“Your parents invited me to dinner at your home?”

In the presidential suite of his Manhattan hotel, Bryan slowly placed the crystal wine glass in his hand onto the white marble bar counter decorated with swirling patterns. His eyebrow arched in a subtle expression of mild curiosity, though his eyes hid a deeper contemplation.

Of course, he wouldn’t be surprised that the Depp couple wanted to invite him to their home for dinner. After recognizing his identity, it would have been strange if this elderly couple had shown no reaction at all. However, on the surface, he needed to display a certain degree of confusion for it to seem reasonable.

“Oh, of course—”

Finding this matter quite abrupt and feeling the weight of her parents’ expectations pressing upon her shoulders, Amelia’s cheeks flushed a rose color that spread from her cheeks down to her neck.

She could barely maintain her usual professionally trained expressionless demeanor. Her fingers unconsciously twisted the hem of her light green sweater as she hurriedly looked toward Remus, who had lifted his head from his mountain of paperwork to observe their conversation.

“And Remus too,” Amelia added quickly, her voice carrying a breathless tone as she gestured toward Remus.

She looked toward Remus with nervousness, “My father really enjoyed those curious tales you shared with him about the British Wizarding world. He was absolutely fascinated, so he invited you as well.”

“Oh, thank you—”

Remus snapped out of his contemplative daze, setting down his quill. He glanced alternately between Bryan, whose expression had shifted into a look of thinking, and Amelia, who was desperately trying to hide her shy emotions.

Unconsciously pressing his lips together, Remus felt a familiar spasm of social awareness.

If Remus couldn’t tell which of the two—himself and Bryan, the Depp couple genuinely wanted to invite, and who was merely a polite afterthought to avoid seeming rude, then he felt his thirty-odd years of life had been lived in vain.

“Oh, thank you for the gracious invitation—”

Out of respect for both Amelia’s obvious awkwardness and her parents’ well-intentioned hospitality, Remus carefully set aside the designs he’d been reviewing and stood up from his chair.

He gave a respectful bow, but his expression grew apologetic as he continued:

“But I’m very sorry, Amelia. I’m afraid I—”

Remus’s mind raced through various tactful excuses, then he reached for the scattered materials covering the desk’s surface and held them up toward Amelia like evidence in his defense. The papers rustled softly, filled with detailed diagrams of equipment, market analysis charts, and calculated production timelines.

“You see, I simply can’t get away right now. As the workshop manager, I must present detailed explanations of our workshop’s products and our complete production and business model to the review committee members at tomorrow’s Joint Review Board meeting.”

He gestured to the overwhelming collection of documents that had spent his attention for days,

“You have no idea how much technical material I need to memorize—safety regulations for international transport, quality control standards that differ between British and American markets.

Even after the review ends, depending on the results, I’ll need to immediately prepare supplementary documentation, or perhaps return to Britain right away to notify the workshop to increase production capacity to meet American demand. I simply don’t have the luxury of time.”

It was just a dinner invitation, yet Remus spoke with the gravity and detailed explanation one might use when declining an invitation to a month-long expedition to the Amazon rainforest.

Amelia’s face grew even red. She knew that Remus obviously didn’t want to “interfere” with what he perceived as a potentially romantic arrangement, which was precisely why he was constructing such long excuses to gracefully decline the invitation. His tactful withdrawal was both appreciated and embarrassing.

A hint of resentment unconsciously welled up in Amelia’s heart, though it was directed more at the situation than at any person.

Having the opportunity to interact closely with a wizard of Bryan Watson’s caliber, to ask him questions about advanced magic and spellwork and learn from his vast experience, was already more than extremely satisfying for Amelia from a professional standpoint.

As for the possibility of becoming personal friends with Bryan Watson… or developing any kind of more intimate relationship, that wasn’t even within her sensible consideration.

Such thoughts seemed as distant and unlikely as becoming friends with Merlin himself.

Her parents’ invitation would not only make Mr. Watson feel awkward and potentially compromise their professional relationship, but even she herself found the timing quite abrupt and embarrassing. However, she couldn’t refuse their request, couldn’t disappoint them when they had asked so little of her throughout her life.

