v6 Chapter 4： This is a life-and-death struggle!

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The elevator door was opened again on the fourth floor.

Mrs. Akemore, who was standing in the doorway, was stunned.

She saw a shocking scene:

Umbridge was on her knees, her head raised, a disgusting smile on her lips, and she was holding a wad of paper covered with a sticky liquid.

Oh, Merlin's stockings...

Mrs. Akemore stayed where she was, she wanted to bend for a moment, and made up a strange picture in her mind.

no!

Is this the Ministry of Magic elevator? You two are in there...that's absurd!

And...the elevator stops at almost every floor, and the interval is only a few seconds.

Minister, your speed... is too fast?

Mrs. Akemore thought contemptuously.

Umbridge was about to explain, but stopped abruptly.

She didn't realize that the posture was wrong, she was thinking of something else instead.

What to say?

To tell the truth, it is the spit on the minister's shoes.

But... what is her identity? Advisor to the Minister of Magic!

A consultant helped the minister to polish his shoes, doing this kind of house-elf work. If someone knew about it, wouldn't he think that Umbridge got to the top by licking the minister?

Although this is true, you can't let others think that way!

She came to the top by her ability and skillful business, not by licking!

Umbridge's mind went back and forth, and she immediately said:

"Mr. Minister's contact lenses have fallen out, don't be stunned, hurry up and help?"

Mrs. Akemore hesitated again, and began a new round of brain supplementation.

Umbridge wouldn't be hinting at her.

No, she's a good woman!

A good husband, daughter Marietta at Hogwarts...a happy family.

Fortunately, Umbridge had already shouted:

"Ah, found it, I found it, you can go."

Mrs. Akemore was stunned for two seconds, and was about to leave when Umbridge stopped again.

She threatened: "The Minister doesn't want people to know that he has Muggle contact lenses, you don't talk about it, otherwise..."

Mrs. Akemore nodded hastily, and ran away.

She is a small staff member of the Floo Network Authority, how dare she go out and talk nonsense.

However, out of sight of Umbridge, a small beetle was holding a camera that also zoomed out, taking pictures.

The angle is tricky and strange!

The elevator swayed slightly and went up again, and a cold female voice announced: "The first floor, the Office of the Minister of Magic and the Logistics Office."

Fudge stepped out of the elevator and passed one bright wooden door after another, each with a small sign with the name and title of the person in the room.

Fudge enjoyed it, and he walked the road countless times, each time drawn to the majesty, complexity and inscrutability of the Ministry of Magic.

Passing by the consultant's office, Umbridge did not enter, but continued to walk, following the minister towards his room.

The minister's office looks more like a luxurious living room.

There were no piles of papers, no letters of every kind that needed to be answered...just the oriental rug, the black oak desk, and the cushioned chairs.

A famous Boucher painting adorns the walls, and Fudge-related books fill the shelves.

Some of them were introduced by him, some of them were endorsed by him... and some were written by him to make money.

Fudge sat down on the velvet sofa, and Umbridge poured two glasses of Bordeaux and walked over slowly.

"Okay, Minister, don't be angry, I have other ways to help you deal with Dumbledore."

Umbridge rubbed Fudge's shoulders.

"How?" Fudge took a sip of his thirty-year-old red wine.

"Since Weasley can't, we can get his son, that young man named Percy Weasley."

"Can you?" Fudge hesitated.

The Weasleys were all weird, and he didn't think that Percy would be his.

"I'm sure, I can see that he's the only 'normal' and 'smart' in the Weasleys," Umbridge said confidently.

"Go and call him," urged Fudge. "Don't let Arthur see it."

Soon, Umbridge and Percy entered the room.

Fudge is reading the book that he wrote this year - "Wizards' Office for Poverty Alleviation - Scotland's last poor wizarding village takes off its hat, and the old ranch also has new tricks"

Percy looked at the book with excitement.

Fudge looked up and said, "Why, have you seen it?"

"Yes, I have to read for half an hour before going to bed every night...I will recite almost every paragraph, Mr. Minister!" Percy shivered with excitement.

Fudge raised his eyebrows, and anyone else remembered what he wrote?

This new licking method made Fudge a little dark.

He immediately selected a few paragraphs, and Percy was indeed a scholar, and he did memorize it completely.

"Not bad... not bad." Fudge looked at Percy, but suddenly said: "My child, I remember that you committed a serious crime of oversight.

You didn't realize that your boss, Crouch, was controlled by his son. "

"I know...it's my fault...but...I..." Percy's lips trembled.

"Son, just such a mistake is enough to ruin your political career." Fudge shook his head and sighed:

"You should be aware that Crouch is mentally ill and report it to your superiors."

Percy looked at Fudge pleadingly.

"But...I can give you a chance." Fudge lowered his voice and let Percy sit down.

"As long as you are willing to cooperate with me... Of course no one is making irresponsible remarks, I can still give you a promotion and a raise.

I also have a distant cousin who I can introduce to you. "

If William was here, it would feel very familiar. Because of this cousin, I once wanted to introduce it to him.

"What do you want me to do?" Percy asked.

"My son, your father, what is he doing on the seventh floor?" Umbridge asked immediately.

Percy thought for a moment and replied, "He went to Ludo Bagman. Bagman owed Galleon at Gringotts.

They seem to be fighting for Gringotts... I didn't get it. "

"Gringotts?" Fudge frowned.

Could it be that Dumbledore was already fighting over the goblins and wanted to take him down?

Fudge's face became more and more ugly.

"What else did you hear?" Umbridge asked.

"It's like... the International Conference of Wizards or something... They won't let me near, I don't know..." Percy shook his head.

"International Conference of Wizards." Fudge swallowed.

Could it be at the convention that the mysterious man was resurrected?

"Percy, I can transfer you from the International Exchange and Cooperation Department and give you an errand as an assistant minister..." Fudge said slowly.

"Really?" Percy stood up. "Thank you, Mr. Minister!"

"But I need you to spy on me... spy on Dumbledore and Stark."

Percy struggled.

"Son, you need to know I have evidence of Dumbledore's crime. You are drawing a line with him." Fudge continued.

"If something happens, your father can't escape, but because of you...he will be fine."

Percy was pale, his teeth biting his lip. After a while, he raised his head and said:

"I promise!"

Percy left, but Fudge covered his head with a headache.

International Wizarding Congress.

Dumbledore is the president of the International Confederation of Wizards.

"Minister, it's not difficult to deal with Dumbledore." Umbridge laughed.

"What do you mean?" Fudge turned his head. "He's the president."

"Although Dumbledore is the president of the International Federation of Wizards, he still has an identity, that is, the representative of the United Kingdom." Umbridge said quickly.

"If you want to become a representative of the United Kingdom, you must agree to the Ministry of Magic. As long as you disqualify him, he is not a representative of the United Kingdom, and naturally he will not be president."

Fudge was silent.

The British wizard is the president of the federation, and naturally represents great power and status.

Once lost, it will definitely be bad for the UK.

but……

Fudge suddenly remembered the first time he had entered the main hall of the Ministry of Magic.

He was eighteen at the time, about the same age as Percy, and ambitious.

He was thinking about how long it would take to walk from the main hall to the minister's office.

But it really took me 30 years to come here, my hair is already bald.

Fudge couldn't just give up the position of Minister!

He gritted his teeth.

Politics is not a dinner party, but a life-and-death struggle!

Don't blame me for being cruel, Dumbledore.

Blame it...you're not the minister yourself!

...

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(Ask for a recommendation ticket, everyone.)