Hogwarts Great Hall.
The long tables were devoid of delicious food, replaced by rows of... laptops?
In front of each professor sat a "Magic Tablet" specially made by Ivan, screens flashing with red KPI assessment charts.
On the podium, the Muggle Prime Minister held a pointer (actually a wand snatched from Fudge), gesturing at the PPT behind him. The title read in bold: "Opinions on Deepening Reform and De-Mystification of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
"Professors, students," the Prime Minister cleared his throat, adopting the official tone characteristic of Downing Street. "Although I am a Muggle, I understand the essence of 'Management'. Starting today, Hogwarts will implement 'Full Staff Performance Appraisal'! Professor Snape, please explain why your Potions class 'Customer Satisfaction Rate' is only 15%?"
Snape sat at the Staff Table, his face darker than his robes.
The screen in front of him displayed a large line of text: [Reason for Negative Review: Professor looks like he wants to kill someone and smells like expired bat entrails.]
"Because these troll-like students can't even tell the difference between asphodel and wormwood!" Snape slammed the table, nearly flinging his wand into the Prime Minister's face. "And put down that wand in your hand! That's Elder wood! Not a pointer for you to wave around!"
The Prime Minister shrank back in fear but immediately remembered he was now a man with "official tenure" and forced himself to stand straight.
"Professor Snape, watch your attitude! According to Employee Handbook Article 3, contradicting superiors results in deduction of the month's bonus! Your bonus is already gone, and you now owe the school fifty Galleons—because the number of cauldrons exploded in your class last month exceeded the quota."
> [System Alert: Snape (Rage Maxed + Confusion about Capitalism): Emotion Value +888!]
Snape took a deep breath and looked at Ivan sitting nearby.
Ivan was leisurely drinking pumpkin juice and pointed to a small line of text at the bottom of the screen.
Snape narrowed his eyes to read: [Special Note: If Professor Snape can go one class without insulting anyone, reward: One bottle of "Ivan's Special Hair Growth Potion".]
Snape's anger vanished by half instantly.
He huffed, sat back down, and forced a professional fake smile uglier than crying:
"Very well, Mr. Prime Minister. I will... try my best to gently turn them into dead leeches."
The Prime Minister nodded in satisfaction, then looked at the Slytherin table.
"Next, I want to commend a student. Mr. Lucius Malfoy, please stand up."
Lucius Malfoy trembled with excitement.
He had waited for this moment for a long time! As a pure-blood noble, what he excelled at was dealing with the powerful. Although this powerful figure was a Muggle, he was the Prime Minister!
Lucius adjusted his robes and walked to the front with what he thought was elegance, even attempting a courtly bow.
"Respected Prime Minister," Lucius said in his oily tone, "it is the Malfoy family's honor to serve you. I heard you are interested in 'Ancient Magic Crests'? I have a set made of pure silver at home..."
"No need." The Prime Minister interrupted him, extending a hand. "I only value 'Pragmatism'. Come, shake hands, symbolizing our 'Friendly Cooperation between Muggles and Wizards'."
Lucius was overwhelmed by the favor and hurriedly extended both hands to shake the Prime Minister's hand.
He calculated in his mind: As long as I cling to this high branch, I won't have to look at Fudge's face when dealing with the Ministry in the future!
However, he forgot one thing.
This Prime Minister was a man who once controlled nuclear weapons. His grip strength was strong enough to crush walnuts.
"Ouch!"
Lucius let out a scream.
The Prime Minister's large hand clamped onto his palm like iron pincers, shaking vigorously. This wasn't a handshake; this was... arm wrestling?
"Young man, have some vigor!" The Prime Minister said while increasing pressure, wearing that politician's smile devoid of warmth. "If we are to cooperate, show some sincerity! Heard your family is rich? Then the renovation fee for the school toilets this time will be exclusively sponsored by the Malfoy family!"
"Pain! Pain! It's breaking! It's going to break!" Lucius's face turned liver-colored instantly, tears spurting out. "I'll sponsor! I'll sponsor! Let go!!"
The Prime Minister released his hand. Lucius clutched his palm, stumbled back, and sat on the floor with a thud.
Worse, due to extreme terror and pain, his sphincter lost control.
A warm liquid trickled down his trouser leg.
Dead silence in the Great Hall.
Hundreds of eyes stared at Lucius's soaked crotch.
> [System Alert: Lucius (Social Death + Dignity Shattered): Emotion Value +1024!]
