The Ministry of Magic Exploded

Because bloodline inheritance is not easy, parents tend to spoil their children and hope they will become excellent wizards.

When it comes to children's education, even Albus Dumbledore and his ilk would never compromise.

Early the next morning, on the first floor of the Ministry of Magic.

Dolores Umbridge, as usual, strolled leisurely into his territory, the ministerial liaison office.

She's not a high-ranking official yet; she's just Fudge's secretary, and her daily tasks include writing speeches and organizing mail.

She had just brewed a cup of tea with triple the sugar and was preparing to enjoy a leisurely morning when the office door was rudely pushed open.

A large flock of owls swooped in, and to her astonishment, dropped the bright red envelopes they were holding and hurriedly flew away.

Seeing the mountain of Howler piled up on his desk, Umbridge finally realized what was happening, and his face instantly turned to horror.

Before she could even reach out to touch them, the Howler that had reached their destinations had already been activated.

The next second, the entire Ministry of Magic was in complete chaos!

Hundreds of Howler exploded one after another like a series of blasting bombs, leaving Umbridge, who was the first to be hit, completely dumbfounded.

My eardrums were ringing, like they'd been hit with a crucible; I couldn't hear anything except for the piercing noise.

Immediately afterwards, her small office suffered the consequences.

The sound wave crashed through half a wall, and the entire floor was engulfed in a deafening roar that could be clearly heard even in the Auror Office downstairs.

In the Minister's Office, Fudge spilled his coffee all over his crotch, scalding him so much he almost jumped up.

Several Auror rushed in, their Muffliato the incantation, and shielded him behind them, warily scanning their surroundings.

After a period of chaos, Umbridge finally came over and stammered out what had happened, and everyone realized it was a false alarm.

Looking at the ashes of the Howler on the ground, no one could say what those letters had actually said; it was all drowned out by the noise.

Fudge was furious, pointing at Umbridge and yelling, "Set up a mail censorship room right now!"

"Find a few employees who know how to use counter- Howler spells. From now on, all letters must be inspected before they can be delivered!"

After cursing, he glared fiercely at Umbridge, cursing her eight hundred times in his mind.

You can't even keep an eye on a few letters? If you weren't so good at flattery, I would have fired you long ago!

"Cornelius," Mrs. Greengrass stepped out from behind the crowd, her tone flat.

Fudge's expression immediately changed; his anger vanished in an instant, replaced by a forced smile, "Director Greengrass, what brings you here?"

In terms of rank, he was a minister, while Mrs. Greengrass was merely the Department of Magical Transportation; there was no need for such formality.

But Gibbon was close to the Pure-blood faction, Greengrass family had extensive connections and deep roots in the Department of Magical Transportation.

With an influence comparable to that of Amelia Bones, the second-in-command of the Ministry of Magic, he dared not offend him easily.

To put it bluntly, Fudge always fawned over anyone who had status and didn't threaten his power.

"I wrote one of those Howler, and I know what it said," Mrs. Greengrass said.

He then called out to a few more people behind him, all of whom were parents whose children attended Slytherin, and their faces were all grim.

At the same time, Hogwarts Great Hall was also in complete chaos.

There were also hundreds of Howler, but fortunately the Great Hall was spacious, so the owls arrived in batches.

Aside from covering their ears due to the noise, the young wizards managed to hear quite a bit of what was being said.

The young wizards were truly amazed; they heard more swear words in just one morning than in the entire previous decade combined.

The studious ones even pulled out parchment and quills to frantically take notes, muttering to themselves, "This is good, I can use it next time I argue with Malfoy!"

All sorts of warm greetings were showered upon Albus Dumbledore and Lockhart, but unfortunately, neither of them were present.

It definitely diminished some of the fun of watching a play, but the professors were all there! At the High Table, the professors practically wanted to bury their heads in their plates and pretend to be dead.

The deans clenched their fists, their faces turning red; Professor Flitwick shrank under the table, wishing he could disappear on the spot.

Even Snape lost his gloating mood; the parents were calling Lockhart useless, and in doing so, they dragged all the professors into it as well.

The subtext is, "You're colleagues, so you're probably not that close!"

Professor McGonagall was so angry that her fur stood on end, like a cat that had been provoked, that she swallowed the pickled fish off her plate in one gulp.

She rushed out of the Great Hall in her high heels, forgetting even to take her lesson plan.

While things were in complete chaos here, Tom was having a great time.

When each Howler was about to burn out, he would use magic to stop it from spontaneously combusting and stuff them all into a sack.

Astoria leaned closer and gestured, asking, "Tom, why are you leaving these letters?"

To protect her and Daphne's ears, Tom had already cast Muffliato spell on them.

Tom pointed towards the top floor, Astoria immediately understood: If the people involved didn't hear it, what a waste to burn it!

Let's restore it and play it again, then send it to Albus Dumbledore and annoy him before class.

Daphne was sent to reserve a seat in the Transfiguration classroom first, while Tom, carrying a sack of Howler, trotted up to the top floor.

As soon as he reached the Headmaster's Office door, the Gargoyle came to life, grinning at him. "Kid, here to argue with Albus Dumbledore again?"

"It's not that I'm making a fuss, it's that someone wants to 'surprise' him." Tom looked around, puzzled.

"Where do we put the letter to the principal? There's not even a mailbox?"

"Usually we just put it in there, but if he's not here, we put it in my mouth." The Gargoyle winked and looked incredibly smug.

Tom raised an eyebrow and grinned mischievously. "Then you'd better catch it."

As he spoke, he pulled open the sack, revealing a bag full of bright red Howler: "Open your mouth, I'm in a bad mood today, here's some 'appetizer' for you."

"Holy crap? So many Howler? All for Albus Dumbledore?" The Gargoyle was instantly terrified, not even having time to shut up.

"Of course, this is all from the students' parents' heartfelt wishes, you must accept it carefully."

Tom pried open its jaw with one hand and poured the contents in rapidly with the other, gurgling and shoving it in.

In no time, all the envelopes were filled in, and the belly of the Gargoyle visibly swelled by two sizes.

Tom patted its belly, turned and scurried away. "Alright, hurry up and call Albus Dumbledore come and get it."

"Otherwise, it might explode inside your stomach, and don't blame me if it doesn't warn you."

The Gargoyle remained standing, yelling at the top of its lungs, "Albus Dumbledore! Come quick! This bastard is too wicked; he's trying to kill me!"

After waiting for a full five minutes, Albus Dumbledore came out looking helpless.

At this moment, Gargoyle, making it look like a crucible about to explode.

The Hogwarts professors were still recovering all morning.