Chapter 189 You Have to Feel Pain Before You Understand What Sharpness Is

Dumbledore felt as at home back at the Ministry of Magic.

In other words, people like him can quickly control the home court wherever they go.

Fudge's face didn't look very good. Dumbledore is like the Pope in the Middle Ages. As long as he exists, Fudge, the Minister of Magic, will always exist in name only and will not be respected!

Just like now, when Fudge proposed to hold the Quidditch World Cup as originally planned, many people present showed doubts. But as soon as Dumbledore opened his mouth, those people immediately changed their attitudes and simply did not use his magic cloth. Minister Bu takes it seriously!

Fudge really wanted to slam the table hard and tell Dumbledore loudly:

I am the Minister of Magic!

But he didn't dare.

How dare he openly disobey the greatest wizard?

"Look, since Albus said so, I think you won't have any other opinions." Fudge had a rich and kind expression on his face, as if he and Dumbledore were so close. Infinitely.

But he looked at Dumbledore again, with a troubled expression on his face.

"Albus, please take a seat."

He took the initiative to stand up, gave up his seat to Dumbledore, then showed a sad expression, and said sincerely: "As for the Triwizard Tournament, I think - it's best to say goodbye... You know what happened to Barty Right? He went to France and never came back, poor old guy..."

Barty Crouch Sr. was naturally killed after Voldemort was resurrected.

Neither Voldemort nor Barty Jr. would let him go.

Dumbledore had already learned about this from Harry, but officials in the Ministry of Magic thought Crouch had died in an assassination attempt by the Death Eaters he had tried.

Although Barty Crouch Sr. was considered to be doing whatever it takes to gain power due to his trial of his own son, his current ending is unavoidably disappointing. So much time has passed and even the body has not been found. For this reason, there are many Everyone feels a little sad.

"Is the Department of Magical International Affairs currently being replaced by Deputy Minister Dolores?" When Fudge said this, a middle-aged woman wearing pink pursed her lips sweetly and pretended to cough for a moment or two. It felt like there was a mouthful of disgusting thick phlegm stuck in the throat.

She immediately attracted everyone's attention. The bright colors were a bit out of place in the magical world where black, white and gray were the main colors. It could even be said to be eye-catching!

Dumbledore glanced at her, his expression calm.

"Hello, Ms. Umbridge."

"Hello, Mr. Dumbledore." Umbridge raised her voice and spoke in an uncomfortable tone. Even Scrimgeour and others who had been working with her for a while could not help but frown. , showing a bored expression.

But Dumbledore was very self-restrained. He always smiled and looked at Umbridge kindly.

"I'm really sorry about the Triwizard Tournament, but now, we must put safety first." Umbridge's annoying eyes flashed with malice, "So, it's best to stop it. "

"That's terrible," Dumbledore looked embarrassed. In fact, he had already thought of a countermeasure. He knew what Fudge wanted. As for Umbridge, she was just a loudspeaker for Fudge.

"Look, we proposed the Triwizard Tournament on our own initiative, and we have reached an agreement with Durmstrang and Bubbaston. They have been preparing for it for several months. If it is stopped now, Knowing what the International Federation of Wizards will think of us, I'm afraid they will think that the British Ministry of Magic has done nothing, changes orders every day, and the officials of the Ministry of Magic are incompetent..."

The faces of Fudge and Umbridge immediately lost their composure.

"But in turn, if the Triwizard Tournament is successful enough, the reputation of the Ministry of Magic will also be improved. Connelly, we all know that the performance of our team members over the years has not been so satisfactory. I think people I would like to see an exciting victory after losing the team!”

"Are you confident of winning? Even if Ilvermorny Magic School joins the Triwizard Tournament?" Fudge couldn't help but ask.

"I have always had confidence in the students of Hogwarts." Dumbledore nodded.

Fudge was obviously moved.

