Chapter 936

Umbridge was absolutely out of his head, or perhaps this report touched the sensitive nerves of the Ministry of magic.

They have just brought Sirius back into the dark, barely covering up Azkaban's affairs, and now they have to deal with an absolutely true report.

The fact can't be covered up forever. The changes in the magic world are really too big. Azkaban is out of control, the black wizards are gathering, and there are more deaths. However, the Ministry of magic has been advocating peace and stability.

This itself is enough contradiction, contradiction to make more and more people dissatisfied with the Ministry of magic.

In the eyes of van Lim, Umbridge's practice obviously lost the power when he first came to Hogwarts. Now it seems that Umbridge is like a fly with no way to go, buzzing in the Hogwarts castle

Wait, it's not the season for flies to come out

If there's anything else that will please the vanillians, it's Malfoy, Clara and Goyle's reaction.

I went to the library later that afternoon and saw them.

A couple of people were huddling their heads together and a Hermione called him sildo. Nott's unkempt boy whispers. They saw Harry as he searched the shelves for books about partial disappearance.

Goyle maliciously pulled the wrench, while Malfoy spoke maliciously to crabber.

Harry fully understood what they were doing: he called their father a Death Eater.

"Best of all," said Hermione happily as they left the library, "they can't attack you because they can't admit reading that article!"

Finally, Luna is having dinner to tell Tan Dong that wizard Weekly has never sold so fast.

"Dad is printing more!" She told Harry that her eyes were red with excitement. "He couldn't believe it. He said people were even more interested in finding elves than in how to find them!"

And that night in the Gryffindor lounge, Harry became a hero. Fred and George boldly magnified the cover of wizard weekly and hung it on the wall, so Harry's big head kept looking at the activity below, muttering from time to time that "the Ministry of magic is a fool" and "eat the dung, aunumrich.".

Hermione didn't find it interesting at all. She said it disturbed her thinking and finally she went to bed in her room angrily.

After an hour or two later, Harry thought the poster was no more fun, especially when the spell faded, and it would say "poop" and "Umbridge" off and on.

As a matter of fact, his head began to ache again, and the scars pricked uncomfortably. He announced that he was going to bed, and the people around him immediately groaned with disappointment. They had asked him to repeat the interview countless times.

When he returned to the dormitory, there was no one in it.

Harry put his forehead against the cold glass window beside the bed, and the scar felt better. Then he lay down on the bed without taking off his clothes, hoping that the headache would soon disappear. He felt a little uncomfortable and turned over to close his eyes. He soon fell asleep.

……

He was standing in a dark room with a curtain on it, in which there was a candle. His hands clung to the back of a chair in front of him. His fingers were long, as if he had not seen the sun for a long time, and looked like some big pale spiders on the black velvet back of his chair. On the other side of the chair, in the dim light of a candle, knelt a man in a black robe.

"I thought about it carefully," said Harry in a high, cold, angry voice.

"Master, I beg your forgiveness," the man on his knees said hoarsely. The back of his head flashed in the candlelight and seemed to be shaking.

"I'm not blaming you, Lockwood," Harry said, still in a cold voice. He let go of his grip on the chair and went around it to the man crouching on the ground, standing upright, looking taller than usual.

"Are you sure of your situation, Lockwood?" Asked Harry.

"Yes, my master, yes. I've been working in the Department, after all - "

" avery told me bird could get it. "

"Bird can't get it, master. Bird should know he can't. So, he would resist Malfoy's spell like that. "

"Stand up, Lockwood," Harry whispered. The man was so eager to obey that he almost fell to the ground.

His face was covered with acne, and the candle light lightened the scar. He stood up, still slightly bent over and looked up at Harry in awe, like a bow.

"It's good to tell me that," Harry said coldly, "very good. I've wasted months making useless plans. But it doesn't matter. Now we'll start again. I thank you very much, Lockwood

"My master, yes, my master," gasped Lockwood.

"I need your help and all the information you can provide. Before those blood clans finish their work, we still have to endure for a while... "

With that, Harry felt an irresistible force. It was very cold. It was stronger than what he felt now."Of course, my master, of course, all."

"Well, you go. Call Avery. "

Lockwood ran back quickly, bent over and disappeared behind the door. Alone in the dark room, Harry turned to the wall and hung a broken, old mirror in the shadow.

Harry walked towards it. In the dark, his figure grew bigger and clearer, with a pale, skeletal face and red eyes with narrow pupils.

"No

"What's the matter?" A voice nearby said.

Harry was so frantic that he wound up the curtain and rolled to the ground. For a few minutes he did not know where he was, and to be sure, he saw the pale, skeletal face approaching him again in the dark.

Then Ron's voice sounded in his ear, "if you can stop being so crazy, I can get you out of here!"

Ron pulled the curtain open, and Harry glared at him in the moonlight and lay flat with his scars burning. Ron looked ready to go to bed with one sleeve of his robe on.

"What happened? Has anyone been attacked? " Van Lin hides Ron and gets Harry up. "What do you see?"

"No - no one," gasped Harry, his forehead baking on the fire. "Avery's not good. He's in trouble. He gave him the wrong message. Voldemort was really angry

Harry groaned, covering his scar with his hand.

"But now Lockwood has come to help him and he's back on the right track."

"What are you talking about?" Ron sounded scared. "You mean, you just saw the mystery man?"

"I'm the mystery man," said Harry, stretching out his hands in the dark to his face to see if they were still as pale as death, with very long fingers. "He's with Lockwood. He's a Death Eater from Azkaban, remember? Lockwood told him that Byrd had failed. "

"What failed?" Fanlin asked quickly.

"Go and get something. He said Byrd should know he couldn't get it. Byrd has been struck by the curse, and I think he said Malfoy's father did it

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