When the International Wizengamot and the International Federation of Wizards sent the relevant personnel over, the time was already eight or nine o'clock in the evening.

St. Mungo's Hospital for Injuries and Injuries is a large general hospital, and there is an endless stream of wizards coming and going every day, and the healers here who receive so many wizards at once also show considerable professionalism, and they also seem to be busy, arranging everything in an orderly manner.

The healers of the Spell Damage Department checked on this group of wizards overnight, except for the wizards who had direct contact with the strange statue at the beginning, they were in charge of safekeeping, guarding, and the wizards around these people who had close contact with them all came to do a check, which was enough to see how seriously the two international organizations took this matter.

When the other wizards arrived at St. Mungo, after a careful analysis of the magic damage, the final result was strange to everyone.

"There is no corresponding magical trauma response." The therapist who was in charge of debugging the detection spell walked over and asked in a low voice to Dean Bohan, who was holding the report, "Dean, what should I do next?" ”

Dean Bohan flipped through the report sheet in his hand, but instead of being as relaxed as the others, he looked solemn, "He's a tough guy to deal with." ”

"What do you mean......" The therapist was startled.

"Generally speaking, the method of judging the location of magical damage through magical trauma reactions does not work, so let Marty Therapist psychoanalyze them."

"Okay, I'll go."

The therapist nodded and hurried out to inform his colleagues to psychoanalyze the wizards.

The most typical example of spiritual magic is the Imperius Curse, and Saint Mungo naturally has the means to detect the existence of spiritual magic.

More than a decade ago, the reason for falsely claiming that he had fallen under the Imperius Curse to help the wizard who couldn't even name it was simply untenable, but it was a political game within the Ministry of Magic, and the healers at the Hospital for Magical Injuries didn't want to get involved.

But it would be humiliating to say that healers have not been able to detect traces of the Imperius Curse so far that magic has developed.

St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Injuries and Injuries has a complete set of examination methods, and the therapists here can check everything from childhood bruises and sprains to the heart.

In the face of wizards who did not react to magical trauma, the Dean of St. Mungo's thoughtfully gave them a 'new package'.

In the waiting room of the Spell Damage Section on the fourth floor of St. Mungo, a group of wizards sat in a row, some were snoring soundly, and some were killing time with wizard cards and wizard chess.

"I said Captain, it's a good excuse, but why did you come to the Magic Hospital, hey, it's the first time I've seen you in such a bad way."

In the corner of the waiting room, a skinny wizard complained impatiently to his captain for the thirteenth time.

The wizards of the Special Operations Department were supposed to have nearly half a month's vacation after finishing their last mission, but today the minister suddenly notified them to go to St. Mungo's for examination, and the sudden summoning order made them really complain.

"The minister's orders always have their own reason."

The second team of the Special Operations Department, the captain of the team who met with the international police department before, said.

They didn't show anything unusual, and in the eyes of the unminded, it was a simple medical check-up, and they could go back to their respective homes as long as they waited patiently for the results to come out.

It's just that the strange thing is......

The captain scanned the personnel arrangement in the waiting room, and found that in addition to their squad, there were several wizards from the international police department that he had seen before, as well as some civilian personnel.

Not a normal check.

Most of the people who could work in the Special Operations Department were sharp-minded, and he soon found that there were several wizards standing at the door of the waiting room, who were also members of the Special Operations Department, but their task seemed to be guarding.

Watchman?

The captain furrowed his eyebrows, he didn't understand what was happening, but his instincts told him that there was something strange about it.

So when several therapists walked in, and the thin young man beside him jumped up to ask when they would be able to leave, the team leader quietly put his hand in his pocket.

When the wand enters St. Mungo, it will be handed over to the hospital to ensure the safety of the hospital, so he does not have a wand on him.

However, as a member of the Special Operations Division, he can use some less complex spells even without a wand. Apparitions were forbidden to move around the courtyard, and the necessary checks were carried out when entering, but he used some means to bring in some small things.

While the emaciated young man was talking to the therapist, the captain remained silent and glued a piece of clay that automatically turned dark green to the robe of the healer closest to him, and he couldn't find it without looking closely.

