French Aurors Had Never Been This Incompetent!

Apache grabbed a handful of Floo Powder and sprinkled it into the miniature fireplace, whereupon a fiery human head appeared.

"This is the Paris Carriage Headquarters, Carriage Number Seven. Please state your purpose." A gentle female voice came from inside.

Apache glanced at the door behind him, lowered his voice, and excitedly said to the customer service representative:

"Two wanted criminals by the Ministry of Magic are on our carriage... now!"

The customer service representative paused for a moment, then asked urgently, "Are you sure?"

"I'm absolutely certain!"

The other party hesitated for five seconds before saying again, "I will contact the Ministry of Magic immediately and have them connect to your fireplace via the Floo Network."

The flames went out, Apache waited anxiously for two minutes before the fire in the fireplace suddenly blazed up again.

It was no longer a young woman, but a middle-aged man. His voice was steady as he said, "I am Odom, the Auror of the Ministry of Magic. Who are you?"

Apache's hands trembled uncontrollably as he excitedly said, "Auror, I'm Apache, the ticket seller, and the person next to me..."

Odom interrupted impatiently, "Your headquarters contacted the Ministry of Magic and said you saw our wanted criminal—"

"Yes, yes, Auror." Apache, unperturbed by the other's rudeness, replied cheerfully.

"I compared the photos in the newspaper, and it's definitely them, a man and a woman, not very old, they look like a couple, and they even..."

"Is the wanted criminal currently in your carriage?" Odom interrupted again, "Please answer directly with yes or no!"

"Yes."

Can they hear you and me? Yes or no.

No! There's a door blocking the view.

Where are you taking them?

"Lyon Avenue."

"Which specific location, or which building?"

"They didn't say, they just told us to park when we arrived at the destination."

Odom hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Where are you now?"

"We've already passed Place Vendôme," driver Russell quickly reported, much like he was on Amap.

Two minutes later we arrived at the Tuileries Garden; five minutes later, we reached the Arc de Triomphe du Carrousel; ten minutes later, we passed the Jude Boehm National Museum; fifteen minutes later, we arrived at the Louvre.

"If you send Auror now, as long as the Apparition at the next intersection, it will be very soon..."

Odom hesitated for a moment, then refused, "Don't stop, don't slow down, keep going straight to Lyon Avenue. We'll immediately send Auror to ambush there; we have our own plan."

"But, Auror..." Apache became impatient.

"There are no 'buts'. They're just little wizards, not dangerous at all. Don't be afraid!" Odom's voice was deep.

Hearing the other person's stern tone, Apache shrank back.

He couldn't help but mutter to himself, "Didn't you say in the newspapers that the other side was dangerous?"

Now you're comforting me, saying it's just a little wizard and there's no danger at all?

You're kidding me!

"I want you to keep an eye on them both and make sure they don't show any unusual behavior," Odom carefully instructed.

"If Stark Apparition with that girl, you must follow him..."

"But sir, I can't Apparition, and I haven't obtained the certificate."

"... Then don't show anything unusual! Communication here will remain uninterrupted; stay in touch at all times."

"I understand." Apache's voice trembled as he asked, "Auror, about the bonus mentioned in the news..."

"As long as we catch them, you won't lose a single penny!" Odom said impatiently.

Odom left the fireplace, Cregan, the Chief of the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, standing beside him, revealed a slight smile on his cold face.

"Finally, news from Stark," Cregan said softly. "It wasn't for nothing that I faced so much pressure to issue a nationwide warrant for the Order of Merlin."

Especially young wizards from the United Kingdom.

Frankly speaking, if this matter goes wrong, Cregan's political career will probably be over.

The other party was no ordinary wizard; he was a genius with some reputation in the United Kingdom and even internationally... not to mention he was only fourteen years old.

But if Scamander's box is found and the United Kingdom is successfully convicted, his prestige in the country will soar, and it's not impossible for him to become the next minister.

"Sir, why don't we just wait at the intersection where the carriage will pass and intercept Stark?" Odom paused for a moment.

"That ticket seller is clearly an idiot. I'm afraid he'll give himself away, and Stark will Apparition away with the girl."