"Is... is this 'Scared Pee-less'?" The Prime Minister frowned, looking at Fudge nearby. "Cornelius, is this your wizarding etiquette? Too unhygienic. I suggest deducting 50 points from Slytherin for 'Public Urination'."
Fudge covered his face, desperately wanting to find a crack in the ground to crawl into:
"Yes... yes, Prime Minister. I'll have the house-elves clean it up..."
Just then, the doors to the Great Hall were smashed open.
Hagrid rushed in panting, holding a smoking Blast-Ended Skrewt in his arms.
"Bad news! Mr. Prime Minister! Don't deduct points! Those Blast-Ended Skrewts... they heard they were going to be 'Deported' and blew up my hut!"
"Deported?" The Prime Minister raised an eyebrow. "I only said such dangerous creatures without 'residency permits' should be included in the 'Floating Population Management System', or made into specimens directly."
"They aren't specimens! They are my children!" Hagrid roared, putting the Skrewt on the floor.
The Skrewt seemed to understand the word "Deported" and angrily sprayed a jet of fire straight at the Prime Minister's face.
"Protect the Prime Minister!" Fudge screamed and hid under the table.
Snape watched coldly, with no intention of moving (because it wasn't time to deduct points yet).
However, the Prime Minister was a man who had seen big scenes.
Without changing expression, he pulled a... fire extinguisher from his jacket?
No, that was Ivan's modified "Dry Powder Spell Gun."
"Illegal gatherings and violent resistance must be severely cracked down upon!"
He fired a shot directly at the Skrewt.
Bang!
A jet of white powder sprayed out, instantly freezing the Skrewt in place, turning it into a gray-white plaster statue.
"Perfect." The Prime Minister clapped his hands. "It seems Ministry security needs strengthening. I propose establishing a 'Hogwarts SWAT Team', under my direct command. As for the captain... let that giant named Hagrid be vice-captain, responsible for carrying equipment."
Hagrid froze: "Carry equipment? Do I get paid?"
"You get Tenured Position." The Prime Minister threw out the killer bait. "Official tenure, full benefits, pension upon retirement."
Hagrid's eyes lit up instantly: "Deal! What about these Skrewts..."
"Temporarily conscripted as 'Police Dogs'." The Prime Minister looked at the pile of crawling Skrewts. "But that leader seems to be missing something?"
He pointed to the largest Skrewt.
On its back, a golden wig had appeared at some point.
It was the wig Lucius had just dropped in fright (he wore it for beauty purposes).
The Skrewt wore the wig, majestically spurting a mouthful of fire, looking both comical and terrifying.
"Excellent, this is the 'Police Badge'." The Prime Minister nodded in satisfaction. "Now, everyone fall in! Target: Forbidden Forest! We are going to issue a 'Business License' to that BBQ stall run by Voldemort! If he doesn't pay tax, forced enforcement!"
Ivan sat below the stage, watching this scene, unable to suppress his laughter.
He turned to Dumbledore next to him.
Dumbledore was holding a Sherbet Lemon, smiling like a child watching a play.
"Headmaster, aren't you going to intervene?" Ivan asked. "If this goes on, Hogwarts will become the 'British Empire Magic Branch'."
"Why intervene?" Dumbledore blinked. "Cornelius is finally useful, Snape has motivation for hair growth, Lucius... well, at least he contributed to the school toilets. As for Voldemort..."
A cunning glint flashed in the Old Bee's eyes:
"Letting the Prime Minister collect his taxes, isn't that much more fun than us fighting him? I'm looking forward to the look on Tom's face when he sees the 'Tax Audit Slip'."
Ivan gave a thumbs up.
You are ruthless.
Just as the Prime Minister led Hagrid and a troop of Blast-Ended Skrewts marching grandly toward the Forbidden Forest, Lucius crawled up from the floor, holding up his wet trousers, crying as he chased after them:
"Mr. Prime Minister! My wig! That's Italian import! Don't let that turtle eat it!!"
The Great Hall erupted in laughter.
Even Snape couldn't help curling the corners of his mouth.
However, no one noticed.
In the corner of the Great Hall, the Skrewt statue frozen by the Prime Minister suddenly moved its eye.
From its belly came a faint tapping sound, like Morse code.
Tap. Tap tap. Tap.
If Ivan were here, he would understand the meaning of this code:
"Riddle... in position... Tax... is a... good opportunity..."
Voldemort seemed to have found new inspiration for chaos inside the belly of a Blast-Ended Skrewt.