Chapter 60: The Holidays Are Over!
The Department of Magical Law Enforcement, as the central department under the direct supervision of the Ministry of Magic and the highest coordinating body of the law enforcement system, has several subsidiary departments:
the Auror Office, which coordinates the investigation of magical crimes, the detention of suspects, and the execution of judicial procedures of the Wizengamot throughout the territory;
the Wizengamot Office, which manages the drafting of laws and policy review; and
the Attacker Recognition Unit, responsible for approving and issuing special operations permits for the Auror forces to combat the forces of Dark magic that endanger the safety of wizards...
Although these departments wield great authority and can even coordinate and manage other Ministry of Magic departments during special periods, they have enjoyed nearly a decade of peace since the fall of the Dark Lord. The most urgent mission they carried out last year was handling a minor magical leak:
an old witch's tea set, resold to a Muggle antique shop, caused an accident to the Muggle buyer and her relatives. The Auror Office recovered the tea set and cooperated with the Obliviator to mitigate the incident's impact. The rest of the cleanup was entrusted to the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office for investigation and management.
Initially considered a minor violation of the Statute of Secrecy, Director Umbridge of the Office for the Misuse of Magic, unwilling to let Weasley and the others take the credit, attempted to reclassify the case as a grave violation of the Statute, a serious threat to the survival of wizards in Britain.
Fortunately, the members of the Wizengamot did not fall for her deception and upheld the original verdict, allowing them to enjoy a peaceful Christmas holiday.
Kingsley Shacklebolt took a sip of his beer and sighed softly.
"If Umbridge knew about the memory mirror, there would probably be another farce..."
This Auror was not the only one with such thoughts. Also sitting in the corner was Rita Skeeter, a renowned journalist and special correspondent for The Daily Prophet.
The witch sat alone at a round table at the back. Her hair was meticulously styled, arranged in strange, stiff waves that accentuated her broad jawline. Bejeweled glasses rested on her nose, and her bright red, polished nails clasped a glass of gin and tonic, sipping it slowly.
As one of the finest journalists and writers in the country, and perhaps even the world, she knew all the high-ranking officials of the Ministry of Magic. Dolores Umbridge, who rose to Head of Office before the age of 30 and became the de facto figure of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, was a particular subject of her observation. Her constant appearance in pink cardigans and frilly skirts, her fondness for girlish pink accessories, and her love for fat cats with bows were superficial, irrelevant observations.
More importantly, the Head of Office was secretly domineering and sanctimonious, eager to control her subordinates and flatter her superiors, skillfully manipulating events to her advantage.
This was not unlike what Skeeter herself did, though her methods were more elegant and subtle, whereas the Head of Office was a clumsy and vulgar power manipulator, often earning the dislike of colleagues.
Skeeter had already investigated: Umbridge, who always boasted of her Selwyn pure-blood lineage from Wiltshire, was in reality the daughter of a frivolous and neglectful Muggle mother, a father who worked as a janitor at the Ministry, and a Squib brother.
Mrs. Umbridge was a diligent worker, but her abilities were limited. She climbed the hierarchy by ingratiating herself with her superiors insincerely, taking credit for her colleagues' achievements, and slandering lesser wizards as serious criminals.
Skeeter had already prepared a full biography for her, waiting for Umbridge's fall or retirement. If she ever became Minister, all the better — the biography would be even more popular, and Skeeter's name as a famous journalist would spread throughout the British wizarding world, rivaling even the adventurer Lockhart.
"Perhaps we can give her another credit..."
Skeeter raised her heavily painted brows.
A crocodile-skin handbag lay on the round table before her. A green shorthand quill scribbled quickly across the parchment, leaving behind a series of flowing sentences:
"This Mirror of Shadows seems to be an entirely magical artifact, but any wizard with even a basic knowledge of Muggle Studies can discern that it is an imitation of Muggle television. I will not delve into the deeper intentions behind this imitation, but even the slightest observation reveals that the influence of the Mirror of Shadows, like a vast network, has quietly enveloped the entire British wizarding community, desperately awaiting the intervention of skilled wizards..."
... The next day, back to work.
In the depths beneath Whitehall, London.