"No, a young wizard can't use magic outside of school." Cregan shook his head. "He won't Apparition in front of the ticket seller; that would give them leverage."

"But he has already cast many spells, and may have even illegally used Polyjuice Potion!"

"Yes, we know that, but do you have any proof?" Cregan said irritably.

"Stark just arrived in Paris and registered his wand. Has the Wand Permit Office detected any magic in his wand?"

"No." Odom's momentum weakened.

Stark left the hotel with a second-year witch, then went to the scene of the Scamander attack, and then quietly left, disappearing completely.

Throughout the entire process, who among you saw him cast a spell?

Odom shook his head in shame. What the director said was true, but the more true it was, the more incompetent they appeared.

The France Auror had never been so utterly incompetent, being completely outmaneuvered by a mere underage wizard.

"Therefore, to understand a person, one must begin with what they have done," Cregan said earnestly.

"Stark won't leave us any leverage; I clearly underestimated the kid."

"The youngest recipient of the Order of Merlin... At first I thought he was just lucky, but now it seems I was wrong, terribly wrong."

Odom was taken aback; it was the first time he had ever heard the director admit his mistake.

"Immediately send Auror to lie in ambush on Lyon Avenue. Our target has never been Stark, but Scamander's chest."

Since he went there, the box is probably there too.

"We must find and convict Scamander, or we will become a France laughingstock internationally," Cregan ordered.

Just then, another Auror rushed over and whispered, "Sir, something's happened."

"What's wrong?" Cregan asked.

"Many Dementor have been discovered near the North Sea."

"Dementor?" Cregan frowned. "They're not in Azkaban, how did they get to France?"

"It's unclear at the moment, but the other party seems extremely arrogant and has already attacked several Muggle."

"What are these United Kingdom doing?" Cregan said angrily.

"One Scamander and one Stark have already kept us on our toes, and now they've sent Dementor... Do they really think France is United Kingdom backyard?"

"Immediately banish the Dementor, then lodge a protest with the International Confederation of Wizards, requesting sanctions against the foolish United Kingdom Ministry of Magic!"

The Auror paused for a moment, then turned and left, seemingly to write a letter of protest.

Odom, standing to the side, couldn't help but mutter to himself:

"If protests were effective, there would be no Grindelwald and Voldemort."

Besides, the Grand Master of the International Confederation of Wizards is the great Dumbledore... he's that damned United Kingdom."

The carriage sped along Boulevard Voltaire.

William turned his head to look out the window. He could see the facade of the famous Musée d'Orsay.

As the gaze continues to move, the ancient Ramesses Obelisk comes into view, the symbol of the Jude Boehm National Gallery.

Hermione tilted her head and leaned on William's shoulder, gazing absently at the scenery outside the carriage with the boy.

Hermione, however, was thinking about something else: if only the carriage could travel like this forever.

The cockpit door opened, and the ticket seller came out.

Hermione was startled by the sound of the door opening and gently raised her head.

Apache quickly closed the door, found a seat, and started fiddling with his radio again.

Hermione looked around, then suddenly sat up straight in her chair, as if she had just remembered something.

"Oh, Merlin, William!" She turned to look at him, her face ashen.

Apache stared intently at the "extremely dangerous" fugitives.

Hermione hesitated for a moment, then resolutely stammered in her broken French, which was worth only five Knut:

"William, we... we've come to the wrong place!"

"Hmm?" William looked at the girl, puzzled.

Hermione gripped William's hand tightly, her eyes flashing with unwavering determination.

"No! We shouldn't go to the Lyon Avenue, we should go to..."

Hermione couldn't remember how to say Louvre in French, so she pointed to the glass pyramid that was slowly appearing in the distance.

"The Louvre?" William prompted in French.

"Yes, we should go to the Louvre..."

"Scamander's trunk is in the Louvre!" Hermione said in broken French.

"I swear on the honor of the Ministry of Magic, I am absolutely certain!"

William frowned... Does the Ministry of Magic have any reputation?

Isn't that thing just like Fudge's integrity—completely shattered?