Compared with the Quidditch World Cup, which is held every four years, the Triwizard Tournament, which was obviously discontinued hundreds of years ago, is more eye-catching. At that time, Cornelius Fudge's name will not only leave a term of office in the history of the British wizarding world, but will also read:

Cornelius Oswald Fudge became the British Minister of Magic in 1990. During his tenure, he worked hard to revive the ancient tradition of the Triwizard Tournament and led it together with Albus Dumbledore. Hogwarts is victorious!

"Ahem, okay," Fudge nodded, "I think you have a point, Albus. But I hope Hogwarts can win."

"This is our common expectation." Dumbledore nodded. He stood up and was about to leave, but stopped when he was about to step out of the door, as if he suddenly remembered something.

"By the way, the letter said that before the World Cup starts, the Magic Congress will send people to the Ministry of Magic for negotiation and negotiation. The specific time will be notified separately."

After saying this, Dumbledore really left.

At the same time, Cyrus also went to the Magical Congress of the United States to prepare for this Triwizard Tournament.

American wizards are very different from British wizards. In Britain, wizards live in isolation. Most of them live in remote countryside, and only a few live in remote towns mixed with Muggles.

Even then, they would keep Muggles away from their houses and avoid contact with Muggles.

But most wizards in the American wizarding world live in cities, and even the Magical Congress is located in the Woolworth Building.

No one knew whether those people in suits and ties, carrying briefcases at their waists and hurriedly walking into the Woolworth Building with their heads lowered, were government officials or wizards.

Cyrus did not wear a wizard robe today, but put on a light suit. He is tall and tall, and his handsome appearance makes people look at him, but his slightly arrogant look makes people afraid to approach him.

It was as if he was a sun, a ball of fire, and would only burn people if touched!

There is an endless stream of people coming and going at the entrance of the Woolworth Building, but most of them are middle-aged and elderly people in their forties, fifties or even older. Young people like Sellers are rare.

But no one seemed to think there was anything wrong with Cyrus's presence here.

It was as if he was born noble and should have been the master of power!

The door to the building is enchanted, and only wizards can enter another dimension and reach the Magical Congress.

He recited a spell, and the originally plain door turned into a door with an owl sculpture carved on it.

Of course, this magic does not work every time. Occasionally, some Muggles - known as No-Majs in the United States - will enter the Magic Congress by mistake. At this time, the wizards will give him a forgetting spell and then send him out.

As soon as Cyrus entered the door, he saw a huge and spacious square.

In the center of the square is a gray hollow tower.

The tower is not very high, but whenever the sun rises, sunlight will shine through the glass of the Woolworth Building, passing through the hollow space of the tower, as if it is a sacred road to heaven.

Golden sunlight shone in Cyrus' hair, making his whole body look like it was glowing.

The witch who received the visitors at the Magical Congress was stunned for a while. It took a while before she came back to her senses and said to Cyrus: "Sir, visitors need to register their wands."

Cyrus held out his wand.

The female receptionist picked up the wand and looked at it, frowned immediately, then picked up her wand and clicked on a book page from a distance. The book immediately began to flip through the pages quickly, and soon it was flipped from the beginning to the end without stopping for a moment.

The receptionist's eyebrows knitted together and he tried again, but the result was still no different.

This time, her tone was a little stiffer.

"Sorry, this wand doesn't seem to be registered, I need to see your wand license. If you don't have one, then I'll have to contact the Aurors."

In the American wizarding community, all wizards must obtain a license before they can hold a wand. Due to historical reasons - a large number of European wizards and Muggle immigrants in the 17th century - this land was once very chaotic. The purifiers kidnapped wizards or No-Majs everywhere and caused a lot of destruction.

To this end, the Magical Congress introduced regulations for wand licenses, which to a certain extent reduced the number of raging Purifiers.

"This is one of the reasons why I came to Magical Congress, ma'am." Cyrus didn't have a permit, but he didn't care at all. Rules are a game for the strong. It's a mercy that he is willing to follow the rules now.

If the people from the Magic Congress wanted to make things difficult for him, Cyrus could be tougher.

Anyway, the entire Magical Congress combined is no match for him.

"I obtained this ancient wand from Ilvermorny not long ago, but I haven't had time to register it yet."

