Ilvermorny was originally just a stone hut built by Isolt Thayer and her Muggle husband, James Potter Stewart.
As the school continued to grow, the cottage has become a castle.
As the number of students increased, more teachers were recruited.
"Ilvermorny was the best!" Sam pulled Munson down to sit. "Those were truly wonderful times."
Vincent, who had been listening quietly, did not refute.
Regardless of the truth, your alma mater is always the best.
Do you remember the Snakewood Tree at the school gate?
"I remember, not long after you enrolled, you secretly broke off a branch, which angered Dean O'Brien so much that he didn't like you much until you graduated."
Thunderbird House, which Sam attended, represents the soul of the school, and its students are almost all adventurous.
The Pukwudgie House, where Munson studied, represents the inner self, and its students are all kind-hearted.
Gryffindor and Hufflepuff?
The Horned Serpent House represents wisdom and has a particular preference for students who love learning.
The final Wampus House represent the physical body, and the students are all like Champion.
Ravenclaw and Gryffindor?
Vincent, recalling Gormlaith Gaunt, felt that the absence of Slytherin was perfectly normal.
Being hunted across the ocean is something that no one can do unless they are a true saint.
"I still don't understand why you are the best in our year."
Sam raised his chin high. "You know what a genius is? That's what I am."
Munson suppressed a laugh and looked at Vincent. "Yes, a genius tied up like a mummy."
"That was an accident!" Sam jumped to his feet. "You wouldn't understand even if I told you. I—"
Just as he was about to demonstrate something, Bradley suddenly grabbed him by the back of the neck.
"Damn it! You think I didn't see it?"
I was even planning to—you bastard, you really need to be taught a lesson!
"Director, my finger is cramping."
In front of many guests, Sam was punched hard three times on the forehead.
"Hiss—" The guests twitched their lips and stopped paying attention to what was happening here.
"Do they do this often?"
"Twice a week, sometimes three or four times."
Vincent and his parents found a relatively quiet spot to sit down.
There are medals to be won, food and drinks suddenly appear in the open space in front, and most importantly, there are "live performances".
This trip was incredibly worthwhile.
"Ahem—" Randolph raised the microphone, "Everyone, please calm down. Our Head of the Auror Office is educating some ignorant young people."
His humor and wit earned him a round of applause.
Bradley glared fiercely at Sam, who immediately lowered his head, looking aggrieved.
Randolph raised his fist on the stage, and the entire hall fell silent.
"Okay, I have some very important news to tell everyone—"
He looked in the direction of the Wayne family. "It's time to award them the Congressional Medal of Honor!"
The lights in the venue dimmed, and then a beam of white light shone from the ceiling, illuminating Vincent.
"The establishment of our Magical Congress has been fraught with difficulties, but they have only made us stronger!"
The lights in the hall gradually brightened, illuminating Randolph's resolute face. "We are an open and inclusive government, and any wizard or Muggle can receive this honor!"
Before Vincent could even criticize Fudge, he had to admire Fudge's foresight.
While it may seem like awarding medals to foreign friends, it is actually sending a signal to the world.
Many wizards who are ostracized in their own countries will likely move here to settle down.
"Please welcome our hero, Vincent Wayne!"
Amid cheers and applause, Vincent stood smiling beside Randolph.
"Mr. Wayne, this is what you deserve."
Randolph bent down slightly and personally pinned a delicate gold medal onto the jacket of Randolph's suit.
"M" stands for the Magical Congress, and the overlapping "M" below it represents honor.
"I hope I can have a second chance like this."
Vincent shook his head regretfully. "Chairman Randolph, Mr. Graves will be unhappy."
The guests in the audience were all laughing heartily.
Compared to Britain's subtle humor, America's humor is much more straightforward.
Randolph turned to Bradley, who was smiling. "No, look how happy he is!"
Bradley, feigning anger, raised his right hand and shook his index finger, as if to indicate that no outsider would ever receive this medal again.
"I'm sorry, old friend—" Randolph turned to Newt Scamander, "There's actually someone else who wants it!"
The lights dimmed again.
Newt Scamander, bathed in white light, strode forward.
"Mr. Scamander, I hope this will change your opinion of our Magical Congress."
Newt Scamander chuckled awkwardly, "I'll do my best."
After Randolph pinned the medal on him, he turned his attention back to Bradley.
"Our Head of the Auror Office said that since we've already received the medal once, taking it back would make many people resent us."
The guests all shook their heads, not finding the behavior at all offensive.
When the Magical Congress was founded, there were initially only 12 Auror.
The Graves Family are descendants of one of them.
Sam, who was far away from Bradley, was muttering something to himself.
Judging from the shape of their mouths, none of them seem to sound pleasant.
"Young people are the future, those are his exact words." Randolph paused, then looked in the direction of the light.
The illuminated Sam stared wide-eyed, his mouth agape in disbelief.
"Sam Chavez, he is one of the best young men we have had in recent years."
Sam, still in a daze, stared blankly at Bradley.
He seemed about to say something and strode towards the other person.
"You brat, get up there right now!"
"Thank you, Director Graves."
Sam hugged Bradley tightly. "If only you wouldn't always target me."
"Get out of here!" Bradley, amused and exasperated, shoved him away.
"From now on, you'd better do your job properly, or you can expect me to take back your medal!"
"Tch—once it's sent out, there's no reason to take it back."
Sam had already left before he was attacked.
Randolph gestured to Bradley below to come up and present the medal.
The answer I received was a shake of the head in refusal.
"Our Head of the Auror Office seems to be shy."
Amidst the teasing, Bradley reluctantly walked up.
He and Randolph each took one of the medals and pinned it on Sam, whose face was turning slightly green.
"Director Graves, it seems like things are going a bit astray."
"Adjust it yourself." Bradley smiled and leaned close to his ear. "Come to my office later. I have a very important task for you."
After thanking him uneasily, Sam ran off as if fleeing.
Based on his many years of professional experience, the more important the task, the more troublesome it is.