Back in his room, Vincent turned on the light and leisurely moved a stool over to sit on the edge of the bed.
Sam's eyes widened like light bulbs.
After his mouth was freed, he immediately uttered a genuine American swear word.
Then I couldn't say it anymore.
Under his murderous gaze, Vincent slowly swung his wand.
"Mr. Sam Chavez, you didn't report your arrival to the British Ministry of Magic, did you?"
Sam could suddenly speak, snorted coldly, "Wayne, Director Graves is joking with me. If you know what's good for you, untie me right now."
Vincent clicked his tongue. "First of all, you'd have to be able to go back to United States, right?"
I have some connections with Minister Fudge; if I report you for illegal entry, you'll at least be detained in Azkaban for ten days or so.
"Pickled radish—" Sam quickly shut his mouth.
Evelyn is at home; after scolding her, she'll probably have to put on a smiling face and see her off.
"Wayne," he said with a fawning smile, "We've been friends for a long time, I know you wouldn't do something so cruel."
By the way, the best app for reading aloud right now is Wild Fruit Reading (yeguoyuedu). Please install the latest version.
"Then what should I do?" Vincent clenched his fists. "You're a wanted criminal!"
If anyone finds out I've been covering for you, Mr. Graves will probably be standing right in front of me the next second.
Sam rolled his eyes. "Doesn't Hogwarts have an Anti-Apparition Jinx?"
"What if it were during a holiday?"
He curled his lip. "You want me to run away right now?"
"That won't do!" Vincent straightened up as if his expression had changed.
"If I get dragged back for investigation because of you again, won't your conscience bother you?"
Sam's entire face was twitching wildly.
Keep acting.
"I'll just turn myself in then, okay?"
"No!" Vincent clutched his chest. "It doesn't matter if I get arrested, the problem is my parents!"
They don't know magic. If you're Legilimency or drink Veritaserum, you'll never get a good night's sleep again!
"I—" Sam paused for a moment,
"No, aren't both of these strictly prohibited by the International Confederation of Wizards?"
"Minister Fudge might not dare, but his personal secretary definitely would!"
"Should I turn myself in right now?"
Vincent leaned closer with a dark expression. "Have you thought this through? I've heard that every single one of those who come out of Azkaban is a bit crazy."
"Gulp—" Sam swallowed hard. "So what do you want me to do?"
"What should we do?" Vincent's lips curled into a smile. "If I get caught, you'll feel bad about it, won't you?"
"Uh-huh."
"If you turn yourself in, it will definitely implicate me, won't it?"
"Uh-huh."
"So, you have to teach me a simple little trick to escape."
"Um—wait!" Sam realized.
After all that buildup and deception, it turns out they were after his money.
"Tell me what kind of magic it is first."
"Apparition".
That expression... you're going to keep messing with me if I don't agree, right?
Is that all?
"Of course not."
Sam glanced away dismissively. "Can't you be a little more sincere when you ask for help?"
"I am, after all, an outstanding Auror of the Magical Congress, and I've received the Congressional Medal of Honor."
Vincent straightened up and gently rubbed his slightly sore face. "I haven't asked you for food money yet."
You've fallen on such a state, and you still dare to buy things from my dad? Do you even have any money on you?
Of course, I'm talking about the British pound.
Sam's eyes grew increasingly guilty.
Good grief, you want to buy on credit, huh?
People cannot... or at least should not.
How did someone become Auror if they were to relentlessly sabotage another person?
Sam doesn't deserve to be treated kindly!
Vincent, having grasped this principle, felt no remorse whatsoever; he even felt he was acting on behalf of God.
No money? Then work for me to pay off my debts!
It's logical and well-founded, but something just doesn't feel right.
There are only two choices.
You either live a life of humiliation and hardship, or you survive by sheer luck after suffering immense torment.
"Fine," Sam reluctantly agreed.
Vincent reached out his little hand towards the bed. "Until the magic Contract is signed, I will keep your wand for now."
"Huh? You don't trust me?"
"If you cause trouble, you can just pack your bags and run away—" He picked up Sam's wand and waved it.
"Mr. Chavez, do you think I should be on guard?"
Sam had nothing to say.
I did think about breaking the curse and running away, but that was just a thought.
Turning the tables?
The yacht incident from last year is still fresh in my mind.
And this is the Wayne family home, the Wayne home where they'll pull out a gun and shoot at the drop of a hat.
After dawn,
Dumbledore returned to the Ministry of Magic.
He wasn't there to report a wanted criminal, of course; he was there to retrieve Morfin Gaunt's bail documents.
He went straight to the Minister's Office to explain his purpose, but Fudge sadly shook his head.
"Albus Dumbledore, Morfin Gaunt Gaunt died the day before yesterday."
Dumbledore lowered his head and sighed.
He believed no one would dare to tamper with Azkaban, but regretted not being able to truly help Morfin Gaunt.
"Did Mr. Gaunt leave any last words?"
"No, but I don't think he felt any pain when he left."
"Is that so..." Dumbledore composed himself and met Fudge's somewhat anxious eyes.
"Albus Dumbledore, is what's going on in Japan true?"
"Although I didn't see it with my own eyes, it was indeed a Blasting Curse with its power controlled to the minimum."
If it were a normal Blasting Curse, there wouldn't be any debris left.
Sirius Black Black once used this spell to blow up an entire street corner, killing 12 Muggle on the spot.
Peter Pettigrew was hit directly by him, was blown to smithereens. If it weren't for the fact that he still had one finger left, no one would know that he died from the Blasting Curse.
No matter how unwilling Fudge was to believe it, he had no choice but to accept the fact that the Death Eaters had appeared.
"Albus Dumbledore, why didn't those people act immediately?"
"He was too weak, and the cost of possessing a living person was too high."
Quirrell's current miserable state must be the result of experiencing extremely painful experiences.
Ah—what a fine student from Ravenclaw.
Dumbledore had given most of the instructions, and before leaving, he seemed to want to say something more.
"Albus Dumbledore, is there anything else?"
"No, Cornelius."
If the Wizard Cards is a bomb, so be it; it's too late to say it now anyway.
Fudge saw him off in person.
His expression and demeanor were very respectful, but unfortunately, they still failed to impress Dumbledore.
After a burst of fire, Fudge returned to his office with a dark expression.
Lucius donated a large sum of Gold Galleons just a few days ago, so the Death Eaters story is probably true.
Voldemort's new recruit?
Impossible! It must be someone who slipped through the net thirteen years ago!
He seemed to be trying to comfort himself.
Dumbledore said that Voldemort is still weak and may not regain his strength for another thirteen years.