Fudge's gaze darted back and forth between Morris and Harry, a perfectly timed look of confusion on his face.
How did you two end up together?
Before Harry could explain, Morris naturally chimed in, "We met on the Knight Bus."
Fudge nodded and called out to those behind him, "I want a private room, Tom."
The bar owner Tom, immediately came out from behind the bar with a fawning smile, "Would you like something to drink, Minister?"
"No need... let's have a pot of tea." Fudge turned to the two people beside him, "What would you like to eat?"
"It's my treat."
Harry remained silent.
"Sandwich, thank you," Morris said without any hesitation.
Tom led the three through a narrow corridor into a small, dimly lit room with a table, chairs, and a fireplace.
"Please sit down, Harry, and Morris." Fudge took off his coat and casually draped it over the back of the chair.
Harry sat down opposite Fudge, straightening his posture and unconsciously placing his hands on his knees, appearing somewhat nervous. Morris, on the other hand, was much more relaxed, even casually crossing his legs.
He could naturally guess what Fudge had come for.
Sure enough, their conversation thereafter revolved entirely around what Harry had done.
Furthermore, Fudge made no mention whatsoever of any punishment for Harry.
Clearly, the Ministry of Magic doesn't intend to really pursue the minor incident the " The Boy Who Lived " caused at his Muggle relatives' house.
Harry wisely refrained from mentioning it.
Tom quickly brought in a tray with a pot of steaming tea, several porcelain cups, and two ordinary sandwiches.
He quietly placed the things on the table, intending to slip away silently, when Fudge spoke up, " Tom, Harry needs a room; he'll be staying here from now on."
Tom immediately stopped and nodded eagerly. "No problem, Mr. Minister, room number eleven is still available."
"Luckily," Fudge turned to Harry and smiled. "You have a place to stay, Harry. I hope you stay in Diagon Alley for the rest of the summer. It's safe and convenient here. You can go shopping, read books, or hang out with your friends. But be careful not to go out into Muggle territory."
"Thank you, Minister." Harry tried to make his tone sound natural.
This was exactly the result he had dreamed of.
He wouldn't be punished, nor would he have to continue living with that awful family. What else could he complain about?
Fudge seemed very satisfied.
He stood up and grabbed his coat from the back of his chair. "Very well, it's settled then. Harry, you're a sensible boy. I have to go back to the department; I have a pile of papers waiting for me. You can sit a little longer and enjoy your sandwiches."
He had just turned to leave when Morris suddenly spoke up, "Please wait a moment, Minister. I have another question for you."
Fudge paused, glanced at his watch, then sat back down. "Alright, Morris, but five minutes at most."
Morris lowered his crossed leg and leaned forward slightly.
"Minister, what kind of group are the 'Unspeakable '?"
Fudge was clearly taken aback.
" The Unspeakable?" He frowned. "They're staff members of the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic, responsible for all sorts of research... Why are you suddenly asking about this?"
Harry pricked up his ears—this was the first time he had ever heard the name " The Unspeakable."
Morris said calmly, "I was invited to join them, and I thought you would certainly know about it, Minister."
Fudge's eyes widened in shock. "You? Invited to join the Unspeakable? I remember you were only a second-year student."
"I'll be a junior next year," Morris said, his tone unchanged. "It was Mr. Vaughn from the Department of Mysteries who invited me to work there after graduation, but I refused because I have absolutely no idea what that department does."
Fudge stared at Morris for a moment, then shook his head. " Morris, unless there's an emergency, even I don't know exactly what the Department of Mysteries is researching. You should know, it's all classified."
Morris was slightly surprised.
It sounds rather absurd that Fudge, as Minister for Magic, had no idea what his subordinate departments were doing.
Is the Minister for Magic really that embarrassed?
"And what are the hiring criteria for the Unspeakable?" Morris pressed, changing the subject. "At least, you should know what kind of abilities would interest them, right?"
Fudge gave a helpless look.
"I don't know," he said. "That department is special."
"Isn't that a bit too mysterious?" Morris raised an eyebrow.
In fact, Fudge simply didn't care about that department.
In his eyes, the Department of Mysteries was a long-established but marginalized retirement home within the Ministry of Magic.
A group of eccentrics, completely detached from reality, gathered there.
They don't participate in policy-making, don't report their work to him, and don't even attend regular meetings.
Within the Ministry of Magic, this department is as if it doesn't exist at all.
Although as Minister for Magic, he had the authority to know some of the research conducted by the Unspeakable, however...
There's no need.
He already has enough troubles on his hands.
"In short," Fudge winked at Morris, "If you're interested in working at the Ministry of Magic in the future, I suggest you aim for a more promising position."
"I'll consider it," Morris said.
His interest in the Unspeakable population grew even stronger.
After Fudge left, Morris took out the Daily Prophet, which he had swiped from Stan, from his clothes and leisurely flipped through it while eating a sandwich.
He paused when he saw the picture of Sirius Black.
" Black, huh..."
Morris took a bite of the sandwich, and the sauce splattered out, landing right on Black's eye in the photograph.
Harry only then realized what was happening.
"Wait!" He stood up, looking at Morris in surprise, and belatedly said, "You want to join the Ministry of Magic?"
"It was just an invitation," Morris corrected.
Harry didn't know what expression to make.
They're both students, yet the other person has already been invited to work for the Ministry of Magic?
Why is it so outstanding?
He shook his head, then quickly felt relieved.
Morris was an unconventional person.
Harry Potter began his new life.
It has to be said that this was a wonderful experience Harry had never had before.
Now he can leisurely wash up every morning, then go downstairs to the lobby, where his boss Tom, always prepares a hot breakfast for him with a smile.
Then he can go to Diagon Alley and browse those interesting shops.
Ah, this is the life a wizard should have.
Of course, another important reason why he was able to live such a comfortable life was the substantial inheritance left to him by his parents.
In the blink of an eye, more than a week has passed.
When Harry went downstairs that morning, he found Morris sitting at a table by the window, staring blankly out the window.
Seeing Harry come down, Morris turned his head, a rare, expectant expression on his face.
"Good morning, Harry." His voice was lighter than usual.
"Good morning." Harry pulled out a chair and sat down.
Without a word, Morris stood up immediately. "Come with me, Harry. I have a treasure I'd like to show you."