"Oh, I see, Cornelius... Let me answer this question directly..."

Dumbledore, seated in a high-backed chair behind the makeshift press table, promptly rescued the beleaguered Minister for Magic.

He interlaced his fingers on the tabletop, a gentle smile gracing his face as he addressed Scott Byrne from *Transfiguration Today*, continuing in a soft voice.

"Just as Professor Flamel, Professor Scamander, and others, Professor Apocalyps is also a specially appointed faculty member at Hogwarts."

"His primary role is Head Healer at the school hospital, and also Hogwarts' groundskeeper – his teaching this past term was largely due to the indisposition of the professor for that class, and in order to ensure the school's education, he voluntarily offered to serve as a temporary, unpaid substitute professor."

"Er... why not just appoint Professor Apocalyps as a full professor?"

Scott Byrne frowned, somewhat puzzled, "Shouldn't the school employ more erudite and experienced wizards—"

"Ahem, Mr. Byrne, the most outstanding wizard does not necessarily mean the most suitable."

Cornelius Fudge cleared his throat, his expression somewhat strange and helpless as he explained, palms open.

"You see, the Ministry of Magic and Hogwarts have always aspired to find the most excellent wizards for each position, but we cannot ignore their personal wishes in our recruitment—for instance, it is widely known that Professor Dumbledore is the most skilled wizard in the fields of Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts today, but he has already dedicated so much to this position, hasn't he? Besides, he has even more important matters to attend to now..."

In Fudge's view, editors of these academic journals were prone to such flaws—they always wallowed in their ideal worlds.

In reality, the magical world was much more tedious and complex than those simple academic researches. If the Auror Office of the Ministry of Magic could recruit a dozen, oh no, just five or six wizards of Dumbledore's caliber, public order would be greatly improved.

At least he wouldn't be forced to sit in this lounge today, plastering on a smile while patiently explaining this mess.

But this situation was never going to happen. Command five Dumbledores? Not even Merlin could manage that.

"Thank you, Cornelius. Your compliments make me blush a little—Minerva is far more capable than I at teaching Transfiguration, and in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, whether it's Quirrell, Otto... or even the school's professors, they all understand how to interact with students better than I do."

Dumbledore smiled gently and shook his head, his tone still calm.

"Older wizards may see things that are further away and deeper, but in terms of energy, efficiency, and methods of delivering knowledge, younger professors are obviously more advantageous than us old fellows. And finding a balance between the two, leveraging strengths to offset weaknesses, is precisely one of the elements of this year's Hogwarts educational reform. In fact, we have already seen many encouraging results and changes, haven't we?"

Compared to the hubbub during Cornelius Fudge's speech, it was noticeably quieter when Professor Dumbledore spoke.

Most of the reporters waited until the old wizard finished speaking before they began to transcribe notes for their news articles and take photographs.

"Ah, yes, Professor Dumbledore is right—"

Cornelius Fudge breathed a sigh of relief, wiped his forehead with a handkerchief, and said with a smile.

"In some subjects, we have seen many delightful changes, and in more magical fields, we are still cautiously exploring some knowledge iterations. Regarding the Defence Against the Dark Arts course content, the Ministry of Magic will further discuss it with Hogwarts later..."

"Then, Professor Dumbledore, I have a question. Why have we never heard of Professor Apocalyps before?"

Before the Minister for Magic could finish speaking, a witch sitting behind Barnabas raised her quill and asked, puzzled.

As time went on, people gradually realized that the content in the Minister for Magic's words had little value. Aside from a few novice reporters and editors, the focus of most of the media present shifted entirely to Dumbledore—as for what Cornelius Fudge said, that was unimportant.

It should be known that even in the magical world, parchment and ink still cost money.

However, Cornelius Fudge was not annoyed by being interrupted, but rather looked at Dumbledore with interest.

As Minister for Magic, he naturally knew the identity of that Otto Apocalyps, which was no longer a secret among the "upper class" of magical society, but from the current situation, neither Dumbledore nor "Apocalyps" wanted his identity revealed.

Unfortunately, after this magical battle, Mr. Apocalyps obviously could not continue to maintain a low profile as he had before.

"This world is vast, and besides, Professor Apocalyps is not British."

