Everyone thought it was all over, since the three Champion for the Triwizard Tournament had already been decided.
Their attention was more focused on the four ghosts that had appeared.
There is no doubt that these ghosts are the dead.
After all, it contains the mother of the famous the Chosen One.
Her familiarity with the Slytherin Head of House Potions Class Professor, and their ambiguous eye contact, made it impossible for anyone to look away.
The exposure of Harry Potter gave them a thrilling feeling, like James Potter reborn to catch his wife cheating.
Even with such a captivating story, nearly half of the audience still paid attention to the other three ghosts.
Two of the twins, apart from having brownish hair, looked almost identical to the Weasley twins.
The Prewett surname, once illustrious but now largely forgotten in the Wizarding World, is not unfamiliar to Slytherin, who are obsessed with bloodline theory.
Soon a buzzing sound came from Slytherin, which talked about the history of the Prewett and the whereabouts of the only surviving Prewett.
Molly Weasley's last name before she got married was Prewett.
Before Ron belatedly realized that the Prewett Brothers were his relatives, and before Ginny could take her eyes off her boyfriend, the Weasley twins had already run onto the field and pulled the Prewett Brothers to his side.
"Are you a relative from Mom's side?" "Should we call you uncle?"
The Prewett Brothers raised their eyebrows simultaneously. "How can you say something so stupid?" "After seeing our faces."
Four identical faces began to talk.
The Slytherin boy with dark hair, who was being watched warily by everyone, remained silent, looking towards the Goblet of Goblet of Fire as if something else was about to happen.
Basil was very disappointed.
In the novel Barty Crouch Jr. Crouch Jr. undoubtedly knew about Voldemort's past.
He had a more special feeling for Voldemort; it was less about worship and more about finding another superior kindred spirit in a lonely world, and yearning to be recognized by him.
He knew that the Dark Lord had many things in common with him: both had very disappointing fathers... extremely disappointing; both had shamefully inherited their fathers' titles; and both had happily... very happily... killed their fathers.
He knew Voldemort so well, even about his disgraceful past.
But the film version of Barty Crouch Jr. Crouch Jr. is clearly not like that.
Otherwise, Barty Crouch Jr. Crouch.'s protective charm would have intervened before Dumbledore and Harry's spells touched Tom Riddle, and would have broken free of its disguise.
'What bad luck, I didn't get Barty Crouch Jr.'s memories.'
'However, there's something even more interesting.'
A paper crane took flight shakily and disappeared into the air.
Basil curled his lips into a smile, the eerie blue flames of the Goblet of Fire shimmering in his azure eyes.
It suddenly turned red.
The next second, everyone's eyes were focused on it.
Including Lily, Harry, and Snoop, who are still playing out their love triangle of 'You're not good enough, I'm not good enough, stay away from my mother,' and the Weasley twins, who are discussing the art of pranks.
Immediately, a unified gasp of cold air came from Beauxbatons' side.
Dumbledore stepped forward and extended his hand.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, her hand trembling as she gripped the note. "Ali Ali..."
"Albus, you—" Professor McGonagall tried to step forward, but Dumbledore quickly put the note away.
With everyone's eyes focused on the note, Professor McGonagall wasn't the only one who noticed Dumbledore's lapse in composure.
"You're crying! Dumbledore, you're crying!" The black-haired boy, who had been quiet and doll-like, twisted his delicate features and revealed a ferocious smile like that of Beast.
His words seemed to have lifted a veil of secrecy, and discussions about Dumbledore's tears and the identity of the deceased whose name began with "Ali" spread like an acute infectious disease among the crowd.
Dumbledore quickly read the information on the note, as if to hide something.
"Heroic Spirits: Ariana, Contractor: Phoebe Delacour."
Seeing that the note did not spontaneously combust and turn into flame text hanging high in the sky, and that the gate of flame appeared smoothly as he spoke, Dumbledore breathed a sigh of relief.
The white-haired old man's gaze softened as he watched the red-haired girl in a traditional Chinese dress cautiously emerge from the gate.
Just as he was about to approach and say something, Phoebe's scream rang out.
It was a phoenix spreading its wings, its intricate lines forming a mark on the back of her hand.
The final mark, the appearance of the contractor, seemed to have triggered some mysterious mechanism.
The four marks emitted a dazzling light, and the four people unconsciously raised their hands high.
Four stars converged on the ceiling.
