Chapter 5: The Aged Madam Marchbanks
Melvin gripped the old cane tightly, a slight tremor came from inside the cane, its surface glowing with faint blue light, suddenly erupting with a suction force that firmly stuck his palm to the middle of the cane, and in an instant, the surrounding space trembled.
Everything in front of him was dragged and stretched, nothing could be seen clearly, a powerful pulling force acted on his body, as if there was a cold iron hook behind his navel.
A few seconds later, he arrived in another country, another wizard government, the British Ministry of Magic.
After landing and steadying himself, he was still a bit dizzy, Melvin composed himself and found himself in a narrow square room. The walls around were inlaid with dark glossy wooden planks, no lights, the decorative stripes in the gaps emitted faint metallic luster, like gilded material.
“The Ministry of Magic hopes you have a pleasant day today.”
A cold female voice sounded out of nowhere, loud and clear, with no discernible source, as if an invisible woman was standing right behind him.
“Classic London accent…”
Melvin muttered softly, the door in front of him opened with a response, revealing a familiar face with white hair and beard behind it.
“Dumbledore.”
“Many wizards think this voice is too cold, making the Ministry of Magic and Wizengamot seem impersonal, I think so too, but changing it is too much trouble, so it’s been kept this way…”
Dumbledore’s face was full of mild smile, he reached out and handed over a badge: “In any case, welcome to London, Professor Levent.”
Melvin reached out and took it, a coin-style silver badge, with the registration information from his entry application written on it: Melvin Levent, onboarding.
“The Headmaster personally welcoming me, Hogwarts’ onboarding guidance is more thoughtful than I imagined.”
“Hiring foreign professors requires some extra procedures, and the scrutiny I mentioned in my letter, we’ll discuss the details on the way, let’s head over there first.”
“…”
Melvin felt his tone was a bit strange, as if there was more to his words.
He pinned the badge to his chest and picked up his suitcase to leave the room.
Stepping into this world-famous wizard government for the first time, Melvin curiously looked around, his black pupils lit up by the lights.
In front of him was a wide straight corridor, the dark wooden floor gleaming like new, the walls on both sides inlaid with dozens of fireplaces, wizards constantly entering and exiting the hearths, Floo Powder rising in blue-green flames, the dome constructed of magic and alchemy embedded with golden symbols, swaying lightly and constantly changing,
Melvin followed beside the Headmaster, passing through the corridor into the foyer.
Upon entering, he saw the famous Magical Brethren Fountain, a circular pool in the middle with a group of pure gold statues, numerous wise magical creatures surrounding the central male and female wizards in an adoring pose, expressions reverent.
Blatant racial discrimination, if placed decades later, this statue would be pulled out and criticized.
His gaze shifted left, not far away was the Security Checkpoint, a scruffy-bearded male wizard guarding a square table.
On the table was a sign reading 『Security Check』, and a single-pan scale made of brass, when a wand was placed in the tray it would clatter, then spit out a narrow strip of parchment from the bottom.
“10 inches, wand core is… water snake horn, usage duration… 2 years?”
A rare wand core, usage duration not matching his age.
The middle-aged male wizard was somewhat surprised.
“Yes.”
Melvin nodded with a smile, then passed smoothly.
The whole process was a bit sloppy, Melvin knew well that his answer didn’t matter, after all, the Chief Wizard of the Wizengamot was standing right beside him, if Dumbledore couldn’t guarantee the Ministry of Magic’s safety, no amount of strict security checks would help.
The two entered the door, and Melvin finally thought to ask: “Headmaster, the extra procedures you mentioned earlier, specifically…”
“I need to apologize to you.”
“What do you mean?” Melvin had an ominous premonition.
“The Board of Governors cannot directly intervene in school affairs, faculty appointments don’t require Board approval, the original plan was to onboard you directly…”
Dumbledore didn’t lead him to the elevators but walked straight inside, stopping in front of a black wooden door: “But Mr. Malfoy heard about the teaching content changes and applied for a review with the Department of Magical Examinations.”
Melvin understood this was the old wizard meeting mentioned in the letter: “So?”
“Madam Marchbanks organized a meeting to discuss whether the course content should be changed, after my careful consideration, I believe the best person to convince the committee is the new Muggle Studies professor.”
Dumbledore pushed open the wooden door, stepped aside to let him pass, and winked at him.
“…”
The letter hadn’t mentioned this meeting was such a sudden ambush.
Melvin’s face was expressionless, he gave this Headmaster a gloomy look, not even officially started work and already wanting to resign.
However, he held back.
He entered the room, the wooden door closing softly.
A not-too-spacious meeting room, dim lights, a round table in the center, many elderly old wizards sitting around it.
Griselda Marchbanks was one of them, she looked somewhat hunched, her face covered in fine wrinkles, eyes cloudy, aged beyond recognition, in Melvin’s impression only Nic LeMay could compare to her.
This group of old wizards sat silently in their chairs without a word, no questions, no greetings, a somber atmosphere, if not for their slowly rising and falling chests, they might as well be wax figures.
Melvin found a seat and sat down, placed his suitcase properly, seeing they had no intention of introducing themselves, he cleared his throat proactively:
“Melvin Levent, greetings to everyone.”
His posture neither humble nor arrogant, voice mild and polite.
“Louder.”
“What?” Melvin looked up, the one speaking was that elderly witch.
“I said louder! Young man!”
Madam Marchbanks’ first impression of Professor Levent was that he was young, at least younger than the old folks present.
And Marchbanks never underestimated young things.
In this ancient wizarding nation, compared to the Ministry of Magic, International Confederation of Wizards, and Quidditch League Committee, the Examination Board was a very young institution, established just over five hundred years ago.
And as early as the last century, Marchbanks had already been an examiner at the Administration, she had personally invigilated Albus Dumbledore, and it was from that Ultimate Wizarding Level Examination a hundred years ago that she came to greatly respect that young man.
“Alright.”
Melvin’s thoughts turned quickly.
This group of old wizards asked no questions, so he couldn’t answer. It seemed this meeting required only him to speak, he ran through the familiar speech draft in his mind and quickly prepared mentally—《I Have a Dream: Wizards and Muggles》
A small magic enhanced his voice, naturally spreading through the circular hall:
“Five hundred years ago, a great British wizard established the Wizarding Council, uniting magical wise beings from around the world, three hundred years ago, Britain established its wizard government, the Ministry of Magic like a beacon of light, bringing hope to thousands of wizards suffering in Muggle conflicts…
“Britain was the first nation to establish the Department of Magical Examinations! But many have forgotten this organization’s original purpose… to select and cultivate outstanding wizard talent, to deal with impending magical crises…”
A bit odd, but inexplicably very stirring.
Marchbanks, hunched in her seat, slowly straightened her back, staring straight at this young man, her cloudy eyes overflowing with clearly visible brilliance, growing brighter and brighter.
It was as if she saw that young man from a hundred years ago.
——
《The Famously “Renowned” Wizard》
Griselda Marchbanks: Griselda (Griselda), derived from Germanic roots gray (gris) and battle (hild), in Boccaccio and Chaucer’s medieval stories, a sick wife was named this.
