A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

Chapter 170: The Snowball of Time

The situation had truly escalated as per Eurya's plan.

Felix Harp emerged from the hotel, the flashes of magical cameras dazzlingly flickering, emitting wisps of purple smoke. The journalists from the French wizarding world were as excited as if they had ingested a dose of wild elixir, their cheeks and necks flushed abnormally.

Two black-robed wizards stood in the courtyard, an open space around them. People seemed to have conflicting feelings—wanting to get closer for a look yet harboring a sense of unease, resulting in a rather awkward positioning.

Their masks had been removed, revealing two young faces. One was the student leader Eurya, and the other was Berny's younger brother, Byrce.

"Byrce, you didn't have to come," Eurya whispered.

"I've already been seen anyway, what's there to fear? I just hope I can catch a glimpse of Berny before they lock us up," Byrce said nonchalantly.

"You might regret it."

"At least not yet. Why haven't they arrested us yet? The reporters have been snapping photos for quite a while now, to be honest, the flashes are making me dizzy."

Eurya spoke rationally, "The longer they delay, the better. See there? Celestia is dumbfounded."

Indeed, Celestia was dumbfounded. She was using a commanding tone to warn Moor, who was incessantly wiping his sweat, "Mr. Director, you can't let the reporters in like this; it involves diplomatic relations between two countries."

Moor let out a string of vague French words, "I can't control them, reporters have that right."

"At least take these two students away?"

"I can't decide, it involves the diplomacy of both nations," Moor retorted with the same phrase. "I've informed the Minister, I won't do anything until he arrives. Maybe you can take matters into your own hands."

Celestia certainly wouldn't be foolish enough to act on her own. Didn't she see that the reporters outside were about to explode with excitement? Was she trying to add fuel to the fire?

What would her reputation be like tomorrow?

Celestia felt once again that she was losing control. She walked over to Cecil's side and squeezed out a sentence through her clenched teeth, "What about our people?"

"Taken away by the members of the Reformist Society. When they came back, the attack had already ended. They're out trying their luck now, looking for the targets. No news yet," Cecil said.

"Summon those fools back! What's the point of going after them now? They've practically delivered themselves to us." Celestia said in frustration, feeling like her chair in the Woolworths Building office had grown legs, and her hat had sprouted wings—everything seemed to be slipping away from her.

"Sorry, I can't get in touch," Cecil shrugged.

"Quick, look outside! More people are coming!" a short journalist exclaimed.

"The Minister?" asked a journalist next to him.

"...It's more members of the Black Robes Army!" The short journalist had eagerly attached new names to Eurya and his companions, ready for tomorrow's front-page headline.

No, it's tonight's headline!

Dozens of journalists rushed out carrying their black cameras. Amid their excited expressions, dozens of black-robed wizards appeared at the Brassares Hotel. They wore masks on their faces, walked in silence, their footsteps perfectly synchronized, a display that drew the reporters' attention.

Maxwell inquired, "Director, what should we do?"

Moor looked up at the sky, engrossed in studying the shape of a cloud, as if it held some great revelation. Thus, under the gaze of the French Ministry of Magic staff, the students of Ifa Mooney walked into the courtyard without any hindrance.

Eurya and Byrce stared blankly at their audacious companions until they stood before them, still not having fully recovered.

"Why did you come? Weren't you supposed to leave? Just write a letter..."

"Hey, Eurya, we've completed the mission already, but before we left, we calculated and felt that we shouldn't miss this commotion." A passionate voice spoke up.

"Matteo..." Eurya whispered.

"It's me." The speaking wizard removed his mask, revealing a bright smile.

"And me, Eurya." A witch with a ponytail removed her mask and winked at him.

"Ha-ha, we can't just leave like that." A hearty wizard laughed as he took off his mask.

"That's right, he's right. I'm not content to leave like this either."

"Coincidentally, I feel the same way."

...

One by one, the black-robed wizards removed their masks. They were of different genders, heights, sizes, but all radiated youthful energy.

Seeing this scene, Celestia was utterly dumbfounded, her lips moving silently, her expression stunned.

It wasn't just her; Moor, Cecil, Maxwell, Bubaji, the reporters, and the Muggle researchers—all present were captivated by this sight.

