Vol 2 Chapter 1267:

　　 At least it was rewarding, Fanlin thought in a daze, and walked quickly to the elevator with Ron.
It is worth mentioning that Ron became soggy again. After Fanlin lifted the spell, although Ron found a solution in general, the water pipes and the ceiling were not as easy to deal with as expected. Lin Yixin stared at those spells and magic circles, and finally Ron needed to ask professionals for help.
　　 In fact, Ron himself is also a professional, of course, this is Ron’s current identity.
　　 Inevitably, the water once again made Ron feel embarrassed by you.
　　 And the most intuitive, the wet footprints in the corridor are the best proof.
　　 But when he opened the elevator, Fanlin was a little dazed. The people in front of him were familiar, but he hesitated for a while.
　　 "You two..." said the tall man before him.
　　 "Ah, hello..." Ron scratched his head, he was not feeling well now.
　　 "So, what the is going on with you two? Ron and Fanlin are me, Harry!" Harry said in the car, now he is in a mighty size...
　　 "Harry! Ah, I forgot what you look like..." Ron said, "Those water pipes are really annoying."
　　 "Harry?" Fanlin was taken aback, and he pointed behind Harry, "Why is Hermione not with you?"
　　 "She had to go to the courtroom below with Umbridge, she couldn't refuse, and..."
　　 But before Harry could finish speaking, the elevator stopped again. After the door opened, Mr. Weasley walked in while talking with an elderly witch, her hair tied high, like an anthill.
　　 "Oh, hello, Ray," Mr. Weasley heard the sound of dripping from Ron's robes and looked around. "Did your wife not come to ask anything today? Uh-what happened? Why are you soaked all over?"
　　 "It's raining in Yaxley's office," Ron said a little evasively, trying hard not to let himself see Mr. Weasley's eyes.
　　 There will always be some special connections between relatives, right? Ron guesses that he is afraid that he will not be able to continue after meeting Mr. Weasley.
　　 "I can't stop it, so...so I think I should go to Bernie Pillsworth, I think they said..."
　　 Ron stammered.
　　 "Yes, it has been raining in many offices recently," Mr. Weasley said. "Have you tried to find Metro Lojinx Recato? It works for Bletchley."
　　 "Metro Luojinx Recato?" Ron whispered. "No, I haven't yet. Thank you, Dad... I mean, thank you, Arthur."
　　 The elevator door opened, and the old witch with the anthill hairstyle walked out. Ron rushed past her and disappeared into Fanlin and Harry's vision.
　　 However, without waiting for the two of them to follow, they found that Percy Weasley strode into the elevator and blocked their way.
　　 Percy was burying his head in a few pages of paper, reading something, and after the elevator door jingled shut, he realized that he was in an elevator with his father.
　　 When he looked up and saw Mr. Weasley, his face immediately turned red like a carrot. He ran out quickly when the elevator door opened again.
　　 So Harry and Fanlin were going to try to get off the elevator again, but this time, Mr. Weasley blocked them with his arm, Harry to be precise.
　　 "Wait a minute, Lan Coen." The elevator closed, and they dinged down. At this time Mr. Weasley said: "I heard you have news about Dirk Creswell."
　　 Harry felt that Mr. Weasley's anger was intensified by the skirmish with Percy just now, so he thought his best choice was to play stupid.
"what did you say?"
　　 "Don't be stupid, Lan Cohen," Mr. Weasley said grumpily, "you caught the wizard who falsified his genealogy, didn't you?"
　　 "I... what if I catch it?" Harry said.
　　 "I said, Dirk Creswell is a wizard ten times better than you," Mr. Weasley said softly, and the elevator went deeper down. "If he escapes from Azkaban alive, you have to explain to him, not to mention his wife, son, and his friends..."
　　 "Arthur," Harry interrupted him, "You know you are being watched, don't you?"
　　 "Are you threatening me, Lan Cohen?" Mr. Weasley said loudly.
　　 "No," Harry said, "This is true! They are watching your every move -" The elevator door opened. They have reached the central hall. Mr. Weasley gave Harry a stern look and walked out of the elevator quickly.