The Prime Minister's Office had not fully reopened yet, and with little work to do, Kingsley had time to return to the Ministry of Magic for the post-holiday morning meeting of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
A bright green fire flared up from the fireplace outside the circular hall, and the air crackled with sharp, resonant sounds as wizards Apparated into the room. Staff from every department had largely returned to work; hundreds of witches and wizards dragged themselves about chaotically, their expressions marked by post-holiday gloom.
Golden elevators carried staff to the various departments. Aside from the interrogation rooms and the Department of Mysteries in the basement, the other floors gradually filled with activity.
"Second floor, Department of Magical Law Enforcement..."
Many wizards thought the female voice was too cold, but Kingsley found it appropriate, more in keeping with the spirit of magical governance.
He stepped out of the elevator and walked down the corridor. At the end, he turned right and pushed open two heavy oak doors. There was the Auror Office. Although it was called an office, it was actually an open space divided by wooden panels. Ordinary Aurors worked in cubicles. A little farther ahead was the meeting room.
The Department of Magical Law Enforcement held a morning meeting after every holiday. Representatives from each office attended to report on the cases handled by on-duty staff during the holiday. These were mostly drunken wizards who had used magic to send themselves or their relatives to St. Mungo's Hospital. There had been no serious problems in ten years.
As Kingsley entered the meeting room, he glanced around. Even before the meeting began, most of the staff were already present, except Umbridge and Madam Bones, the head of the Department. After greeting his colleagues quietly, he chose not to sit beside his immediate superior, Rufus Scrimgeour, but with the trainee Auror recording the meeting.
At the end of the round table sat a playful, lively witch with bright pink hair and sparkling black eyes, eyeing the captain with a rather wicked gaze.
Nymphadora Tonks grinned: "Captain, you're here."
"Yes."
Kingsley glanced at her notebook, which displayed a pink man blowing bubbles with chewing gum. The captain chuckled softly: "How's Auror training going?"
Tonks sighed gloomily: "It was terrible. I failed the stealth test twice in a row. Moody said he could find me with one eye closed."
"Which eye closed? Doesn't he still have the magical eye?"
"That's what I asked," Tonks nodded earnestly. "Then he assigned me to be that pink toad's assistant during rotation. Moody said that as long as I stayed in Umbridge's office for three months, Merlin himself would let me pass the stealth test."
Kingsley laughed: "I agree with him. Your most important task in the next three months is to try not to draw Umbridge's attention."
"It should end today. I have to report to her separately after the meeting."
Tonks flipped a page of her notebook, carefully filled with the accumulated details of the holidays: Willy Weathersing had enchanted a Muggle toilet seat in a public restroom, causing a Muggle's backside to be bitten into seven pieces; a shipment of antique furniture had been stolen from Knockturn Alley, suspected to have been stolen and sold by Dark wizards...
These were trivial matters, but the last entry caught Kingsley's attention: "The golden reporter Skeeter reports: Memory mirrors have appeared in pubs across the country, suspected of imitating Muggle products and possibly having uncontrollable effects..."
The handwriting was recent, as if added that very morning. Kingsley looked away, lost in thought.
The night before, in the pub, he had also suspected that Umbridge might make a scandal out of this novelty. He had asked Old Tom about it during casual conversation and learned that it was a new gadget created by a Hogwarts professor.
Considering Dumbledore's connections, he decided to help the professor first and then contact the Headmaster.
The Auror Captain and the trainee Auror began chatting.
"Tonks, Umbridge was promoted recently. Do you think she has fully taken over the Misuse of Magic Office?"
"Well... although I hate her, to be honest, she manages it pretty well."
"No, Tonks, if she fully takes over the office, things won't go well. With Umbridge's desperate need for credit, her meddling in specific matters will only ruin the Security Department. Do you remember the little magical teapot leak incident last time? She was the one who spread the rumor, making wizards all over the world talk about the imminent danger of the wizarding world..." Kingsley's voice was calm and firm. "Do you want things to continue like that?"
"Of course not, Captain. What should I do?"
"Don't report things that can't yet be confirmed, and don't let her see unverified news. And if she asks? If she wants to see it herself?"
"Remember your stealth training? If you don't want to be discovered, you need to draw your target's attention by making their environment more noticeable. You need to keep Umbridge busy. Fill her schedule, keep her occupied, make her review documents, patrol. She loves to boast about her achievements, so let her spend her time dealing with Ministers, pure-blood families, and journalists..."
