Chapter 688: fireplace
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Chapter 690 Fireplace (for double the monthly pass!)
Rita Skeeter walked into the meeting room, half nervous and half excited. She looked around. Several important people and well-known pens were there—the fat executive, the serious old woman who favored her, the competitor Melissa , and two or three standouts in their respective subjects, one of whom she knew had a well-written obituary.
Their faces were solemn, as if something major had happened.
"Rita, you're here," said the serious woman kindly, with several letters in front of her, one of which had been opened. "How's the rest? There are no sequelae, after all, those strange magics?"
"It's much better," Skeeter said vaguely. "I slept and felt fine. Oh, yes," she took two manuscripts from her crocodile bag. "I wrote this."
The woman took it in surprise.
"This is my review of yesterday's events. Because I'm not sure about the attitude of the newspaper, I chose two angles to describe it." Skeeter said calmly.
"I'm very satisfied." The serious woman nodded, she flipped through it, and put down the manuscript without looking carefully. She put her hands on the table and leaned forward, "But things have changed now, we got this." One of her ringed hands tapped the envelope on the table, "and it happens to be about you."
"It's about me?" Skeeter repeated suspiciously.
The serious woman picked up the open letter and poured out a stack of folded letter paper and a small card. She pushed the small card in front of Rita Skeeter.
"Read and read."
Rita Skeeter scratched the card with the long fingernail of her pinky finger, and held it in her hand to read carefully the writing on it. At a glance, she found that the handwriting was messy and not formal enough. Thinking of what Haipu said last night, she guessed that it might have been transcribed by a certain student? She cleared her throat:
"The wizarding world is exposed. The adults are busy debating solutions, and my mother is worried and she doesn't want a conflict. A few friends and I decided to write to you - hopefully you'll realize that, aside from magic, our emotions are the same. .
Also: A Muggle-born friend of mine recognized the female reporter who appeared on the news. She was probably the first person to interview a wizard, right? So we send it to you. It's over, that's all I wrote above. "
Rita Skeeter looked up and saw that the reporters present were staring at her jealously, and she instantly realized that the title of 'first reporter to interview a wizard' had played a role. The serious woman didn't say anything, and pushed the opened letter over again.
Skeeter unfolded the letter and read it aloud in public. "I have a friend..." Only halfway through, she locked the sender's identity. The famous Harry Potter is known to everyone in the wizarding world. With the reappearance of the Dark Lord Voldemort, his two friends also became well-known. Unyielding was established as a model and received the Merlin Medal.
Through various clues, she determined that the letter came from the youngest son of the Weasley family, Ron Weasley.
"It's over?" the fat supervisor said still, "It's quite interesting, but some of the preambles don't fit the description." Several other reporters also nodded.
"It's over." Skeeter said dryly. She couldn't see anything interesting at all. If she had gotten the news early, she would have produced a series of controversial articles. can be in between.
A reporter was about to speak, but a serious woman stopped him.
"Read the letter in full, and we'll discuss it."
Rita Skeeter looked left and right, grabbed the second letter, tore it open, and read it out in public, "I have a friend..." Well, she thought, just after talking about the Savior in her mind, the Savior's letter appeared. , if it wasn't arranged by Haipu, she would dare to eat the parchment.
Then came the third and last letter, which Rita Skeeter read for a while, unable to guess who wrote it.
"...when it's hot and humid, I like to lie in the little garden.
The mistletoe branches divide the sky into small lattices, and the sky flows between the lattices, and the dust in the sun is suspended next to the white berries of the mistletoe. It is very beautiful, and maybe the goblins in the garden think so too. Goblins are not very good at talking, and aside from spitting and grimacing, their greatest pleasure is to carry home white berries. I left a boot in the garden as a kid in anticipation that they would move in someday, and then I built a house for them with my dad.
There are also vines planted in the garden. Often like dead tree stumps, this charming plant has surface pimples, with the occasional colorful scar (some say it's an infestation). Dad won't let me touch it, because the pimple vine is a fragile and kind plant. It can swept away the bad mood in the vicinity. The secret is the grapefruit-sized pod it produces.
'The bad moods hide in the pod and grow bigger and bigger until it can't hold it and burst itself. ' Dad said.
We observe the scene of the split pods in awe.
In the scorching sun, my father and I held lotus leaf umbrellas to prevent sweating. It usually takes a few hours before a popping sound is heard, the green skin cracks open, and a pale green, squiggly worm-like thing flows out of it. They would still wriggle at first, but gradually quieted down, making one wonder if they were dead, but Dad said it was just the bad emotions that came out of their shells and turned into annoying harassing flies.
The molefly is a noxious creature that floats into one's ears and messes up the brain. They can be invisible and when you hear the buzzing and then get irritated then that's proof they're there, dad developed a stalker siphon to deal with them, but the pimple vines make too many wormflies, we There must be another way.
The solution is to hold a special ceremony that looks like some kind of dance.
Fill your brain with happy emotions to briefly fend off the harassing flies, then dance your arms around your head while circling in circles—like trying to drive away mosquitoes. The purpose of this is to tell the harassing horsefly that my mind has been taken over by other emotions and I don't need you, so they fly away.
The ceremony is very tiring, but also very happy. In order to treat himself, my father usually cooks a pot of fish soup with colorful balls.
Dad was proficient in many recipes, and I helped catch fish in the creek. There are many kinds of ballfish, some are very dangerous, such as the bigmouth ballfish, if someone overfishes their kind, they will rush out of the water with their big mouths open to attack them, so I will take them with me when I catch fish. Bring some gardigans to prevent accidents like this from happening (I'll also keep some sage and mallow for fire divination, or other useful things like agaric)..."
Rita Skeeter stared at the outrageous words, they seemed so out of place, did something go wrong?
"Harassing the horsefly." The fat supervisor mused.
"A plant that absorbs bad moods," Melissa murmured.
"Does the dance that ordinary people practice to drive away harassing flies work?" another reporter asked.
Rita Skeeter was stunned. After a long time, the serious woman coughed twice to bring everyone back to their senses, and then she lit a lady's cigarette. The smoke lingered.
"Okay, that's what I said. The situation has changed." The serious woman sat upright and said, "At present, the whole country—no, it should be said that the whole world is in chaos. Many newspapers denounced yesterday's atrocities, and of course we also published them. A light-hearted critique... The reason for not rushing to take a surface is because we are special, Rita was lucky enough to have contact with wizards, and even she herself became excellent material, so I Waiting for her to come back and preparing to build a series of news around her."