　　 Harry stood there, shaking slightly. How he wished he became someone else instead of Lan Coen... The elevator door jingled shut again, and now only Fanlin and Harry were left.
　　 "Mr. Weasley is no longer suitable for staying here, Harry!" Fanlin said silently, and Harry did not respond, just listening to the slow descent of the elevator.
　　 Now when Ron goes to deal with those rainy offices, he and Fanlin have to try to rescue Hermione.
　　 To be precise, if there is any problem, there is no suspense, Fanlin will definitely pull out his wand.
　　 "We're here!" Fanlin said, and then went out first.
　　 This is a torch-lit stone passage that is completely different from the corridors with wooden floors and carpets above.
　　 The elevator creaked away again, and it was a bit cold around, which made Harry tremble slightly, looking at the black door at the entrance of the Department of Mysteries in the distance.
　　 Fanlin was standing by and waiting. Only Harry had been to the interrogation room. It's better not to run around around the Department of Mystery.
　　 Harry stepped forward, not to the black door, but to the doorway in his memory that led to a flight of stairs down to the courtroom.
　　At the same time, Harry slowly walked down the stairs while conceiving various possible plans in his mind, a plan that could reduce the risk of rescue.
Fanlin hasn't even recovered completely. It is obviously not a good idea to do something here. There are still some decoy bombs on his body, but he may knock on the door of the courtroom and go directly in as Lan Coen and ask to speak to Mafada. A few words would be better?
　　 Of course, he doesn’t know if Lan Cohen is a person who is important enough to successfully complete the plan, and even if he manages to do it, Hermione’s disappearance may trigger a search before they escape the Ministry of Magic...
　　 Harry was lost in thought, and didn't immediately notice the unusual chill that was approaching him. He seemed to have fallen into the cold mist. Every step he takes, he feels more cold, which is enough to freeze his throat and tear his internal organs. Then he felt that kind of despair, a sense of helplessness enveloped him, spreading in his body...
　　 "There is a dementor!" Fanlin frowned. The feeling of cold forehead made him very uncomfortable. It was different from the cold temperature, it was a kind of tremor from the heart.
　　 When he got down to the bottom of the flight of stairs and turned to the right, Fanlin and Harry saw a terrible scene.
　　 The dark passage outside the trial room was crowded with tall figures wearing black turbans. Their faces were completely hidden in their cloaks. In the silent passage, only their intermittent hoarse voices were breathing.
　　 The Muggle wizards who were brought for questioning were obviously frightened, huddled and shivered on the cold wooden bench. Most of them buried their faces deep into their hands, perhaps out of instinct to protect themselves under the eager, greedy lips of the Dementor. Some people are accompanied by family members, while others sit alone.
　　 Those dementors glided back and forth in front of them.
　　 The cold, helplessness and despair there made Harry feel like a disaster. Overcoming it, Harry told himself, but he knew that he couldn't summon a patron saint here without revealing himself.
　　 "Calm down, Harry!" Fanlin stretched out his hand and took Harry, motioning him not to use his wand.
　　 No one knows Harry’s feelings about dementors better than Fanlin, especially when these dementors threaten others, naturally, this will make Harry feel sympathetic.
"I know." Harry took a deep breath and had to walk forward as quietly as possible. Every step Harry could feel the numbness that quietly filled his mind, but he forced himself to think about the series. Friends, they need him.
　　 It was a terrible thing to go through those tall black figures: when Harry and Fanlin passed by them, the eyeless face hidden under the cloak suddenly turned around.
Harry was convinced that the dementors felt him, felt it, maybe, a life with some hope and joy was there, in that terribly, in the almost freezing silence, a dungeon on the left side of the corridor Suddenly the door was opened, and screams echoed out.
"No, no, I'm half-blood, I'm half-blood, let me tell you! My father is a wizard, he is, check his information, Archie Alderton, he is a famous broomstick designer, go Check his information, I tell you... take your hand away from me, take your hand away..."
　　 "This is the last warning for you," Umbridge said in her sweet, magically amplified voice, so that it still sounded clear in the man's desperate cry.
　　 "If you struggle again, I will give you a'Dementor Kiss'"
　　 The man's screams subsided, but his dry sobbing still echoed in the corridor.
