The Magical Food God of Hogwarts

Chapter 58 Minister Fouché visits to offer commendation

The next day, the Leaky Cauldron was packed with people.

The tables and chairs on the first floor of the bar were all cleared out, creating a huge space. The air was filled with the dazzling white light of spotlights, and reporters carrying all sorts of cameras blocked every corner.

At 10:00 a.m. sharp, a commotion broke out in the crowd.

"Excuse me! Minister Fouché is here!"

Sweeping ahead of two Aurors, the short, stout, and sturdy Cornelius Fudge finally made his entrance. He wore a perfectly tailored pinstripe suit, a green bowler hat, and a bright, enthusiastic smile on his face.

He walked through the sea of ​​flashing lights, heading straight for Lucas, and extended his hands.

"Oh! This is our little hero, Lucas McGregor!"

Fudge gave Lucas a big hug, a moment captured by the flashing lights that will surely make headlines.

......

The following morning, in Wiltshire, at Malfoy Manor.

The atmosphere in the luxurious living room was oppressively suffocating. Lucius Malfoy sat in the head seat, tapping his cane lightly on the gleaming marble floor with a low, resonant "tap, tap." Narcissa frowned, tossing a cup of long-cold black tea between her fingertips.

Dobby, the house-elf, was standing in the center of the living room, reading the latest issue of the Daily Prophet to his owners in his high-pitched voice.

Its legs were trembling uncontrollably; this was the second time it had read aloud a report about McGregor. The first time, it had almost thought it was going to be beaten to death; this time...

"...Minister Fudge hailed Lucas McGregor as 'the brightest young spark'! In recognition of his achievements, the Ministry of Magic awarded him an unprecedented 'Medal of Courage'..."

"Bang!"

Dobby howled loudly, as Draco had smashed a teacup hard on its head.

"The Medal of Courage?" Draco said angrily. "Why should that Mudblood get it?!"

Lucius scoffed. "Calm down, kid. There's no such thing as a medal of courage. This is just something Cornelius Fudge scribbled down in his office; it's worthless."

“Of course,” Narcissa said dismissively. “I thought it was the Order of Merlin. Turns out it’s just something made up. Read on, Dobby.”

Dobby's voice trembled even more, but it dared not stop.

"In addition to the Medal of Courage, Minister Fudge also awarded McGregor a prize of two hundred gallons."

Draco clenched his fists, his face grim: "That Mudblood is going crazy with joy now."

Even he, from childhood to adulthood, has never received two hundred Galleons!

"At the same time, Minister Fudge is pleased to announce that the Ministry of Magic has taken note of the rights and needs of Muggle-born wizards, and the Minister's Office is considering a new policy to gradually increase the annual Galleon limit that Muggle-born young wizards can exchange."

"Damn Fudge!" Lucius's elegant expression finally crumbled, and he burst into a tirade. "He'll do anything for votes! This is shaking the very foundations of the purebloods!"

Narcissa frowned. "Lucius, it seems we must unite with the other pure-blood families and warn Fudge. Where do Muggle wizards get the Galleons they exchange for? That's all our tax money!"

Dobby hesitated whether to continue reading, and then got a solid whack on the head. It howled as it read, "Ah... Minister Fudge... heard that McGregor's stall permit had been suspended, and immediately gave a serious reprimand to the head of the Diagon Alley Business Management Office, ordering the immediate reinstatement of McGregor's stall permit."

The living room fell silent instantly.

"At the same time, Minister Fudge also announced that a study will be conducted to simplify business regulations, encouraging more Muggle-born wizards to conduct business activities in Diagon Alley..."

Dobby raised his head, trembling, and met Lucius's murderous gaze.

"Bad Dobby! Dobby read something that upset his master! Bad Dobby!"

Dobby screamed in terror, dropped the newspaper, grabbed the heavy brass kettle from the coffee table, and began frantically smashing it against his head.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Lucius stared intently at the house-elf's self-mutilation punishment until Dobby's head was bleeding profusely. Only then did he wave his hand dismissively, "Get out of here, and don't get the carpet dirty."

Dobby disappeared, tumbling and crawling away.

The living room remained quiet for a long time, the atmosphere as cold as ice.

Finally, Narcissa shrieked, "That good-for-nothing Fudge, how dare he?"

Lucius stood up, leaning on his cane. "Hmph, if he knew what McGregor's stall was all about, he probably wouldn't have dared to do it. Oh well, I'll discuss this with the other family heads later. That good-for-nothing minister used to be quite obedient, but now he's increasingly biased towards Muggle wizards, which isn't a good thing."

"Father, that mudblood McGregor really got lucky!" Draco said grimly. "Are we just going to let this go?"

"Two front-page headlines! This mudblood who offended our family's dignity is now like a celebrity! We can't let him be so smug!"

Narcissa nodded, feeling a lump in her throat as she recalled the Mudblood who had made her slink away with a few snacks, and the Daily Prophet's praise of his cooking.

The previous report that described McGregor as a young hero who bravely fought against the dark wizard had already angered the Malfoy family, and this latest one has only added fuel to the fire.

McGregor's food stall reopened and became even more famous. Whenever he set up his stall in Diagon Alley, people would always recount the story of how he defeated Mrs. Malfoy on his very first day.

Every day he sets up his stall, he rubs insult to the Malfoy family!

Draco suddenly had a flash of inspiration: "After these reports came out, a lot of idiots sent gifts to McGregor. That Mudblood doesn't know anything, so he'll definitely accept them all."

"We'll send him a cursed item; as soon as he opens the package—"

“You’re thinking too simply, Draco,” Narcissa shook her head. “He’s the benchmark Fudge has set up now, a star in the Daily Prophet! Even if we forge identities to send letters, there’s a risk. Just imagine, he’s been honored and then sent to St. Mungo’s; a whole bunch of Aurors will be scrambling for him.”

"Then send something that won't take effect immediately," Draco said reluctantly, "a cursed item that won't activate for a month, or even six months or a year."

"As time goes by, all clues will be washed away. Who can trace it back to us? Search our treasure trove; we're sure to find something suitable..."

"Enough," Lucius interrupted them, his face grim. "A Mudblood isn't worth the Malfoy family expending so much effort to target!"