"Ilvermorny? An ancient wand?" The lady who received Cyrus immediately widened her eyes.

She suddenly remembered the news published in the "New York Ghost" not long ago, saying that someone had inherited the ancient Slytherin wand and became the successor of Ilvermorny. Moreover, this news has been confirmed by many aspects. The only pity is that the reporter did not take a picture of the heir's face.

Now it seems that the dark green wand in her hand does look a little unusual.

It is slightly curved like a snake. The head of the snake is the handle of the wand, and the tail is the tip of the wand. The snake head is exquisite and realistic, and the eyes seem to be inlaid with gems.

It seems like it will come alive at any moment and bite me back!

She had always been inseparable from Cyrus's eyes, and now she wanted to grow them directly on Cyrus's body: "So, you are Cyrus, the new headmaster of Ilvermorny?"

Her eyes were half suspicious.

It's no wonder, after all, Cyrus looks too young.

He seemed to be in his teens, with green and tender skin, and his handsome appearance was enough to make Cyrus a superstar in the No-Maj world.

The female receptionist would rather believe that Cyrus was a certain female official, or even a sweetheart kept by a male official, but found it difficult to believe that he was actually the principal of a magic academy.

"Sorry sir, I have to confirm first..." the female receptionist said in a panic.

But just as she was about to pick up the phone, another voice interrupted her.

"Don't bother, Kathleen."

A man wearing a white shirt and a suit vest walked over from a distance. He put his hands in his trouser pockets and looked very capable. His body under the shirt was strong, and it was obvious at a glance that he was a wizard who was good at dueling.

Cyrus narrowed his eyes, and he always felt that the man's facial features looked familiar.

"Mr. Graves!"

The receptionist called Catherine stood up in surprise when she saw the man coming, and bowed to him respectfully. Cyrus, who heard the surname, also guessed the identity of the man in front of him.

More than half a century ago, Grindelwald had disguised himself and lurked in the Magic Congress. The name of the wizard he disguised at that time was Percival Graves.

Obviously, this man is the descendant of Percival Graves.

"Gareth Graves." The man walked up to Cyrus and extended his hand. His attitude was a little arrogant, as if he looked down on Cyrus. "You are the one who inherited Ilvermorny?"

"Cyrus." Cyrus didn't care about Graves' attitude. On the contrary, he actually had some expectations.

The rise of the Magical Congress of the United States was as fast as this country. Although its history was short, its influence in the magic world was growing. In comparison, the old British Ministry of Magic had already been in decline, like an old man, emitting a rotten smell.

It just so happened that Cyrus came from the UK, and there must be someone in the Magical Congress who didn't like him.

Strong rises are always accompanied by arrogance, not to mention a behemoth like the Magical Congress. Although Cyrus's current identity was recognized by the teachers and students of the school, not everyone in the Congress recognized his identity.

There would always be some people who didn't know what was good for them and would come to trouble him.

In fact, it would be a good thing if there were really people who didn't know what was good for them and came to trouble them. It was just right to defeat them all in one breath!

They must first feel pain, and then they will know what is sharp!

Since Cyrus plans to develop from North America, he does not want some discordant voices to appear internally. He does not want to be like Dumbledore, who is clearly preparing to go to war with Voldemort, but the Ministry of Magic not only does not become a help, but becomes an obstacle.

At this moment, Cyrus narrowed his eyes and waited for Graves to attack him.

But unexpectedly, Graves only glanced at the snakewood wand still in Catherine's hand, then raised his chin slightly, indicating Catherine to return the wand.

"I should have taken you to the Federal Wand Permit Issuing Office first, but the situation is more urgent, so it is better for us to go to the Serious Case Investigation Department first."

Catherine blushed and was about to hand the wand back, when another rough voice suddenly sounded.

"Wait!"

The voice was very loud, echoing in the empty hall of the Magic Congress, attracting the astonished attention of all the hurried office staff.

Cyrus looked in the direction of the sound and saw a middle-aged man in a windbreaker with a hideous scar on his face and a gloomy expression. He was striding towards them with several wizards. It was obvious that they had bad intentions.