　　 "Take him away," Umbridge said. Two dementors appeared in the hallway of the trial room, grabbing the arm of the wizard who looked unconscious with their foul, scabs. They held him and slid away along the corridor. Everywhere they went, they slowly darkened and lost the light until they couldn't see anything.
　　 "Next... Mary Katemore," Umbridge called. A small woman stood up, shaking from head to toe. She was wearing a plain robe, and her black hair was softly twisted into a bun behind her head. Her face was bloodless. As she passed the dementors, Harry and Fanlin hid under the cloaks of invisibility and could clearly see her shaking.
　　 When the door closed slowly, Harry and Fanlin quickly followed her into the dungeon...
　　 This is completely instinctive, without any prior plans, because he hates the scene when she walks into the dungeon alone.
　　 This is not the dungeon where Harry used to be interrogated for abusing magic. This one is smaller, even though the ceiling is still the same low... It gives a feeling of being imprisoned at the bottom of a deep well, like suffering from claustrophobia. There were more dementors inside, standing blankly in the corner of the room away from the room like sentinels, and the chill spread over the entire dungeon.
　　 Umbridge sat behind the railing of the trial stand, with Yaxley on one side and Hermione who was as pale as Mrs. Katemore on the other.
　　 For an instant, Harry could clearly feel that Fanlin was about to rush out, but this time it was him to stop Fanlin.
　　 Under the platform, a silver long-haired cat was parading around. Harry realized that it was used to protect the plaintiffs from being infected by the despair released by the dementors: despair was for the defendant, not for the plaintiff.
　　 "Please sit down," Umbridge said in her sweet voice.
　　 Mrs. Katemore stumbled off the platform and sat down on the single chair in the center of the subfloor. The shackles that popped out of the chair arm immediately bound her.
　　 "Are you Mary Elizabeth Katemore?" Umbridge asked. Mrs. Katemore nodded trembling all over.
　　 "Are you married to Reginald Katemore from the Magic Maintenance Department?"
　　 Mrs. Katemore burst into tears.
　　 "I don't know where he is, he should have been waiting for me here!" Umbridge ignored her.
　　 "You are Maezi, are you the mother of Ellie and Alfred Katemore?"
　　 Mrs. Katemore cried harder.
　　 "They must be terrified. They thought I couldn't get home..."
　　 "Excuse me," Yaxley interrupted her. "We will not sympathize with mudblood children."
　　 Mrs. Katemore's sobbing concealed the footsteps of Harry and Fanlin, allowing them to cautiously come to the stairs leading to the judgment stand. The moment he walked through the area where the patron saint cat was parading, Harry clearly felt the difference in atmosphere: it was warm and comfortable. He can be sure that the cat is the patron saint summoned by Umbridge, and it exudes a dazzling light. This is because Umbridge is very happy here-this is her territory and she is doing her help The law written is not honest at all.
　　 Harry and Fanlin moved slowly on the platform behind Umbridge, Yaxley and Hermione ~EbookFREE.me~ and then sat down in a row with no one behind.
　　 Fanlin was a little worried about making Hermione jump in shock.
　　 He even considered putting Umbridge and Yaxley on a ‘closed earplugs’ curse, or just killing them all? But even the sound of whispering a spell would arouse Hermione's alarm.
　　 At this time, Umbridge raised his voice to speak to Mrs. Katemore, and Fanlin seized the opportunity.
　　 "I'm behind you." He whispered in Hermione's ear. As he expected, Hermione was taken aback and almost knocked over the ink bottle used to record the conversation, but Umbridge and Yaxley’s attention was on Mrs. Katemore, so Hermione’s The move was not discovered.
"When you arrived at the Ministry of Magic today, we found a wand from you, Mrs. Katemore," Umbridge said. "Eight and three quarters of an inch, cherry wood, with a single horn inside. Animal hair. Right?"
　　 Mrs. Katemore nodded and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "Can you tell us which wizard you got this wand from?"
"Grab... Grab?" Mrs. Katemore sobbed. "I didn't take it from anyone... I took it. I bought this wand when I was eleven. It...it...it chose I am." She cried harder than before.
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