"Shocking! The Graves Family Has Been Wiped Out, and the Real Culprits Are Them?!"
"...Is everyone from the UC Shock Department heading to work in New York now?"
Lupin had just unfolded this morning's New York Ghost Gazette. William, who was resting with his eyes closed beside him, glanced over, unable to maintain composure upon seeing the incredibly familiar shock headline. Indeed, it's all about journalism.
Knowing the whole story, William didn't continue reading and instead turned his gaze toward the window—
They were currently sitting in a flying carriage, pulled swiftly through the clouds by two rows of Thestrals flapping their wings.
And directly beneath the carriage was Mount Greylock, located in the northwest corner of Massachusetts, shrouded in fog and dense forests growing halfway up, encircling the mountain's peak where an ancient gray stone castle stood.
This was the only magic school in all of North America—Ilvermorny.
At this moment, the three of them had just left Ilvermorny, and during the summer vacation, this magic school was no different from Hogwarts. Except for a few stationed professors and the Headmistress, nobody else was in the castle. When William took the Goblet of Fire away, he faced no obstacles, and now it quietly lay in the wooden box on his lap.
Although it's a rare magical artifact and an antique, the Goblet of Fire is actually of no use other than for drawing lots—
Therefore, there's no story like "Guanyin Temple Monk Covets Treasure Black Wind Mountain Monster Steals Robe," nor any outdated face-slapping saga. Other than William accidentally getting lost for half an hour in the castle, which was two times larger than Hogwarts, their Ilvermorny visit went smoothly without any waves.
In fact, while William was lost, Lupin had already discussed the specifics of the "X Tournament" with the current Headmistress of Ilvermorny.
"He probably had correspondence with Dumbledore long ago, and we came only to retrieve the Goblet of Fire."
Lupin shrugged; he hadn't needed to say much before Headmistress Matana agreed to the tournament proposal and even offered to help them contact Castelobruxo (South America's magic school) to expand the originally Europe-only Triwizard Tournament worldwide.
"Moreover, it's Dumbledore trying to keep me busy, fearing idle nobles might trouble me."
William nodded, adding that Dumbledore likely learned from past experience. In the 1890s, when William last enrolled, every summer the wizard population on Great Britain Island saw a sharp decline.
Dumbledore probably wanted to avoid witnessing such a scene, hence he "sent" him across the Atlantic... This move is called "Let thy friend perish so thou shalt survive."
"...Well, he has indeed found you quite the project."
Seated across in the carriage, Sirius murmured in appraisal, shaking his head as he gently scratched the chin of the ginger cat in his lap. The cheetah, after being shrunk, was named Ashley by Sirius. It was presently comfortingly squinting its eyes, purring softly, and curling up in Sirius's lap—
Originally, William wanted to name it Custard Pie, but Sirius firmly rejected it, leaving the name to Ashley's eldest son.
Oh, right, the other one is called Kate Cat (from Frog King Cool Treasure).
William always named Pokémon without logic, usually choosing whichever came to him in a dream.
"...You seem a bit nervous?"
Following a brief exchange, the carriage interior was left with only the faint sound of breathing. Lupin carefully folded the newspaper, gazing somewhat unintentionally at William, who had returned to resting with closed eyes, his brow furrowed instinctively, feeling something awry with William.
"Could it be acrophobia?"
Sirius suddenly asked with a hint of schadenfreude.
"...Just hope you won't get acrophobia later."
William slowly forced his eyes slightly open, glanced at Sirius grinning away, and suddenly chuckled, speaking.
"What do you mean?"
"Do you know what happened the last time I rode a carriage driven by Thestrals?"
"...What?"
"Boom—"
The next moment, without any warning, the wooden carriage suddenly split in two from the middle. Sirius instinctively reached for the railing, only to realize the distance between him, William, and Lupin was expanding. Heavy breaths overpowered the howling gust that whipped past his ears—
"...Just like this."
William sighed, beginning to reflect that this moment was so remarkably similar to that moment...
...
For the past few days, Rod Evans hadn't had an easy time.
In every sense.
The current America's magic realm was experiencing a tumultuous upheaval, surging waves, clanging gongs, and bursting firecrackers...
