Chapter 319 If at Night, a Senior Investigator

Whoever flushed Myrtle away, at least wasn't wandering the halls stupidly. Anthony walked through the moonlit corridor, passed by a row of quiet armors, opened a few doors, and checked if there were any hiding students. He only heard a few portraits talking in low voices, discussing a picture on the third floor. The landscape painting was moved from its original location.

"Violet was so angry that she didn't speak all afternoon." said a slender and sharp witch.

The bald wizard exclaimed: "Really!"

A wizard with a walrus beard said: "She wanted to go for a walk in the woods to hear what was happening recently, but she found that the opposite side of the frame had turned into a statue - you know, the statue of the one-eyed witch, there No one passed by at all - Violet waited all morning and only heard discussions about summoning spells and O.W.Ls exams."

The bald wizard sympathized with him and said, "That's really unfortunate. I quite like the idea of ​​the two red-haired boys letting the snake knock on the door... Why can't people stand under the picture frame every day and chat about secrets?"

Anthony left quietly. He thought he knew where the forty points the Weasley twins had been deducted came from.

…

When he returned to the corridor on the second floor, Anthony felt that he had just experienced a wonderful hide-and-seek game, so he was in a good mood.

He hadn't met any students, so he assumed that Filch, Snape or Umbridge hadn't met either.

He knocked on the door of Myrtle's bathroom. Apart from the empty knocking sound that echoed through the walls, the only sound he could hear was the dripping of water on the floor. He also checked the Room of Requirement and the abandoned bathroom where Tracy brewed the potion, but deliberately ignored the kitchen. If the person responsible for washing away myrtle is enjoying a plate of chips, you can only say that he is a lucky guy.

He walked briskly to the door of his office, took out the key, and inserted it into the keyhole. At this moment, he suddenly heard something, as if a dozen old Roger snakes were playing hissing Parseltongue together.

Anthony stopped and listened carefully, but the voice did not appear again. As he was wondering where it was coming from, something even weirder happened. Umbridge came out of Myrtle's bathroom.

What surprised Anthony was not Umbridge herself, but her pale face. In the flickering light of the torch, she looked like another ghost floating out of the bathroom.

"Good evening?" Anthony asked softly.

There was silence in response to him. Umbridge stopped and turned her head to look at his position.

Anthony almost immediately regretted speaking out. He felt extremely weird, but he couldn't tell what it was for. It was like someone would suddenly have an inexplicable urge in a dark alley, telling people to quickly escape from the weird trash cans and the slowly crawling on the ground. plastic bag.

"Oh, Professor Anthony." Umbridge looked at him, "What are you doing here?"

The weird feeling disappeared.

"I'm getting ready to go back to my office," Anthony said, "as you can see."

Umbridge looked at the wooden door behind Anthony carefully: "Okay." She nodded slightly, maintained a polite expression of suspicion, and continued walking towards the stairs.

"Wait a minute, Ms. Umbridge," said Anthony. "Myrtle said she met a student who went out at night and she was flushed down the toilet. I want to know - can you tell me - you Have you seen this student, Ms. Umbridge?"

"Unfortunately, no." Umbridge turned around and said sweetly, "Also, I do think it is very important to teach students to abide by the rules. Please maintain such enthusiasm, Professor Anthony -"

"In that case, is there anything worth noting in the girls' bathroom?"

Umbridge raised her eyebrows.

"It might be more appropriate to ask the ghost who lives inside," she said, sounding more impatient than she should have been. "Or, ask yourself. This isn't the first time I've seen you poking around here. ”

Anthony studied her. Didn't she hear that weird, evil hiss? It was only then that he noticed that Umbridge's pink coat looked a little wrinkled, and the big bow on her head was missing. There was some muddy stuff on her leather shoes, which made Filch's cheeks tremble violently.

"Oh, okay," Anthony said, "Have a nice night."

"You too, Professor Anthony." Umbridge said in a high-pitched voice.

Anthony watched her leave the hallway.

"Who is that?" a voice sounded behind him.

"Myrtle!" Anthony turned around and saw the ghost's translucent head emerging from the bathroom door, looking in the direction Umbridge left.

Myrtle flew out of the bathroom and asked: "Who is she, Professor Anthony?" She circled around Anthony twice and said happily, "Haha, she is so ugly! She will be laughed at all her life. !”