Dumbledore smiled slightly and said softly, "In fact, Professor Apocalyps has been living in seclusion in Central Europe for the past several decades."

"Even for a foreign wizard, such a powerful and wise wizard couldn't possibly leave no trace whatsoever—"

The witch continued to press relentlessly. Dumbledore noticed that her badge bore the logo of *Magical Truths*, and if he remembered correctly, it should be a top publication from the French magical world, roughly equivalent in status to *The Daily Prophet*.

"Professor Dumbledore, I just asked all of my colleagues present, and no one has ever heard of the surname Apocalyps before. If the most sensitive group in the magical world for news and information cannot find an answer, then it can only mean that this is a pseudonym... after all, he is so powerful."

"Oh, you see, not all wizards are willing to be printed on Chocolate Frog cards."

Dumbledore said gently, winking mischievously, meaningfully.

"The memory of magical society is not as long as we imagine. Many wizards choose to retire after achieving certain accomplishments, gradually ceasing their activities in society, but that does not mean they disappear; they may exist in every corner of daily life."

"For example, Professor Nicolas Flamel, who recently reappeared in the newspapers—you are all certainly familiar with him."

"I put in a considerable amount of effort to persuade Flamel to allow me to print his name on the back of the Chocolate Frog card—friends who know me know that I am not a vain person, but under my insistence, he reluctantly agreed. And a few months ago, I was surprised to discover that Flamel's previous reason for refusing me was true: his portrait circulated too widely in the magical world..."

With Dumbledore's voice, the venue became quiet.

Everyone looked quietly at the old man, waiting for the continuation of the story about the portrait, and then Dumbledore spread his hands.

"And Professor Apocalyps is in a similar situation, his deeds, stories, magic, and the changes he has brought to the world still exist around everyone, but based on his personal wishes, the Ministry of Magic and Hogwarts have chosen to keep it confidential for the time being."

"So, the Ministry of Magic is also involved in this secrecy?"

Seeing that Dumbledore showed no sign of continuing, the reporters turned their attention back to Cornelius Fudge, who was sitting on the side.

"Of course, we knew all of this from the beginning—I said, Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic have a close relationship..."

Cornelius Fudge straightened his robes, smiling pleasantly as he explained.

"Then how do you explain today's secret arrest..."

"Oh, a misunderstanding. I've already explained this before. Next—"

The Minister for Magic's smile stiffened slightly, his gaze shifting from the troublesome French woman, surveying the lounge.

During the lull while Dumbledore was speaking, he had, with Kingsley's help, barely managed to figure out which magical magazines and publications were present today. Apart from making Fudge lament the Ministry of Magic's bad luck again, there was one good news and one bad news.

The good news was that no third-rate tabloids had come today, so there was no need to worry about any unseemly issues.

The bad news was that those present were either tricky popular newspapers or top publications in the academic field of magic—the former would inevitably seek out various topics for news gimmicks, while the latter might be relatively fair, but those narrow-minded idealists were even harder to deal with.

Fortunately, he finally found a publication in the room that could save him.

"Yes, Mr. Lovegood—do you have any questions?"

Cornelius Fudge looked enthusiastically at the wizard sitting in the corner by the door of the room, asking in a relaxed tone.

As a sudden upstart of the past year, *The Quibbler* could be said to be the most unique in temperament among so many magazines present. It covered cuisine, daily advice, scattered essays, school news, weird tales... Although it looked like a country tabloid, it had surprisingly high sales in the magical world.

And most importantly, Xenophilius Lovegood, the editor, was an "absurd visionary" writer.

Perhaps under other circumstances, Cornelius Fudge would have felt uncomfortable with Mr. Lovegood's strange questions, but in a situation like this, trying to waste question time on absurd stories was undoubtedly the most wonderful thing.

"Er, um, I—"

Xenophilius, who had been inexplicably singled out, froze for a few seconds, opening his mouth.

He had been concentrating on listening to Elena's popular science for the girls around him about the historical origins of "Tarot cards" and Nicolas Flamel, but who knew that he would suddenly hear the Minister of Magic call his name, and then all the wizards turned around and stared at him with different expressions.

Looking at the bewildered middle-aged wizard, Cornelius Fudge smiled even more brilliantly.