Skeeter secretly rolled his eyes, knowing that this woman had tasted the benefits of the last gun ban.
"...difference, journalism can't follow others' opinions, it has to think for itself. But this is unusual. If wizards are defined as terrorists, we will probably get into trouble speaking for them, and when I am in a dilemma, I Received these letters. What do you think the newspaper should do? Give it to the authorities, or—"
"Absolutely not hand it over!" Everyone shouted in unison.
Serious woman smiles on tense face. "Very well, if anyone thinks so, I'll tell him to pack up and get out of the way. The question now is, what attitude should we take, and whether the contents of these letters are credible?"
Everyone bowed their heads and thought, and they all realized that this was an interview. Whoever said something more in line with their hearts, then the entire newspaper's resources would revolve around that person.
"Why don't we take a neutral attitude and forward these letters truthfully, so that we stay out of the way?" the fat supervisor said tentatively.
The serious woman looked at him.
"Perhaps to criticize euphemistically?" the fat director said uncertainly. "There is so little useful information at the moment. There are only a few letters with no beginning and no end. In case it is the conspiracy of those wizards..."
The serious woman was about to speak when Rita Skeeter interjected, "That's not ruled out." But then she asked back, "But does it matter to us?"
The serious woman glanced at her, "Tell me what you think."
"Whether there are any magical institutions involved - oh, from these letters, you should be able to see that wizards are an organized small society, not stragglers, they have schools, hospitals, law enforcement agencies, gathering areas..." Skeeter Pointing to the letter, he said, "Aside from the specifics, the letters themselves are just as significant: while other newspapers were still swarming like headless flies, we had hooked up with mysterious sorcerers, Well, even though it's a one-way connection, it's a great start."
It's not that other people don't know these things, it's just that the responsibility is heavy, and they are all hesitating. But Rita Skeeter, a woman who has no psychological burden, is very decisive in the eyes of others.
The fat supervisor frowned and said, "What if these letters are isolated cases, a few—well, a few wizards in school, my God! It sounds so weird that wizards go to school too—cough, my I mean, what if it was just the whim of a few school wizarding students?"
"I do have this concern," said the serious woman. She is afraid that because she speaks for the wizard, or criticizes and analyzes it not sufficiently spicy and comprehensive, and does not make full use of these materials, she will be overtaken by other media.
"I don't think so." Skeeter said confidently, her confidence did not come from analysis, but from last night's conversation. After knowing the conclusion, it became very easy to reverse the process.
"Think about it, after these articles were sent out, whether it was the impulse of a few students or not, as long as one of the contents of the letter was true - that the wizards have their own law enforcement agencies, they will definitely find out. At that time, there are only two outcomes:"
Rita Skeeter said more and more confident, she raised two thick fingers:
"The first result is that the law enforcement came to the door and ordered those students not to write to us again, but this practice-"
"It doesn't make much sense," said the serious woman, "because the wizard has already exposed his existence, and doing so is just pretending to be deaf."
"That's right," Skeeter exclaimed, "the second result is that the wizards of the wizarding world acquiesce in the behavior of these students, and at best guide them in secret, to avoid leaking secrets or something; or as we just feared, this Everything is designed by wizards...in either case, it means a steady stream of scoops!"
The breathing in the conference room became heavy.
Rita Skeeter glanced at the others calmly. She had just thought of a perfect title for herself: the Uncrowned King.
...
At the same time, several of the most powerful figures in the British government are participating in a cabinet meeting, each of whom is handpicked, even the leader of the opposition party.
"Can we send troops..." In the middle of the meeting, the Minister of Defense said tentatively.
"I disagree!" The Prime Minister patted the table.
"Mr. Prime Minister, don't forget that you are our Prime Minister." The leader of the opposition party warned the Prime Minister, he said maliciously: "I suspect that you are bewitched by those wizards... In fact, this possibility is very high, according to legend, wizards can summon Demons come out and brew potions that confuse people, only a burning cross can subdue them..."
"Are you a fool?" said the Prime Minister angrily. "Or are you going to start a modern witch hunt? But your opponents are not the unarmed women of centuries ago, but the real magicians, the strongest of them all. A bunch of people can destroy a city with just one man, and—damn, yes, that man just used the flames you're so proud of!"
"It's impossible! How can they be so strong?" cried the Home Secretary.
In fact, what he wants to say is, why is the wizard so strong, yet willing to hide?
"There are only a few that are so strong, and it is very rare," the Prime Minister said with a strange expression: "According to what I have seen in the data, there have only been four in the last two hundred years, and three of them are in the UK. I don't know whether to be proud or not. Uh--"
"Are they still alive?" the chancellor asked cautiously.
"Two died," said the Prime Minister. "In terms we can understand, one of them is good and the other bad. The good one is highly respected and the headmaster of a wizarding school. He fought against two generations of the Dark Lord alone. Unfortunately, he passed away recently. If it wasn't for him, there might have been a war between the wizard and us long ago."
He did feel pity. Although the Prime Minister had never met Dumbledore, from the attitude of the two Ministers of Magic alone, he was able to picture in his mind an image of a political prestige that no one could match.
The opposition leader asked coldly: "What if war breaks out, will we lose?"
The Prime Minister looked at him strangely.
"Am I not clear enough? Or are you determined to fight a street battle in the UK with tens of thousands of people with strange skills? They are organized and have a regime similar to ours, which means they are more than terrorists. Molecules are harder to deal with, I remember the last time we sent hundreds of cops out against a dozen or so violent elements and it shattered a block! Even if we win in the end, what do we get - oh, not to mention that they now have two The archmage who destroys the city at every turn, one of them is restricted by the magic oath, and the other intends to negotiate to integrate the wizard into the society, you plan to ruin this situation and let two humanoid nuclear bombs join hands to deal with us?"
"Does what you said represent the attitude of your party?" the Prime Minister pressed aggressively, not forgetting to dig a hole for his opponent.
The leader of the opposition party was speechless, and after a while, he asked a pointed question:
"Are you sure this information is true? I've never heard of a city destroyed by a wizard, only we ourselves—" He stopped embarrassedly.
"The information has the answer you want." The Prime Minister shied the responsibility and said, "As for whether it is true or false, I am not sure, so I asked you to discuss it."
