Matthew Wickfell only felt that the cool breeze at night was blowing his hair; at the same time, his robe was fluttering behind him in Hulara...

The feeling of sitting on a flying broom is actually quite average; at least Matthew felt that it was not as comfortable as he rode on an eagle-headed horse-body winged beast.

Looking down, the square streets of London were getting farther and farther away from them... and then quickly shrank into a black picture board with a glowing light.

Mr. Shafik was commanding them to move forward, sometimes rising and sometimes falling... The bitter cold wind blew from time to time, and the cold air at night in London, even the piercing Matthew's eyes, couldn't help but burst into tears.

Matthew didn't know how far they had flew, and only passed his watch, he knew that they had been in the sky for almost an hour...

Judging from the dark ground, they must have left central London.

"It should be here!" Mr. Shafik issued another order: "Let's land."

Two brooms began to swoop down...Matthew hurriedly grabbed the handle of the broom.

They flew lower and lower, and finally Matthew could see the headlights and street lights, as well as the big chimneys on the side of the road.

Finally, they stepped on a broom in the middle of a small square, on a messy and barren grass.

Matthew looked around and was sure that they had arrived at a remote Muggle town far from London.

...

"It's only twelve o'clock now, we're five minutes early." Mr. Shafik looked at his watch and said.

He sat on the grass, gasping for breath. Such a long time of flying made the middle-aged man a little tired.

Matthew also sat down.

Mr. Shafik was looking up at the sky, while Matthew was different, he was looking around curiously.

They didn't wait too long, and a few black shadows soon appeared from the sky.

Four foreigners who wrapped themselves all over their bodies were riding four flying brooms...

And among the four flying brooms, a box was chained with chains and hung in the air.

The box is not big, and at least two people can definitely raise it to their heads.

Four flying brooms slowly landed from the sky, and the box that looked a little mysterious also fell heavily to the ground.

"Who... is Shafik?" One of the four foreign witches asked stutteringly, speaking in a heavy accent.

"I am!" Mr. Shafik quickly stood up.

"Then... I'll leave this thing to you!" the English-speaking foreign wizard said quickly, pointing to the box.

At the same time, he took out a short magic wand and waved it gently.

The chains tied to four flying brooms all fell off immediately.

"We're leaving..." the English-speaking foreign wizard continued.

However, he turned around and reminded him: "Be careful!"

After saying that, the four foreign wizards rode on the flying broom and took off at the fastest speed.

The movements are so fast that it seems to be escaping from something.

Mr. Shafik had already started to work hard. He tied four iron chains in groups to the two flying brooms on their side.

After confirming that he had tied it up, he glanced at his two companions: "Let's go back!"

"Wait a little longer." Matthew suggested.

His eyes looked at the box tied with iron chains curiously... In this mysterious box, it seemed that something was trapped and trembled from time to time.

Matthew's opinion was soon supported by another companion, the timid and taciturn clerk. He said powerlessly: "Yes, wait a little longer, let's take a rest!"

"Okay!" Mr. Shafik had no choice but to nod.

They sat patiently on the grass for a minute or two.

"Actually, I don't understand..." Suddenly, Matthew glanced at another clerk strangely.

"What don't you understand?" The clerk was a little confused.

Matthew said honestly: "I'm waiting for Auror, what are you waiting for?"

"Wait for Auror?" Another clerk and Mr. Shafik said in surprise.

They didn't seem to understand what was going on.

...

Just then, I heard a series of "puff", "puff", and almost more than a dozen wizards fell from the sky and surrounded them.

The wizards took out their wands, each pointing at the three people surrounded by them.

Matthew Wickfell fell to the ground without hesitation, protecting his head with both hands.

"Stupefy!" More than a dozen voices shouted almost at the same time-

Then there was a series of dazzling flashes, and Matthew felt his hair swaying and undulating, as if a strong wind was blowing through the clearing.

He raised his head a little, and saw burning red lights shot out from the wizard's wand, intertwined on top of their heads, hitting the lawn, and bounced into the darkness again-

The scene is very spectacular.

Mr. Shafik, who was caught off guard, must have been stunned on the grass.

"Catch them all back!" Only a sharp voice roared: "And the guys on the broom from before, don't let them run away..."

"...By the way, there is also that box, take it back, but don't touch it!"

Matthew only felt like he was being picked up by a strong man.

The surroundings suddenly became pitch black.

He felt the strong squeeze from all directions, and his chest seemed to be tightly slid by several iron hoops, and he couldn't breathe at all...

It was exactly the same as the feeling he felt when he picked up the letter from Hogwarts.

...

In a small dark cell, six wizards whose wands were taken were imprisoned here.

"Mr. Sclinger..." Mr. Shafik cried, very embarrassed: "Please help me talk...I'm just the first time I've done this, and I don't know what it is...I have a daughter, who just arrived at Hogwarts this year..."

"What do you mean? Let's talk about it when you arrive in Wiesengamor!" said the Auror who was begging him.

...

And not far from the small cell, there is a warm small bedroom.

Matthew Wickfell opened his eyes and found himself lying on the bed.

"The first phantom moves, I may indeed be a little uncomfortable." A gentle voice sounded from the edge of the bed.

"Minister..." Matthew said softly.

There is no doubt that the middle-aged woman waiting for him by the bed was Ms. Millison Barnold, Minister of Magic.
Chapter completed!