0812 The Situation (LARGE-CHAPTER)
The incident involving Hermione's attack had sent Bryan racing across half of Europe in February—London, Paris, Berlin, Bologna. These were all considered international metropolises in the current Muggle world, yet each paled in comparison to the city beneath his feet: New York.
This wasn't merely a question of urban development or prosperity, but something deeper, rooted in culture and mindset. None of the European cities Bryan had visited possessed the vitality and all-embracing inclusiveness that New York had.
America in the 1990s was indeed a remarkable nation, though—
In the presidential suite, where dark red velvet carpets covered the floors and crystal chandeliers cast dreamlike, soft glow, where vintage luxury decorations didn't lack for rich artistic atmosphere, and where refreshing aromatherapy scented the air: amidst all this comfort, Bryan tapped the floor with his toe and gazed toward the similar twin tower across from his temporary residence with a strange expression flickering in his eyes.
Similar worlds, one with magic, one without any supernatural power system at all.
Bryan had long since given up trying to understand how this could be. Perhaps his wisdom was worth praising among wizards, but faced with billions of Muggles, it might not even be considered exceptional. And this question was one of the universe's most unfathomable mysteries, beyond his ability to understand.
The ripples in his heart arose only because of what would befall this twin tower in a few years though whether it would still happen in this shifted world remained to be seen.
The glass windows reflected the city's mesmerizing, hazy neon lights as Bryan's gaze pierced through layers of light and shadow to focus on a building over fifty stories tall, several streets away beside the scenic Muggle City Hall Park.
The Woolworth Building, headquarters of the MACUSA of the United States of America.
Unlike the British Ministry of Magic, which lay completely underground beneath central London as an entirely wizard-built subterranean structure, the American MACUSA was hidden within a Muggle-constructed building, sharing space with Muggles. Of course, only the correct spells could access the spaces used by wizards.
Bryan swirled the crystal glass in his palm, dispersing the sediment in the crimson wine, and took a sip. He had a premonition that his New York journey would yield some interesting stories.
Actually, interesting things had already begun happening.
Bryan's brow furrowed slightly, his eyes revealing traces of bewilderment—an emotion rarely seen in him, to be honest.
Click!
The door opened, and Remus entered the suite with some urgency. Seeing Bryan admiring the night view by the window, he breathed a small sigh of relief.
If this had been before, even facing the Dark Lord directly, Remus wouldn't have worried much about Bryan's safety. After all, even if he couldn't defeat the Dark Lord, Remus absolutely refused to believe that Bryan couldn't at least escape. He had personally witnessed how Bryan destroyed that seaside cave where Regulus lay sleeping.
But the situation was different now. A wizard without his wand was like a dragon with its fangs pulled, claws clipped, and flame-freezing charm cast upon it—still intimidating in size, but with greatly reduced actual threat.
Thinking of this, anger welled up in Remus's heart over Bryan's treatment.
In Europe, no matter which country's Ministry of Magic Bryan visited, he would certainly receive courteous treatment. Yet here, he faced unprecedented contempt.
Remus felt angry not just because Bryan was his friend, but because Bryan had undoubtedly become a shining symbol of the British magical world. Such targeting of Bryan Watson could be seen as contempt for the entire British magical community—not to mention that Bryan himself was Vice President of the International Confederation of Wizards.
If this matter reached the papers, Remus dared say it would create a media storm throughout the Wizarding world.
"I had some food prepared—" Remus moved to Bryan's side. "It can be sent over anytime."
"Let's wait a moment—" Bryan considered, then said, "Amelia took my wand to be sealed in the Security Department. She'll be back soon, and we can wait for her to join us."
Amelia.
Remus raised an eyebrow, finally showing some amusement in his expression.
Faced with the Security Department's sudden additional restriction, Bryan had made a corresponding request: he could accept the Congress's monitoring, but he required that his monitor be Amelia, who had just graduated from magical school.
It seemed Bryan truly liked that girl.
Remus had never heard Bryan express such 'direct' fondness for any girl before.
When Bryan made this request, Ms. Mandy Hill was momentarily stunned, then her expression immediately became subtle and interesting. She even made the decision for Amelia and agreed to the arrangement though her word didn't count; the Security Department would have to approve it.
That reserved, cautious girl had blushed all the way to her neck, but under Bryan's calm gaze, she still suppressed her shyness and nodded firmly, saying in a slightly trembling voice, "I will convey your request, Mr. Watson—"
"I don't think the MACUSA will necessarily agree—" Remus's amusement faded as he spoke to the wine-tasting Bryan. "I mean, if the Congress wants all your activities within their borders under strict surveillance, then sending an experienced Auror would be the optimal choice, while Amelia is just a recently graduated witch."