In her memories, her stern but loving father and devoted mother had never so solemnly and earnestly asked her to do anything for them.

Meanwhile, Bryan remained thoughtfully silent, his eyes reflecting the warm light as he gazed out at the city outside, still not giving any reply to the hanging invitation.

It was just a dinner, which really wasn’t that big of a deal, but Bryan was somewhat concerned about how to handle it if the Depp couple laid everything on the table and wanted to acknowledge their relationship. Not to mention he had no such intention—even if he did, Bryan wouldn’t choose such a sensitive moment.

If Voldemort learned that he suddenly had several personal weak points, it would be impossible for him not to take action.

Knock, knock, knock—

The sudden, crisp knocking at the suite’s door resolved the uncomfortable tension hanging between Bryan and Amelia like a well-timed intervention from fate. Through the door’s surface, Bryan’s magical senses could perceive the visitor clearly.

“I’m very sorry to disturb your rest at this late hour. May I ask if you are Mr. Bryan Watson?”

Bryan walked across the suite and opened the door with a smooth motion. A Muggle hotel attendant dressed in a black tailcoat stood in the hallway, bowing respectfully.

His posture was professionally respectful, careful not to presume to glance past Bryan into the private space of the suite, his eyes were fixed politely on the door frame.

“That’s correct—”

After receiving the confirmation he needed, the attendant brought his gloved right hand from behind his back and extended a d envelope toward Bryan.

“A gentleman came to the hotel’s front desk earlier this evening and personally delivered this letter. He specifically requested that we ensure it reaches Mr. Bryan Watson personally, with no possibility of misdirection. This is that letter—”

With just a single glance at the letter’s exterior, noting the absence of magical seals, the Muggle-style paper, and the lack of any wizarding postal markings, Bryan’s expression shifted subtly. He looked up at the attendant and asked in a gentle tone.

“Did the gentleman who delivered this letter provide his name or any identification?”

“He did not, sir—”

The attendant bowed slightly deeper, a gesture of apology for the incomplete information, and continued,

“He only instructed us that if you were to inquire about his identity, we should inform you that the letter contains information that would be of significant interest to you. Those were his exact words, sir.”

Muggles had no room for deception or concealment when faced with a wizard of Bryan’s abilities. Even without using Legilimency directly, he could sense the man’s complete honesty.

Bryan nodded with satisfaction, offered his thanks with genuine politeness, accepted the letter, and closed the door with a soft click.

“What’s the situation?”

Remus immediately abandoned his paperwork and quickly crossed the room to Bryan’s side, his instincts were alerted to potential danger. He had overheard the entire conversation between Bryan and the hotel attendant through the door, and every detail about this struck him as particularly odd and potentially concerning.

Normally, letters between wizards was delivered by owl post. But the sender of this particular letter had deliberately chosen to use a Muggle attendant for delivery. While the mysterious sender hadn’t left a name or any identifying information, he had left behind a cryptic message.

Everything about this situation seemed calculated to avoid normal magical channels, which raised immediate red flags about the sender’s motives and circumstances.

Looking at the letter in Bryan’s hands, noticing how it had no sender information, no magical postal stamps, and none of the usual enchantments that protected wizarding letters, Remus frowned with growing concern and said quietly.

“Be careful, Bryan. This might be a trap.”

Bryan nodded but remained thoughtfully silent. He turned the envelope over several times in his hands, his sensitive fingers detecting the slight texture of expensive Muggle paper, then began to prepare to open it.

“Perhaps I should open it instead, Bryan?”

Just as Bryan was about to break the envelope’s wax seal, Amelia quickly moved closer to them, temporarily setting aside her personal embarrassment about the dinner invitation and said with a solemn expression.

“Since the Ministry has temporarily confiscated your wand, they bear full responsibility for your personal safety while you’re under their jurisdiction, Bryan. I think Remus has a valid concern—there might be some kind of magical trap, cursed object, or even a Portkey concealed within that envelope.”

