His disguise magic was seen through at a glance.
The other party clearly recognized Fawkes.
Hiss...
However, William's confusion didn't last long, as the appearance of the purple-robed old man from the room perfectly explained his doubts and confusion.
"Headmaster?"
Lupin looked somewhat surprised at Dumbledore, who walked out from beside the Mediterranean old man, a sense of bewilderment in his eyes.
"Remus, and William."
Dumbledore was also a bit surprised and muttered. He instinctively glanced at the old man beside him, and after a brief pause, his gaze subtly lingered on William for a moment. Clearly, he didn't expect things to coincide so well at times—
"I remember your plan was to go to France..."
"Old man, you followed me..."
After a brief silence, William and Dumbledore almost spoke simultaneously, then paused at the same moment.
"Well, plans can't keep up with changes—"
William grinned. It seems he guessed wrong, so such coincidences do happen. He really just picked a wizard tavern randomly for a meal and accommodation, and happened to run into Dumbledore and his... his...
"Uh, you are..."
He stared at the old man who seemed a bit too frail for a moment, then asked.
"Percival Graves."
The old man smiled, or rather, he had been smiling at William from the beginning, smiling so much it gave William a creepy feeling. This made William instinctively turn his head and give Dumbledore a look, as if to ask, is there something wrong with your friend?
"Ahem..."
"Chirp—"
At the crucial moment, it was Fawkes who broke the awkward atmosphere first. It softly chirped and then jumped onto Dumbledore's shoulder. "So, are we going inside to sit and talk, or are we going to continue blocking the doorway?" Dumbledore smiled, stepping aside to invite everyone in.
The tavern's décor looked good, at least the hygiene conditions were much better than a certain unnamed tavern in Hogsmeade.
"Dang—"
No matter where you are, once you sit in a wizard's tavern, it seems there will always be butter beer on the table. Watching the dense bubbles around the glass, William took a sip... Hmm, the taste was stronger than The Three Broomsticks.
Then, he looked up at Percival to find him still smiling at him, with the skin around his face almost forming a chrysanthemum.
...What's wrong with you?
William almost couldn't help but blurt it out, but the traditional virtue of respecting the old and cherishing the young made him opt to keep quiet.
"Why are you here?"
Dumbledore handed back the menu he had marked to the waiter, looked at the two, curiosity in his blue eyes.
"Do you remember... that group of poachers?"
William tapped on the table, mindful that there was more than one outsider present, he merely mentioned a name. But Dumbledore nodded knowingly—
Actually, after that governance by William a hundred years ago, the poachers' activities within the UK had been significantly suppressed, and along with successive wars, Dumbledore was unaware of this organization's existence. Yet when he unmasked William, the latter mentioned this group to him.
After all, it was related to why he let a fire dragon roast a dozen wizards to death.
Dumbledore needed a reason to silence the inquiries of the Wizengamot, although, William believed that even if they investigated until death, they wouldn't find anything.
"They..."
"Yes, the circus was attacked again, targeting Norbert."
William nodded. Honestly, it was unsurprising for them to keep an eye on Norbert, as fire dragons are considered extremely precious magical creatures worldwide; otherwise, Romania wouldn't need a reserve. As he talked, he stuffed the dried meat from his plate into his pocket.
"Squeak—"
Seemingly disturbed by William's action, Kabuda, who had been asleep all day, opened its eyes, climbed out of his pocket, and skillfully flipped itself onto the table.
"..."
At the sight of Kabuda, Percival sitting across from William visibly stiffened. He immediately raised his hand to touch his chest, and upon discovering there was nothing there, he instinctively glanced at Dumbledore's chest—seeming to catch a glimpse of a scarlet glimmer within the folds of his purple robe.
Kabuda, perched on the table, evidently didn't notice the elderly man's action. It accepted the snack Lupin handed over, hugged it, and began nibbling contentedly.
Meanwhile, Dumbledore and William's conversation continued—
"...So, have you been tracking that Animagus all along?"
Dumbledore nodded, his gaze fixed on the knife and fork William used to cut his beef. His deep-seated eyes made it impossible to discern what he was contemplating.
"Yes, without that shot,"
William nodded. The beefsteak's texture was a little tough, uh... the chef here is not as skilled as Dobby, "we should have found the place by now. But actually, it doesn't matter, they can't escape... Do you want a piece?"
Noticing the other had been eyeing his beefsteak, William picked up a slice with his fork.
"...No, thank you."
Having already dined, Dumbledore declined William's kind offer.
"Then what about you, why are you here?"
William looked at the older man named Percival. "Graves", a very typical American surname, but that's not the point. William had already caught a scent of decayed wood from him, it was the smell of... dark magic. Hmm, this scent is so pervasive it's impossible to conceal.
This scent William found himself failing in comparison, but that's also reasonable. Due to needing to study ancient magic as a "plugin," he hadn't delved deeply into dark magic or abused it. Although emotion magic could shield him from dark magic's negative emotions, who knew if there were any other "side effects".
So, actually, he could only chain a Killing Curse at most, huh. Entirely inconsequential.
"Because of the Wizengamot conference—"
Dumbledore maintained a calm demeanor, as if he had long prepared an explanation, "After all, I'm the Chief Warlock of the British Ministry of Magic's Wizengamot, attendance at such international conferences is required. You know, our Minister..."
Dumbledore didn't continue, as it wasn't his first time complaining to William about Cornelius Fudge.
"..."
Lupin listened to all this silently, his soup-drinking pace remaining unchanged, yet his inner shock grew stronger and stronger.
Last time in the cabin, still in his initial shock, he missed many details. But now... this conversation thoroughly revealed that William and Dumbledore's relationship didn't quite adhere to the teacher-student dynamic he previously imagined.
"What about him?"
William pointed at Percival beside him, still chewing on the beefsteak, his tone calm, "Is he also a Wizengamot member? Which country's Ministry of Magic allows a Black Wizard to hold such a high position?"
The smile faded from the old man's face.