"They said it would take one or two more tests, and it would take a long time." The skinny young man had to sit back beside the captain.

The captain nodded, didn't say much, leaned back slightly, closed his eyes in contemplation, and looked like he was asleep, but he was actually eavesdropping through the clay that stuck to the corner of the healer's clothes.

The sounds that sound in my head are very small, mostly when I walk. After a while, the captain heard the door open.

"Dean Bohan." It was the therapist who had come before.

"How's it going?"

Dean Bohan said gently.

The therapist said, "I can't see the problem on the surface, I'm afraid it will require more detailed psychoanalysis." ”

Dean Bohan: "Okay, Therapist Marty, please arrange it." ”

The conversation ended quickly, followed by the sound of the door opening and closing.

Psychoanalysis? The captain sensed something wasn't quite right from the word.

Whether in the wizarding world or the Muggle world, the association of the word psychoanalysis is either psychopathic or insane.

I'm afraid that this is the only kind of person who needs to undergo so-called psychoanalysis to determine the condition, right?

The captain wasn't quite sure if the psychoanalysis he had heard referred to that, but it wasn't that simple.

Opening his eyes and looking around at his colleagues, seeing that nothing had happened, he closed his eyes again and listened to the conversation between the Mattie healer and the other wizards, trying to figure out what was wrong.

However, after Dean Bohan had finished speaking, Therapist Marty seemed to be alone in a confined environment, and he had not picked up any other valuable clues other than the occasional sound of objects colliding.

Half an hour later, the therapist called for a new round of examinations, and as more and more people went and there were fewer and fewer wizards in the waiting room, the healer finally read the name of the skinny young man.

And there are fewer and fewer people, and the sense of unease in the captain's heart is getting stronger and stronger.

"Captain, I'm waiting for you outside, you should be able to leave after this round." The thin young man sprang out impatiently.

He couldn't wait for the weird smell in the Principle Hospital.

When the skinny young man went out, there were not many people left in the waiting room.

The therapist who had called the number before walked into the waiting room again, glanced at the list and shouted, "Mr. Yin Dalgo." ”

The captain got up and followed the therapist out of the waiting room.

The narrow corridor outside the waiting room was silent, and at this point, many of the patients in the Spell Injury Department were already asleep, and the entire fourth floor seemed to be unusually quiet.

If the emaciated young man from before, no, as long as the wizards who were doing the examination were still here, it would not have been possible to be so quiet.

The more the captain thought about it, the more wrong it became, and he cautiously followed the therapist to a department at the end of the hallway.

"Please come in."

Jell Yindalgo bowed his head and pushed the door open.

After he entered the room, the therapist was very decisive in locking the door and hurried away.

Hearing the sound of a spell locking the door from behind the door, the corners of Yindalgo's mouth moved slightly, his back straightened, and his eyes looked at the only healer in the room.

"Hello, Mr. Yoondalgo, we're going to do a simple check."

Matty Therapist said gently.

Yin Dalgo quietly glanced around, and there was a hospital bed in the center of the simple room, in addition to a few potions of unknown effect on the table.

No matter how simple and normal the configuration is, it seems to the wizards of the Special Operations Department that it is full of oddities.

The bed in the middle had a few noticeable dents, which had been added recently.

The air was cleared by magic, and he still smelled blood.

In the corner of the room, he could make out the traces of someone there, even though he had hidden it with a disillusionment charm.

Dents, bloodstains, psychiatric detection......

Yin Dalgo looked at the therapist with a smile on his face, but he felt that the expression on the other person's face was extremely strange.

"Alright, let's start the treatment."

With the corners of her mouth raised to the base of her ears, Mattie Therapist pulled her wand out of her pocket.

The tip of the wand glowed ominously red, and at the same time, Yin Dalgo's ears suddenly remembered the frightened voice of the thin young man:

"Captain! They thought—ah!

”

With a hammer on the head, Sclaw quickly raised his leg and kicked at the approaching Mattie Therapist, then flew towards the door.

"Stop him!"

Faintly, he seemed to hear the exclamations of Mattie Therapist.

But he couldn't think so much, and when he approached the door, the wizard who had been hiding in the corner finally made a move.