As if a curtain had been drawn back, the stone ceiling lost its gray color, and the vast, boundless sea of stars and its shadows enveloped the crowd.
Not only them, but all the wizards on Earth were captivated by this strange sight.
Fudge and his group, having received the message from the origami cranes, are preparing at the Ministry of Magic to use this as an excuse to cause trouble for Dumbledore.
Voldemort was nursed by Peter Pettigrew in his infancy.
At the top of Nurmengard, Grindelwald is curled up on a stone slab.
Newt, far away in America, is teasing the Pygmy Puff Newt.
The Japanese shaman who was speaking of Arigato.
The "Daoist priests" and "Buddha" of the Dragon Country who were saying "Infinite Heavenly Venerable" and "Amitabha".
An Indian shaman chanting the names of 'Brahma,' 'Lord of Innocence,' and 'One Who Births a Lotus from His Navel.'
'Hurrah', a Russian sorcerer drinking strong liquor.
Wizards of different languages, regions, cultures, and magical systems are now connected, transcending the definition of space to roam this boundless sea of stars.
It's not that no one has tried to use magic to probe everything around them.
But the plasma beams that emerged from the small wooden stick, gestures, Hand Seal, and rings, shimmering with various properties, were all swallowed up by the veil-like sea of stars before them, without even a ripple.
Then, light appeared.
They've arrived.
What's coming?
Before I could ponder any further, the answer appeared automatically in my mind.
The master of the subconscious ocean, the creator of the Sky Whale, the lord of creation, the immortal god has arrived!
A tiny point of light among countless stars, yet it seems to capture everyone's attention like a towering mountain.
In the Setsuna my gaze fell upon it, I inexplicably understood all the causes and reasons.
A game!
An experiment!
An opportunity!
A game combining the dead and the living!
An attempt to defy a predetermined fate!
An opportunity to acquire everything!
Four Champion, four Heroic Spirits.
Three great undertakings that must be accomplished!
The omnipotent power to grant all wishes lies at the end of the game.
The dead are brought back to life, and the living achieve their wishes.
The cosmic sea closed.
The wizards returned to reality.
It was as if everything had gone back to before it happened.
But now, all the wizards' eyes are on the Scottish Highlands, located in western Europe and northern Great Britain.
Hogwarts, the place where the Holy Game begins, and where the wish-granting fruit resides!
The tall, white-haired old man stood behind the French girl. "Phoebe Delacour, I will do everything in my power to help you achieve victory."
The Big Bat gritted its teeth and leaned close to the ear of the person it hated most but also cared about most, whispering, "Potter! You must win!"
Inside the Riddle House, Voldemort, trembling with fear and excitement, commanded his servant, "Go find Barty Crouch Jr..! Cedric must be the victor!"
Emerging from the Floo Network, covered in dust, the red-haired boy stood beside his mother, who was like a little girl with tears welling up in her eyes before his brother. He looked at his friend and said, "Harry, I have to help Krum!"
Krum glanced at Ron, Karkaroff who had already retreated to the side, and then at Phoebe's supporter—the greatest White Wizard Albus Dumbledore —and instantly lost his confidence.
The red-haired girl gritted her teeth, "Ron, you should go help Harry!"
"Ginny ~" the red-haired boy hesitated.
"Harry's failure is inseparable from your help!" the red-haired girl said earnestly.
"Ginny, you—" The red-haired boy stopped mid-sentence, looking toward the entrance to the Entrance Hall.
The sound of hurried footsteps grew louder as they approached.
Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge was in the lead, followed by a pink toad-like woman and several Hit Wizards.
Fudge, abandoning his usual affability, became aggressive, saying, "Dumbledore, you've gotten yourself into big trouble, bigger trouble than ever before."
The pink toad chimed in, "This isn't just something we in Britain know; other countries know it too."
"So?" Dumbledore said calmly.
"So," Fudge smiled, "The girl behind you, and the other ghosts, must be under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Magic."
"We must catch that sorcerer hiding behind the scenes."
All the students and professors looked at Fudge and his men as if they were idiots, but they seemed oblivious.
"Playing tricks?" Dumbledore said with a smile. "Why not be bolder? He is a god! Bringing the dead back to life—according to the Deputy Minister, the scope has even expanded to overseas, even global—why isn't he a god?"
"Aha!" Fudge shouted, trembling with joy. "Got you! It was all your doing, wasn't it? That's why you spoke up for him! That 'he' was you!"
