A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

Chapter 114: The Ministry of Magic

On the 4th of February, a Saturday, at half-past nine in the morning.

Felix Harp was impeccably dressed, standing by the fireplace, his figure disappearing into a burst of bright green flames as he stepped into the office.

When Felix emerged from the public fireplace, he found himself in Diagon Alley.

Diagon Alley was the most famous magical commercial district in the British wizarding world. It was home to numerous renowned shops, pubs, offices, and large enterprises.

Gringotts Wizarding Bank, the Leaky Cauldron, the Daily Prophet Headquarters, and stores closely related to young wizards like Ollivanders, Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, Flourish and Blotts, and the Apothecary, among others, were all located here.

But Felix was merely passing through. He brushed off the dust from his robe with his hat and, in the next moment, he apparated using the Disapparition spell to a dim, narrow alley.

As Felix exited the alley, he found himself standing on a seemingly desolate street. There were a few shabby low-rise office buildings, a small tavern, and a dusty vintage car.

He walked a distance and arrived at a red telephone booth against the wall. It looked quite dilapidated, with large patches of red paint peeling off and several shards of broken glass. Only someone slightly more daring than normal would consider stepping inside to investigate.

But Felix entered. He picked up the crooked receiver hanging off the hook and dialed the number "62442," waiting quietly.

After a few seconds, the voice of an indifferent woman echoed within the telephone booth.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and the nature of your visit."

Felix calmly stated, "Felix Harp, invited to attend the commendation ceremony of Damocles Belby."

"Thank you," the woman's cold voice responded, "Guest, please pick up the badge and wear it on your clothing."

A square silver badge slid out of the coin slot, bearing the inscription: Felix Harp, invited visitor.

"As a guest of the Ministry, you are required to undergo security checks at the checkpoint and register your wand. The checkpoint is located at the end of the Atrium."

Felix pinned the badge to his robe. At this moment, he wondered, is this woman truly real?

But the floor of the telephone booth suddenly trembled, and he slowly sank into the ground. After about a minute, the booth came to a stop.

"The Ministry of Magic hopes you have a pleasant day," the woman's voice said.

The door swung open abruptly, and Felix stepped out, facing a magnificent golden hall.

He walked on the polished dark floor, with a row of gilded fireplaces inset on both sides of the walls. This was the official means of commuting for members of the Ministry of Magic.

Perhaps due to the weekend, the crowd was not too dense, but there were still a few wizards bustling about in groups of twos and threes. A young man with a face full of acne walked past him, clutching a stack of precarious parchment in his arms.

Felix gazed at his back, wondering if he knew the person just now?

He shook his head, passing the central fountain in the hallway, and approached a desk. Behind the desk sat a wizard in a peacock-blue robe, his unshaven beard showing his lack of concern for grooming.

A sign above his head read "Security Check."

Felix tapped the table with his fingernail. "Good morning, sir. I've come to register my wand." The wizard lifted his head and put down his copy of the Daily Prophet.

"Come over here," the wizard said in a lackluster tone.

Felix approached him, and the wizard raised a long golden rod, thin like a car antenna. He swept it from top to bottom across Felix's front and back.

"Wand," the security wizard muttered, extending his hand.

Felix flicked his wrist, and a wand popped out from his sleeve.

The wizard blinked, "I've seen quite a few Aurors hide their wands that way. Are you a new Auror?"

"I work at Hogwarts," Felix replied briefly.

"Oh, goodness, that's a great job..." The wizard's demeanor became much more enthusiastic. "I'm Eric Munch, in charge of security checks most of the time, and occasionally doing some guard duty."

"Felix, you can call me that."josei

Eric tossed the wand onto a brass contraption that looked like a scale. The contraption started vibrating slightly.

The wizard was in the midst of conversation, "What do you teach? I heard Professor Kettleburn is retiring, is he still there? His classes are really terrible. When I was in school..."

"Mr. Munch," Felix interrupted, "Professor Kettleburn is still teaching young wizards. I'm responsible for Ancient Runes."

As far as he knew, Professor Kettleburn was indeed retiring, but his successor was ready—Rubeus Hagrid.

Dumbledore was actively working on exonerating Hagrid and restoring his reputation. However, it seemed to be progressing less smoothly, as the culprit of the Chamber of Secrets had not been caught yet. Felix was planning to discreetly get rid of the diary at the right time.

But this matter had to come after Dobby. If there were any mishaps in between, he might not get to meet the clumsy little house-elf.

In truth, restoring Hagrid's reputation and appointing professors were things Dumbledore could handle himself. He just needed to casually mention it at some evening gathering. However, for Hagrid to be allowed to use a wand openly, the approval of the Ministry of Magic was required.

And the Ministry of Magic was known for its stubbornness.

"Beep, beep!" A narrow piece of parchment swiftly ejected from the opening at the base of the brass contraption. Eric tore the paper off and read the words on it.

"Thirteen inches, blackthorn wood, dragon heartstring core, ten years of use. Is that correct?"

"Very accurate," Felix said calmly.

"I'll keep this," the wizard said, sticking the strip of parchment onto a small brass nail. "You take this back." He reached out and grabbed the wand.

"Thank you."

"Wait a moment," Eric's hand, suspended mid-air, stopped. Across the table, he carefully inspected the badge on Felix's chest.

He said slowly, "I remember you mentioned earlier, your name is Felix, Felix Harp? The one who contributed to the '87 Dueling Agreement..."

Eric Munch's nose turned slightly rosy, his nostrils flaring excitedly, as if he had just spotted something remarkable.

"Could you share more about it? I mean, that's one of the 28 Pure-bloods! Though I'm not a fan of them—I'm a half-blood—still, they've been around for centuries, and they have some merit. But now one of them has permanently left Britain. It's such a pity..." He went on and on.

Felix calmly extended his hand. The ebony-like wand in the wizard's hand flew into his own hand with a whoosh. "I'm pressed for time. We can chat another time." He nodded at Eric Munch and turned to leave.

Felix took the elevator to the second floor and followed the room numbers as instructed. He passed by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, Improper Use of Magic Office, Fraudulent and Counterfeit Spell Products Investigative Office, and finally found the office of Wizengamot Affairs.

On the left side of the office were two large oak doors swung open inward, looking quite heavy. A conspicuous sign hung on the door—Chamber 3.

As Felix approached, a very familiar voice with drawn-out tones came from inside: "The smell of potions is not important. My personal preference is to increase the dose of monkshood..."

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