"What do they, um, wizards do? I mean, you've seen it with your own eyes?" The Minister of Defense asked a solid question.
The Prime Minister thought about it and said, "I've only dealt with two Ministers of Magic. They don't cast spells in front of me at will, but I just saw it with my own eyes-" His expression suddenly became serious and solemn.
"Wizards can stick things on walls that can't be taken off by conventional means; wizards' portraits are intelligent and can communicate with people—I'm not sure if that's all true; they can also turn objects into small animals that can't be distinguished by the naked eye. Fake, call it Transfiguration, they have a range of magical disciplines—"
"Can a wizard become another person?" asked the Minister of Defense, holding his breath.
"I don't know." The Prime Minister shook his head, and he continued: "They can still appear and disappear out of nowhere, but I've only seen them once, and most of the time they appear through the fireplace—"
"Fireplace!" shouted the Defence Secretary and the Home Secretary in unison, seeming horrified.
"What?" the Prime Minister asked curiously.
"Have you ever counted," said the Home Secretary, grimacingly, "how many fireplaces are there in the whole of England?"
The Prime Minister was startled for a moment, then the rest of the expression on his face disappeared, and a little bit of fear emerged.
Needless to say - the British have a strong fireplace plot, basically every household will buy a beautiful fireplace, even if it doesn't burn several times a year, but it must be!
The government also regards fireplaces as an important position in British traditional culture. Today, with the continuous development of technology, people have long not needed fireplaces for heating, but the government still strives to provide people with cleaner and cleaner coal for fireplaces.
Think about how many scenes of English literature that are either warm, or intriguing, or reunited with family and friends, feature fireplaces?
In the raging flames, the fireplace has witnessed the warmth and happiness of countless families, the beautiful vows between lovers, and the laughter of friends... And now, if there is hostility to wizards, the first thing is to call on the public to demolish Falling down a million fireplaces?
The Prime Minister shuddered.
His heart, which was not firm, was even more shaken at this moment. The connection between wizards and ordinary people was far closer than he imagined. If you want to deal with wizards, you must first fight a fireplace war without gunpowder smoke, which is cutting flesh! With all the influence of the wizards removed, what is left of the land?
"These wizards are so abominable!"
"Rats in the sewer!"
"So shameless!"
After a period of fierce criticism. The conference room was quiet again, and everyone looked at each other. The Prime Minister looked left and right, and was finally forced to ask helplessly: "So—everyone agrees to tentatively engage with the wizard?"
No one said a word.
"I get it, and I hope everyone will continue to uphold this resolution in the upcoming Congressional sessions."
Outside the conference room, Kingsley, the Prime Minister's assistant, pricked up his ears. fireplace? He never thought that a small fireplace would be the key, maybe he was too used to it. He walked away quietly, and the discussion in the conference room continued, but it was no longer relevant--
"Should you seek help from the church? They are the professionals," someone suggested.
"Idiot, haven't you dealt with them? If they can really spread miracles, what kind of virtue would they be? They're blasphemous!"
"Cough cough cough!" The Prime Minister let out a series of rapid coughing sounds.
"Alas, at least they might keep some records."
"Speaking of this - I suddenly remembered that the Queen is the supreme leader of the church in name..."
"You want the royal family to get involved?"
"For such a big thing, it's better to share some pressure..."
...
Dursley family.
"I knew it, just watch it!" Feinong pointed to the TV and said triumphantly: "The guys in the gutter can't hide anymore, someone will stop them, I really hope the government will arrest them one by one stand up--"
He suddenly propped up his body~www.novelhall.com~ his small eyes rolled around twice, "If this is the case, will they use our house as a shelter and forcibly requisition our house? I see the work of the Ministry of Magic. The staff are sneaky and have no good intentions."
Dudley glared at his father.
"Well, not everyone with Dudley is as good as you," Fennon added quickly, turning to Penny. "Should we surreptitiously call the police—while that kid isn't around?"
"No!" cried Aunt Petunia, fiercely. "Never let anyone know!"
Feinong's fat shuddered and muttered in a low voice, "Okay, okay... I'm just saying it casually, and it's all to blame for that freak," he suddenly became angry, "I don't know how to behave, and his father Just like that, I asked someone to bring back a message—"
He drooled and cursed happily for ten minutes, then leaned on the sofa and panted, turning his head to look at the photo on the mantelpiece—although they used electric stoves for heating in winter, they still maintained this tradition, otherwise will be gossiped.
Neighbors know that the Dursleys are very, very well behaved.
Please report us if you find any errors so we can fix it asap!
Chapter 690 Fireplace (for double the monthly pass!)
Rita Skeeter walked into the meeting room, half nervous and half excited. She looked around. Several important people and well-known pens were there—the fat executive, the serious old woman who favored her, the competitor Melissa , and two or three standouts in their respective subjects, one of whom she knew had a well-written obituary.
Their faces were solemn, as if something major had happened.
"Rita, you're here," said the serious woman kindly, with several letters in front of her, one of which had been opened. "How's the rest? There are no sequelae, after all, those strange magics?"
"It's much better," Skeeter said vaguely. "I slept and felt fine. Oh, yes," she took two manuscripts from her crocodile bag. "I wrote this."
The woman took it in surprise.
"This is my review of yesterday's events. Because I'm not sure about the attitude of the newspaper, I chose two angles to describe it." Skeeter said calmly.
"I'm very satisfied." The serious woman nodded, she flipped through it, and put down the manuscript without looking carefully. She put her hands on the table and leaned forward, "But things have changed now, we got this." One of her ringed hands tapped the envelope on the table, "and it happens to be about you."
"It's about me?" Skeeter repeated suspiciously.
The serious woman picked up the open letter and poured out a stack of folded letter paper and a small card. She pushed the small card in front of Rita Skeeter.
"Read and read."
Rita Skeeter scratched the card with the long fingernail of her pinky finger, and held it in her hand to read carefully the writing on it. At a glance, she found that the handwriting was messy and not formal enough. Thinking of what Haipu said last night, she guessed that it might have been transcribed by a certain student? She cleared her throat:
"The wizarding world is exposed. The adults are busy debating solutions, and my mother is worried and she doesn't want a conflict. A few friends and I decided to write to you - hopefully you'll realize that, aside from magic, our emotions are the same. .
