The petrified prime minister could not speak, but Amosta understood from the pleading flickering in his eyes that he probably agreed to his proposal.
"Thank you for your cooperation—"
Amosta said, snapping his fingers.
Another gust of wind sprang up from nowhere, and then the prime minister discovered that he could suddenly move again.
The Minister for Magic and the Vice Chairman of the International Confederation of Wizards—
The prime minister panted as he stretched his neck, which he had sprained during that frantic run just now.
"What was that?"
The thought of calling for help crossed the prime minister's mind again, only to be discarded. Watching the gray-haired young man walk toward the reception sofa, he asked in a trembling voice.
"That? Oh, that was magic—"
Amosta waved his wand, and a filthy wine bottle and three crystal-clear glasses immediately appeared on the coffee table.
"So, Mr. prime minister, have a seat and let's talk. We can have a drink together as well. This is mead Madam Romesta aged with the finest oak—
Of course, it was not a magic trick. It was magic.
Otherwise, the titles of these two people who had suddenly appeared in his office would have been "Minister of Magic Tricks" and "Vice Chairman of the International Confederation of Magicians."
The prime minister could not stop his mind from running wild as he slowly walked toward the sofa, where the two people were eagerly awaiting him.
"From what you've said—"
Though he did not currently hold the initiative, the prime minister had no intention of being led around by the nose by these two strangers during the coming conversation. He frowned and watched the intruders warily.
"My predecessor, he seemed... seemed to know you?"
"Generally speaking, the Minister for Magic only contacts the reigning Muggle