After receiving the advice of the senior Auror captain, the trainee assistant Tonks was deeply moved and hurriedly jotted down the key points on parchment.
Is this Muggle political wisdom?
Learned, learned...
...
Hogwarts also returned to school today.
Hermione was packing in her dormitory.
She put on new pajamas, pulled out her spring and summer wizard's robe from her suitcase, hung it on a hanger, and placed it in the wardrobe. In the end, only some sweets and a few tubes of medicinal toothpaste remained in her suitcase. These were Christmas gifts for her roommates and some for the professors. Her parents said she had made friends at her new school and needed to thank those who had helped her.
The 12-year-old witch sighed silently.
It was convenient for her roommates; she could give them their gifts when they returned at night.
But how would she deliver them to Professor McGonagall and Professor Lewynter?
And what normal student would gift toothpaste?
"Ah..."
With mixed feelings, Hermione left the dormitory and went down to the Great Hall for the back-to-school dinner.
...
The richly decorated Christmas tree from the Great Hall had been moved to the courtyard, surrounding the frozen central fountain. A few sprigs of holly and ribbons still adorned the dome and the corridors. The school suddenly seemed alive again.
After a relatively long Christmas holiday, the students eagerly looked forward to the new term, chatting excitedly about their holiday experiences.
"My distant aunt visited us this year, and I'd be surprised if even a French witch like her didn't know Harry's name. Do you know why?"
"Why, why?"
Because The Three Broomsticks were showing images of his matches!
And the Leaky Cauldron was all over the newspaper's front page. My father and grandfather went there every night, and my grandmother even gave them a scolding for it.
In the seat of honor, Melvin flipped through The Daily Prophet with great interest. The article by special reporter Rita Skeeter was inevitably a little extreme, aiming to stir emotions, but some passages did strike key points. This illegal Animagus hadn't studied communication systematically, but her professional experience had sharpened her instincts, almost intuitively.
Perhaps she could help with publicity or something in the future.
He was considering cooperating with the reporter when several senior students, all Quidditch players, approached him, led by Cedric, smiling. "Professor Lewynter, we're here to thank you."
"Oh? Thank me for what?" Melvin closed the newspaper.
"Thanks to your mirror, Professor, many team managers have seen recordings of our matches and have sent us tryouts," Cedric explained briefly. "Me, Roger from Ravenclaw, Captain Wood from Gryffindor, and Flint from Slytherin..."
Flint, the Slytherin captain, was burly, with prominent teeth and a rather unpleasant demeanor. Even now, trying to smile at the professor, he still looked a little intimidating.
Although they had lost the match against Gryffindor, his rough tactics caught the attention of Argentina, who said they fit perfectly with their strategy of absolute dominance and invited him to try out for the youth team.
"We're all very grateful, Professor."
"It's your own skill," said Melvin with a smile as he reviewed the situation, encouraging them to study hard and consider a professional career after graduation. He also obtained the contact information of several teams.
After watching the students return to their house table, he looked around. Hagrid was whispering to Professor Kettleburn. The other three Heads of House were chatting and laughing about broomstick changes for the team. Professor Snape sat alone to one side, and Professor Quirrell was still absent.
Melvin looked up at the magical dome. It was dark and windy that night, a bad omen.
Dumbledore noticed his concern and turned toward him. "Don't worry. I've spoken with the elder centaurs and the unicorn leader. The centaurs patrol the Forbidden Forest every night. The unicorns are safe."
"And what about Quirrell?"
"We'll have to get Harry and the others to speed up their investigation..."
Dumbledore paused and looked him sincerely in the eyes. "We need a professor to secretly guide their investigation. Who do you think would be suitable?"
Melvin, unable to grasp his gaze, turned and saw the three first-year students at the Gryffindor table, huddled together, talking.
The young witch frowned, as if complaining about the two boys playing around too much and failing to discover clues throughout the holidays.
The other two students who had stayed on campus looked helpless but couldn't refute her.
(End of chapter)
This is the last chapter I'll be translating. I did a promotion to promote the rest of the completed chapters on Patreon. Happy holidays!