Harry Potter and the Temple of Tales

In this class, Umbridge didn't do anything else, she just asked questions among the students.

Fortunately, none of the students had any personal opinions about Professor Flitwick, and they all answered honestly about their feelings.

Professor Flitwick was not interested in what the students answered. While Umbridge was asking questions, he patiently taught the students various questions about the Flying Curse.

When the bell rang, the students all walked out of the classroom one after another. Louis deliberately paused at the door for a while.

"When did you start teaching?"

Umbridge walked to Flitwick again and asked.

"Ah, probably more than twenty years."

Professor Flitwick was very patient, but Umbridge was not satisfied with the result.

"Can you be more specific?"

"I forgot the specifics. I can only vaguely remember that my first class was probably in 1970."

"Okay." Umbridge shook her head, "You will get your report in ten days."

"Great, thank you, Professor Umbridge."

Flitwick still looked expectant, but judging from Umbridge's expression, the outcome would not be good.

Louis really felt that the people of Flivi were actually pretty good, so it would be a pity if they were really punished by the results of this investigation.

Umbridge was not seen in the potions class in the afternoon. Snape still had that stinking face. However, according to Astoria, Snape had accepted Umbridge's investigation.

It was during fifth grade class in the morning.

"I really think she did it on purpose." Astoria lowered her voice and whispered in his ear, "What's the point of doing this? I don't quite understand."

No one can blame Umbridge for what she does. Every action she takes represents the interests of the Ministry of Magic, or in other words, her own interests.

After the Potions class, Louis was attracted by the quarrel in the corridor. Many students gathered there, and Louis seemed to hear Umbridge's voice.

"Sorry, Minerva, you seem to be insinuating something?"

"I just ask that you follow the rules when punishing students."

Louis walked over and squeezed in among the students. He saw Professor McGonagall and Umbridge standing on the stairs arguing.

"But it sounds to me like you're questioning my authority in the classroom?"

"It's not Dolores." Professor McGonagall took a step forward to be level with her, "I'm just questioning your way of handling things..."

"I want to make something clear." Umbridge immediately interrupted her, "I don't care what you think. If you question my methods, you are questioning the Ministry of Magic, which means questioning the Minister himself!"

"Although I am generous about everything, there is one thing I will never tolerate, and that is disloyalty to the minister." Umbridge was so imposing that Professor McGonagall was stunned for a moment.

"Minerva, you are going against the entire Ministry of Magic."

"Disloyal.."

Professor McGonagall wanted to reach out to pull her, but the old woman deftly dodged it.

"It seems that Hogwarts is more serious than I thought." Umbridge turned to the students and said, "Don't worry, the minister will definitely take corresponding measures to improve Hogwarts."

After she finished speaking, she walked upstairs. Professor McGonagall sighed and dismissed the students who were watching.

No one noticed that when Professor McGonagall and Umbridge were pushing each other, a quill fell out of the toad's pocket.

After the crowd dispersed, Louis carefully picked it up from the ground. From the appearance, it was no different from an ordinary quill. Just when Louis was about to hold it tightly, Lius's voice suddenly remembered.

"Don't move, this thing is dangerous."

"What?"

"Black magic." Lius' tone was extremely serious, "I smell the smell of black magic."

"Is there dark magic in this?"

"Well, at least it's a dark magic item." Lius thought for a while, "I think you have to show this to a professional. This thing is not simple."

Professional? Louis thought of one person.

It was night, on the fifth floor of the castle, and Moody, the former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, put his prosthetic leg on a chair.

His office is the same as last year, except that since he is no longer a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, the indoor area is not too large.

The magic mirror hung on the wall, and Moody was whistling, with a contented look on his face, and used his wand to move the bed over from a short distance away.

Just when he was about to take a rest, there was a sound of the door lock being opened from the door. Moody subconsciously pointed his wand at the door, and his whole body was suddenly full of vigilance.

"Don't panic, Professor Moody, it's me."

The Illusion Spell came into contact and Louis appeared in front of Moody, which made Moody relax.

"Sorry, I've been used to it for many years." Moody put the wand aside, "Why, you came to me so late."

"It's something important, Professor Moody. I want you to take a look at this."

Louis handed the quill he picked up in the afternoon to Moody. The old man frowned and clicked the quill with his wand, and then a look of extreme astonishment appeared on his face.

"Where...where did you get this thing?"

Judging from Moody's expression, this quill is probably more terrifying than he imagined.

"Professor Moody, do you know this?"

"I've seen it before, about thirty years ago." Moody was horrified. "This is an extremely evil black magic that achieves its goals by absorbing human blood. This level of evil is comparable to the three unforgivables.

curse."

"That's the bloodthirsty curse?"

"Yes, eh?" Moody looked at Louis in surprise, "You know?"

"Well, Dumbledore gave me some science knowledge." Louis made an excuse at random. He couldn't tell Moody that he was learning dark magic.

"That's good. Knowing more about it will be good for your future."

Moody pointed to the quill and said.

"It's no different from an ordinary quill at ordinary times, but once you hold it tightly, you're ready to write."

Moody gave him a demonstration. The moment he tightened his grip, the entire white quill suddenly turned into a ferocious blood color, as if connected to the blood vessels in the human body. Like a blood-sucking demon.

"The bloodthirsty curse inside it will be triggered. If I don't write, it will have no effect on me."

It seems that what Harry was suffering from was really a dark magic item, so how did Umbridge get it?

"Professor Moody, is it possible for this kind of thing to be directly circulated on the market?"

"No, it's impossible now." Moody shook his head decisively, "It would have been possible thirty years ago. These things were often sold as magic items, especially magic jokes. Many joke workshops were banned back then.

"

After listening to what Moody said, Lewis looked at the quill on the table, thoughtfully.