Chapter 142: Two Groups of Aurors
Louis Evans lifted his hands from the keyboard, his mind still reeling from the dreamlike experience. For a moment, he had truly believed he had earned Merlin's favor. Not everyone who prayed to Merlin received guidance, after all! But whether it was Merlin or not, it meant there was some supernatural power related to him at play.
...Then again, maybe not. In his desperate state, he had prayed to every deity in every pantheon he could think of. Anyone could have saved him. Louis felt a pang of guilt. His actions bordered on blasphemy.
Known: When I was praying to Merlin, I was saved by a supernatural phenomenon, suspected to be magic.
Hypothesis: Magic exists. Merlin exists.
Question: Do the gods of mythology also exist?
Follow-up Question: Why am I still alive?
Louis didn't dare to think any further. He quickly dismissed the topic and continued posting online.
On the forum, people were sharing stories, some true, some false. Meanwhile, certain professionals—intelligence agents from official departments, for example—were being called back to work overtime, meticulously analyzing each post to identify the real incidents.
While the successive presidents of France had maintained some contact with the French Ministry of Magic, the current public mass sighting demanded a response. The president himself was curious about the magical world, and even more curious about why wizards were suddenly abandoning their seclusion to perform magic in public. In his few meetings with the Minister of Magic, he had heard a story about a wizard who wanted to break the Statute of Secrecy and burn Paris to the ground, a wizard who had only been stopped by the combined efforts of many powerful magic-users.
Could it be... that this wizard had returned?
The president shivered. He walked to the window and looked out at the bustling city below, a vibrant tapestry of fashion and elegance. It was a heaven on earth. It was hard to imagine what kind of person would want to destroy it all with a single fire.
"My term isn't even over yet," he muttered. "If you're going to cause trouble, at least wait another two years!"
Arthur Weasley was easy to find. He was at home, reading the newspaper. The Aurors informed him that Minister Fudge wished to have a chat. Arthur agreed readily.
The Aurors from the British Ministry of Magic, however, had a much harder time finding a lead on Ralvin and the others. After a long search, the dedicated Aurors finally crossed the channel to France to deliver their "most respected" Minister's instructions.
But the moment they set foot in the French magical community, they ran into a group of their French counterparts. These colleagues were on a mission to find the wizard who had performed magic in front of a large crowd of Muggles.
The British Aurors were inwardly shocked at the lax security in France. A wizard daring to use magic in public! Unthinkable! Noble English gentlemen would never make such a mistake. Of course, they couldn't say this to their faces; that would be like telling a police officer their district was overrun with thieves—a grave insult.
So, the two groups exchanged polite greetings and went about their respective business.
And then... they met again at the entrance of their destination.
The British Aurors: What a coincidence! You're looking for someone here too?
The French Aurors: Yes! The person you're looking for is here as well?
They went upstairs together, walked down the hall together, and stopped at the door of the same private room together.
The two groups stared at each other.
"The person you're looking for is in here?"
"Could it be... we're looking for the same people?"
The British Aurors shook their heads frantically. "Impossible! Absolutely impossible!" Deputy Head Ralvin might be at odds with the Minister, but he was a proper English gentleman, a noble and elegant elite wizard. He would never violate the Statute of Secrecy!
"Hmm?" The French Aurors looked skeptical and decided to knock. Their original plan had been to barge in and make an arrest, but with their colleagues from a friendly nation present, they had to maintain a professional image. They couldn't be so crude.
Hearing a "come in" from inside, the French Aurors pushed the door open, only to find their British colleagues seeming even more agitated, practically shoving their way into the room.
The first one in let out a series of sputtering noises—"Ah... uh... oh..."—and then fell silent.
The second one in did the same.
The French Aurors thought their colleagues seemed rather unprofessional, to be so easily flustered. So they charged in.
And then they, too, began to "ah... uh... oh..."
Inside the room, a group of young people and several old men were chatting casually. Two of the old men were unfamiliar, but Albus Dumbledore's face was known throughout the world. It was the living, breathing Dumbledore, right here!
The head of the French Auror office had just managed to collect himself when he realized that another of the three old men looked familiar... It seemed there was a portrait of this man in his own home, an heirloom from his great-grandfather's generation. His great-grandfather had received a great favor from this man, which had allowed him to establish their family's fortune...
Nicolas Flamel! A legend in France and the entire magical world, a figure who had practically passed into myth! And this great man was here too!
The French Auror office head gasped for breath, nearly fainting on the spot.
"Master Nicolas Flamel, an honor! Headmaster Dumbledore, an honor! And to you as well, sir, an honor," he managed, bowing respectfully.
At his greeting, those who had been stunned snapped back to reality. The Aurors behind him realized they were in the presence of giants. And so, they all bowed in unison, like yakuza greeting their boss.
"An honor, Master! An honor, Headmaster! An honor, sir!"
Their voices shook the room.
Terrifying, Nava thought, it seems that in the wizarding world, intellectuals hold a very high social status. The old gentlemen had arrived mid-meal, and Nava had been fortunate enough to join their conversation. She had discovered that each of them, if placed in the ordinary world, would be a towering figure of their generation. As a result, her perception of the wizarding world was elevated even further. All she had seen were the elite of the elite, a lineup of pure talent. Naturally, her expectations rose.
But her high expectations were one thing; the scene unfolding before her was another. She watched in shock. A friend had once described a similar scene to her, one he had witnessed at a place called the Yamaguchi-gumi...
Good heavens, aren't they a school headmaster and a master alchemist? Why do they seem so... gangster?
Nava was utterly baffled.
~~~
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