0319 Small Troubles

0319 Small Troubles

Bryan's hand met the awestruck Mr. Cuffe's on the wooden table, shaking a few times before he said in a steady voice,

"Yes, I had to come, Mr. Cuffe. Madam Bones informed me that the Daily Prophet will publish an article accusing me tomorrow morning, is that right?"

"Oh, it's just that madwoman Rita Skeeter's nonsense ramblings!" Mr. Cuffe said excitedly, "Just ramblings, no one will believe it's something you've done. Oh, but indeed, it's a bit troublesome. Rita is quite famous, and according to the rules of our paper, I can't stop her article from being published, especially since some of the views in the article could indeed stir up controversy among the public.

She submitted the draft to me early this morning. Rita had hoped this report would be published in today's evening edition, but I delayed it under the pretext that the article needed proofreading, then immediately wrote a letter to Madam Bones. But I'm afraid that—unless there's a suitable reason, tomorrow morning—"

Amelia frowned.

"Barnabas, tomorrow's headline should be about the Ministry capturing the fugitive Sirius Black. You know, this matter has troubled Cornelius for a long time, and he's eager to inform the public of the Ministry's efforts to capture Sirius Black. This will only increase the Ministry's soaring popularity after Greyback and his pack's eradication and earn them more support from the people."

"I completely understand, Madam Bones—"

Mr. Cuffe's forehead was even sweatier than when he had pushed through the crowd, and he nodded vigorously in agreement.

As the politically charged editor-in-chief of The Daily Prophet, he knew that dragging Bryan Watson through the mud at this time was tantamount to dragging down the entire Ministry of Magic.

Although the Daily Prophet was also backed by pure-blood families, angering the Minister of Magic, who represented the interests of many, would not be wise.

"—But, but I, I can't, alone—Rita's articles always catch people's attention. If she doesn't give up—"

Amelia's frown deepened, and an aura of irresistible authority surrounded her. This presence spread, and in the serene atmosphere of the restaurant, the guests who were enjoying their conversations cast curious glances their way. They whispered among themselves, pointing towards the window, speculating whether the plainly dressed Amelia Bones was a high-ranking official in the Muggle government or perhaps a member of Parliament.

"Well then, Mr. Cuffe—"

Bryan's mild voice broke the tense atmosphere Amelia had created. Leaning back in his chair with a calm demeanor, as if Rita Skeeter's article wasn't causing him any trouble, he said: "May I have a look at Miss Skeeter's article first? Ah, of course, if that's not appropriate..."

"Oh, of course not!"

Whether it was the unruffled Madam Bones or the gentle Bryan Watson, both exerted tremendous pressure on Barnabas Cuffe.

"You are a Senior Advisor to the Ministry and a wizard with a seat in Wizengamot. Since this article involves you—"

Cuffe wiped his eyebrow as he rummaged through his briefcase, hastily thrusting a bunch of parchments towards Bryan.

"You have the right to review it!"

The bundle of parchment Mr. Cuffe handed over was filled with elaborate, swirling handwriting, and the headline was also quite attention-grabbing:

Bryan Watson - Hero Who Vanquished Werewolves or Vile Dark Wizard?

Quack, quack-- The resounding chimes of the distant church bell cleaving through the silence at the stroke of midnight startled a gathering of black crows perched upon the rusted crosses adorning the roof peaks. With a frantic flutter of wings, they took abrupt flight, disappearing like sinister specters into the fathomless depths of the night sky.

Thud, thud, thud-- The rhythmic footfalls seemed to echo the steady pace of the clouds scudding across the bright face of the full moon, alternately cloaking the world in luminous silver radiance and impenetrable shadow. As the clear illumination dimmed behind a bank of roiling vapor, the smothering darkness deepened its shroud over the village. Bryan's solitary figure came to a halt at the end of the narrow road, before a tidy little stone cottage nestled within a meticulously tended garden.

Appraising this unassuming abode with a considering gaze, a faint, cold smile crept across the corner of the Golden Viper's gloomy face, the expression shown by the swirling, sinister undulations of his potent magical aura.

Just hours before, Bryan had been in one of London's busiest commercial streets, having tea with the head of the Magical Law Enforcement and the editor-in-chief of the Daily Prophet. Now, after traversing nearly half the length of England, he found himself in this remote, obscure village tucked away in the pastoral countryside, all on account of a particular article penned by the notoriously scandalous journalist, Rita Skeeter.

With good intentions, Amelia offered to negotiate with Rita Skeeter herself to halt the publication of the article.

Such matters were routine for the Ministry of Magic. Whenever a report threatened the Ministry's authority, these high-ranking Ministry officials would leverage their influence and connections to prevent the article's publication. Otherwise, once public opinion arose, the situation would become uncontrollable.

Bryan trusted Amelia's ability to handle the situation, but he didn't pass the task along. Instead, he insisted on dealing with it himself.

Maintaining an air of mystery was the best way to command awe and respect. Although the two were now partners, Bryan needed to demonstrate his capabilities to Bones at appropriate times. Hence, he proposed to handle the matter himself.

However, judging by the guarded reactions and poorly concealed nervousness upon their features after knowing of his intentions, the two officials had no doubt suspected Bryan's true purpose in paying a late night visit to the infamous reporter was to eliminate her by more..... permanent means.

Of course, prior to this relatively insignificant article's development into a controversy demanding immediate resolution, arranging for Skeeter's quiet disappearance or negotiating her silence through more overtly unscrupulous methods would have been the conventional, prudent course of action. However, he disdained doing so, as Rita Skeeter did not carry that much weight.

His primary purpose for appearing here tonight was to prove to Bones that he possessed the ability to resolve these situations.

"Heh, just as expected of you--"

Bryan murmured the words, his voice a hushed rasp scarcely louder than the whisper of the wind through the foliage. He remained motionless beyond the wooden garden gate, sharp eyes roaming over every little detail of the meticulously trimmed shrubbery and the rustic, two-story stone cottage itself, each block neatly stacked into an immaculate, unified structure. After a moment of contemplation, his right hand, gripping his wand, emerged from beneath his black traveling cloak.

Swish-- With a skillful, nearly imperceptible flick of his wrist, a vibrant blue ribbon-like streak of vivid luminescence erupted from the wand's tip in a blinding flare. The swelling coil twisted and spiraled through the air, rapidly swelling in mass and volume until the glowing filament had taken the form of a truly massive blue serpent, its coiled lengths encircling the entire house in an unbroken loop as one end remained tied to the tip of Bryan's wand.

Boom!

In a thunderous detonation that reverberated through the air like the firing of a cannon, a ferocious windstorm erupted across the flat expanse of earth surrounding the house.

The previously beautiful scenery encompassing the stone cottage and its adjoining garden was utterly transformed in the blink of an eye, the entire area now starkly illuminated by the pale, ghostly radiance of an immense, intricately inscribed magical runes. Its pulsing, arcane symbology suffusing the very air with an ominous, inky black miasma that seemed to leech all warmth and cheer from the atmosphere. Faint, discordant howls, like the anguished cries of innumerable malignant spirits, assailed Bryan's ears in an incorporeal cacophony.

One after another, spectral figures resembling ghosts or Dementors emerged from the black aura, their gaping maws lined with serrated teeth, charging menacingly at the intruder.

Simultaneously, numerous miniature magical ward defenses materialized on the flower garden's ground, unleashing a torrent of precast defensive spells upon Bryan like a fierce storm!

"Heh heh, such a grand welcome, I'm utterly flattered--"

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