Chapter 162

The English Quidditch team is actually a department under the jurisdiction of the Department of magic and sports of the Ministry of magic.

The magic sports affairs department is a clean water Yamen with insufficient funds, so the team usually operates independently, and the magic sports department is just a name. In addition to the "Quidditch World Cup" kick-off period, we will pay extra attention. The rest of the time is due to the free stocking stage.

Good grades are good, and poor achievements don't matter.

As long as the team doesn't dissolve, let alone recruit a new person to join the team, no one will take care of you even if it breaks out.

But today is different

Michael, director of magic sports Bryant and a group of Ministry of magic officials came to the headquarters of England Quidditch team very seriously.

They frowned one by one, as if they were in a bad mood.

"What does the minister think? How can a 12-year-old participate in a formal Quidditch competition?"

"There's no way. I can only say that Mr. Dumbledore's face is still too big, so the minister has to open the back door and give special approval..."

"No, how did I hear that the people on the other side of the team begged thousands and thousands of requests before Mr. fudge."

"Who knows, all I know is that if it does happen, we England will become the laughing stock of the whole Europe, just like our ministers."

"Shh, keep your voice down. You want to be dismissed!"

Michael sighed and complained to himself about Cornell, who could only wear a bowler hat and talk nonsense Fudge is outrageous.

Normal people would not agree with a minor child to join the national team, but the minister agreed. He not only agreed, but also seemed very happy.

It's embarrassing for Michael.

Bumps and bumps are common in Quidditch games. Can the child's fragile body withstand the impact of a swimming ball?

In case something happens, it's not Cornell who carries the pot Fudge, but the director of magic sports!

"What a fucking bad luck!"

Keeping a short inch, Michael scolded in his heart, shook off his big step and took his men into the headquarters of the English Quidditch team.

"Welcome, gentlemen, you've worked hard."

As the head of the team, manager William is used to being a man. He smiled and walked quickly to Michael and others.

"Mr. Dumbledore, they have been waiting for a while. Now they are all here. The investigation can start at any time."

The team agrees, and the Hogwarts school does not object, not to mention Klein himself. But the official endorsement of the Ministry of magic is needed to have the official status of a Quidditch athlete.

Like the Merlin jazz, Michael Bryant came to visit Klein this time Whether Greenwald is qualified to join the national team.

"Very good."

Michael nodded faintly, ignored the enthusiasm of manager William and took the initiative to move towards the direction of Hogwarts "family and friends group".

"Hello, Mr. Dumbledore."

No matter when the "greatest White Wizard" is a platoon, even the director of the first Department of the Ministry of magic must put down his figure and practice rites honestly.

Of course, he was also very polite to the accompanying professors McGonagall and flavy.

"Hehe, Hello, Michael."

Dumbledore has many contacts. He is clear about that matter in the Ministry of magic. The name of a director of magic sports can't beat him at all.

The old man smiled gently and pointed to someone on the field.

"Look, Klein is there."

Looking in the direction Dumbledore pointed, Michael narrowed his eyes and saw Klein for the first time Real Greenwood.

The reason to emphasize that he is a "real person" is because he is no stranger to the child.

A few months ago, I could see that good-looking face in the prophet Daily every three or five times, so that my wife kept nagging in his ear, "how are other people's children so beautiful and how are they born?"

"Very tall."

After looking at Klein for a while, Michael gave an objective evaluation.

For a 12-year-old child, Klein's size is very excellent. If he develops in eight or nine years, Michael doesn't doubt that he will become a strong and good boy.

But now?

He couldn't help thinking of the picture of a porcelain doll broken by a swimming ball.

"Hoo ~"

Take a deep breath, Michael said with an embarrassed face.

"Mr. Dumbledore, I know Klein is an excellent child, but some things are not..."

Before he finished, Dumbledore interrupted him with a smile and a wave of his hand.

"Look, the game is about to begin."

"Well."

It's not easy to hold your words in your throat, but the other party is albus Dumbledore, Michael had no confidence in himself, so he had to lower his head and comfort himself silently.

"Forget it, other people's students don't care. What's the matter with you as an outsider? If it turns out that Klein glindwald is really not suitable for the formal Quidditch competition, it's good to tell the truth in the report."

Sure, Michael put his attention on the court.

......

"How short."

Although the child opposite is tall among his peers, facing a group of muscle sticks with an average height of more than six feet (185cm), it is really like a reed stick. How pathetic it is.

The Quidditch players did not hide their eyes and looked at Klein wantonly.

"To introduce you, this is Klein Greenwald, a new member of the team."

Gasol stood between the two groups, Lang said.

After a pause, he took a deep breath.

"Also, the new captain."

When the words fell, the atmosphere suddenly became quiet.

Then there was a terrible laugh.

"Captain, when did you joke so much?"

"Hahaha, my brother is bigger than him. Trust me, I'm serious."

"White, is your brother from home or in your pants?"

"Roll, roll!"

They are all brothers who fight together. They are joking. Meat and vegetables are not taboo. Although Klein is not an adult, no team member, including the reserve team, will care about the idea of a kid.

Most people were laughing. Even Klein smiled so brightly.

Only one person didn't laugh.

That's Gasol Wiggins.

"Enough!"

Gasol let out a roar and his eyes widened.

Startled by the roar, the team members immediately stopped laughing and looked at the abnormal captain in surprise.

"Let me say it, Gasol."

Unexpectedly, Klein suddenly stood up.

In Gasol's complex eyes, he took a few steps forward, closer to the regular and reserve players. Sweeping those faces with different expressions, he still waved his hand with a bright smile like a self introduction.

"Hello, garbage."