The Minister for Magic arrived with his secretary and Auror, so catching up can be ruled out.
Considering the performance of the legendary Auror, there are only a few possibilities left.
Either Vincent has committed a crime, or he has asked Dumbledore for help.
Fudge stepped forward with heavy steps. "Albus Dumbledore, I have some very unfortunate news to tell you."
Vincent keenly noticed that Kingsley and Moody's expressions were somewhat unnatural.
Umbridge's forced smile was taken as normal by him.
Dumbledore looked quite surprised. "What is it?"
"You are under arrest, Albus Dumbledore."
Fudge gave him a look, and Kingsley and Moody both stepped forward.
"Sorry, old friend." Moody took the Elder Wand handed to him. "I never expected my last mission would be to escort you back to the ministry."
Vincent's mind was a bit of a mess.
There are few wizards in the entire Wizarding World who have this ability, and the president of the Black Swan Club happens to be one of them.
"Cornelius, may I ask what my crime is?"
Fudge sighed softly, "I didn't want to do this either, but the ministry has received just too many protests in the last two months."
Albus Dumbledore, they all think you're responsible for what happened to Quirinus.
This matter is neither trivial nor serious.
It is true that Dumbledore was the most powerful wizard of his time, but if the Sorcerer's Stone had been kept in the Ministry of Magic, the outcome would probably have been completely different.
Taking money to do something and then making a big deal out of it— this Vincent's animosity towards the Ministry of Magic.
"It is indeed my fault." Dumbledore shook his head helplessly. "They are right, and I should be held responsible for what happened to Quirinus."
Since Fudge's attitude of "confessing" was so good, he proceeded with the formalities.
"Albus Dumbledore, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement will deliver a fair judgment."
He looked over at Vincent, "If things go well, the investigation should be finished before the holiday ends."
This is both a reminder and a warning.
If something is accidentally leaked, the investigation will naturally slow down.
Dumbledore gave him a knowing wink.
Vincent nodded solemnly and cooperatively.
In terms of acting skills, he played the role of a child for eleven years.
"Minister Fudge, are you sure the professor will be alright?"
Upon receiving the signal, Umbridge stepped forward, trying her best to appear more approachable, "It will be, child."
The Ministry of Magic has always adhered to fair and impartial selection principles; it will never let a bad person go unpunished, nor will it wrong an innocent person.
Sending her here to brainwash people was a huge mistake.
Vincent thought the taciturn Kingsley was quite suitable, at least he wouldn't let this dislike deepen.
"That's great, I've always believed in you."
After the big stick comes down, it's time to give out the sweet dates.
Sure enough, Fudge stepped forward, smiled, and gently patted his shoulder.
"Mr. Wayne, the Ministry of Magic is in dire need of talented people like you."
You absolutely must come to our place after you graduate!
"I will seriously consider it." Vincent seemed overjoyed.
But in his heart, he had long since despised this minister to be worthless.
He had thought it was a big sweet date, but it turned out to be just a big pancake that hadn't even been properly kneaded.
This is just fooling children!
Um—he really is still a child.
At least that's what Fudge thinks.
Having explained the reasons and eliminated the hidden dangers, it was finally time to say goodbye.
"Vincent, give my regards to Nicolas Flamel." Dumbledore's gaze was quite intriguing.
"I will, Professor," Vincent, blinking his innocent big eyes.
If the setting were different, such as a gallows, it would definitely bring tears to many viewers' eyes.
"Oh—" Umbridge said sweetly as she took out a pink handkerchief and gently wiped away a tear from the corner of her eye, a tear that seemed to be a sign of hypocrisy.
"Minister Fudge, we must clear Professor Dumbledore's name as soon as possible!"
"You're right, then we'll be going now."
Under Vincent's hopeful gaze, all eight of them were swallowed up one after another by the black and white vortex.
"I'm so tired—" He stretched out his hand, twisted his neck, and yawned.
I didn't wear earmuffs to bed last night, and it definitely affected my sleep quality.
Fudge's repeated assurances to Umbridge only prove that Old Malfoy's influence is nowhere near as great as Dumbledore's.
Regardless of whether Gold Galleons arrive or not, the Britain of Ministry of Magic's decision can still be influenced.
Having received two important pieces of information Vincent looked back at the open field.
He cautiously reached out his hand, and the scene before him seemed to ripple.
This special magical barrier is presumably used to conceal the true location.
Judging from the fact that the seven people chose to appear outside rather than inside, it can be almost certainly concluded that Anti-Apparition Jinx was also set up.
Vincent, who had passed through the barrier, was dumbfounded.
This building, hundreds of meters tall, with colorful light strips floating on its walls, is clearly not a product of this era.
It's cyberpunk, and it's also punk.
He time-traveled again?
Arriving in 2077?
If it weren't for the two elderly men in simple robes standing at the foot of the building, he would already be on the run.
"Surprised, aren't you, kid?" Nicolas Flamel extended her wrinkled right hand.
"No, it's shock." Vincent hadn't forgotten Dumbledore's instructions.
After a gentle handshake, he began to carefully examine the building.
Those floating light strips didn't seem to be made of magic.
The wall material doesn't look like metal, at least not any metal that Muggle would find.
Nicolas Flamel patiently explained, "It's a tall building entirely constructed using Alchemy, possessing multiple functions including attack and defense—"
Perenelle gave him a casual wink, "Kid, come on in and talk."
"Ah—oh, yes, Madame Flamel." Vincent looked away somewhat blankly.
Automatically opening glass door;
A lobby filled with a sci-fi atmosphere;
An elevator that operates without any vibration or noise throughout its journey;
A high-definition display screen that is so thin it's practically nonexistent.
All of this demonstrates that the amiable legendary Alchemists before us is undoubtedly the most hardcore punk master in the Wizarding World.
When Vincent saw the metal humanoid machines under construction inside the building through the large transparent glass of the elevator, he almost knelt down on the spot.
"These are all products of Alchemy; I created them..."
This time, Perenelle didn't stop him.
The circuit board is replaced with Magical Circuit, and then different Magical Runes are inscribed on it. Finally, the assembly is completed using the principle of mechanical transmission.
Vincent understood each word individually, but not when they were put together.
"Alchemy is so magical that I have never grown tired of studying it for nearly six hundred years."
"Gulp—" Vincent looked at Nicolas Flamel, whose face was full of longing, and knew that he had come to the right place.
So what if he's Voldemort? He can learn from such a legendary Alchemists. He'd even dare to take a swipe at Grindelwald with his sword.