Yin Dalgo quickly flashed a spell, violently using wandless magic to break the magic of unlocking the door, and flew outward.

But when he opened the door, he saw Dean Bohan standing in the doorway, looking at him gently.

"Where do you want to go, Mr. Skraw?"

Yin Dalgo sensed that something was wrong, but suddenly he couldn't say it, so he had to quickly explain to Dean Bohan:

"Dean, Marty Therapist She ......"

Before he could finish speaking, Yin Dalgo finally found out what the problem was.

Dean Bohan's body was facing away from him, but he was motionless at this moment, smiling at him.

With a thud, Yin Dalgo's head seemed to be hit hard again, and behind him, the wizard who had been hiding in the corner walked out quickly, using a spell to knock him to the ground.

Before passing out, Yin Dalgo vaguely heard the wizard behind him say "what should he do".

Dean Bohan's answer was: "Lock it up first, and wait for follow-up treatment." ”

The field of vision is dark, and consciousness is diffuse.

——

Durmstrang, second floor of the castle.

Professor Malfoy, who took half of the first half of the semester off, took up his old business without any discipline in this dark magic class in the sixth grade, and pulled a lot of water ghosts out, once again turning this class into a campus battle royale script.

The sixth-year wizards were miserable, and of course, there were quite a few who had finally caught up with Professor Malfoy's progress, at least in the trivial matter of casting spells, and they no longer just waved their wands and buried themselves without thinking about the consequences of the spells.

There are still a lot of excellent wizards in the sixth grade, just like when facing the fire dragon before, the black-clothed Azan who uses ancient black magic still maintains the appearance of Tarzan collapsing in front of him and not changing his face when facing a large number of water ghosts.

Of course, in the face of this situation, Professor Malfoy very kindly adjusted the difficulty, and in order to ensure that each student could get the potential stimulated, he asked the water ghosts who chased the students to focus on this excellent wizard.

In the face of hundreds of strange water ghosts, who are obviously not in the water but are still extremely flexible, the black-clothed Azan who does not change his face finally succumbs to Professor Malfoy's 'care' and runs decisively.

His magic is powerful, but no matter how strong Kuman Thong is, he can't face hundreds of enemies who are more than him.

"Understand that everything is difficult at the beginning."

Professor Malfoy stood at the door of the dark arts classroom, looking at the robes on the wizards' bodies as if they had been gnawed by dogs, trembling and casting spells to repel the surrounding water ghosts, and said with a smile.

Phew!

Whether it's Azan in black or the other wizards, they all want to beat their dark magic professor a little bit in their hearts.

How hard is it to get started?

Can't you do it without opening this head?!

Probably because of the last fire dragon incident that caused them a lot of psychological shadows, when facing the water ghosts, they ran if they couldn't fight, they couldn't run, they couldn't dodge, and they carried forward the wizard spirit of raising the white flag and surrendering if they couldn't dodge.

Of course, Professor Malfoy refused to surrender without reason.

The other professors probably got used to it, and even when the water ghosts climbed to the window of their classroom, the professors continued to finish their lectures without changing their faces.

Get used to it, the water ghost can be controlled, there is no harm, and you can also exercise and exercise students.

Basically, these few words flashed in the hearts of several professors.

Professor Danlin felt that the copy she had given Malfoy last week of the "Durmstrang School of Witchcraft and Wizardry General School Rules" didn't do anything.

Professor Danlin :)

At least it's more reliable than putting a dragon out.

For some reason, she also had the idea of 'ah, that's it, get used to it'.

The noon cafeteria was extremely hot, and the sixth-graders who had just finished class were not clean, and they cursed while repairing their robes with spells, but they didn't dare to squeak when they saw Professor Malfoy passing by, and the other students were inexplicably sad.

The dark clouds of black magic floated over the heads of the sixth-year wizards.

How many times have they ever been treated like this?

Except for a few wizards, who is not the little master of the family? Even Professor Danlin hadn't made them so embarrassed.

The Dark Arts Professor did just that.

Compared with the students with dark clouds above their heads, Ranko's mental state on the third floor of the cafeteria is much better.

He also happily took a few more small cakes.

Anyway, if others are unhappy, he is quite happy.