Hogwarts on the Tip of the Tongue

The straight-line distance from London, England to the Armenian Forest is almost more than 3,000 kilometers.

This is far beyond the scope of the Phantom Transition, and the ultra-long-distance transnational door key must have extremely clear destination coordinate information and super mana before it is set up, both of which are temporarily not available in the British Ministry of Magic. Regular entry procedures At least it has to go for a long time.

Then there is only one way of "traveling" left: Floo Network.

In the magical world, at least in the European magical world, Floo Net is the most common medium and long distance travel method for wizards.

Different from Phantom Migration and Door Keys, the magic circles of all countries have relatively closed-loop Floo management networks.

In each Ministry of Magic, there are also fireplaces connecting the neighboring magical government, which is equivalent to the customs of the non-magical world, but these "special fireplaces" are usually used as fast passages near the magical government, rather than for providing Ordinary wizard family travel.

"The situation is urgent. In order to reach the Armenian forest as soon as possible, we may have to carry out multiple Floo network transmissions."

Cornelius Fudge drew his wand and waved it towards the dark peacock blue ceiling above the hall.

Those golden magic symbols that were swimming and changing quickly gathered, and instantly unfolded into a huge world map above everyone's heads.

"Our first stop was the lobby of the French Ministry of Magic, through the French Ministry of Magic to the Italian Ministry of Magic, followed by the Greek Ministry of Magic, and the Turkish Ministry of Magic. Whether the Armenian Magical Government and the Turkish Ministry of Magic's Floo network are connected together temporarily will not I'm sure, but as long as we reach the Armenian forest next to Turkey, even if we can't directly teleport to the Armenian Ministry of Magic, we can apparate directly..."

Perhaps in the eyes of some top wizards, Cornelius Fudge and Ministry employees are equivalent to mediocre and bureaucratic.

It's just that mediocrity and mediocrity do not mean incompetence. Hogwarts professors obviously have a hard time understanding the term of administrative ability.

As the former director of the Department of Magical Accidents and Disasters, Cornelius Fudge ranked at least in the forefront of the Ministry of Magic in terms of on-the-spot response and execution. Under his deployment arrangements, the "Auror Expeditionary Team" was quickly determined to transmit. Path, and the most basic action groupings and goals.

"In short, if you encounter any animals in the forest, don't hesitate to recite the spell directly!"

Cornelius Fudge looked at the wizards surrounding him, put on his top hat again, and let out a sigh of relief.

"If there is no problem, we are ready to go now..."

"But, Mr. Minister, this is not in line with the international magic society's process of entry and exit approval—"

Amelia Burns, the director of the Magic Law Enforcement Department, frowned, somewhat worried.

"Mr. Barty Crouch will properly handle these issues. These are things that the Department of International Magic Cooperation has to consider, aren't they? I believe Mr. Crouch can handle these. Moreover, our action was originally a just joint encirclement and suppression. , Just fill up after the process."

Connelly waved his hand and replied nonchalantly, turning his head to look at the simple and honest wizard not far away.

"Kingsley, you can write a letter to Mr. Crouch for me in a moment, briefly explain the situation."

Among the Aurors of the Ministry of Magic, Kingsley is undoubtedly the one that satisfies Connelly Fudge the most: he is from a pure-blood family, does not have the murderous old-fashioned style of the old Auror, has a strict, loyal, reliable, and strong. The most important thing is that it is much "cleaner" and "safer" than Umbridge.

After this period of observation, Kingsley Shaker seemed to be the first candidate to succeed the Auror Director in Fudge's eyes.

Perhaps, when this matter is over, the reform of the British Ministry of Magic regarding the Auror's early retirement should also be put on the agenda.

"Then, the safety of the Ministry of Magic is up to you, Mr. Scrimgeour. What if, right?"

Cornelius Fudge glanced meaningfully at the "Old Lion" with a green face, and tapped his wand lightly on the fireplace on his right.

A few strands of shining powder slipped from the edge of the fireplace, and the bright green magic flame ignited with a loud bang in the fireplace.

"Gentlemen, we should set off—"

Cornelius Fudge looked around, cleared his throat, and said clearly.

"The French Ministry of Magic."

Following Cornelius Fudge's movements, the Aurors also drew their wands and tapped the empty fireplace around them.

"The French Ministry of Magic."

"The French Ministry of Magic."

"The French Ministry of Magic..."

…………

Ukraine, Nikolaev City, Nikolaev Shipyard.

In the former Soviet Union, it was the largest shipyard in the Black Sea region and the only aircraft carrier assembly plant in the former Soviet Union.

Several aircraft carriers in the Soviet era-"Moscow", "Leningrad", "Kiev", "Minsk", "Novorossiysk", "Gorshkov", "Ku "Znetsov" and "Ulyanovsk" were all built here. Compared with St. Petersburg, which has a population of 4 million and is open to foreign tourists, it is easier to keep secrets in the city of Nikolaev, which is not open to the outside world.

With the collapse of the former Soviet Union, the already quiet and deserted city of Nikolaev has now become more deserted and quiet.

In fact, since the unfinished aircraft carrier was forced to disassemble into steel, the lights of the Nikolaev shipyard have never been lit up. The once noisy shipyard is now quietly like a ghost territory, even if it is. The most naughty children will not play here after nightfall.

Click, click.

Monotonous footsteps echoed in the empty dock.

In the thin mist under the night, a faint orange halo swayed on the dock.

"Huh, it's quiet. You say yes, Ulyanovsk."

Makarov patrolled Dock No. 0 as usual, and finally stayed on the edge of the empty dock. He raised his head and stared at the water and sky that seemed to be shrouded in infinite mist. The lantern in his hand subconsciously handed it forward, seeming A huge shadow that doesn't exist.

Regrettably, at the end of the faint orange halo of the lantern, there was nothing but the infiltrating mist.

A few months ago, at the request of the Ukrainian government, he and a group of workers personally dismantled the ship they were most proud of in their lives.

According to the government’s original statement, this was to free up enough space to complete the large-scale merchant ship order from Norway. Unfortunately, when the dismantling work was completed, the Norwegian company suddenly tore it up on the grounds of "economic downturn and reduced expenses." After paying a small amount of compensation, the order quickly melted and disappeared like ice and snow in summer-of course, Makarov is not surprising, after all, the current economy in the United States is not good.

Fortunately, I heard that the pile of dismantled special steels finally sold for a good price in Austria~www.wuxiaspot.com~13 million US dollars? Hey, those politicians don't know where they found such a savior. "

Makarov casually placed the lantern on the iron pier, rubbed his hands, and burst a thin mist in the air.

As the director of the Black Sea Shipyard, he has spent most of his life here. He knows every piece of land, every workshop, and every machine here, and he can clearly name hundreds of senior technicians. , Can skillfully say the length and width of each dock, but there is no way to clearly recall the events of the past few months in his mind... those things that he should have been unforgettable and heartache.

Those memories were like a veil, and he was sure he must be there, but at the same time there was a strange feeling as if he were watching a movie.

And the most important thing is...

Makarov's eyes moved on the empty dock floor.

Too clean, no scratches, no indentation, not too many cutting marks and impact grooves.

Perhaps this is nothing in the eyes of most people, but in the eyes of an old guy who has been dealing with ships for most of his life, it is not like a construction site where a 29,000-ton guy has been dismantled. Most of the remaining nicks and dents were left when the Ulyanovsk was assembled and spliced. Makarov searched all his memories and found no new traces.

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