great-warnovel Chapter 507 Remnants of the Past
Chapter 507 Remnants of the Past
Chapter 507 Remnants of the Past
In fact, the spatial disturbance caused by the nuclear explosion did not last long, and the Ministry of Magic was located deep underground, which could effectively avoid the damage from nuclear radiation and high temperatures, making it a very good refuge facility.
Many wizards escaped from the Ministry of Magic back then, but compared to the total number of people, the proportion was pitifully low. Those people later became very secretive about what happened inside the Ministry of Magic, and others just treated it as a traumatic experience without asking too many questions.
The wizards' emotions were too unstable. In the midst of panic and arguments, some, relying on their skills and daring, recklessly attempted Apparition or rashly made Portkeys.
The result will only lead to a greater tragedy, either resulting in dismemberment due to the splitting of the body, or the broken key exacerbating the spatial chaos, further reducing the chances of escape for others.
That was a tragedy that should never have happened.
As the sound from the other end of the receiver grew fainter, the entire phone booth seemed to awaken, trembling as it plummeted downwards with a thud.
The two were not alarmed by this, as it was simply part of the process for entering the Ministry of Magic.
"But the data doesn't seem to mention that the descent would be this bumpy, and—this looks more like a crash." A violent tremor came from the surrounding darkness. The phone booth seemed to have fallen into an abyss. It was pitch black outside and nothing could be seen. Only Adam's overly calm voice could be heard.
Hermione frowned: "I think we might not be able to get into the Ministry of Magic by conventional means."
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Hermione had no idea what kind of trouble Lucius and old Abernathy had caused down there, but her intuition told her that letting them fall like this wouldn't end well.
Gravity magic unfolded silently, slowly stabilizing the rapidly falling phone booth, and the surrounding darkness gradually began to melt away.
Adam's fingers lit up like high-powered searchlights, and Hermione realized that they were still in the Ministry of Magic's elevator shaft, but a strange dark magic was slowly rising from below.
Under the influence of this magic, the elevator shaft, which was only 10 stories deep, seemed to have no end, and the elevator door, which should have been within arm's reach, became hundreds of feet away.
The originally cramped elevator shaft was stretched into a dark and boundless abyss, and under the influence of that magic, it seemed like an empty universe.
"Looks like an out-of-control Unseen Stretching Charm? No, it's more dangerous than that," Hermione guessed.
"We should probably go out that way," Adam said, pointing to the elevator doors in the distance. A dim light shone through the iron bars, making the area look mysterious and dangerous.
"You're right, it's not wise to keep taking the elevator down. Maybe we can look for the stairs?" Hermione said, grabbing Adam by the back of his collar, pulling open the iron door of the phone booth, and the two of them flew straight out.
Fortunately, the out-of-control magic did not deliberately hinder the two of them. They flew smoothly to the elevator door, and Adam's fingertip flashed with laser light, cutting open the rusty fence.
"It's the first floor—" Hermione said, looking at the sign with some disappointment. This was the floor where the minister's office and the logistics department were located.
This also means that they would have to traverse almost the entire Ministry of Magic to reach the ninth underground level where the Department of Mysteries is located.
Having lost the control of gravity magic, the phone booth floating in the darkness continued to fall, and for a long time there was no sound of it hitting the ground.
Hermione stopped caring and unleashed a powerful flash of light, instantly illuminating the entire space.
The floor was covered with thick carpet, and all the offices had shiny wooden doors with small signs on them displaying the names and job titles of the people inside.
But now all that remains is a mess: paper airplanes and documents lying on the ground, and the remains of withered and broken green plants.
Hermione walked to the huge floor-to-ceiling window, from which she could look down to the reception hall all the way to the eighth floor.
However, a thick, hazy white fog obscured the view below, causing Hermione to abandon the idea of jumping directly down. Who knew what awaited her down there?
"Let's go, let's find the stairs. We'll have to explore downwards floor by floor." She touched the twisted pointer in her arms. There was no unusual movement, which meant that time was still passing normally.
She turned around and saw a sudden shift in light and shadow, and a group of people who looked like madmen and were dressed in tattered clothes appeared out of thin air. They had no magic wands, but were fighting and scrambling in an ugly manner, or casting some simple hand gestures.
The objects of their struggle were merely a few packets of instant coffee, half a hardened round cake, and a bloody owl leg.
They pushed and shoved, cursing, as they passed through Adam's body, rolling into the darkness like phantoms and disappearing without a trace.
"I am Leonard Spencer Moon, Minister for Magic of Great Britain!" A booming voice echoed in the empty room.
Hermione didn't recognize the name, but Adam did, reciting the information in the document: "A wise minister—who rose through the ranks from a tea boy in the Department of Magical Accidents and Disasters; who oversaw international conflicts between wizards and Muggles for a long time, had a good working relationship with Winston Churchill, and died in the service of the Ministry of Magic from 1939 to 1945."
The voice still echoed: "Given the misuse of Portkey magic in this crisis, we have decided to confiscate everyone's wands! And implement a food and water rationing system! We must hold on! Hold on until everything calms down, hold on until rescue arrives!"
Hermione finally understood why the people in those afterimages only fought with their fists.
Clearly, this venerable Minister of Magic did not hold out until the end. The fragile order he had established quickly crumbled, and the wizards resorted to the most primitive means to fight over limited resources. Even their usual companions, the owls, were reduced to food.
"Thank goodness for the veil of death, those dead wizards didn't turn into ghosts, otherwise we might have been in even bigger trouble," Hermione joked somberly.
Where there is a stone archway, ghosts are quickly drawn to the other side, but Lucius moved it away decades later, so there are no spirits here.
There wasn't much on this floor; everything edible had been consumed, leaving only useless office supplies, buckets, and mops. Hermione did find some magical items, but they were mostly broken.
They easily found the staircase leading down, a backup passage only used in emergencies, but now it was filled with stark white human skeletons—the bodies of those who had failed to fight for food or starved to death, dumped there by the surviving wizards.
Hermione walked down the steps, crushing the bones with a blank expression, while Adam hopped and skipped through the gaps between the skeletons like a child playing hopscotch.
The second basement level houses the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, the largest department within the Ministry of Magic, which is a combination of police and judicial facilities.
There are signs prohibiting the misuse of the Department of Magic and the Wizengamot administration.
Passing through two heavy oak doors near the elevator, you'll find the Auror Command Center—an open space divided into several small cubicles, each belonging to an Auror.
The Aurors plastered their cubicle walls with all sorts of things, from wanted dark wizard portraits to magical photos of their family members, posters of their favorite Quidditch team, and clippings from the Daily Prophet.
These magical photographs are no longer moving, but one can still vaguely see the prosperity and beauty of the pre-war era.
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