The Ministry of Magic's Rotten Luck

Once again,

Hermione once again felt the gap between herself and Vincent.

She wasn't discouraged. Instead, she was glad to have become his friend.

"Finished?"

"Yeah." She took off her boxing gloves. "No matter how rotten the Ministry of Magic is, I still want to change it from within."

Vincent put away both pairs of gloves. "Let's go. Let's see just how rotten it's become."

After putting on the gloves transformed from his Mithril ring, he stuffed the pig-headed Tash into a small pouch enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm.

"How are you planning to bring him to the Ministry of Magic?"

"With a method no one would ever think of."

Back upstairs,

Sam was drinking Butterbeer.

Whether it was deliberate or not, the wooden cup Aberforth had provided was filthy, as though it had never been wiped clean.

"You guys were quick."

The ambiguous question made Hermione and Daphne lower their flushed little faces again.

Rolling his eyes, Vincent shook the small pouch in his hand.

"Wait for me." Sam raised his cup and drained the beer inside in one gulp.

It tasted like butterscotch and had a low alcohol content.

He apparently neither thought there was anything wrong with the cup nor with having a drink before setting off.

Aberforth watched the four of them vanish into a black-and-white vortex.

He gave the wooden cups a quick rinse, then turned them upside down and put them away.

Outside Westminster Abbey in central London.

Feeling slightly unwell, Hermione hurriedly let go of Vincent's hand.

But she didn't let go of the hand holding Daphne's.

Sam slung an arm around Vincent's shoulders and waggled his eyebrows at him.

"Wayne, you little brat sure have thick skin~"

"Because I've never had dirty thoughts like yours."

It was perfectly normal