Chapter 270: Speech
Chapter 270: Speech (Combined Chapters)
Walsh Sidwell led the way, hurrying ahead. "We need to hurry; Minister Fudge is getting impatient."
Felix said, "I didn't know I was supposed to meet with him."
"It was a last-minute decision. Minister Fudge's schedule is always packed; he usually doesn't pay attention to these minor details. But—here we are."
He pushed open a heavy door, revealing an antique and solemn meeting room.
The room's decor was similar to the third meeting room Felix had visited before, with several rows of shiny black chairs and a small podium at the front.
"Over here—" Felix was guided through a side curtain behind the podium, passing through a small, inconspicuous door into a more private room.
Minister Fudge was reading a newspaper with a serious expression, a thick stack of clippings beside him. Hearing the sound, he looked up and smiled warmly. "Felix Hep, it's a pleasure to meet you."
"Minister Fudge, I believe this isn't our first meeting. What brings you to see me?"
"Ah, of course... When Dorthea wrote to me, I realized I had overlooked a remarkable individual—" He patted his protruding belly, the shiny copper buttons struggling to keep his dark red vest closed. "An Ancient Runes Professor, a Muggle research expert, and a hidden master of memory damage healing—look at you, I'm almost envious."
Felix understood; it seemed the news of his curing the Longbottoms had finally reached the minister's ears, and it was Dorthea Bohame who had informed him.
"Bernie from the Wizengamot Office has already submitted a proposal. We're just waiting for the verification from St. Mungo's. If everything goes well, a Level Two Order of Merit—this is the minimum; a Level One is not out of the question."
"Sounds good", Felix said slowly.
"I need to persuade some people and use some connections..." Fudge said, interlocking his fat fingers. "I like to make deals."
"Such as?" Felix asked curiously, wondering what Fudge had in mind.
"Dolores is facing some difficulties. I want her to take on the position of Deputy Minister, but she lacks the necessary credentials. She needs an uncontestable achievement, like—capturing Sirius Black, of course, under my leadership", Fudge said, fiddling with a quill.
Felix patiently asked, "I can't help you catch him. The Ministry of Magic has many Aurors and enforcers."
"Actually, what I mean is—if you could persuade Dumbledore to allow Dolores to bring some people into Hogwarts... believe me, it's for the students' safety. Black is a brutal criminal, capable of anything", Fudge said with righteous indignation.
Felix gave him a long look. "I'll consider it, Minister Fudge." He checked his watch. "The speech is about to start; I need a few minutes to prepare."
Fudge clearly hadn't expected such a straightforward refusal. He was taken aback. "I'll wait for your reply. I'll have Dolores contact you."
"I might not have time recently—" Felix said. "Perhaps I can arrange a meeting with Dumbledore for you?"
"Or—actually—" Fudge stammered, his voice slightly embarrassed. "That's not necessary... alright, I'll talk to Dumbledore myself."
Felix left the room, shaking his head. He wasn't sure if Fudge had genuinely heard about his visit and decided to try his luck, or if this was a premeditated plan. However, from the emotions he perceived through Legilimency, Fudge wasn't one to give up easily.
He couldn't help but think: this minister really trusts Dolores Umbridge, doesn't he know how poorly she is liked? As Felix stood on the small podium in the third meeting room, looking at the sea of faces below, a thought struck him:
Perhaps it was precisely because of Umbridge's poor reputation that Fudge found her useful. At least to outsiders, any despicable acts she committed wouldn't reflect poorly on him.
He recalled the relationship between ancient emperors and their corrupt ministers. How many of their actions were actually carried out under the emperor's orders?
Felix's gaze swept over the crowd as he began his speech.
"Some of you may know me or have heard my name, but many of you may not be familiar with what I do. To date, I have written three books on Muggles, making me a somewhat recognized expert in the field." He raised his wand, projecting his name into the air.
Felix quickly skipped over the formal introductions and dove into today’s topic.