Also: A Muggle-born friend of mine recognized the female reporter who appeared on the news. She was probably the first person to interview a wizard, right? So we send it to you. It's over, that's all I wrote above. "
Rita Skeeter looked up and saw that the reporters present were staring at her jealously, and she instantly realized that the title of 'first reporter to interview a wizard' had played a role. The serious woman didn't say anything, and pushed the opened letter over again.
Skeeter unfolded the letter and read it aloud in public. "I have a friend..." Only halfway through, she locked the sender's identity. The famous Harry Potter is known to everyone in the wizarding world. With the reappearance of the Dark Lord Voldemort, his two friends also became well-known. Unyielding was established as a model and received the Merlin Medal.
Through various clues, she determined that the letter came from the youngest son of the Weasley family, Ron Weasley.
"It's over?" the fat supervisor said still, "It's quite interesting, but some of the preambles don't fit the description." Several other reporters also nodded.
"It's over." Skeeter said dryly. She couldn't see anything interesting at all. If she had gotten the news early, she would have produced a series of controversial articles. can be in between.
A reporter was about to speak, but a serious woman stopped him.
"Read the letter in full, and we'll discuss it."
Rita Skeeter looked left and right, grabbed the second letter, tore it open, and read it out in public, "I have a friend..." Well, she thought, just after talking about the Savior in her mind, the Savior's letter appeared. , if it wasn't arranged by Haipu, she would dare to eat the parchment.
Then came the third and last letter, which Rita Skeeter read for a while, unable to guess who wrote it.
"...when it's hot and humid, I like to lie in the little garden.
The mistletoe branches divide the sky into small lattices, and the sky flows between the lattices, and the dust in the sun is suspended next to the white berries of the mistletoe. It is very beautiful, and maybe the goblins in the garden think so too. Goblins are not very good at talking, and aside from spitting and grimacing, their greatest pleasure is to carry home white berries. I left a boot in the garden as a kid in anticipation that they would move in someday, and then I built a house for them with my dad.
There are also vines planted in the garden. Often like dead tree stumps, this charming plant has surface pimples, with the occasional colorful scar (some say it's an infestation). Dad won't let me touch it, because the pimple vine is a fragile and kind plant. It can swept away the bad mood in the vicinity. The secret is the grapefruit-sized pod it produces.
'The bad moods hide in the pod and grow bigger and bigger until it can't hold it and burst itself. ' Dad said.
We observe the scene of the split pods in awe.
In the scorching sun, my father and I held lotus leaf umbrellas to prevent sweating. It usually takes a few hours before a popping sound is heard, the green skin cracks open, and a pale green, squiggly worm-like thing flows out of it. They would still wriggle at first, but gradually quieted down, making one wonder if they were dead, but Dad said it was just the bad emotions that came out of their shells and turned into annoying harassing flies.
The molefly is a noxious creature that floats into one's ears and messes up the brain. They can be invisible and when you hear the buzzing and then get irritated then that's proof they're there, dad developed a stalker siphon to deal with them, but the pimple vines make too many wormflies, we There must be another way.
The solution is to hold a special ceremony that looks like some kind of dance.
Fill your brain with happy emotions to briefly fend off the harassing flies, then dance your arms around your head while circling in circles—like trying to drive away mosquitoes. The purpose of this is to tell the harassing horsefly that my mind has been taken over by other emotions and I don't need you, so they fly away.
The ceremony is very tiring, but also very happy. In order to treat himself, my father usually cooks a pot of fish soup with colorful balls.
Dad was proficient in many recipes, and I helped catch fish in the creek. There are many kinds of ballfish, some are very dangerous, such as the bigmouth ballfish, if someone overfishes their kind, they will rush out of the water with their big mouths open to attack them, so I will take them with me when I catch fish. Bring some gardigans to prevent accidents like this from happening (I'll also keep some sage and mallow for fire divination, or other useful things like agaric)..."
Rita Skeeter stared at the outrageous words, they seemed so out of place, did something go wrong?
"Harassing the horsefly." The fat supervisor mused.
"A plant that absorbs bad moods," Melissa murmured.
"Does the dance that ordinary people practice to drive away harassing flies work?" another reporter asked.
Rita Skeeter was stunned. After a long time, the serious woman coughed twice to bring everyone back to their senses, and then she lit a lady's cigarette. The smoke lingered.
"Okay, that's what I said. The situation has changed." The serious woman sat upright and said, "At present, the whole country—no, it should be said that the whole world is in chaos. Many newspapers denounced yesterday's atrocities, and of course we also published them. A light-hearted critique... The reason for not rushing to take a surface is because we are special, Rita was lucky enough to have contact with wizards, and even she herself became excellent material, so I Waiting for her to come back and preparing to build a series of news around her."
Skeeter secretly rolled his eyes, knowing that this woman had tasted the benefits of the last gun ban.
"...difference, journalism can't follow others' opinions, it has to think for itself. But this is unusual. If wizards are defined as terrorists, we will probably get into trouble speaking for them, and when I am in a dilemma, I Received these letters. What do you think the newspaper should do? Give it to the authorities, or—"
"Absolutely not hand it over!" Everyone shouted in unison.
Serious woman smiles on tense face. "Very well, if anyone thinks so, I'll tell him to pack up and get out of the way. The question now is, what attitude should we take, and whether the contents of these letters are credible?"
Everyone bowed their heads and thought, and they all realized that this was an interview. Whoever said something more in line with their hearts, then the entire newspaper's resources would revolve around that person.
"Why don't we take a neutral attitude and forward these letters truthfully, so that we stay out of the way?" the fat supervisor said tentatively.
The serious woman looked at him.
"Perhaps to criticize euphemistically?" the fat director said uncertainly. "There is so little useful information at the moment. There are only a few letters with no beginning and no end. In case it is the conspiracy of those wizards..."
The serious woman was about to speak when Rita Skeeter interjected, "That's not ruled out." But then she asked back, "But does it matter to us?"
The serious woman glanced at her, "Tell me what you think."
"Whether there are any magical institutions involved - oh, from these letters, you should be able to see that wizards are an organized small society, not stragglers, they have schools, hospitals, law enforcement agencies, gathering areas..." Skeeter Pointing to the letter, he said, "Aside from the specifics, the letters themselves are just as significant: while other newspapers were still swarming like headless flies, we had hooked up with mysterious sorcerers, Well, even though it's a one-way connection, it's a great start."
It's not that other people don't know these things, it's just that the responsibility is heavy, and they are all hesitating. But Rita Skeeter, a woman who has no psychological burden, is very decisive in the eyes of others.
