Harry Potter: The Genius Who Never Rested Fell for Hermione Granger

Chapter 170 169 Ministry Modeling, Animagus Registration

The next morning, the moment Lynn finished breakfast in the Great Hall, Professor McGonagall pulled her into her office.

Next they would travel via the Floo Network to the Ministry of Magic and, by law, register Lynn's Animagus form.

Professor McGonagall scooped a handful of floo powder into Lynn's hand. "With the amount you read, you must have seen how it works. Step into the fireplace, scatter it at your feet, and clearly shout 'Ministry of Magic'. Be sure to pronounce it properly."

Lynn nodded, her expression blank. "Understood, Professor McGonagall."

Stepping into the fireplace, she flipped her hand and let the floo powder fall. "Ministry of Magic."

Green flames roared up, and Lynn vanished.

A heartbeat later she stepped out of one of the Ministry's many grates into the cavernous atrium.

Her eyes were instantly drawn to the fountain dominating the hall.

The sculpture portrayed Wizards in ornate robes, surrounded by Centaurs, House-elves, and Goblins all paying homage like lesser stars around a moon.

Yet Lynn, who had browsed a few psychology texts, distilled the scene in her mind to three words.

Superiority. Arrogance.

"People always think themselves greater than other beings, yet Centaurs, Goblins, and House-elves each possess unique gifts no human can rival."

Green flames flared again; Professor McGonagall stepped out and moved to Lynn's side, eyeing the fountain.

She rested a hand on the girl's shoulder and raised an eyebrow. "I daresay if the House-elves rebelled this instant, most Wizards wouldn't stand a chance."

Lynn's tone stayed flat. "The books mention that House-elf magic is a system of its own—very potent."

"A well-read child."

Professor McGonagall smiled approvingly and led her toward the lifts.

A Hogwarts Professor escorting what looked like a first- or second-year Young Wizard drew curious glances from Ministry employees.

They couldn't help staring at McGonagall and Lynn.

Glancing down to confirm her student wasn't discomforted by the attention, McGonagall relaxed.

She merely flicked her eyes, wordlessly warning the onlookers to mind their manners and not frighten the girl.

At that look, almost every employee flinched, memories of their own schooldays flashing back.

After a quick, curious peek they hurried on; they really were quite busy.

Inside the lift Lynn looked up at McGonagall and said evenly, "Thank you, Professor."

She had noticed the subtle protection; courtesy demanded gratitude when help was given.

"You're welcome, Miss Lynn." McGonagall pressed the button for Level Three and waited quietly for the doors to close.

As the doors slid shut, Lynn—without knowing why—felt compelled to construct a mental model of the atrium from what she had just seen.

She began extrapolating the entire Ministry's layout from the visible hall and its probable footprint.

A voice in the back of her mind insisted she refine the model.

Her gaze shifted to the floor buttons: ten levels.

Instantly her mental map stacked upward, each floor inferred from her calculations.

The overall structure sharpened; only the internal details of each level remained hazy.

Yet from the extrapolated dimensions she could already conclude:

No building this large could exist unnoticed on a London street in the Muggle World.

Therefore the Y Country Ministry of Magic must be underground—and deep.

Recalling the texts she had read, she found no precise location given for the Ministry.

So the Ministry wished to remain hidden, she deduced.

Still, no law forbade employees from revealing its whereabouts, and they must know it.

Thus, knowledge would spread outward from staff…

…making the site a semi-open secret.

The lift chimed; doors opened, and Lynn followed McGonagall out.

A scene of bustle greeted her: workers juggling breakfast and desks as they prepared for the day.

Surveying the area and integrating it into her model, she deduced:

The Ministry's architecture was strictly orthogonal—standard load-bearing walls and columns.

That made internal layouts predictable.

From décor and room placement she refined her mental blueprint floor by floor.

By the time they reached a corner cubicle marked "Animagus Registration," her model of the Ministry was complete.

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