Remus looked at Amelia with genuine surprise and a newfound respect. Although this young lady wasn’t on their side, he had to admit that her rigorous and responsible approach to handling matters was quite admirable.

“Oh, thank you for your concern, Amelia—”

Bryan smiled gently at her while opening the letter and said.

“But I assure you, I’m not so magically helpless without my wand that I can’t detect whether something contains Dark Magic, curses, or any other form of harmful enchantment. My magical senses remain quite intact.”

Bryan pulled out a white sheet of paper with writing on it from the envelope and shook it in front of the two vigilant people.

“Look—it’s simply an ordinary letter.”

Seeing that it was indeed just an ordinary piece of paper, Amelia quietly sighed in relief, but the more experienced Remus didn’t let his guard down because of this. He noticed something unusual—as Bryan said, this was just a letter, but the paper used was the type commonly used in the Muggle world. You should know that wizards generally used parchment for letters and various documents and correspondence.

Could it be that a Muggle had written a letter to Bryan? But then the question arose: did Bryan have Muggle acquaintances in New York? And how did they know they were staying here?

Remus looked at Bryan, hoping for an explanation.

As Bryan quickly scanned the text on the paper, fine lines appeared between his brows. This diminished his usual gentle and refined demeanor, and a sense of authority emanated from within, compelling Amelia and Remus to fall silent.

“Heh—”

But suddenly and unexpectedly, Bryan’s expression lightened completely.

He smiled with pursed lips in what appeared to be genuine amusement, his authoritative presence evaporating as quickly as it had showed. Without explanation, he handed the mysterious letter to Remus, who accepted it with curiosity and began reading with the same intense focus Bryan had shown.

After scanning the contents, Remus’s expression also shifted to one of surprise and amazement, leaving him momentarily speechless as he processed what he’d just read.

Unable to contain her curiosity any longer, Amelia couldn’t help but steal a glance at the letter now resting in Remus’s hands. Upon reading the key phrases, she suddenly exclaimed with a mixture of confusion and concern:

“Information about criminals who committed the crime of illegally poaching Class XXXXX magical creatures… But I don’t understand why the person who wrote this letter would approach you. They should report such information to the Department of Magical Security, shouldn’t they?”

“Or instead, they should contact Mr. Newt Scamander—”

Thoughts flashed rapidly through Remus’s mind as he considered the various possibilities. He raised his eyebrows in an expression of growing understanding and looked at Bryan with a knowing expression, saying thoughtfully,

“The New York Ghost has already publicly reported his specific purpose for coming to New York in several articles. If someone has crucial information about these crimes and wanted to help with the investigation…”

“Perhaps,” Bryan interrupted gently, “the person who wrote this letter to me is facing some difficulty or dangerous circumstance that makes it extremely inconvenient or risky for them to show their face at the Department of Magical Security. They might be afraid of retaliation, or possibly have their own concerns.”

He paused thoughtfully before continuing, “As for Newt, he’s currently stationed at the magical creature nature reserve, which also maintains a large presence of MACUSA Aurors and security personnel at all times. For someone seeking to remain anonymous or avoid official attention, that location would be equally problematic.”

Bryan looked again at the specific location mentioned in the letter—a small Muggle coffee shop. The timing was set for 8 PM two days later, scheduled after the conclusion of the Joint Review Board meeting.

The letter sender not only knew where Bryan was staying but also knew his schedule.

However, finding out this information wasn’t particularly difficult.

Glancing at Amelia, who seemed to want to say something but hesitated, Remus knew that this young lady, who was even less capable than Tonks and wasn’t even a proper Auror trainee, definitely wanted to report this matter to the Department of Magical Security. This was normal—it was her duty. But Bryan certainly had his own plans.

“You’re planning to meet this mysterious person?”

Remus asked, though his tone was quite certain.

“How should I put this?”

Bryan smiled with a mixture of anticipation and resignation.

“When I first landed in New York and saw those initial newspaper reports about the magical creatures being poached, I had a premonition that this matter would eventually fall on my shoulders.” Thɪs chapter is updated by novel•fire.net

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