More than three months have passed since Luke Wood's "attack," and the British Ministry of Magic has long since emerged from its somber mood.
The receptionist was very busy because there were so many wizards coming to verify the authenticity of last night's live stream, and a long queue had formed in the Entrance Hall.
Vincent was quickly recognized, and many wizards, especially reporters, gathered around him.
"Mr. Wayne, what are your thoughts on the Ministry of Magic's response this morning?"
"Mr. Wayne, I heard that the Ministry of Magic's live broadcast was interrupted last night, and you later restored the broadcast through technical means. Is that true?"
"Mr. Wayne ..."
Vincent's only response was "no comment".
No one knows who secretly started the live stream, but when he entered the elevator, he received a message from his parents.
After a brief chat, he opened the Dubidubi video platform, where many wizards were live-streaming the situation in the Department of Magic.
Rita was also live-streaming, but her content was a frame-by-frame analysis of last night's duel between Dumbledore and Voldemort.
Vincent turned off the projection screen of the Magical Communicator. "Professor McGonagall, it seems we'll have to go through the back door later."
The era of social media in the Wizarding World is beginning to take shape. Any wizard with even a little bit of fame is likely to be besieged, let alone when they come to the Ministry of Magic as witnesses.
If you encounter a streamer who has no morals or bottom line, they will do anything to gain followers.
"Hmph—" Draco tilted his head, almost pointing his nostrils at Vincent, "You're scared by this little thing? Wayne, you're getting more and more timid."
Vincent rolled his eyes. "You're brave, you're amazing. Just remember to use the front door."
Draco glared back, but just as he was about to retaliate, the elevator doors opened.
Although the second basement level of the Ministry of Magic is the same as before, the walls, floors, and ceilings of this entire level have been specially magically reinforced.
Even if there were ten suicide bombers like Luke Wood, let alone one, they wouldn't be able to collapse this floor again.
McGonagall led the three of them out of the elevator and into the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
As Vincent had predicted, the statement taking was just a formality.
You ask me, I answer you, and the questions you ask are all rather pointless.
"Mr. Wayne, how are your grades?"
"Excellent in all aspects".
"So what do you do in your free time at school?"
"Reading books, developing new alchemical tools, teaching classmates combat..."
After a series of questions, Vincent felt he was there to have a casual chat.
After giving his statement, he "bumped into" Fudge as soon as he stepped out the door.
"What a coincidence, Vincent. Would you like to come over to my office for a bit?"
Since the Minister for Magic personally invited us, we should give him some face.
Vincent gave McGonagall a briefing and quietly followed Fudge into the elevator to the next floor.
The Minister's Office has undergone a slight change, with some magical equipment confiscated from the Goblins Hall added as decorations.
If it wasn't intentional, the fact that Fudge dared to display it so blatantly shows that he didn't care whether the Goblin would have any objections.
Vincent was not intimidated at all; he sat calmly opposite Fudge.
How are you feeling?
Vincent surveyed everything in the room. "It's quite nice; it reflects the Minister for Magic's status and power."
Fudge dropped his fake smile. "No, I meant the situation at the Ministry of Magic."
Vincent squinted, a hint of languor and contentment in his eyes, "Escaping reality."
Fudge shook his head in disappointment. "I'm not like you. I have a lot of things to consider."
Politicians' mouths are deceitful; they always have excuses to justify their inaction.
Did Fudge really not understand the harm Voldemort's return would bring to the British Wizarding World? No, he knew very well, but he still chose to keep it a secret.
He was disappointed in Vincent, and so was Vincent.
"Mr. Minister, maintaining a false peace must be very tiring, right?"
Fudge's eyes widened instantly, but he quickly regained his composure. "It's my duty."
Vincent's face clearly showed disgust. "That's why I hate politicians. I still prefer the feeling of being free and unrestrained."
Fudge sighed softly, "That's a real shame. The ministry has decided to cover up this incident at all costs."
Vincent's lips curled into a wicked smile, as if he saw through everything. "I understand, Mr. Minister. Thank you for telling me."
Hermione's concerns were valid; he was more curious about just how far a person blinded by lust for power could go in their pursuit of no limits.
"It's getting late." Vincent stood up. "Mr. Minister, I should go back."
Despite the huge conflict between them, Fudge still got up and saw him to the door.
After quietly leaving the Ministry of Magic Vincent did not return to school immediately, but instead wandered aimlessly through central London.
He would occasionally glance at the tall buildings on either side of him, and when he passed Westminster Abbey, he would casually walk inside.
A figure quickly followed, and the moment he passed through the door, his voice rang out from behind the other person. "Why are you the one in charge of monitoring me?"
The man turned around abruptly, looking at Vincent leaning against the door with a wry smile. "Wayne, when did you find me?"
Vincent looked at the outfit of the Wales vest, shorts, and flip-flops, "Since I left the Ministry of Magic."
Wales felt a little embarrassed by his gaze. "Don't misunderstand, I'm dressed like this to better carry out my mission."
London at the end of June wasn't particularly hot, but the outfit of tank tops, shorts, and flip-flops was still quite common.
Vincent's lips curled up slightly. "Alright, it would indeed be difficult for other wizards to detect you."
Wales was in an even more awkward position.
The surveillance mission was discovered by the target as soon as it started, but it would be abnormal if Vincent Wayne, who had managed to outwit the Auror last year and whose magical abilities were kept hidden, hadn't been discovered yet.
Thinking of this, Wales seemed to relax. "Now that you've found out, why not keep pretending?"
Vincent shifted his position, leaning against the door, his fingers lightly stroking his chin, with a somewhat nonchalant air. "Don't get me wrong, I just came to say hello to someone I know."
Wales raised an eyebrow. "I have a feeling you're up to something?"
"Ha—" Vincent laughed, a loud laugh. "The Ministry of Magic has people monitoring me. If there's any conspiracy, it's you guys who started it first."
"..." Wales was speechless.
The Ministry of Magic's surveillance of Vincent was definitely not for good purposes; personally, he was actually somewhat resistant to the mission.
Although he Vincent were once enemies, after the Death Eaters' attack on the camp last year, he also developed some appreciation for Vincent.
How bad can someone be if they stand up for the wizards when they are in the most pain and helpless?