The fat supervisor frowned and said, "What if these letters are isolated cases, a few—well, a few wizards in school, my God! It sounds so weird that wizards go to school too—cough, my I mean, what if it was just the whim of a few school wizarding students?"
"I do have this concern," said the serious woman. She is afraid that because she speaks for the wizard, or criticizes and analyzes it not sufficiently spicy and comprehensive, and does not make full use of these materials, she will be overtaken by other media.
"I don't think so." Skeeter said confidently, her confidence did not come from analysis, but from last night's conversation. After knowing the conclusion, it became very easy to reverse the process.
"Think about it, after these articles were sent out, whether it was the impulse of a few students or not, as long as one of the contents of the letter was true - that the wizards have their own law enforcement agencies, they will definitely find out. At that time, there are only two outcomes:"
Rita Skeeter said more and more confident, she raised two thick fingers:
"The first result is that the law enforcement came to the door and ordered those students not to write to us again, but this practice-"
"It doesn't make much sense," said the serious woman, "because the wizard has already exposed his existence, and doing so is just pretending to be deaf."
"That's right," Skeeter exclaimed, "the second result is that the wizards of the wizarding world acquiesce in the behavior of these students, and at best guide them in secret, to avoid leaking secrets or something; or as we just feared, this Everything is designed by wizards...in either case, it means a steady stream of scoops!"
The breathing in the conference room became heavy.
Rita Skeeter glanced at the others calmly. She had just thought of a perfect title for herself: the Uncrowned King.
...
At the same time, several of the most powerful figures in the British government are participating in a cabinet meeting, each of whom is handpicked, even the leader of the opposition party.
"Can we send troops..." In the middle of the meeting, the Minister of Defense said tentatively.
"I disagree!" The Prime Minister patted the table.
"Mr. Prime Minister, don't forget that you are our Prime Minister." The leader of the opposition party warned the Prime Minister, he said maliciously: "I suspect that you are bewitched by those wizards... In fact, this possibility is very high, according to legend, wizards can summon Demons come out and brew potions that confuse people, only a burning cross can subdue them..."
"Are you a fool?" said the Prime Minister angrily. "Or are you going to start a modern witch hunt? But your opponents are not the unarmed women of centuries ago, but the real magicians, the strongest of them all. A bunch of people can destroy a city with just one man, and—damn, yes, that man just used the flames you're so proud of!"
"It's impossible! How can they be so strong?" cried the Home Secretary.
In fact, what he wants to say is, why is the wizard so strong, yet willing to hide?
"There are only a few that are so strong, and it is very rare," the Prime Minister said with a strange expression: "According to what I have seen in the data, there have only been four in the last two hundred years, and three of them are in the UK. I don't know whether to be proud or not. Uh--"
"Are they still alive?" the chancellor asked cautiously.
"Two died," said the Prime Minister. "In terms we can understand, one of them is good and the other bad. The good one is highly respected and the headmaster of a wizarding school. He fought against two generations of the Dark Lord alone. Unfortunately, he passed away recently. If it wasn't for him, there might have been a war between the wizard and us long ago."
He did feel pity. Although the Prime Minister had never met Dumbledore, from the attitude of the two Ministers of Magic alone, he was able to picture in his mind an image of a political prestige that no one could match.
The opposition leader asked coldly: "What if war breaks out, will we lose?"
The Prime Minister looked at him strangely.
"Am I not clear enough? Or are you determined to fight a street battle in the UK with tens of thousands of people with strange skills? They are organized and have a regime similar to ours, which means they are more than terrorists. Molecules are harder to deal with, I remember the last time we sent hundreds of cops out against a dozen or so violent elements and it shattered a block! Even if we win in the end, what do we get - oh, not to mention that they now have two The archmage who destroys the city at every turn, one of them is restricted by the magic oath, and the other intends to negotiate to integrate the wizard into the society, you plan to ruin this situation and let two humanoid nuclear bombs join hands to deal with us?"
"Does what you said represent the attitude of your party?" the Prime Minister pressed aggressively, not forgetting to dig a hole for his opponent.
The leader of the opposition party was speechless, and after a while, he asked a pointed question:
"Are you sure this information is true? I've never heard of a city destroyed by a wizard, only we ourselves—" He stopped embarrassedly.
"The information has the answer you want." The Prime Minister shied the responsibility and said, "As for whether it is true or false, I am not sure, so I asked you to discuss it."
"What do they, um, wizards do? I mean, you've seen it with your own eyes?" The Minister of Defense asked a solid question.
The Prime Minister thought about it and said, "I've only dealt with two Ministers of Magic. They don't cast spells in front of me at will, but I just saw it with my own eyes-" His expression suddenly became serious and solemn.
"Wizards can stick things on walls that can't be taken off by conventional means; wizards' portraits are intelligent and can communicate with people—I'm not sure if that's all true; they can also turn objects into small animals that can't be distinguished by the naked eye. Fake, call it Transfiguration, they have a range of magical disciplines—"
"Can a wizard become another person?" asked the Minister of Defense, holding his breath.
"I don't know." The Prime Minister shook his head, and he continued: "They can still appear and disappear out of nowhere, but I've only seen them once, and most of the time they appear through the fireplace—"
"Fireplace!" shouted the Defence Secretary and the Home Secretary in unison, seeming horrified.
"What?" the Prime Minister asked curiously.
"Have you ever counted," said the Home Secretary, grimacingly, "how many fireplaces are there in the whole of England?"
The Prime Minister was startled for a moment, then the rest of the expression on his face disappeared, and a little bit of fear emerged.
Needless to say - the British have a strong fireplace plot, basically every household will buy a beautiful fireplace, even if it doesn't burn several times a year, but it must be!
The government also regards fireplaces as an important position in British traditional culture. Today, with the continuous development of technology, people have long not needed fireplaces for heating, but the government still strives to provide people with cleaner and cleaner coal for fireplaces.
Think about how many scenes of English literature that are either warm, or intriguing, or reunited with family and friends, feature fireplaces?
In the raging flames, the fireplace has witnessed the warmth and happiness of countless families, the beautiful vows between lovers, and the laughter of friends... And now, if there is hostility to wizards, the first thing is to call on the public to demolish Falling down a million fireplaces?
The Prime Minister shuddered.
His heart, which was not firm, was even more shaken at this moment. The connection between wizards and ordinary people was far closer than he imagined. If you want to deal with wizards, you must first fight a fireplace war without gunpowder smoke, which is cutting flesh! With all the influence of the wizards removed, what is left of the land?
