The flames in the fireplace suddenly shot up and turned emerald green.
The Prime Minister's thoughts were interrupted by the sudden green light. He squinted slightly, watching the green flame roll and expand in the furnace.
Then a short, stout man in a crimson robe staggered out of the flames.
Fudge's face was clearly very unpleasant.
His tall, round hat sat askew on his head, and the front of his robe was stained with a layer of ash.
Her hair, which was usually neatly combed, was now a messy plaster on her forehead, as if she had been forcibly dragged out of a deep dream.
After he came to a stop, he looked around as if to confirm where he was before turning his gaze to the Prime Minister behind the desk.
"Mr. Prime Minister," Fudge began, his voice tinged with a guilty urgency, "I received your urgent summons, but I don't quite understand—"
"Don't you understand?" the Prime Minister interrupted him.
He didn't stand up; he remained seated in his chair, his hands flat on the table, his gaze calmly fixed on Fudge's face.
That calmness made Fudge instinctively take half a step back.
" Mr. Fudge, just twenty minutes ago, a voice was heard all over London."
Fudge's lips moved, but no sound came out.
"The voice said that thirty International Auror had invaded London." The Prime Minister's voice was not loud, but every word seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth.
"All of London! Millions of people heard it!"
Fudge's face visibly paled.
"I..." He opened his mouth, his voice hoarse, "I'm very sorry, Mr. Prime Minister, I--"
"Sorry?" The Prime Minister raised an eyebrow.
He slowly stood up, placed his hands on the table, leaned forward slightly, and kept his gaze on Fudge's face.
"Your men have placed thirty Auror in London, without informing me or seeking my consent."
"They roam freely in my city, what do they think London is? Your Ministry of Ministry of Magic's backyard?"
A fine layer of sweat appeared on Fudge's forehead.
"This wasn't my intention, Mr. Prime Minister." He quickly waved his hand, his voice filled with an almost aggrieved urgency. "It was the decision of the International Confederation of Wizards. I... I only found out later."
"You only found out later?" the Prime Minister repeated his words.
"Yes, they... the International Confederation of Wizards sent thirty Auror, saying they were to track down... a dangerous person."
Fudge stammered as he spoke, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.
"I agreed at the meeting, but the specific arrangements... are all to be made by the International Confederation of Wizards."
The prime minister didn't speak, he just stared at him.
That silence made Fudge feel like a mouse being watched by a cat.
"The situation is now," the Prime Minister finally spoke, his voice even colder than before.
"My entire cabinet is calling me to ask what happened. The London Metropolitan Police's duty room is inundated with emergency calls. The Ministry of Defence thinks it's a military incursion, MI5 has already activated its emergency response plan."
He paused, as if waiting for Fudge to process this information.
"I covered it up for you. I told them to say it was a broadcast malfunction, signal interference, anything that could be said to cover it up. I cleaned up your mess, Mr. Fudge."
Fudge's lips trembled slightly. "I am very grateful, Mr. Prime Minister—"
"I don't need your gratitude," the Prime Minister interrupted him.
He walked around from behind the table and stood in front of Fudge. He was a head taller Fudge and looked down at the short, fat wizard with no warmth in his eyes.
"I need you to tell me how you plan to handle this."
Fudge opened his mouth, wanting to say something but finding himself speechless, like a fish pulled ashore.
"We... we will withdraw all Auror immediately." He finally said it, his voice much faster.
"I will explain to the International Confederation of Wizards that this operation... was indeed our mistake, and I will take responsibility."
"Take responsibility?" The Prime Minister tilted his head. "How? Issue a statement? Or fine a few Auror their salaries?"
Fudge's expression froze.
"Those are matters within your Wizarding World," the Prime Minister continued, his tone as flat as if he were reading a report.
"I mean, how do you plan to compensate the Great Britain government?"
Fudge blinked, as if he hadn't understood the question.
"Compensation?" he repeated, his tone clearly confused. "This... this is certainly right, but..."
He hesitated for a moment, then lowered his voice. "But how can we compensate your Muggle world? We don't use pounds."
The Prime Minister stared at him for two seconds, then gave a soft snort.
"You don't need to pay me back," he said, turning around and walking back behind his desk to sit down.
"I can handle the money myself; I can seek help from the Treasury for any economic losses."
Fudge breathed a sigh of relief, but before he could fully relax, the Prime Minister's next words made his heart leap into his throat again.
What I need is to get through this together.
Fudge frowned, his expression clearly saying, "I didn't understand at all."
"Get through this together?" he repeated cautiously.
"Yes." The Prime Minister leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his stomach, and looked calmly at Fudge.
"Your Wizarding World caused such a commotion in London this time. Although I managed to suppress it, the International Auror unilaterally invading London doesn't sound very good."
Fudge's expression changed for a moment.
"Don't be nervous." The Prime Minister waved his hand. "Like I said, what I want is to weather this storm together. I don't intend to use this to blackmail you; that's not my style."
Fudge looked at him with a skeptical expression.
"What I mean is," the Prime Minister's voice slowed, as if he were lecturing a student who wasn't very good at understanding.
"Since you have International Auror, you must have Ministry of Magic in other countries, right?"
Fudge frowned, then nodded. "Yes, on the Europe continent... the Gaul, the Hans Country, and the Iberia all have their own Ministry of Magic."
The International Confederation of Wizards is composed of the Ministry of Magic of various countries.
"Very good." The Prime Minister nodded. "Then let me ask you a question: Is there any connection between the Gaul Ministry of Magic and the Gaul Muggle government?"
Fudge's expression turned somewhat strange. "Yes... but not much. We have very little contact with the Muggle government to begin with, usually limited to emergencies—"
"That's right," the Prime Minister interrupted him, "That makes things easier."
Fudge looked at him blankly.