Awards Ceremony

Next came the awards ceremony. So that the spectators could see every detail as clearly as possible, the top box was lit as bright as day.

When Ministry of Magic staff carried the gold cup into the top box, a familiar face appeared alongside them—Benjamin Graves, President of MACUSA.

"President Graves..." Cornelius Fudge stepped forward and shook Benjamin Graves's hand. "I thought you were too busy and had forgotten about this."

"Minister Fudge..." Benjamin Graves said, "Something this important—even if I were tied up with all manner of affairs, I would still have to witness it in person..."

"That's wonderful!" Cornelius Fudge smiled. "Then I suppose you saw Wizet Lovegood of our England team's outstanding performance!"

Hearing this, Benjamin Graves unconsciously pressed his lips together, then swiftly recovered his smile. "Indeed... Of course I won't forget that..."

"But there is something Minister Fudge should not forget either. I believe that for Wizet, the North American team was undoubtedly the better choice... After all, it eliminated the Ireland team."

"That's true..." Cornelius Fudge maintained his smile. "Perhaps I ought to include that part... in the relevant compensation as well... and secure some benefits for Ireland!"

"How admirable!" Benjamin Graves bared his teeth in a smile, his voice squeezing through clenched teeth. "But I don't think doing that... will restore the reputation you've lost!"

Cornelius Fudge said with a smile, "It seems President Graves... knows me quite well!"

"I don't actually want to know you... but all the reports about you..." Benjamin Graves said, "There are simply too many!"

Both men wore amiable smiles, but their handshake gradually tightened. Their knuckles slowly turned white, and even the sound of bones clicking could be heard.

"Ooh!" Sirius Black watched Cornelius Fudge and Benjamin Graves square off, his tone carrying a hint of anticipation.