Harry Potter’s Raven’s Claw

Seeing that the Muggle Prime Minister was subdued, Scrimgeour's expression improved a lot, and his palm slowly left his wand.

And the Muggle Prime Minister opposite him was also secretly relieved.

At this point, he could see clearly that the man in front of him who looked like a lion was definitely not a qualified politician.

Real politicians are definitely not happy and angry. They are just like the "rational people" assumed in economics. They are cold-blooded, have no emotions, and only have interests in their eyes!

As long as the interests are big enough, it doesn't matter how much you humiliate him.

Just like the previous Minister of Magic, Fudge, although he despised Muggles in his heart, he still maintains the most basic etiquette and laughs in conversations with Muggle Prime Ministers.

It's just that his work is obviously not in place, because anyone who has been with him can see his hidden arrogance.

On the other hand, the new Minister of Magic named Scrimgeour in front of him does not have the hypocrisy common to politicians, but more of the iron blood and directness of soldiers.

'This should be a high-ranking official from the military, and it is very likely that he is the leader who previously mastered the military power of the Ministry of Magic! ’

The Muggle Prime Minister was quick to judge, which on the other hand confirmed his initial suspicions.

Under the pressure of the powerful force of the mysterious man who can't even mention his name, there should also be a civil strife within the Ministry of Magic, which led to the forced resignation of the original Minister of Magic, and Scrimgeour, who held military power, took over the banner. !

Thinking like this, the corners of the Muggle Prime Minister's mouth rose, because generally leaders of this type of warlord have a characteristic, that is, they are easy to be fooled!

"Minister Scrimgeour, I have read a lot of information about the mysterious man who can't even mention his name, so I have some understanding." The Muggle Prime Minister pretended to be sincere and said, "He seems to be an extreme Radicals, just like the war criminal named Grindelwald during World War II, he advocates violence and hopes to provoke ordinary people, which is what you call a war between Muggles and wizards, right?"

Scrimgeour nodded silently, although he knew very well that the Muggle Prime Minister metaphor was outrageous and that Voldemort was no match for that Grindelwald, but he did not correct the other's mistakes, but wanted to hear The other party wants to say something.

"Minister Scrimgeour, we are all people of peace, and we exist to enable our people to live and work in peace," the Muggle Prime Minister continued, "and war madmen like the mysterious man who can't even be named. It is our common enemy, that is, we are a team."

After speaking, the Muggle Prime Minister looked at Scrimgeour, but this time there was no expression on Scrimgeour's face.

He smiled slightly and said tentatively:

"I have learned from our previous conversation that the current situation of your ministry is not optimistic, it can even be said to be very difficult. And since we are comrades in the same camp, I think our country may be able to provide some assistance to your ministry, Whether military or humanitarian..."

"It doesn't need to be!"

Scrimgeour rejected him almost without hesitation.

Muggles who almost all wizards think are inferior to help them wizards?

What are you kidding?

Not only would this violate the International Law of Wizarding Secrecy, but it would also show that the Ministry of Magic was incompetent!

Scrimgeour felt that the other party was insulting him, he glared at the other party and said:

"This is a war between wizards and wizards, you Muggles can't do anything! Go and see, the aftermath of just a dozen wizarding battles shatters Newcastle Bridge, a boring holiday experiment for a Hogwarts student It snowed heavily in North London in midsummer,

Not to mention that a virus leak caused by the capture of an alchemist workshop caused a plague in Liverpool! These seem trivial to us, but can you handle them? If nothing else, I'm afraid you are in a very difficult situation right now, right? "

The Muggle Prime Minister's face turned blue and purple, and Scrimgeour's words were undoubtedly slapping himself in the face.

It's just that his good political literacy still made him resist the desire to turn his face immediately. He leaned back on the back of the chair and said coldly along the other party's words:

"Yes, the current situation in our country is indeed not optimistic. Even I am being criticized by others, but whose fault is this? These disasters caused by your wizards have claimed thousands of lives, Aren't you ashamed?"

Scrimgeour didn't speak again, he wanted to admit that he didn't care about the lives of those Muggles at all, but those words couldn't be said in plain sight, so he had to keep silent.

"Since you don't need our assistance, then please deal with the mysterious man who can't even mention his name as soon as possible. Even if you can't deal with it, please suppress him and his henchmen as soon as possible, and don't let them live in Muggles again. What the hell is going on in the world!" The Muggle Prime Minister lit a cigar again, and said, breathing heavily, "If you really can't do it, then I'll have to do it myself to protect my people. I believe that when it comes to lethality, bullets and spells should be the same."

"Are you threatening me?"

Scrimgeour's eyes narrowed slightly, and those who knew him knew that this was a sign of his extreme anger.

The Muggle Prime Minister on the opposite side seemed to be frightened too. The cigar in his hand fell to the ground again, burning a big hole in the carpet.

"No no no! You misunderstood! Please don't get excited," said the Muggle Prime Minister, waving his hands hilariously. "I mean we will use the necessary force to protect our people from harm, not that we will Attack wizards, but if necessary we'll... er... you know what I mean? I can't watch my people being ravaged!"

Seeing the somewhat comical appearance of the Muggle Prime Minister, Scrimgeour's mouth twitched in a mocking arc. He stood up with a smile, looked down at the other party, and said mockingly:

"Hehe, you can try it and see if your scraps are useful. But what I think is that you are doing useless work."

With that, Scrimgeour's figure twisted and disappeared.

The office was silent again, and the Muggle Prime Minister looked at the empty sofa chair opposite, and a smile appeared on his face.