"These wizards are so abominable!"
"Rats in the sewer!"
"So shameless!"
After a period of fierce criticism. The conference room was quiet again, and everyone looked at each other. The Prime Minister looked left and right, and was finally forced to ask helplessly: "So—everyone agrees to tentatively engage with the wizard?"
No one said a word.
"I get it, and I hope everyone will continue to uphold this resolution in the upcoming Congressional sessions."
Outside the conference room, Kingsley, the Prime Minister's assistant, pricked up his ears. fireplace? He never thought that a small fireplace would be the key, maybe he was too used to it. He walked away quietly, and the discussion in the conference room continued, but it was no longer relevant--
"Should you seek help from the church? They are the professionals," someone suggested.
"Idiot, haven't you dealt with them? If they can really spread miracles, what kind of virtue would they be? They're blasphemous!"
"Cough cough cough!" The Prime Minister let out a series of rapid coughing sounds.
"Alas, at least they might keep some records."
"Speaking of this - I suddenly remembered that the Queen is the supreme leader of the church in name..."
"You want the royal family to get involved?"
"For such a big thing, it's better to share some pressure..."
...
Dursley family.
"I knew it, just watch it!" Feinong pointed to the TV and said triumphantly: "The guys in the gutter can't hide anymore, someone will stop them, I really hope the government will arrest them one by one stand up--"
He suddenly propped up his body~www.novelhall.com~ his small eyes rolled around twice, "If this is the case, will they use our house as a shelter and forcibly requisition our house? I see the work of the Ministry of Magic. The staff are sneaky and have no good intentions."
Dudley glared at his father.
"Well, not everyone with Dudley is as good as you," Fennon added quickly, turning to Penny. "Should we surreptitiously call the police—while that kid isn't around?"
"No!" cried Aunt Petunia, fiercely. "Never let anyone know!"
Feinong's fat shuddered and muttered in a low voice, "Okay, okay... I'm just saying it casually, and it's all to blame for that freak," he suddenly became angry, "I don't know how to behave, and his father Just like that, I asked someone to bring back a message—"
He drooled and cursed happily for ten minutes, then leaned on the sofa and panted, turning his head to look at the photo on the mantelpiece—although they used electric stoves for heating in winter, they still maintained this tradition, otherwise will be gossiped.
Neighbors know that the Dursleys are very, very well behaved.
Chapter 690 Fireplace for double the monthly pass!Rita Skeeter walked into the meeting room, half nervous and half excited. She looked around. Several important people and well-known pens were therethe fat executive, the serious old woman who favored her, the competitor Melissa , and two or three standouts in their respective subjects, one of whom she knew had a well-written obituary.Their faces were solemn, as if something major had happened."Rita, you're here," said the serious woman kindly, with several letters in front of her, one of which had been opened. "How's the rest? There are no sequelae, after all, those strange magics?""It's much better," Skeeter said vaguely. "I slept and felt fine. Oh, yes," she took two manuscripts from her crocodile bag. "I wrote this."The woman took it in surprise."This is my review of yesterday's events. Because I'm not sure about the attitude of the newspaper, I chose two angles to describe it." Skeeter said calmly."I'm very satisfied." The serious woman nodded, she flipped through it, and put down the manuscript without looking carefully. She put her hands on the table and leaned forward, "But things have changed now, we got this." One of her ringed hands tapped the envelope on the table, "and it happens to be about you.""It's about me?" Skeeter repeated suspiciously.The serious woman picked up the open letter and poured out a stack of folded letter paper and a small card. She pushed the small card in front of Rita Skeeter."Read and read."Rita Skeeter scratched the card with the long fingernail of her pinky finger, and held it in her hand to read carefully the writing on it. At a glance, she found that the handwriting was messy and not formal enough. Thinking of what Haipu said last night, she guessed that it might have been transcribed by a certain student? She cleared her throat:"The wizarding world is exposed. The adults are busy debating solutions, and my mother is worried and she doesn't want a conflict. A few friends and I decided to write to you - hopefully you'll realize that, aside from magic, our emotions are the same. .Also: A Muggle-born friend of mine recognized the female reporter who appeared on the news. She was probably the first person to interview a wizard, right? So we send it to you. It's over, that's all I wrote above. "Rita Skeeter looked up and saw that the reporters present were staring at her jealously, and she instantly realized that the title of 'first reporter to interview a wizard' had played a role. The serious woman didn't say anything, and pushed the opened letter over again.Skeeter unfolded the letter and read it aloud in public. "I have a friend..." Only halfway through, she locked the sender's identity. The famous Harry Potter is known to everyone in the wizarding world. With the reappearance of the Dark Lord Voldemort, his two friends also became well-known. Unyielding was established as a model and received the Merlin Medal.Through various clues, she determined that the letter came from the youngest son of the Weasley family, Ron Weasley."It's over?" the fat supervisor said still, "It's quite interesting, but some of the preambles don't fit the description." Several other reporters also nodded."It's over." Skeeter said dryly. She couldn't see anything interesting at all. If she had gotten the news early, she would have produced a series of controversial articles. can be in between.A reporter was about to speak, but a serious woman stopped him."Read the letter in full, and we'll discuss it."Rita Skeeter looked left and right, grabbed the second letter, tore it open, and read it out in public, "I have a friend..." Well, she thought, just after talking about the Savior in her mind, the Savior's letter appeared. , if it wasn't arranged by Haipu, she would dare to eat the parchment.Then came the third and last letter, which Rita Skeeter read for a while, unable to guess who wrote it."...when it's hot and humid, I like to lie in the little garden.The mistletoe branches divide the sky into small lattices, and the sky flows between the lattices, and the dust in the sun is suspended next to the white berries of the mistletoe. It is very beautiful, and maybe the goblins in the garden think so too. Goblins are not very good at talking, and aside from spitting and grimacing, their greatest pleasure is to carry home white berries. I left a boot in the garden as a kid in anticipation that they would move in someday, and then I built a house for them with my dad.There are also vines planted in the garden. Often like dead tree stumps, this charming plant has surface pimples, with the occasional colorful scar some say it's an infestation. Dad won't let me touch it, because the pimple vine is a fragile and kind plant. It can swept away the bad mood in the vicinity. The secret is the grapefruit-sized pod it produces.'The bad moods hide in the pod and grow bigger and bigger until it can't hold it and burst itself. ' Dad said.We observe the scene of the split pods in awe.In the scorching sun, my father and I held lotus leaf umbrellas to prevent sweating. It usually takes a few hours before a popping sound is heard, the green