0362 Another Admirer

0362 Another Admirer

The night had begun with a gentle pitter-patter of rain droplets pouring from the inky black sky, but as the hours ticked by, the heavens unleashed their fury in the form of a torrential downpour. Streaks of blinding lightning illuminated the turbulent waters of the black lake, their jagged tendrils slicing through the darkness like ethereal swords. This sudden onslaught of nature's wrath sent shockwaves rippling through the murky depths, disturbing the slumber of the colossal squid that dwelled within.

The massive creature, its tentacles as thick as ancient oak trunks, thrashed about in a frenzy, propelled by the raging winds and the pummeling rain. Its gigantic bulk displaced vast quantities of water, causing the water to rise and surge forth, flooding the lawns that surrounded the majestic castle grounds.

Filch, who was on night patrol and witnessed this scene, was at a loss for what to do. He had no choice but to take the risk of waking his immediate superior.

To prevent the young wizards and witches from awakening to the nightmarish sight of Hogwarts Castle submerged within the depths of the lake, Bryan had no choice but to venture forth into the storm. He engaged in a 'pleasant' 'negotiation' with the rampaging giant squid. With the situation resolved, he then spent some time meticulously repairing the battered embankment. In short, he almost didn't sleep all night.

This night's wild events directly triggered Bryan's delay in arriving at the Ministry of Magic by the appointed hour of 8 a.m. the following day.

The entire months of March and April were probably a disaster that the ordinary employees of the Ministry of Magic would never want to revisit.

First, Bryan Watson had eradicated the most wicked and feared werewolf pack that had plagued Magical Britain. Hot on the heels of this triumph came the capture of the infamous Sirius Black, the Azkaban fugitive whose daring escape had sent shockwaves through the wizarding community.

And as if these seismic events were not enough to shake the very foundations of the Ministry, the shocking revelation that Peter Pettigrew, once glorified as a hero and bestowed with the Order of Merlin, First Class, was in fact a traitorous murderer, followed swiftly by his trial before the Wizengamot court.Fôll0w current novÊls on n/o/(v)/3l/b((in).(co/m)

Any one of these momentous occurrences would have been sufficient to fuel discussions and debates for an entire year in past, yet here they stood, these earth-shattering events that had intensely impacted the entire European wizarding world, compressed into the span of a mere month or two. It can be imagined how much unnecessary trouble this brought to the officials of the British Ministry of Magic.

Now, with these matters finally concluded, Rufus Scrimgeour and his subordinates remained entangled in their investigation, their efforts focused on uncovering the identity of the individual responsible for tampering with the Portkey leading from the Department of Mysteries to Azkaban, an act that had resulted in Pettigrew's untimely demise. However, this particular case held little relevance for the vast majority of Ministry officials.

Now, they could return to their routine, leisurely yet busy work.

The previous night's storm had overwhelmed even London's drainage system, leaving the city's streets and alleyways awash in murky, stagnant pools. As Bryan Apparated into the secluded alley that housed the Ministry's telephone booth entrance, he was surprised to find these deserted alley flooded with murky water up to his ankles.

"Oh, damn!" he exclaimed, his brow furrowing as he surveyed the veritable 'ocean' that lay before him. "I hope the Ministry of Magic hasn't been flooded."

Although the entrance telephone booth looked shabby on the outside, it was still reliable. Bryan successfully entered the Ministry of Magic's entrance hall.

Even on the most ordinary of days, the Ministry was a disharmony of sound and motion, with every individual present wearing an expression of urgency as they hurried about their tasks. The relentless rain appeared to have exacted its toll on the Ministry as well, as Bryan emerged from the fireplace, he bore witness to a scene of disarray. Numerous fireplaces on his left, right, and across from him stood inoperative, their hearths dark and cold, while a young staff member was frantically trying to stop the rainwater seeping from the fireplace walls from making a mess of the grand hall.

Noting the puzzled expression that flashed across Bryan's face, Creswell swiftly clarified, "It's about you, Mr. Watson, not Greyback. Professor Slughorn felt he should have held off retiring a bit longer so he could have been your Head of House, instead of letting Severus Snape take advantage!"

"Heh heh, please convey my gratitude for his kind sentiments," Bryan chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he came to a halt before the office door that marked his destination. "I believe this is my stop."

"Allow me to knock for you!" Creswell exclaimed, bounding ahead before Bryan could protest, his knuckles knocking smartly against the sturdy oak.

"You're late," came the curt response from within, the voice laced with a distinct undercurrent of irritation.

This was an extremely oppressive office, with its antiquated, stuffy decor giving the impression of being transported back to the 18th century. But one only needed to glance at the meticulously organized shelves crammed full of files to sense that the room's occupant was a severely regimented individual, bordering on obsessive-compulsive.

Barty Crouch stood behind his desk, his expression blank yet his eyes piercing, fixed unwaveringly upon the two wizards as they entered his office.

"It's not Mr. Watson's fault!" Creswell burst out indignantly before Bryan could offer an explanation, his voice dripping with self-righteous indignation.

"I'll speak the truth, Mr. Crouch. If the Ministry would loosen its purse strings a bit and spend some money to properly repair our infrastructure, the entrance wouldn't be in such a mess now!"

"You know Barty's style, Dirk - he's used to being practical," a third wizard interjected, leaping to Crouch's defense.

It was at this point that Bryan realized Crouch's office was not unoccupied - Ludo Bagman, the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, was also present. A fourth wizard lingered in the visitors' area, hunched in whispered discussion with Ludo, a travel case at his feet suggesting an imminent departure. It was he who had spoken up for Crouch, though his real motive seemed to be avoiding any further pestering, judging by Crouch's expression.

"Oh, Cuthbert?" Creswell blurted out, recognition flickering in his eyes as he addressed the fourth wizard. "What are you doing here? Didn't you request leave from the Minister to go on holiday?"

"I'm hitching a ride!" Cuthbert Mockridge, the Head of the Goblin Liaison Office and Creswell's own supervisor, exclaimed with undisguised joy, giving his suitcase an emphatic kick.

"I'm planning to stroll around Paris for a few days. I was originally going to use Muggle transportation, but Ludo told me they were also going to Paris. I can conveniently use Barty's international Floo from his office instead. Barty was quite accommodating and agreed right away!"

From the expression on Barty Crouch's face, Bryan could see that the main reason behind his acquiescence was to avoid further harassment from the overly enthusiastic Cuthbert Mockridge.

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