"If those American wizards aren't complete fools," Bryan smiled, "they should understand that whether it's an experienced, powerful Auror or a fresh graduate 'rookie,' neither could restrain me, even without my wand. In that case, having the newly graduated Amelia accompany me is actually the wiser choice."
Remus frowned and pondered for a while before vaguely understanding what Bryan meant. "But I still don't quite understand—"
The long journey using Muggle transportation had exhausted Remus as well. He poured himself a drink and collapsed into the sofa, looking at Bryan who was admiring New York's nightscape.
"Given your status, Bryan, when you come to the MACUSA for a business visit—I understand you might follow normal procedures, but since the Congress is being so discourteous, why don't you just write directly to President Quahog? I'm sure he'd come out to receive you personally."
"I do have some acquaintance with President Quahog from our meetings in Paris," Bryan said. He stepped back from the viewing window and sat across from Remus, gently rubbing his temples. "There are some circumstances you might not be aware of, and I didn't research them beforehand. It was indeed an oversight."
"What?"
"The MACUSA is currently undergoing leadership elections. President Quahog isn't in New York right now, he's in Miami campaigning for votes. This isn't a good time to contact him, you understand, Remus?"
"Uh—" Remus opened his mouth awkwardly.
"Meeting with him at this time would be too politically stimulating. Many would inevitably think I came to New York at this critical juncture to endorse him, and I don't want to get involved in their turmoil. We have enough trouble of our own, and Quahog might not want to see me at this moment either."
"Why?" Remus felt like a school student again, completely confused by Bryan's reasoning. "Wouldn't this benefit him? I mean, with your good reputation in the magical world, if Quahog could gain your support, even if people just assumed it—"
"Those who can determine election outcomes are never the ordinary voters,"
Bryan smiled. "The American magical world's upper class isn't particularly harmonious with European magical society, especially Britain's. The reasons are both subtle and complex, involving the organizational structure of American magical society and even controversial issues like the founding of Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
If those people knew that Bryan Watson seemed intent on intervening in the Congress President election, Quahog would be in serious trouble. And what we need to accomplish here would face many more obstacles—"
Halfway through his words, Bryan suddenly stopped and looked toward the door. Before the knock came, he stood up from the sofa with some urgency, saying, "Amelia's back. Come on, let's get something to eat first."
Unlike American Muggle society's open, free, and vibrant atmosphere, the American magical world's degree of closure and isolation from Muggle society ranked among the highest of all magical civilizations worldwide. The Statute of Secrecy was enforced here with exceptional strictness.
Due to several notorious historical incidents, such as: the Salem witch trials of the seventeenth century; the eighteenth century's Scourers' wholesale attacks on Muggles; the late eighteenth century incident where witch Dorcus Twelvetrees revealed the magical world to her Muggle lover; the nineteenth century's Sasquatch riots; and the chaos created in the 1920s by Grindelwald, Newt Scamander, and his adorable creatures.
For a considerable period, the MACUSA even forbade Muggle-born wizards from revealing the magical world's existence to their closest relatives—a law only revoked in the mid-twentieth century.
Because of these incidents that caused widespread, serious consequences, the MACUSA enacted laws requiring any wizard appearing in the country, whether permanent resident or tourist, to carry wand permits, thereby tracking all magical activities and identifying perpetrators through their wands.
This regulation existed nowhere else in the magical world.
But the infamous Wand Permit Office, despised by foreign tourists and local residents alike, received little attention within the MACUSA itself.
Though sharing the Woolworth Building with Muggles, the wizarding space was more than twice as large as the Muggle portion.
In the luxurious space of over a hundred floors, the Wand Permit Office was actually housed in a warehouse for storing contraband. Anyone coming here on business had to duck through high and low metal stairs, carefully navigate shelves packed to capacity, wondering if the boxes labeled 'DO NOT TOUCH' might produce something interesting to give them a nasty bite.
Moreover, this department had very few staff: an office director position held concurrently by another department head, and two employees to ensure someone could work night shifts.
Amelia stood in the dim, chaotic Wand Permit Office, holding the case containing Bryan's two wands, her gaze falling on a colleague sleeping peacefully at his desk. Though it wasn't particularly late, the unfortunate soul assigned to this month's duty had already drifted into dreamland.
Hesitation flickered in Amelia's eyes as she wondered whether to wake her colleague. Nobody liked working in this cold, annoying department. Generally, only those who'd made mistakes got assigned here—work or get out, that's how it was.
Moods would be terrible, tempers too. Amelia figured if she were stuck in this department, she'd probably be the same way. But she couldn't stand here all night, she still had to visit the Security Department afterward.
After scanning the cramped space, Amelia spotted a cardboard box on a shelf that seemed stuffed with documents.
Pursing her lips, Amelia drew her wand from her pocket and pointed lightly at the shelf. The heavy shelving immediately began to shake slightly, then—
Bang!
