The card draw starts in Azkaban

Popular Recommendations: Taming the Beast: The pet beast is just a heavenly punishment for evil that brings me bondage. Emperor Lin Hongmeng

"Are you happy?"

On the streets of London, the sky suddenly appeared. Duwei looked at Bertha Jorkins who was breathing heavily and asked thoughtfully. Bertha nodded. She still can't get out of that kind of excitement and her hands are shaking.

Duwei put away his wand, Dobby was wearing an invisibility cloak, and Bertha stood beside Duwei. No one glanced at them.

Because they dress the same as ordinary people.

They are dressed very ordinary.

Duwei appears as Scrimgeour.

He looked tall, slightly lame, and stern, like a middle-aged old lion.

"Thank you, Mr. Duwei."

Ms. Bertha, her heart is still beating fast and her face looks rosy, which is a healthy color.

Duwei went to a nearby Muggle store and bought the entire Muggle store's chocolate.

There are few things more precious than chocolate - to Dowey Jones.

This is his Christmas gift to the rest of the group.

The store owner looked at these two strange-looking people and felt that something was wrong with them, especially when they were checking out.

"Do you remember that person's name, Bertha?"

Du Wei suddenly thought of the arms dealer they killed.

The money was also obtained from the arms broker.

It was the merchant's generous donation, and it was necessary for them to praise him when paying.

"Forgot, sir."

Lady Bertha frowned in annoyance, feeling annoyed that she had not remembered the arms dealer's name.

"It's okay, then let's thank that gentleman, the kind gentleman, and wish him rest in peace in the hands of death."

He thought of the tall shadow that appeared in front of him, wearing a cloak.

If there really is a God of Death - may those who die at his hands feel at peace.

Bertha was also on the side, and followed Mr. Duwei for a moment of silent mourning.

Very formal and sincere.

The Muggle boss was a little frightened, and he subconsciously touched the baseball bat he placed behind him. Fortunately, these two people who looked unusual did not cause too much trouble.

They bought chocolates and left.

The two parted in front of the store.

Bertha was responsible for taking away the chocolates and delivering the gifts at Christmas.

Duwei did not go to the Ministry of Magic. He was originally going to have a drink at the Leaky Cauldron, which suited his current mood - it was more or less a celebration. Unexpectedly, as soon as he arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, the owner Tom came out.

He looked troubled.

"Director Scrimgeour, inside your room..."

Before he finished speaking, Du Wei knew what was happening in his room.

The door to the hotel on the second floor was broken open!

Under his nose, owls rushed out from the stairs. They were so dense that it was unclear how many there were.

The owls rushed out and almost drowned him,

Owls all over the mountains and plains circled around Scrimgeour as if they were free of charge. The entire Leaky Cauldron was shrouded in owl feathers. What was worse, or perhaps luckily, was the wizard who drank here.

Not much.

The threat of Voldemort makes all regular bars look a little depressed.

The wizards had to cover the mouth of their cups to prevent owl feathers and feces from falling in.

There weren't many people in the Leaky Cauldron, but the spectacle created by the owl was nothing short of spectacular.

"Okay, everyone go back obediently!"

Scrimgeour shouted irritably. When Old Tom saw so many owls, he had to step aside and pick up the wand and shouted loudly: "Owls go back!"

These owls stood obediently on the table, looking neatly arranged in a row.

Old Tom then wiped the sweat off his head.

"Director, are you okay?"

"Thank you, Old Tom. I should be glad that there is no black magic hidden in these owls. It seems that the long and comfortable life has made me a little slack.

If you don't mind, you can give me a glass of gin with some lemon, thank you."

Du Wei said.

Old Tom bowed slightly, even though he was already rickety enough, and returned to the back of the wine cabinet. Duwei picked up the letters in front of him. These letters all came from the Ministry of Magic.

From ministers to directors, from strikers to Ministry of Magic officers, they have it all.

But at first, the letters were a bit restrained.

Later, those letters became howler letters.

Nor Ms. Bernsch's letters.

In the first letter, Ms. Bernsch maintained a certain degree of restraint, calling Scrimgeour back, "I have something to ask you."

But as Scrimgeour disappeared for a long time, Ms. Bernsch's letters became more frequent.

She was first determining whether Scrimgeour was alive or dead, and when she was determining that he might be alive, she did not answer the letter.

The howler letter has arrived!

The shouting letter from the Minister, Ms. Burnsch, took the shape of Ms. Burnsch. She loudly questioned Scrimgeour and asked where the newly appointed Director of the Legal Enforcement Department of the Ministry of Magic was.

The Ministry of Magic is a mess because of him.

But why is he, the instigator, still nowhere to be found?

Listening to the harsh admonishment, Du Wei showed no expression. He picked up the gin handed over by Old Tom and drank a little.

"The Sword Comes"

"It still tastes good, Tom."

He raised his glass and said to Old Tom with a smile. Old Tom didn't say anything, and he gave a formulaic smile.

The same goes for Du Wei. The old lion sat on a high chair and sipped his drink comfortably.

There were also shouting letters from the remaining ministers and several pure-blooded old wizards, but before they could roar, Du Wei burned them with fire dragon fire.

"It's really ear-splitting, isn't it? A bunch of not-so-intelligent fools."

He asked Old Tom, and Old Tom smiled awkwardly. It was obvious that he didn't want to get involved in this matter.

This is not something he can comment on.

Mr. Scrimgeour, in their presence, called his colleagues, including some in high positions, fools.

It is conceivable that Mr. Scrimgeour's words will be conveyed through the mouths of the drinkers.

Mr. Scrimgeour had no means of stopping them.

There was a sudden noise in his ears, and Old Tom glanced at Mr. Scrimgeour curiously.

He found that the director took out a black leather notebook from his arms, opened it, and looked at something on it.

Du Wei did not embarrass Old Tom. He knocked on the table and suddenly said: "Bring some more wine, make it stronger, and don't add anything."

Old Tom watched helplessly as the director poured a glass of gin onto the black leather notebook, buttoned it up, put it in his arms, and walked out of the Leaky Cauldron.

The wine didn't seep through the notebook.

"Have a drink, my friend, and don't be anxious. I've got everything."

Duwei shook his arms.

His voice came on the wind.

"Old Tom, except for the Striker, Auror and Ms. Burnsch's letters, please burn all the rest of the letters."