Hogwarts executioner

Chapter 116 Professor McGonagall’s petty mind

On the afternoon of February th, Nagini was entrusted to Hayley's care. William followed McGonagall to the principal's office. Dumbledore had been waiting for a long time.

"Good afternoon, principal." William greeted.

"I wish you victory, child, I believe the entire wizarding world will be amazed by you." Dumbledore smiled while sitting on the stool behind his desk.

"Thank you, principal." William said.

"It's time to go, William." McGonagall said standing in front of the fireplace.

Floo powder is a magical alchemical work invented by Ignatia Willsmith in the thirteenth century. Since its inception, there have been no reported shortages of this item, and no one knows who made it. The price has remained unchanged for a hundred years, two Sickles per spoonful.

It is strictly controlled by mysterious wizards from production to sales, and no one has ever been able to catch their source.

Many people want to crack this mysterious force, but they can't catch anything. They only know a little information about the founder.

Mysterious, rich, and powerful.

Therefore, William has always believed that the pool of water in the European and American wizarding world may seem small, but it is actually very deep.

William was deeply afraid of the pure-blood families behind the scenes who had watched Voldemort and his Death Eaters rise, strangle the Order of the Phoenix, and fight against the dark wizards.

Of course, if he becomes stronger in the future, he will find a way to squeeze in and become a rich, powerful, and powerful behind-the-scenes boss like Tina.

"William, you only need to grab a handful of this powder and read the destination. Sprinkle the powder on the fireplace, and when a green flame emerges from the fireplace, you can walk in and start the space teleportation."

William watched McGonagall demonstrate, followed the steps, and walked into the flames.

In an instant, I found that my body had lost gravity, and I was in close contact with my head on the ground. The martial arts I had practiced for decades in the virtual world involuntarily reflected on my own. With a gentle press of my hands, I turned around and stood in front of the fireplace.

"Pa bang bang..."

"Wonderful, such handsome movements. This is the first time in decades that I have seen people not facing the ground." An old man sitting on a recliner applauded and laughed.

Professor McGonagall said expressionlessly: "William, it's time for us to leave."

William smiled shyly at the old wizard, took out his wand and cast a cleaning spell on himself, cleaning the soot from his hands.

After completing registration at the Ministry of Magic, the two went to the French Ministry of Magic through the international floo network of the British Ministry of Magic.

William once again avoided being caught in the ashes with a somersault, and was immediately photographed by a bearded photographer standing next to a female reporter near the entrance of the lobby with a "click".

The female reporter is only 1 meters tall, which is considered a relatively short type in the European and American wizarding circles.

She smiled broadly and was obviously very satisfied with William's appearance. She was even more proud that she had finally defended the British master and apprentice.

They caused a lot of trouble to the competition team before the people arrived. Reporters like this kind of troublemaker who makes big things happen at every turn.

If there are no troublemakers, how can we fatten the pockets of journalists?

Everyone has to eat.

Unlike the British Ministry of Magic, which arranges old people to guard it, due to the unrestricted battle between British werewolves and French vampires, the French Ministry of Magic has strengthened protection. The fireplace is guarded by a female Auror and a male Auror.

The female Auror looked to be about thirty years old. She was wearing a slim-fitting wizard robe and sitting on the desk. When she saw William coming out, she didn't say anything. She said to McGonagall who came out first: "Welcome you two. Paris, France, please hand over the pass issued by your country’s Department of International Magical Cooperation to me for review.”

The male Auror was leaning against the wall, holding a wand in his hand, and he could cast spells instantly as soon as he lifted it.

McGonagall handed over the "British Ministry of Magic Pass". After the female Auror opened the certificate, her expression suddenly turned bad. She compared it with the two, nodded, stamped the certificate, and then reminded with a mocking face: "Because Your Ministry of Magic has driven the damn werewolves to France. It’s been a quiet night outside lately, so please try not to go out.”

"Thank you, but regardless of your concern, you should think of more ways to catch those illegal elements." As a British person, Professor McGonagall had strong opinions on the Ministry of Magic's policies, but he did not hesitate in his overall position.

William snickered in his heart. He did not expect that one of his thefts would cause a huge storm in the wizarding world.

Whether it was the werewolf radicals who left the UK and were suppressed by the French Ministry of Magic, or the werewolves and vampires went to war, in the long run, it would consume the power of potential allies of the You-Know-Who.

"Hmph." The female Auror snorted coldly.

The male Auror took a serious look at Mag and said nothing.

The good-looking female reporter's eyes lit up when she saw William approaching. She had blond hair, fair skin, blue eyes, and clear facial features. Her piercing eyes revealed a smile. Her slim-fitting suits and leather shoes made the little boy even more attractive. Photogenic.

The female reporter quickly said to McGonagall and William: "Principal McGonagall, Mr. Smith, I am Betty Lances, a reporter from the French "Liberty Press". Can you tell us a few words about this competition?"

Mag paused and nodded.

Betty's smile became even brighter, and she asked: "More than ten years ago, Principal McGonagall, you were defeated miserably by the chess king Bill Jones. This time you brought the genius wizard William Smith here. Are you prepared to win the championship and take revenge?"

McGonagall, who was very clear about the ethics of journalists in the wizarding world, was not angry. She just corrected: "First of all, I am the vice-principal of Hogwarts. Secondly, my rating in the competition that year was 78, and Mr. Jones's was 82. It was just a small defeat. More than a dozen In years, I was actually the wizard player closest in score to Mr. Jones, so I don’t understand what you mean by a crushing defeat.”

Betty looked slightly sluggish and said awkwardly: "Oh, Ms. McGonagall is the strongest wizard chess player in the UK. Being able to be close to the chess champion is indeed enough to prove your strength."

This rookie reporter had indeed waited for the opportunity, but it was clear that his professional level was far behind that of his predecessors.

McGonagall corrected again: "Ms. Lancers, you are wrong again. There are many wizard chess masters in the UK. I am just an insignificant amateur among them. For example, my student William learned from him last month. From the beginning of chess, I never beat him once."

The other foreign wizards who were going through the formalities all snickered after hearing Mag's words, and stood aside, ready to eat.

It is also very interesting to see the two major wizards in the magical world, England and France, confront each other.

The French people present looked cold. What do you mean by this? You, the master who is closest to a chess king, are not only not popular in the UK, but you can't even beat one of your own students.

Even if it’s just to defeat the French chess champion and promote his own student, it’s so shameless!

Such a slap in the face is too much!