skin cracks open, and a pale green, squiggly worm-like thing flows out of it. They would still wriggle at first, but gradually quieted down, making one wonder if they were dead, but Dad said it was just the bad emotions that came out of their shells and turned into annoying harassing flies.The molefly is a noxious creature that floats into one's ears and messes up the brain. They can be invisible and when you hear the buzzing and then get irritated then that's proof they're there, dad developed a stalker siphon to deal with them, but the pimple vines make too many wormflies, we There must be another way.The solution is to hold a special ceremony that looks like some kind of dance.Fill your brain with happy emotions to briefly fend off the harassing flies, then dance your arms around your head while circling in circleslike trying to drive away mosquitoes. The purpose of this is to tell the harassing horsefly that my mind has been taken over by other emotions and I don't need you, so they fly away.The ceremony is very tiring, but also very happy. In order to treat himself, my father usually cooks a pot of fish soup with colorful balls.Dad was proficient in many recipes, and I helped catch fish in the creek. There are many kinds of ballfish, some are very dangerous, such as the bigmouth ballfish, if someone overfishes their kind, they will rush out of the water with their big mouths open to attack them, so I will take them with me when I catch fish. Bring some gardigans to prevent accidents like this from happening I'll also keep some sage and mallow for fire divination, or other useful things like agaric..."Rita Skeeter stared at the outrageous words, they seemed so out of place, did something go wrong?"Harassing the horsefly." The fat supervisor mused."A plant that absorbs bad moods," Melissa murmured."Does the dance that ordinary people practice to drive away harassing flies work?" another reporter asked.Rita Skeeter was stunned. After a long time, the serious woman coughed twice to bring everyone back to their senses, and then she lit a lady's cigarette. The smoke lingered."Okay, that's what I said. The situation has changed." The serious woman sat upright and said, "At present, the whole countryno, it should be said that the whole world is in chaos. Many newspapers denounced yesterday's atrocities, and of course we also published them. A light-hearted critique... The reason for not rushing to take a surface is because we are special, Rita was lucky enough to have contact with wizards, and even she herself became excellent material, so I Waiting for her to come back and preparing to build a series of news around her."Skeeter secretly rolled his eyes, knowing that this woman had tasted the benefits of the last gun ban."...difference, journalism can't follow others' opinions, it has to think for itself. But this is unusual. If wizards are defined as terrorists, we will probably get into trouble speaking for them, and when I am in a dilemma, I Received these letters. What do you think the newspaper should do? Give it to the authorities, or""Absolutely not hand it over!" Everyone shouted in unison.Serious woman smiles on tense face. "Very well, if anyone thinks so, I'll tell him to pack up and get out of the way. The question now is, what attitude should we take, and whether the contents of these letters are credible?"Everyone bowed their heads and thought, and they all realized that this was an interview. Whoever said something more in line with their hearts, then the entire newspaper's resources would revolve around that person."Why don't we take a neutral attitude and forward these letters truthfully, so that we stay out of the way?" the fat supervisor said tentatively.The serious woman looked at him."Perhaps to criticize euphemistically?" the fat director said uncertainly. "There is so little useful information at the moment. There are only a few letters with no beginning and no end. In case it is the conspiracy of those wizards..."The serious woman was about to speak when Rita Skeeter interjected, "That's not ruled out." But then she asked back, "But does it matter to us?"The serious woman glanced at her, "Tell me what you think.""Whether there are any magical institutions involved - oh, from these letters, you should be able to see that wizards are an organized small society, not stragglers, they have schools, hospitals, law enforcement agencies, gathering areas..." Skeeter Pointing to the letter, he said, "Aside from the specifics, the letters themselves are just as significant: while other newspapers were still swarming like headless flies, we had hooked up with mysterious sorcerers, Well, even though it's a one-way connection, it's a great start."It's not that other people don't know these things, it's just that the responsibility is heavy, and they are all hesitating. But Rita Skeeter, a woman who has no psychological burden, is very decisive in the eyes of others.The fat supervisor frowned and said, "What if these letters are isolated cases, a fewwell, a few wizards in school, my God! It sounds so weird that wizards go to school toocough, my I mean, what if it was just the whim of a few school wizarding students?""I do have this concern," said the serious woman. She is afraid that because she speaks for the wizard, or criticizes and analyzes it not sufficiently spicy and comprehensive, and does not make full use of these materials, she will be overtaken by other media."I don't think so." Skeeter said confidently, her confidence did not come from analysis, but from last night's conversation. After knowing the conclusion, it became very easy to reverse the process."Think about it, after these articles were sent out, whether it was the impulse of a few students or not, as long as one of the contents of the letter was true - that the wizards have their own law enforcement agencies, they will definitely find out. At that time, there are only two outcomes:"Rita Skeeter said more and more confident, she raised two thick fingers:"The first result is that the law enforcement came to the door and ordered those students not to write to us again, but this practice-""It doesn't make much sense," said the serious woman, "because the wizard has already exposed his existence, and doing so is just pretending to be deaf.""That's right," Skeeter exclaimed, "the second result is that the wizards of the wizarding world acquiesce in the behavior of these students, and at best guide them in secret, to avoid leaking secrets or something; or as we just feared, this Everything is designed by wizards...in either case, it means a steady stream of scoops!"The breathing in the conference room became heavy.Rita Skeeter glanced at the others calmly. She had just thought of a perfect title for herself: the Uncrowned King....At the same time, several of the most powerful figures in the British government are participating in a cabinet meeting, each of whom is handpicked, even the leader of the opposition party."Can we send troops..." In the middle of the meeting, the Minister of Defense said tentatively."I disagree!" The Prime Minister patted the table."Mr. Prime Minister, don't forget that you are our Prime Minister." The leader of the opposition party warned the Prime Minister, he said maliciously: "I suspect that you are bewitched by those wizards... In fact, this possibility is very high, according to legend, wizards can summon Demons come out and brew potions that confuse people, only a burning cross can subdue them...""Are you a fool?" said the Prime Minister angrily. "Or are you going to start a modern witch hunt? But your opponents are not the unarmed women of centuries ago, but the real magicians, the strongest of them all. A bunch of people can destroy a city with just one man, anddamn, yes, that man just used