With the heavy thud and spreading dust, the fellow who'd been sleeping with his feet up on the desk immediately opened his eyes and jumped up from his chair.
"What happened?" His bloodshot gray eyes were drowsy but darting everywhere. "Have those damned dangerous creatures escaped again?"
"Santiago?" Amelia's brown eyes flashed with apology as she spoke softly.
"Amelia, are you here to give me bad news? Tell me, what's missing—a poisonous horn beast or a chimera? Oh, please don't tell me the five-legged monsters are gone; my heart can't take that!"
The disheveled fellow with messy light golden hair spoke frantically, seeming confused from sleep and not yet realizing where he was.
This scene was rather amusing. Amelia's lips curved as she said to the panting Santiago, "Those things have nothing to do with you anymore, do they, Santiago?"
"Nothing to do with me?!" Santiago asked in surprise, then finally noticed where he was. The bloodshot quickly faded from his eyes. "Yes, nothing to do with me!"
Santiago called out cheerfully, vigorously rubbing his face with both hands, making huffing sounds. "Sorry, I was confused from sleep. Oh, you've reminded me—those troubles have left me behind. Honestly, thinking about it that way, coming here wasn't such a bad choice!"
Santiago shivered and became more alert. He noticed the fallen cardboard box and scattered documents, irritably drew his wand and waved it without bothering to investigate what happened. His gaze fell on Amelia, and he saw the wooden case she was holding.
"You're not off work yet? What's with the box? Did your office confiscate this from some foolish tourist as contraband? But you've got the wrong place—I handle wands here!"
"The box contains wands," Amelia looked down at the case in her arms, her tone slightly emphasized. "The Security Department won't allow Mr. Bryan Watson to carry wands after entering the country. They refused to issue him a wand permit, so I brought his wands here. Santiago, I need you to store Mr. Watson's wands properly and write me a receipt. I need to take the receipt to the Security Department."
"Oh, poor Bryan Watson—how did he provoke those Security Department bastards?" Santiago pursed his lips, taking the case Amelia handed him and carelessly tossing it on the desk (causing displeasure to flash in Amelia's eyes).
He then opened a drawer to write the receipt, but just as he picked up the parchment, his movements suddenly froze. He looked at Amelia with confusion and helplessness.
"Bryan Watson?" Santiago blinked hard. "Which Bryan Watson are you talking about?"
"Oh—" Amelia quickened her pace; she had many places to visit tonight. "The one who's, um, International Confederation of Wizards—"
Crash!
Amelia had barely started when Santiago jumped up, vigorously scratching his messy hair, his eyes now twice as wide as before.
"You mean that Bryan Watson! The Security Department wants to confiscate his wand? Oh, has Graves gone mad? Does he think his family's influence in Congress gives him absolute power? He wants to confiscate Bryan Watson's wand? Oh God, President Quahog... oh right, he's not here."
Santiago looked down, then gazed at the box with awe, but his look at Amelia was full of confusion.
"Bryan Watson visiting Congress—you understand, Amelia, this really isn't a small matter. Why hasn't it been reported in the papers at all? Does the Ghostly Gazette have nothing better to do than follow boring elections and those damned missing magical creatures?"
"Oh, I think—" Amelia finally found a chance to speak, glancing at the receipt Santiago had pulled out, hoping he'd take the hint. But Santiago just stared at her. "It's because Mr. Watson isn't visiting as Vice President of the International Confederation of Wizards or in any other official capacity. He came on personal business."
"What kind of business?" Santiago asked with keen interest.
"That wouldn't be appropriate, Santiago." Amelia spoke formally, rushing before Santiago could launch into another lengthy speech. "Sorry, Santiago, I'm in a hurry, so if you don't mind—the receipt?"
Disappointed in the long night with nothing to do, Santiago muttered under his breath. He picked up the wooden case intending to stuff it onto the shelf behind him, but midway through, he suddenly changed his mind and disappeared with the case into the passage created by the messy shelving, not reappearing for quite some time.
"Bryan Watson's wands would definitely be worth more on the black market than those magical creatures that might have already been poached and smuggled out. I need to be careful—if something goes wrong, I'll probably have to take Dylan's job."
Dylan was responsible for guarding the Congress entrance.
Seeing Amelia waiting anxiously, Santiago didn't delay further and hurried back to his seat to complete the item transfer receipt.
"You forgot to write the time—" Amelia, who had been watching closely, pointed out his oversight before he could hand her the receipt.
"Oh, sorry—" After adding the time to the signature, Santiago handed the receipt to Amelia. She carefully examined it, found no other issues, thanked him, and prepared to leave.
"Could you ask Mr. Watson for an autograph? My girlfriend absolutely loves his fire magic!"
Watching Amelia disappear before his eyes, Santiago shouted toward the departing passage.
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