“I assume you’re here today either out of pure interest or because your work requires you to accept some fresh perspectives…”
“From the list of attendees, you are among those most closely connected to the ordinary world. In a way, I am aligned with you; I am the Wizard who looks outward.”
“But how many of you truly realize this?”
The crowd stirred slightly. In a corner, Newt Scamander gazed at a crack in the wall, his ears perked up.
A tall, well-built Wizard with a sparse mustache spoke in a harsh, cold tone. “Why should we care about inferior beings?”
“Sir, what is your name?” Felix asked calmly.
“You can call me Mcneil,” he said with a smirk. “Mr. Hep, do you think there’s anything wrong with what I said?” Chesterton Avery tugged at his arm, but he continued to lock eyes with Felix.
“Inferior beings…” Felix mused over the term. “Mr. Mcneil, you need to give me a specific reason. What you just stated was an emotional outburst—you’ve made it clear that you deeply dislike Muggles, but that is not a reason.”
Mcneil’s expression changed, and he said nastily, “Ignorant, uneducated, powerless, chaotic—do I really need to go on?”
“Hmm,” Felix looked around at the others. “Is anyone else sharing the same view? Let me see.”
No one spoke up in support. Instead, many were clearly displeased with Mcneil’s statement, especially the Halfblood Wizards and those of Muggle descent.
Felix waited quietly for a few seconds, giving everyone time to think. The air buzzed with murmurs, but no clear words could be heard, as if the sound had been washed away.
Felix then said, “I will address your question at the end of my speech, Mr. Mcneil.”
He waved his wand, casting a bright, shimmering silver light. Soon, the silver glow spread like mist throughout the entire third meeting hall. With a gentle snap of his fingers, the mist vanished.
Using blank memory fragments, Felix could temporarily manifest the Mind Chamber in the real world.
“Today, I want to introduce some simple things about Muggles—how they dress, eat, live, and travel…”
“The Secrecy Act, signed in 1682, is an interesting turning point. Since then, our understanding of the outside world has seemingly come to a standstill. Even with the influx of new blood into the Wizarding community each year, this situation hasn’t changed much,” Felix remarked with a touch of regret.
“Returning to the main topic, medieval clothing was rather monotonous in color and material. The colors were mostly black, white, gray, and brown; the materials were primarily linen, wool, and leather. The styles were somewhat similar to close-fitting Wizard robes, and the nobility and upper classes would often wear a cloak. Does this sound familiar to anyone?”
Phantom figures materialized in the air within the meeting hall. Their faces were indistinct, but their clothing was vividly clear. One Wizard couldn’t resist reaching out to touch a figure, but his fingers passed right through.
“Over the following centuries, more elements were added—large cloaks, embroidery, patchwork…” Felix continued, and the air rapidly formed corresponding clothing styles. The intricate and elaborate garments caught the attention of many witches.
“From the 14th to the 17th centuries, people were obsessed with curves, often to a pathological degree. Hooped skirts, corsets, and shoes several inches high—” Felix waved his wand, and the corresponding images appeared one by one. “Later, there were ribbons, lace collars, long buttoned coats, feathered hats, and puffed skirts…”
“And we can’t forget the small details, such as bows, floral decorations, and lace.”
Whispers and discussions filled the seats.
“During the 18th and 19th centuries, people generally favored natural, simple, and unadorned styles.” Felix spoke while conjuring clothes from this period, showcasing a variety of garments that aligned with modern aesthetics—petticoats, shawls, suits, and tailcoats.
“As for the later periods, there are too many styles to cover. You can see for yourselves.” Felix smiled, and he pushed his hand forward. Hundreds of different outfits appeared, flying toward the Wizards in the audience. Many instinctively leaned back in surprise, only to realize that these were just illusions once the images passed through the meeting hall.
“That was incredibly realistic,” someone marveled.
Felix continued, “I often see a phenomenon in the newspapers where, whenever Muggle experts introduce something new, there are always particularly stubborn individuals who refuse to believe it, dismissing it as fabrication. Is there anyone here who thinks what I just showed was fabricated?”
