on the seed, which had never healed. He raised an eyebrow. Like this, it seemed that the one thousand bottles he had originally requested might not be enough. Fortunately, Fudge had given as many as 1,500 bottles this time.
He gritted his teeth and poured in another five hundred bottles. Finally, after he had cast the Patronus Charm countless times, and there were also these 1,200 bottles of potion, with a total value of more than 10,000 Galleons, the seed first cracked and then healed. The situation now was completely different from before. Crisscrossing silver lines left spider-web-like marks on the seeds. It looked like a piece of hollow silver-carved art, breathtakingly beautiful. But his gaze had no time to pay attention to the beautiful luster of the seeds themselves. Instead, he focused entirely on the reward information that appeared above the seed. They had all been in a period of transformation and were flickering. At this moment, the light finally began to shine. The handwriting gradually became clearer. When the light on the reward information slowly began to stabilize, he couldn't help but reveal anticipation in his eyes. After all this trouble, what level would the seeds produced be? Diamond level for sure. But was there a glimmer of a seed that might be epic? If so, then he would definitely make a lot of money.
After all, so far, in addition to the two mythical plants, the World Tree Roots and the Fire God Seeds, the highest level of rewards he had seen was the epic level of the Whomping Willow. The cultivation of it was a subject that countless masters of herbology had failed to master. This showed how difficult it was. Even though he had been lucky enough to rely on the shadow thorns to successfully insert the branches of the Whomping Willow, that was only a small part of the first step. There was still a long way to go before successfully cultivating it and obtaining the reward. As for other epic ancient plants, because most of their activities were far less than their peak period, it was more difficult to cultivate than the branches of the Whomping Willow. Forget about him right now. If only this seed could be nurtured to epic proportions. Its powerful activity would not only greatly reduce the difficulty of cultivation, but the key was that he could mass-produce it using Guardian Tree seeds. Epic seeds that could be mass-produced were absolutely priceless resources. Even for him, it might be more precious than the mythical seeds that were extremely difficult to grow.
Now, the luster of the reward information became increasingly gloomy. Iron, bronze, silver, gold—these stages were almost fleeting. A moment later, the platinum light also flashed by, then it was replaced by the brilliance of diamonds. To this point, he already felt that he had made no loss. After all, the original guardian tree, even after being blessed by Dumbledore's Patronus Charm, was not even at the diamond level. However, he had been able to mass-produce diamond-grade seeds by relying on the Patronus Charm, which he could not yet control. The power of this charm could already be seen. But with the clear light of the diamond level shining brighter and brighter, his heartbeat still burst with acceleration. As time passed, the clear light was extremely bright. Immediately, a flash of purple light was born from the xenon box. His breathing also hitched. Epic gloss. A moment later, a scene that shocked him happened again. In the purple light, another strange luster emerged. He widened his eyes. "This is—legendary light?!"
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