Chapter 832: Hogwarts Study Panel Chapter 359

Stan said,

"Hold on tight, go..."

Bang! They sped through Charing Cross Road like lightning.

Harry sat up and watched the buildings and benches outside the window all squeeze to the side, making way for the Knight Bus.

The sky was brightening a little.

Ernie stepped hard on the brake, and the Knight Bus stopped in front of a dilapidated little pub—the Leaky Cauldron, behind which was the mysterious entrance to Diagon Alley.

"Thank you."

Harry said to Ernie. He jumped off the steps and helped Stan move his box and Hedwig's birdcage to the sidewalk.

"Alright,"

Harry walked out of the bus first and said,

"Goodbye!"

But Stan ignored Harry.

He was still standing at the door of the bus, staring wide-eyed at the dark entrance of the Leaky Cauldron.

"So here you are, Harry."

A voice said. Before Harry could turn around, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

At the same time, Stan shouted:

"My God! Ernie, come quickly! Come quickly!"

Harry looked up at the owner of the hand on his shoulder; it was a very strange-looking man.

This stranger was short, fat, and stout, with messy gray hair and an anxious expression on his face.

The clothes on him were a strange hodgepodge:

A pinstriped suit, a bright red tie, a black long cloak, and purple pointed boots. He was tucking a dark green top hat under his arm.

Stan jumped onto the sidewalk and stood beside them.

"What do you call Nawei, Minister?"

He asked excitedly.

The short, fat man was wearing a long striped cloak and looked cold and tired.

"Nawei?"

He frowned and said,

"This is Harry Potter."

"I knew it!"

This was the first time Stan had looked at Harry with such a solemn gaze, but Harry couldn't be happy at all.

What did Stan call him just now?

Minister?

Which Minister?

Harry had an extremely bad premonition in his heart.

And Stan was still saying joyfully:

"Ernie! Ernie! Guess who Nawei is, Ernie! It's Harry Potter!

Oh, big shots don't like to reveal their names—

Justin is Mr. Green, and Nawei is actually Harry Potter!

I guessed it long ago—I saw his scar!"

"Yes,"

Fudge said impatiently,

"I am glad the Knight Bus brought Harry, but now Harry and I need to go into the Leaky Cauldron..."

The hand Fudge had on Harry's shoulder increased its force.

"However, what Mr. Green?"

Fudge was always extremely sensitive to some names.

"Mr. Green, look, he's right here—"

As Stan was speaking, a black-haired young wizard happened to walk out of the long stairs of the Knight Bus.

"It's you—Mr. Green—"

Harry felt the force on his shoulder loosen, and the "Minister" in front of him made the most oily voice Harry had ever heard.

This was Sean's first time meeting Fudge.

It was also Fudge's first time meeting Sean.

Of course, they had seen each other in the newspaper I don't know how many times, but face-to-face like this was the first time.

"Minister Fudge."

Sean said slowly.

The short, fat man in front of him narrowed his eyes as if he had heard some sweet words.

"Oh, yes, Minister, but being Minister is not easy these days."

Fudge narrowed his eyes, his face twisted into a twist,

"How about you? Mr. Green, if it were you, would you be willing to be Minister?"

Fudge had thought ten thousand times about the scene of meeting this Mr. Green, but he didn't expect it to be while dealing with a fugitive.

Mr. Green, those people called him Mr. Green, what a stupid name.

To that group of old lunatics in the alchemy world, he was Hermes returning with glory, but to him, Cornelius Fudge, he would only think of the news he had personally pushed to spread widely—

The greatest wizard of the future, a wizard who surpasses Dumbledore.

It was truly exciting—Dumbledore had an opponent, not a lunatic like You-Know-Who; but an orthodox wizard raised by both the McGonagall family and the Prince family.

Whether he was willing or not, the British Wizarding World had long had a group of his solid supporters.

The British Wizarding World of the past had only one loud name, and that was Dumbledore.

As for Fudge?

He clearly knew that his name was only useful by borrowing Dumbledore's.

But now it was different; Dumbledore had an opponent.

His name would soon be useful.

"Mr. Green, let's go together... to tell you the truth, I have been looking forward to meeting you for a long time..."

Fudge said, incidentally pushing Harry into the pub.

Sean followed silently, thinking that the Minister in front of him seemed a bit too enthusiastic.

Walking to the door behind the pub, a hunched figure flashed out, holding a lamp in his hand.

It was that thin, shriveled pub owner Tang Mu, whose teeth had fallen out.

"You found him, Minister!"

Tang Mu said,

"What do you need? Beer? Brandy?"

"Just bring a pot of tea."

Fudge said, narrowing his eyes at Sean, but his hand didn't let go of Harry.

Behind Sean came a loud rubbing sound and heavy breathing; it was Stan and Ernie carrying Harry's box and Hedwig's birdcage, appearing again, looking around excitedly.

"Why didn't you tell us who you were, hmm, Nawei?"

Stan said to Harry with a grin, and Ernie's owl-like face poked out from Stan's shoulder with interest.

"Please bring a private room, Tang Mu."

Fudge said unceremoniously.

"Goodbye."

Harry now understood which Minister it was.

He said sadly to Stan and Ernie, while Tang Mu was leading Fudge toward the passage beside the bar.

"Goodbye, Nawei!"

Stan shouted.

Fudge pushed Harry, followed Tang Mu's lantern through the narrow passage, and entered a small private room.

Tang Mu snapped his fingers, flames burst into the grate, and he bowed and exited the room.

"Sit down, Harry."

Fudge pointed to a chair by the fireplace. Harry sat down, and although there was a fire roasting him, he still felt goosebumps on his arms.

"Please wait a moment, Mr. Green, I have to deal with some things, very soon."

Fudge looked at Sean slightly sideways again, then locked onto Harry.

Look at Fudge's appearance; he looked at Sean tolerantly, but scrutinized Harry.

Harry felt that he was definitely going to be finished.

The matter of casting magic outside of school must have been counted on his head.