Before the furor over the pure-blood family's massacre completely subsided, the Congress President, who had always been ineffective and mostly served as a puppet, suddenly took action. Beside him emerged a group of powerful unknown Aurors, and they began clearing out every wizard in the realm associated with that organization with thunderous measures—
As a half-blood wizard, Rod, whose mother was the only wizard, originally had no access to these things. However, after graduating as the top student from Ilvermorny, Rod directly joined the Auror Office and quickly climbed the ranks in just a few short years—
Thus, he soon found himself encountering things he never thought he would.
A choice: take the money and keep his mouth shut against his conscience, or never make any progress in this life again...
Rod believed anyone would know how to choose, especially since all he usually did was "turn a blind eye" to certain things. He never expected that those damned Aurors that seemed to appear out of thin air would knock on his door that very afternoon.
If it weren't for his habit of foreseeing the worst and being cautious, keeping a Portkey at home, he probably would have been locked up in the just-expanded Death Row that day.
But now, having escaped to Massachusetts with the Portkey, Rod didn't know what to do, so after some hesitation, he contacted a local poacher group, hoping to find a way to smuggle himself out of the country and avoid being caught by the Magic Congress.
But when he found the poacher leader, he was told that leaving was difficult because the whole country was under lockdown for some reason. The poacher team wanted to leave too, as that damned president somehow managed to find manpower and was cleaning out poaching strongholds across the map—
"Then what do we do? Wait to die?!"
Rod clutched the wound on his stomach from the conflict the day before, asking irritably.
"Of course, by using other methods!"
The poacher leader frowned annoyingly. He always hated the condescending attitude of officials, not to mention this seemingly well-appearing weak black ghost standing on his turf... How dare he?
"What method?"
Upon hearing there was another way, Rod's depressed spirits soared. He stared at the man, asking excitedly—since last night, his emotions had been wildly erratic, something he couldn't understand even after pondering for a long time. In the end, he attributed it to his own nervousness.
"Tomorrow, several Brits will leave from here by carriage. They definitely have Ministry of Magic permits—"
"You mean?"
"Borrow the identities of those Brits; a carriage with a little Extension Spell will hold quite a lot."
"Please, take me with you!"
"Heh, that requires some price, you see, my men aren't few, are they?"
"I-I left in a hurry and didn't bring much money..."
Rod's black face turned a bit embarrassed. He adjusted his slightly broken gold-rimmed glasses and mumbled quietly.
"Hey, who said I want your money—"
"?"
...
"F-Fire Dragon?!"
The next morning, Rod, rubbing his sore behind, exited the tent and looked at the Hungarian Horntail in the center of the camp, bound by several chains and roaring skyward. Instinctively, he pulled out the gold-rimmed glasses that had been flattened into a monocle during last night's intense activity and exclaimed with astonishment.
"I heard there's a professor from Hogwarts among those Brits—and in the sky, it's only safe for us to pull out this guy."
The poacher leader followed Rod out of the tent and placed an arm around his shoulders, smiling ambiguously, "Though we don't know who, we have no absolute certainty of defeating a seasoned Ilvermorny or Hogwarts professor in the sky, so this is my assurance!"
"But... will it obey?"
"Heh, I'll make it obey."
The leader patted the Hungarian Horntail's neck, quickly directing his men to bring a pile of heavy metal contraptions. Under Rod's bewildered gaze, the metal, like armor, was fitted onto the dragon's neck. As the last buckle was fastened, a faint red glow began to circulate on the dragon's body—
"Buzz—"
On the dragon's chest armor, a fiery red magic array began to flicker in and out of view.
"Now, it's our strongest, most obedient little darling—"
The poacher leader's lips curled into a devilish smile, and things unfolded as he said. The dragon tore the carriage flying in the clouds into halves within moments. Now all they had to do was assume the coachman's position and make some repairs...
They could regain their freedom!
"Roar—"
So, amidst the poacher leader's wild laughter, two fire dragons roared out of the broken carriage, as the young Hungarian Horntail about to devour the "little filling" inside the half-eaten carriage suddenly paused, looking at the two clearly older fire dragons—
In its pale yellow pupils, a hint of clear confusion appeared.