…

Nothing more out of the ordinary happened during the rest of the Easter holiday. The weather is getting warmer day by day, and the spring sun is shining brightly on the Black Lake. Anthony spent a lot of time wandering into the restricted areas of the library, or diving into the Room of Requirement, hiding from everyone's sight, as if he was actually plotting some ulterior conspiracy.

After school started again, Lockhart's Lock Your Heart Club immediately held another event in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. When Anthony passed by there, he just saw Umbridge walk out the door with a gloomy face, shutting out Lockhart's cheerful voice behind him. She gave Anthony a hypocritical smile, carrying her pink bag, and disappeared at the end of the corridor.

"She came to the Charms classroom today." Professor Flitwick told Anthony at dinner. "I was preparing those crows and frogs, and she walked in and started asking me some irrelevant questions-would you like pumpkin juice?"

Anthony sighed: "What does she want to do again?" He glanced at the other end of the staff seat. Umbridge hadn't come to dinner yet. Only Filch lowered his head and said something with satisfaction to the skinny Mrs. Norris, probably talking about the fact that Roger the old snake was completely banned. Mrs. Norris was concentrating on tearing a napkin.

"I don't know, but she'd better not mess with Minerva." Professor Flitwick's eyes sparkled with joy, and he took a bite of apple pie, "Minerva's temper has been bad recently."

Anthony asked with concern: "What's wrong with Minerva?" He also took a piece of apple pie, and was satisfied to find that it still maintained the steaming, sweet and delicious state when it was just out of the oven.

"It's still the same as before," Professor Flitwick said happily, "busy, teaching classes, dealing with students who violated the rules, dealing with most of the letters sent to the principal's office, counting the third-year course selections of second-year students, attending the Transfiguration Academic Conference, yelling at Wood..."

"What are you talking about?" Professor McGonagall asked, pulling out a chair and sitting on the left side of Professor Flitwick, "Good evening, Filius, Henry. Oh, fried potatoes with butter."

"Yes, do you want some?" Professor Flitwick pushed the plate of golden fried potatoes to Professor McGonagall. Anthony took another piece of apple pie.

"Thank you. By the way, Henry, the list of students who will take Muggle Studies next year has been compiled. I have sent owls to you and Caridi. Remember to tell me your grade arrangement next semester."

Anthony nodded: "No problem, thank you, Minerva."

"Will Dolores be with us next semester?" Professor Flitwick asked.

Professor McGonagall said a little tiredly: "I don't know. What happened to her?"

So Anthony and Professor Flitwick told her what happened.

"It seems that she has decided to resume her investigation - whatever it is." Professor McGonagall said, "She also asked me to discuss it in detail in my office tomorrow. Let's see what the result will be."

"An angry vice-president?" Professor Flitwick suggested.

"An office that has experienced war?" Anthony echoed.

"A senior investigator who escaped?" Professor Flitwick guessed.

"More likely a bunch of complaints against Albus," said Professor McGonagall, with a straight face. "He shouldn't have agreed to that ridiculous request in the first place! I really don't understand - Peter Pettigrew died in Azkaban, killed by the Ministry of Magic and their own Dementors, and they acted like Albus was silencing him!"

"What?" Professor Flitwick said in surprise, even stopping his knife and fork.

Anthony took the opportunity to pick up the last piece of apple pie.

...

After returning to the office, Anthony found two owls waiting for him outside the window. One of them, as expected, brought the list of third-year courses for the next semester. The other brought a note that read:

"Dear Professor Henry Anthony:

"I noticed that you did not respond to the last survey report that required a response. (Anthony recalled that he probably stuffed it into a drawer after reading the score, and never read the "according to a certain decree" or "please be informed" at the back.) In view of this, I must have a face-to-face conversation with you to clarify some issues.

"I hereby invite you to discuss this in detail in my office at 2pm this Wednesday. Refusal will be regarded as an intention to obstruct the Ministry's legitimate investigation.

"I hope you will be on time for the appointment.

"Yours sincerely,

"Dolores Jane Umbridge

"(Senior Undersecretary of the Ministry of Magic, Senior Inquisitor of Hogwarts)"

Anthony reached out to drive away the covetous owl and put the wraith mouse in his pocket. The owl pecked at him in dissatisfaction and was driven away by the flying wraith chicken.

The wraith chicken fluttered down on the table, stretched its neck, tilted its head to study the note sent by Umbridge, and made a low cooing sound.

"Not good news, chicken." Anthony said, shouting across the room, "Cat, do you want a piece of paper to tear?"