"I was so stupid." Dumbledore closed his eyes.
Pink Toad seemed even happier than Fudge, and immediately gave orders to the Hit Wizard behind him, "Did you hear that? Grab him now! He confessed! From now on, I'm the Headmaster of Hogwarts!"
"Shut up!" Fudge, somewhat angrily. "When did I say I was going to make you the principal?"
In his eyes, Hogwarts was Dumbledore's bottom line, and he only wanted to make Dumbledore lose face.
Just target those strange ghosts.
"Delacour, Shacklebolt, Kingsley, just get rid of these ghosts."
"How foolish I was to speak so kindly to an idiot." Dumbledore took a deep breath.
The dark-haired Slytherin boy floated over and scoffed, "Isn't it obvious? It's absurd for a lion to try to be led by a sheep."
Fudge stared at Dumbledore with a dumbfounded expression, as if he had been suddenly stunned and simply couldn't believe that such a thing had happened.
He uttered a soft, choked voice, "What are you talking about?"
The pink toad turned into a red toad. "He's calling us idiots! Delacour, Shacklebolt, Kingsley, get them!"
The burly man with short, gray hair Delacour, blinked comically at Fudge like a timid little girl, confirming, "Attacking Albus Dumbledore?"
Fudge took a deep breath and, noticing Dumbledore signaling the professor to put his wand away, mustered a little more courage. "Yes."
He drew his wand. "Don't worry, I'm here. Delacour! Shacklebolt! Grab him!"
With his flamboyant, ring-adorned hand clenched into a fist, almost as soon as he finished speaking, Fudge and the other three were pinned to the ground. It was as if an invisible weight was pressing down on their hands and feet, leaving them speechless with rage.
The only surviving dark-skinned wizard Kingsley bowed his head and said, "Dumbledore, at your command."
Out of the corner of his eye, Dumbledore glanced at his sister, who had just realized her identity from the conversation, and his gaze hardened.
"Let's set off and take up our Ministry of Magic!"
The crowd erupted in cheers.
The dark-haired Slytherin boy grinned, as if he had discovered an extremely precious treasure.
Worry was written in the eyes of McGonagall and her group.
If Dumbledore were to become Minister, more than half of the Ministry of Magic would certainly agree.
But this is on the premise of following normal procedures. If force is used, most of the more than half of the supporters will use magic wands to resist.
Even if he were Dumbledore,
Before he could offer any advice, Fawkes Accio, Dumbledore disappeared into the fire.
Hermione lowered her head in worry. "Dumbledore is undoubtedly a genius, but can he really succeed?"
Basil said calmly, "Success is inevitable. Magic Is Might."
——
The eighth floor of the Ministry of Magic —the main hall—was in complete disarray.
The 'corpses' of the male and female wizards were scattered and limp in various places.
At the center of the Fountain of Magical Brethren, statues of centaurs, Goblin, and House-elf hang upside down above the Minister for Magic.
The sound of footsteps echoed on the marble floor as the White Wizard walked towards the elevator with his hands behind his back.
Their steps did not stop for a moment.
The plasma beams of spells that surged toward him like a tidal wave seemed to hit an invisible wall before they could reach his body, bouncing off in all directions and returning to the surrounding wizards and buildings.
The seventh floor of the Ministry of Magic — Department of Magical Sports and Games.
Stepping out of the elevator, banners welcoming Albus Dumbledore to lead the Ministry of Magic were already plastered everywhere.
The sixth floor of the Ministry of Magic – the Department of Magical Transportation.
It remains the same.
The fifth floor of the Ministry of Magic – the Department of International Magical Cooperation.
As above, Percy Weasley waves the Gryffindor flag.
Ministry of Magic, fourth floor – Department of Magical Creatures Management and Control.
Normal office work, ignoring people and videos.
The Ministry of Magic, third floor – Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes.
Singing and dancing.
The second floor of the Ministry of Magic – the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
Director Amelia Bones and Arthur Weasley entered the elevator and led the way.
The first floor of the Ministry of Magic – the Minister for Magic's Office and Logistics.
The figure walked straight to the minister's office, where a nameplate bearing the name of Albus Dumbledore was already hanging in front of the door.
The White Wizard sat down, pulled the headset from the table, and his calm voice echoed throughout the Ministry of Magic, including the ninth floor (Department of Mysteries) and the tenth floor (Wizengamot Chamber), which he had not visited.
"Now, who's in favor, and who's opposed?"