After a brief pause, the hotel's courtyard erupted into a frenzy. The shutters of magical cameras clicked in unison, creating a cacophony that buzzed like bees.

Overhead in Paris, owls glided across the sky.

Faced with this situation, a mere Director of Law Enforcement was utterly powerless.

The French Minister of Magic was the first to arrive, but even he found it perplexing. Hesitating between arresting or not, at that moment, figures started to appear through Apparition.

"Americans!"

The French Minister of Magic exclaimed in surprise.

A woman strode forward, "Greetings, Minister. I'm here on behalf of the President. He'll be a little late due to appeasing our Congress, as you know..."

"Have you received the news?"

The woman said helplessly, "That's one of the matters we need to discuss. My, my, they do possess quite some connections."

"We're the first batch—using reserve Portkeys and Apparition. There might be more wizards closely watching this situation coming after..."

Her words were somewhat conservative; it was definitely not just "some" enthusiastic people.

A few hours later, people who had received the news had filled up half of the valley.

The French Minister of Magic urgently dispatched a third of his staff to take over security around the hotel.

Vacations were canceled, slacking off was prohibited, and overtime was mandated. All kinds of concealment and protective spells were cast, causing the Brassares Hotel to temporarily vanish from the eyes of ordinary people.

Felix Harp stood silently in a corner, observing. He didn't know how this would ultimately unfold. But that girl named Berny, and these young leaders, were likely to be recorded in history.

Even though he was merely an outsider, he couldn't help but anticipate the course of events, especially after witnessing how these students made their decision.

Prominent figures continued to arrive.

The President of the American Wizarding Congress, the Headmistress of Ifa Mooney School, a member of the International Confederation of Wizards, and a familiar figure—Albus Dumbledore, who was the President of the International Confederation of Wizards.

"Dumbledore, you've come too." The President of the American Wizarding Congress, Marcus, walked up briskly.

"Marcus, I had to come. The commotion has reached my not-so-sharp ears, so you can imagine the extent of its impact."

"No one anticipated... the senators are furious, they want to severely punish these students."

"What should we do? Lock them up in prison?" Dumbledore's expression was very serious, his silver-white beard trembled slightly, "Forgive me for speaking bluntly, Marcus, but any action you take now will influence the future of the next few years, or even decades. Eventually, it will directly reflect back onto you; no one will escape."

"Yes, I just got updated on the situation. They did commit a crime, but it's not particularly grave. The most critical issue is—the significant impact. If not handled well, by next Monday at the latest, these people outside will storm Woolworths Building and overturn the entire Wizarding Congress!"

"Look, Dumbledore, there are nearly a thousand people outside."

Felix didn't pay much attention; he walked out of the hotel, looking at the crowd that was still converging, with over half being visitors from the United States.

With these enthusiastic individuals here, the hotel wouldn't come to a conclusion unless the big shots emerged.

A French staff member in charge of maintaining order grumbled, "In fact, they could all be considered illegal immigrants... it's just that given the current situation, no one's bothering."

"But I hope they get fined heavily afterward, those bunch of Americans!"

...

Felix stood on a small hill, gazing from a distance at the hotel. From this angle, the surging crowd had a peculiar sense of detachment, which inclined his thoughts toward rationality.

Ministry of Magic... ordinary wizards... students...

Eurya's actions had given him a completely new understanding of the organizational structure of the wizarding world.

Someone beside him struck up a conversation, "Never thought I'd live to see such a scene."

Felix had already noticed someone approaching. He turned around and saw an elderly man shakily making his way over. His face was very pale, as if it had been coated with a layer of white paint. It was hard to say whether his hair was whiter or his complexion.

Felix hurried over and grabbed his arm.

"Ouch." The old man let out a painful cry.

"Um, I apologize?" Felix looked at him puzzled.

"It's alright, I'm getting old, and my bones are a bit brittle."

Felix gave him a strange look, wondering if he should suggest he take some calcium tablets.

Speaking of which, do wizards benefit from taking calcium tablets?

This scene is almost concluded; its main purpose was to expand the world-building and won't involve politics in the future. Back to school tomorrow.

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