[189] Whispers at Midnight

For Lydia Bloomfield, this should've been an ordinary holiday.

Her holiday should've started with a glass of champagne.

Thirty-four-year-old Lydia wore a royal blue silk dress that accentuated her graceful figure. Long, flaxen curls cascaded over her shoulders like a waterfall. Her light blue eyes looked at the uninvited guests who had suddenly appeared in her home.

She couldn't help but recall her past.

Lydia was of mixed English and French descent. Her parents were ordinary people — one a community doctor, the other a mechanic. She could still remember the day she received the letter from Hogwarts.

Shock. Disbelief. Then joy and excitement when everything was confirmed.

Her parents knew nothing about wizards or magic. But their love for their daughter made them accept everything and send her to Hogwarts. Thus, Lydia became a Ravenclaw.

Seven years passed in the blink of an eye. Lydia faced a difficult choice. Stay at Hogwarts, or return to the world of ordinary people.

She tried hard to find a balance. Her Muggle lover couldn't understand her. Her parents wanted her to stay with them. But to give up all the precious knowledge she'd gained, to put down her wand just to become an ordinary housewife?

Lydia refused.

Under immense pressure, she broke up with her lover. Under the tearful, supportive gaze of her parents, Lydia returned to the wizarding world.

After nearly ten years of hard work, Lydia finally became the Deputy Minister of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement — one of the largest departments in the British Ministry of Magic. Taking another step forward seemed almost impossible. Not because of a lack of ability, but because of a lack of sufficient background. If her surname weren't Bloomfield, but rather any pure-blood surname like Rosier, Abbott, or Lestrange, Lydia could've taken that step years ago.

But Lydia didn't hate her origins. She had disagreements with her parents, but she still deeply loved them. From time to time, she'd return home to visit.

This text was taken from NovelPhoenix. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"This... gentleman?"

Those past events merely flashed through Lydia's mind. She remained outwardly calm, smiling at the other man in the living room.

He was dressed in a sharp, handcrafted suit. Black hair, green eyes, looked to be in his twenties or thirties — oh, that's not the point.

Slytherin.

After confirming the other person couldn't see her, Lydia's wand slid gently from under her silk pajamas and was caught in her hand. She continued to give the man a sweet yet seductive smile.

"I don't know how to address you?"

The disguised Hall shook his head. His innate Legilimency was truly useful. He was increasingly impressed with this candidate.

"You can call me Henry — Henry Slytherin."

Lydia: "?"

What? Such an arrogant fake name? He dared to use that surname?

Lydia's gaze grew wary. In her eyes, Hall was simply mentally unstable.

"Mr. Henry," Lydia chose to address him by the false name.

Hall felt a little regretful. The name may be fake, but the surname was real. So what if he used Slytherin?

"Ms. Lydia, please don't be afraid."

Hall suppressed his regret and smiled.

Lydia appeared relaxed on the surface, but she wasn't at all. "Mr. Henry, you suddenly appeared in my living room for no reason... Don't be afraid? To be honest, I'm starting to doubt your identity..."

"Do you want to become Minister for Magic?" Hall interrupted her questioning.

Lydia's eyes widened. It wasn't just seeming — Lydia was certain the man before her was a complete madman. No normal person would say such a thing to her.

"You..." Her voice was dry.

"No, I shouldn't have asked you that." Hall sat on the sofa, looking more like the owner of this apartment than Lydia did. He sat with legs crossed, hands clasped on his knees, a mask-like smile on his face. "You want to. So you must become Minister for Magic."

With absolute certainty.

It was something utterly impossible. But hearing it from the man before her, Lydia felt as if a fire had ignited in her chest, searing her throat, making it impossible for her to utter a sound.

"Why me?"

Countless thoughts swirled in Lydia's mind, finally settling into one question. Why her? She needed an answer that would convince her — an answer that would make her willingly dance with the devil.

"Actually, you're not my first choice. You've probably heard of another candidate." Hall mentioned someone else. "Gordon Anderson."

"I know him," Lydia said softly. "He's a member of the Department of Magical Accidents and Disasters. Also a wizard from an ordinary family." She raised an eyebrow. She seemed to have realized the selection criteria. "Gordon is an excellent fellow. He's appreciated by his superior, who wants to marry his daughter to him — but his superior is a pure-blood wizard, so you ruled him out."

Hall nodded. "Yes. Compared to someone like me, whose true identity is unknown and unreliable, isn't the superior's appreciation more important? Of course, even if he accepted my invitation, after seeing you, I'd still choose you, Ms. Lydia. A smart and wise collaborator is more important than anything else."