Obviously, the editor of *The Quibbler* had just spaced out, which meant that he was not a tricky questioner.

And recalling the previous conversations with this Mr. Lovegood, Cornelius Fudge was even more confident. He couldn't wait to discuss stories like "Fudge the Goblin Slayer", "Black Olipha Fire Spirits", and "Crumple-Horned Snorkacks" with Mr. Lovegood...

"Don't be restrained, any questions are welcome, we won't be ending for a while..."

Cornelius Fudge laughed easily, speaking in a tone as if he were very familiar with Xenophilius.

"As the founder and editor of the most popular magazine *The Quibbler*, you probably have a lot of questions you want to ask, right? Aren't you planning to dig up some content that can be reported and published in the next issue of the magazine? Tomorrow will be a busy battlefield for everyone."

"Battlefield? Um... oh, you mean news reports?"

Xenophilius was stunned for another five or six seconds, glanced around at his colleagues, and waved his hand impatiently.

"We at *The Quibbler* don't publish these outdated messages. We are not like *The Daily Prophet* and *Witch Weekly*, which need to rely on flashy gimmicks to maintain readers. Readers who subscribe to *The Quibbler* saw this scene years ago. Compared to focusing on who the Ministry of Magic has arrested and which courses are lagging behind, we are more concerned with the truths that ordinary people cannot see."

The middle-aged wizard glanced at the familiar, proud eyes looking up at him beside him and subconsciously puffed out his chest.

"Outstanding wisdom is mankind's most precious wealth. *The Quibbler* will never abandon the most precious wealth in exchange for gold coins."

Along with Xenophilius' voice, a murmur arose in the staff lounge.

And under the flashes of a few sporadic flashbulbs, the joyful smile on Cornelius Fudge's face and the cold, dead fish face of Barnabas, the editor of *The Daily Prophet*, formed a stark contrast—he knew that Mr. Lovegood was his savior, and sure enough, he was different as soon as he opened his mouth.

"Of course, of course, the sales of *The Quibbler* in the past year or so make me a little envious."

"That's understandable. After Gringotts was reorganized, the political donations you received suddenly decreased a lot. But that's also a good thing. At least you won't be reduced to listening to the goblins every day after leaving office like the previous few ministers—that's very wise."

Xenophilius nodded quite seriously, repeating with a solemn expression.

"Although many people say that you are a rare incompetent in decades, I know that your layout has always been very large."

"Er. Ha, ha—Mr. Lovegood, you're really good at telling jokes..."

Cornelius Fudge suddenly became embarrassed, laughed dryly a few times, and quickly changed the subject.

"Let's talk about today's events. As the editor of *The Quibbler*, what do you think? Today's conference was held to listen to everyone's opinions and thoughts. I believe you can definitely give some unique suggestions."

Undoubtedly, Xenophilius Lovegood was an extremely sharp double-edged sword, and he had to guide him carefully.

And the most correct approach now was to firmly fix the topic on these troublesome things today, and keep stuffing the microphone to this man who was immersed in a wonderful world—when the two sides were chatting across channels, Cornelius Fudge would have the opportunity to control the rhythm freely.

"Oh, suggestions? What's so difficult about that? If you had the pleasure of reading my article from three years ago, you would understand—"

Xenophilius waved his hand, and in the admiring eyes of his daughter, said with great confidence.

"Too much cumbersome and solid power will attract those 'Reflection Monsters'. The Ministry of Magic should have cleaned up a long time ago!"

"Sorry, what is a 'Reflection Monster'?"

Cornelius Fudge asked subconsciously, and then he instantly regretted it.

Xenophilius Lovegood excitedly raised his finger, looking seriously at the equally confused reporters.

"That's a very difficult-to-notice evil creature. For example, the matter of Ms. Umbridge today is because she was possessed by 'Reflection Monsters' and couldn't think clearly—just remove her from her position. Those 'Reflection Monsters' will soon starve to death when they lose their food... Isn't the reason why Professor Dumbledore can't be the Minister of Magic also this? The magic in his body is too powerful. If it attracts 'Reflection Monsters', it may even devour the entire Ministry of Magic..."

Along with Mr. Lovegood's voice, the staff lounge suddenly fell into an eerie silence.

The next moment, the flashbulbs instantly lit up.

————

————

Hooray!