This Hogwarts is not normal

Most of the prisoners in Azkaban would feel that life would be worse than death, but neither suicide nor hunger strike is useless.

Dementors will not only prevent suicide in advance, but also feed them very sweetly.

Their food is pleasure, all positive emotions.

If the prisoner is dead, it can only suck the soul.

Although it can have a full meal, it cannot be sustainable.

Work dutifully and bury dead prisoners.

No salary, no rest.

There really isn't a better guard than a dementor.

After Fudge and the others entered the 13th floor, the prisoners here laughed even more wantonly.

Quirrell, who came in last year, was lying on the plank bed, watching him dumbfounded and laughing.

"Hey hey hey~"

Umbridge's bulbous eyes stared at him immediately.

"Aha~ ahba~ ah hehe~"

His innocent smile paired with this devilish laughter made even the paralyzed Dawlish frown.

Fudge, expressionless, walked forward.

It's just a small scene.

"Boom—" A prisoner with disheveled hair knocked his head on the fence.

He reached out and grabbed Fudge's sleeve, "It's you! It's the Minister of Magic!"

"Ha--hahahaha--" Sharp laughter suddenly flooded the entire cell.

"Rodolphus Lestrange," Fudge broke free with a little effort,

"Seeing that you are so energetic, I can rest assured."

Rodolphs who fell on the ground quickly got up, his pale and thin face became ferocious.

Fudge shook his head contemptuously, and walked on.

"You will definitely go to hell!"

Umbridge didn't dare to stare this time, but followed quietly.

Quirrell is nothing more than a smart guy now, and Rodolphus is a notorious Death Eater.

"Fudge — Fudge —"

Hearing the muttering, Fudge slowed down.

It was a woman with a haggard face and a haggard face.

Her lips are thin, her eyelids are thick and her eyelashes are long.

Maybe she used to be a beautiful woman, but now she looks like a crazy woman.

"Fudge!" Her hands were only grasping the fence, "tell me if the great Dark Lord has returned!"

"Bellatrix Lestrange," Fudge's eyes were particularly cold,

"He's dead, to the Killing Curse bounced off Harry Potter."

"Liar!" Bellatrix squeezed her face to the gap in the fence, trying to look at the cell closest to the stairs,

"I can smell the newcomer on him, you can't fool me!"

The reason why Quirrell became what he is now is because Voldemort once lodged his soul in his body.

The sullenness on Fudge's face disappeared quickly, "Listen to me, that monster will never come back."

"fraud!"

He ignored Bellatrix's frenzied screams and walked from cell to cell.

Faced with one after another of verbal abuse and curses, Umbridge almost yelled back one by one.

It is not without reason that she became the deputy minister.

Near the end of the level, a prison cell attracted Fudge's attention.

Not only did the prisoners inside not swear loudly, nor did they make all kinds of magical laughter.

He just sat quietly on the plank bed, looking up at the ceiling in a daze. …."What are you looking at?"

"Nothing."

Fudge recognized the thin, haggard face.

Umbridge recognized it, too, "Sirius Black, watch your attitude.

Standing in front of him was the current Minister of Magic. "

"I know." Sirius looked back at the ceiling, which was obviously more attractive to him.

"Damn Death Eaters!"

Fudge seemed to be unable to hear Umbridge's yelling, and seemed very interested in his performance.

"Blake, are you bored?"

"Listening to those lunatics screaming outside day after day, I almost went crazy with them."

Sirius is as different as Quirrell.

Witch scum like Tash and Slade can only stay on the 12th floor, and those who are lucky enough to live on the top floor are all vicious dark wizards who have been sentenced to life imprisonment.

Quirrell's brain has problems, but Sirius is extraordinarily normal compared to other prisoners.

Sensing Fudge's attitude, Umbridge made a 180-degree face change,

"Minister, under the enlightened reform policy you promoted, two heinous prisoners began to confess everything about themselves."

Her eyes were moist, "You have accomplished what previous ministers failed to accomplish, and you have opened a new great chapter in the magic world."

"Ahem——" Fudge coughed in embarrassment,

"Tell me, Blake, what would you like to do with your boredom."

Sirius' eyes were puzzled at first, and then looked at him in a daze,

"Mr. Minister, all I need is a newspaper."

No sooner had Fudge reached out than Umbridge pulled a copy of the Daily Prophet from her pink bag.

"I hope you're doing well, Blake."

"I will." Sirius didn't look grateful, but stood up numbly to catch the newspaper.

Umbridge showed a bright smile that he thought was good-looking,

"Minister, I suggest that you write today's inspection into an article so that more wizards will know about your great deeds."

Fudge's eyes lit up.

Some time ago, it almost became an international joke, but this one can restore its reputation.

He said to keep a low profile, but his body hastily returned the same way.

After they left, Sirius looked down at the newspaper in his hand.

The family portrait of the Weasleys in Egypt is particularly prominent.

"What!?" His expression suddenly became angry, and his hands were tightly clutching the newspaper, as if he wanted to tear it into pieces.

Dawlish, who was walking at the back, didn't notice anything unusual, and neither did the dementors who hid for inspection.

……

……

When she returned to the Ministry of Magic, Rita had been sitting in the lobby waiting for almost a morning.

Without saying a word, she walked over with a small notebook.

"Oh! Isn't this our big reporter!"

Fudge, who originally wanted to show his face and went to the newspaper office, was extraordinarily enthusiastic.

Rita keenly sensed that something was wrong.

The only wizard she didn't hide from in the whole British Isles was an underage wizard.

For the rest, it's either playing her mind, or it's still her mind.

The opponent is the Minister of Magic, and the real purpose is not difficult to guess.

"Come and sit in my office." Fudge kindly invited, and of course she agreed very ladylikely.

Take a sip of black tea and eat some delicate desserts.

There is nothing to be courteous, and it is either a traitor or a thief.

But Rita was Rita after all, and she wasn't afraid at all.

As Umbridge's face became more and more ugly, she restrained herself a little.

Fudge put down his teacup, "You big reporter has a good nose."

Rita returned a self-confident smile,

"Minister Fudge, if a media person doesn't have a sense of smell that ordinary people don't have, can he still be regarded as a qualified media person?"

"A very sharp response." Fudge smiled,

"Then as a qualified media person, I think you have no reason to reject a big news."

Big news means traffic, and traffic means fame.

"Mr. Minister, please tell me." Rita opened her small notebook.

……

……

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Qingmo Daxian reminds you: remember to collect after reading