To this day, most wizards still think that Muggles are like ants, and they can all be crushed to death by raising their hands.

This view was true a thousand years ago, but times have changed!

The explosive growth of technology in the past thousand years has not only made their quality of life higher and higher, but has also given them enough strategic power to rival wizards!

The wizards are standing still, their magical power is developing too slowly!

It can be said that Muggles now have far surpassed wizards in some aspects!

But these so-called wizards still maintain the pride of the old times.

Just like the previous Minister of Magic named Scrimgeour, in the previous conversation with the other party, the Muggle Prime Minister only read one word on the other party's face, that is arrogance!

However, arrogance is good!

Now the power of Muggles is still too weak, and if a war breaks out directly with wizards, the final result can only be a lose-lose.

But the prime ministers of all countries believe that if they are given enough time, it will be extremely easy to defeat the wizard.

Because compared to magic, the speed of development of technology is too fast!

Only the other party is arrogant enough to despise Muggles.

Only in this way can Muggles have a longer time to continue to develop!

And when the Muggles develop a more terrifying force, the wizards will no longer be noble!

They will be forced to open their doors under the bombardment of cannons, conduct exchanges and free trade with other countries, and at that time, the power of wizards will be completely integrated into the Muggle world.

Thinking like this, the smile on the Muggle Prime Minister's face grew even brighter.

He has begun to fantasize about how he will be able to cast magic someday!

Great personal power, who doesn't like it?

But suddenly, he jumped up from his chair as if he had remembered something, and screamed:

"Damn it! I forgot to ask them to deal with the plague in Liverpool!"

Speaking of which, the Muggle Prime Minister wanted to run to the portrait and call for him again, but this time to his disappointment, the little man on the portrait disappeared.

"Tsk, you're so careful." The Muggle Prime Minister cursed, "Forget it, let's talk about it in a few days, anyway, the people of Liverpool won't die for the time being."

Having said that, the Muggle Prime Minister sat back in his office chair, looked up at the ceiling, and fell into fantasy again.

"Resurrection from the dead? Good!"

...

In the early morning, in a cafe on the streets of London, listening to the soothing music playing in the store, Mike in casual sportswear sat on the spacious booth like an ordinary person who was ready to rest just after a morning run, staring at him. The flow of people coming and going outside the window.

He is waiting.

Kingsley, the pure-blooded black wizard who was born in voodoo, insisted on setting the meeting place for the two of them here.

In this regard, although Mike felt very strange, he did not refuse.

After all, a Muggle cafe is a better choice than the Leaky Cauldron or the Hog's Head for an intimate gathering like this, at least with fewer wizards.

"Sir, your coffee!"

A beautiful voice brought Mike's thoughts back, he turned his head to look, and saw a young waitress with a youthful look looking at it with diligence, but in her hand, she was holding a coffee set.

"thanks."

Taking the plate, Mike gave her a bright smile, and the latter scratched at Mike's palm when Mike reached for the plate.

Then she licked her lips at Mike again, and then twisted her body back to the bar.

The meaning implied by the other party is obvious. If Mike wants to, I believe that a dewy marriage must be inevitable.

However, Mike is not much interested in this kind of thing.

He is not an innocent young man who doesn't understand anything, so he knows very well that he can't touch a woman who takes the initiative to embrace her.

Because you don't even know if the other party is clean or not.

Perhaps in the cognition of normal people, those women who specialize in these services are the most filthy ones. When they think of many of them, the first thing that comes to mind is x-disease.

But in fact, those professional women are much cleaner than many women who play in society.

At the very least, most of the other units have regular physical examinations, and those social girls, Mike doesn't think they will have that awareness, they are just pursuing pure hedonism.

So compared to this dewy marriage, Mike is more willing to go to those professional places if there is a need.

Looking at the writhing back of the waitress, Mike's mouth rose slightly, rubbing his hands and getting ready to enjoy his coffee.

But at this moment, a deep voice came from behind him.

"It seems that your beauty is not shallow."

Mike's hand holding the coffee cup froze slightly, but he didn't look back, instead he said in a low voice casually:

"How long have you been here?"

"Longer than you."

"Oh, is that right?" Mike took a sip of coffee and felt a little bitter, so he tore off the sugar packet and added it to it. "Dumbledore should have told you everything, right?"

"Yes, he asked me to cooperate with you." Kingsley took a cup of coffee and sat across from Mike, "To be honest, I don't really understand why he believes in you, a student who hasn't graduated yet. But since he opened his mouth, Then I can only cooperate. So, what do you want me to do?"

"I just want to know Chris Flint, and the Flint family, where they are now."

"You just want to know this? Oh, well, they're..." Kingsley gave Mike a surprised look and was ready to tell the whole story, but halfway through, he stared as if thinking of something With wide eyes, he looked at Mike in disbelief, "Are you going to hit the door directly?"

Mike didn't speak, just stirred the coffee in his hand.

But what he meant was already obvious, and if he didn't deny it, that would be the default.

"You're crazy!" Kingsley stood up abruptly, snarling at Mike with his hands on the table, "Do you know how many people will die by doing this?"

Kingsley's loud voice startled the waitress who had been paying attention to Mike's movements. She couldn't hear the conversation between the two due to the curse, but she looked at the man who was snarling at the handsome golden guy. Black strong man, the waitress was still panicking.

"Otherwise, should I still call the police?"

The waitress muttered to herself and took out a flip phone from her pocket.

On the other side, looking at Kingsley who was glaring at him, Mike also stopped stirring the coffee.

"Of course I know, but what does that matter? ""