the flames you're so proud of!""It's impossible! How can they be so strong?" cried the Home Secretary.In fact, what he wants to say is, why is the wizard so strong, yet willing to hide?"There are only a few that are so strong, and it is very rare," the Prime Minister said with a strange expression: "According to what I have seen in the data, there have only been four in the last two hundred years, and three of them are in the UK. I don't know whether to be proud or not. Uh--""Are they still alive?" the chancellor asked cautiously."Two died," said the Prime Minister. "In terms we can understand, one of them is good and the other bad. The good one is highly respected and the headmaster of a wizarding school. He fought against two generations of the Dark Lord alone. Unfortunately, he passed away recently. If it wasn't for him, there might have been a war between the wizard and us long ago."He did feel pity. Although the Prime Minister had never met Dumbledore, from the attitude of the two Ministers of Magic alone, he was able to picture in his mind an image of a political prestige that no one could match.The opposition leader asked coldly: "What if war breaks out, will we lose?"The Prime Minister looked at him strangely."Am I not clear enough? Or are you determined to fight a street battle in the UK with tens of thousands of people with strange skills? They are organized and have a regime similar to ours, which means they are more than terrorists. Molecules are harder to deal with, I remember the last time we sent hundreds of cops out against a dozen or so violent elements and it shattered a block! Even if we win in the end, what do we get - oh, not to mention that they now have two The archmage who destroys the city at every turn, one of them is restricted by the magic oath, and the other intends to negotiate to integrate the wizard into the society, you plan to ruin this situation and let two humanoid nuclear bombs join hands to deal with us?""Does what you said represent the attitude of your party?" the Prime Minister pressed aggressively, not forgetting to dig a hole for his opponent.The leader of the opposition party was speechless, and after a while, he asked a pointed question:"Are you sure this information is true? I've never heard of a city destroyed by a wizard, only we ourselves" He stopped embarrassedly."The information has the answer you want." The Prime Minister shied the responsibility and said, "As for whether it is true or false, I am not sure, so I asked you to discuss it.""What do they, um, wizards do? I mean, you've seen it with your own eyes?" The Minister of Defense asked a solid question.The Prime Minister thought about it and said, "I've only dealt with two Ministers of Magic. They don't cast spells in front of me at will, but I just saw it with my own eyes-" His expression suddenly became serious and solemn."Wizards can stick things on walls that can't be taken off by conventional means; wizards' portraits are intelligent and can communicate with peopleI'm not sure if that's all true; they can also turn objects into small animals that can't be distinguished by the naked eye. Fake, call it Transfiguration, they have a range of magical disciplines""Can a wizard become another person?" asked the Minister of Defense, holding his breath."I don't know." The Prime Minister shook his head, and he continued: "They can still appear and disappear out of nowhere, but I've only seen them once, and most of the time they appear through the fireplace""Fireplace!" shouted the Defence Secretary and the Home Secretary in unison, seeming horrified."What?" the Prime Minister asked curiously."Have you ever counted," said the Home Secretary, grimacingly, "how many fireplaces are there in the whole of England?"The Prime Minister was startled for a moment, then the rest of the expression on his face disappeared, and a little bit of fear emerged.Needless to say - the British have a strong fireplace plot, basically every household will buy a beautiful fireplace, even if it doesn't burn several times a year, but it must be!The government also regards fireplaces as an important position in British traditional culture. Today, with the continuous development of technology, people have long not needed fireplaces for heating, but the government still strives to provide people with cleaner and cleaner coal for fireplaces.Think about how many scenes of English literature that are either warm, or intriguing, or reunited with family and friends, feature fireplaces?In the raging flames, the fireplace has witnessed the warmth and happiness of countless families, the beautiful vows between lovers, and the laughter of friends... And now, if there is hostility to wizards, the first thing is to call on the public to demolish Falling down a million fireplaces?The Prime Minister shuddered.His heart, which was not firm, was even more shaken at this moment. The connection between wizards and ordinary people was far closer than he imagined. If you want to deal with wizards, you must first fight a fireplace war without gunpowder smoke, which is cutting flesh! With all the influence of the wizards removed, what is left of the land?"These wizards are so abominable!""Rats in the sewer!""So shameless!"After a period of fierce criticism. The conference room was quiet again, and everyone looked at each other. The Prime Minister looked left and right, and was finally forced to ask helplessly: "Soeveryone agrees to tentatively engage with the wizard?"No one said a word."I get it, and I hope everyone will continue to uphold this resolution in the upcoming Congressional sessions."Outside the conference room, Kingsley, the Prime Minister's assistant, pricked up his ears. fireplace? He never thought that a small fireplace would be the key, maybe he was too used to it. He walked away quietly, and the discussion in the conference room continued, but it was no longer relevant--"Should you seek help from the church? They are the professionals," someone suggested."Idiot, haven't you dealt with them? If they can really spread miracles, what kind of virtue would they be? They're blasphemous!""Cough cough cough!" The Prime Minister let out a series of rapid coughing sounds."Alas, at least they might keep some records.""Speaking of this - I suddenly remembered that the Queen is the supreme leader of the church in name...""You want the royal family to get involved?""For such a big thing, it's better to share some pressure..."...Dursley family."I knew it, just watch it!" Feinong pointed to the TV and said triumphantly: "The guys in the gutter can't hide anymore, someone will stop them, I really hope the government will arrest them one by one stand up--"He suddenly propped up his body~www.novelhall.com~ his small eyes rolled around twice, "If this is the case, will they use our house as a shelter and forcibly requisition our house? I see the work of the Ministry of Magic. The staff are sneaky and have no good intentions."Dudley glared at his father."Well, not everyone with Dudley is as good as you," Fennon added quickly, turning to Penny. "Should we surreptitiously call the policewhile that kid isn't around?""No!" cried Aunt Petunia, fiercely. "Never let anyone know!"Feinong's fat shuddered and muttered in a low voice, "Okay, okay... I'm just saying it casually, and it's all to blame for that freak," he suddenly became angry, "I don't know how to behave, and his father Just like that, I asked someone to bring back a message"He drooled and cursed happily for ten minutes, then leaned on the sofa and panted, turning his head to look at the photo on the mantelpiecealthough they used electric stoves for heating in winter, they still maintained this tradition, otherwise will be gossiped.Neighbors know that the Dursleys are very, very well behaved.