No one doubted it. Clothing was something everyone could understand, and even the least knowledgeable wouldn’t believe Felix had invented thousands of different outfits.
"Starting with the simplest clothing, we can draw many interesting conclusions, such as the fact that they have been continuously evolving and creating new things..." Felix lightly touched on the topic without delving deeper, then shifted to a question: "Has anyone ever thought about how these clothes are made?"
"Hand-sewn?" someone joked, "Surely not with magic, right?"
But no one laughed.
Except Felix, who smiled and said, "My new book, Muggles' 'Magic', provides a more detailed explanation of this. Those interested can take a look. If I were to explain it, it might take three days and three nights. Let's move on—"
The pace of his speech subtly quickened: "The development of food—" He waved his wand, and a multitude of dishes from different eras appeared, becoming more exquisite and tempting the closer they were to the present day.
"Residences—" Various architectural styles and interior decorations popped up one after another.
"And transportation—" Vehicles from the sky, sea, and land appeared in sequence.
With the foundation laid by the earlier content, no one doubted the authenticity of the subsequent three aspects, but most people were overwhelmed by the sheer amount of information and fell into a state of confusion.
After a few minutes, the audience gradually came back to their senses.
Felix posed another question, "Why am I talking about these things, everyone?"
His gaze became extremely sharp, staring at each person in the room. They instinctively looked at Felix, seeking an answer.
"Change. The only thing I want to tell you is change."
His eyes landed on Mcneil, the wizard with a sparse mustache, who seemed lost in thought. Felix said to him, "Regarding the question you mentioned, Mr. Mcneil, why should we look at the outside world?"
He walked over step by step, standing in front of the wizard—
"Because the world never stops progressing for any individual or group. If you can't perceive this change, ignorance, powerlessness, and chaos—these words can also apply to you. Do you understand now, Mr. Mcneil?"
Mcneil's face turned red, and for a moment, his expression turned fierce. He suddenly pulled out his wand, trying to press it against Felix's neck.
"Mcneil, stop!" Walsh Sidwell shouted from a few people away. He couldn't allow a fight to break out during this speech, especially if the young professor he had invited got hurt. It would be a scandal for the Ministry of Magic.
But Mcneil's eyes were bloodshot, and the tip of his wand was sparking. What infuriated him the most was the mocking smile on the other person's face.
He even slowly extended his hand, as if to snatch the wand. Damn it, what did he think he was doing, putting on a show? When I followed the Dark Lord, he was probably still in some unknown corner of the world.
Mcneil decided to give this overly young muggle studies expert a lesson. There were many people here, so he couldn't use Unforgivable Curses or dark magic. How about a Blasting Curse?
He instinctively licked his lips but found himself unable to move.
Mcneil watched helplessly as the person called "Felix Hep" effortlessly snatched his wand, hearing the gentle voice say, "You see, even your most convincing power is insignificant to some people. Does that mean—by your logic, I can look down on you? Or manipulate you at will?"
Mcneil's heart turned cold, as if he had fallen into an icy pit, and his body trembled uncontrollably. He had last felt this way decades ago, from the Dark Lord himself.
Walsh Sidwell had to step in, whispering, "Mr. Hep, you can't—"
Felix smiled at him, "Mr. Sidwell, this is part of the speech, a carefully prepared example. As you can see, I didn't even need to draw my wand—Mr. Mcneil was cooperating with me."
Mcneil suddenly found he could move again. Felix returned the wand to him, "Hold onto your wand; it's your greatest pride."
Mcneil stood frozen in place. If the wand was his pride, what did it say about the person who took it away?
Felix returned to the small podium, preparing to conclude his speech.
"As I said, time moves forward, and change follows closely behind. This is the trend. Like waves crashing in, the best response is to ride them."
A young wizard raised his hand, as if in a classroom, "But, Mr. Hep, what should we do?"
A strong emotion surged within Felix. He wanted to vent, to speak passionately, even to pour his thoughts directly into their minds, but he did nothing, only speaking calmly, "This may be a question for our generation to explore together."
(End of Chapter)
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