Glancing sideways at Amelia, who was forcibly suppressing her laughter with both hands pressed against her mouth, her shoulders shaking, Bryan’s previously cold and intimidating expression gradually softened like ice melting under sunshine.

As his demeanor changed, becoming approachable once more, the oppressive atmosphere that had covered the Leaky Cauldron melted away like thawing of ice after a long winter, allowing the natural sounds and energy of the pub to flow freely once more.

Conversations resumed in hushed whispers.

“Mr. Watson! Mr. Watson, sir!”

Tom was the first to fully recover his senses from the shock of witnessing Bryan’s silent display of power.

He almost sprinted away from behind the bar counter and rushed in front of Bryan, nearly tripping over a chair in his rush. He bent his already severely hunched back even lower in an exaggerated show of respect, almost bowing double.

His watery eyes were absolutely full of genuine admiration and something approaching worship, and a delighted smile spread across Tom’s face.

“Oh, it’s such an extraordinary honor to see you in person, Mr. Watson! Recently, quite a few customers in the pub have been discussing and speculating whether you’d return to Britain anytime soon, given all the news from America.

I never imagined you’d appear so suddenly today! What a privilege for my humble little shop!”

“Hello there, Tom—”

The same Bryan who few moments ago had quelled an imminent violent brawl with just a cold gaze and indifferent expression, without uttering a single word, suddenly transformed wholly.

His entire demeanor shifted like a mask being removed. His smile became warm and modest, without any superiority or condescension, and with real curiosity in his tone, Bryan asked with interest,

“People have been discussing whether I’d return to Britain, Tom? That’s quite flattering. Why is that exactly?”

“Oh!”

Tom’s expression immediately turned to one of indignant outrage.

“The Daily Prophet reported on your remarkable feats in New York about stopping vampires, saving countless lives, the whole affair!

So, rumors started spreading wildly that because you’d helped the American Ministry of Magic so greatly, solved such a catastrophic crisis, those Americans were so thoroughly impressed and grateful they were planning to invite you to become the Head of the Auror Office at the American Ministry of Magic!

Complete and utter nonsense, I told everyone who would listen! Mr. Watson is already the Vice-Chairman of the International Confederation of Wizards!

He wouldn’t even consider, wouldn’t waste his time with the mere position of Head of the Auror Office at a single nation’s Ministry. Unless those Americans were prepared to make you their Minister of Magic outright! And even then, knowing your character…”

To be fair, Bryan and Tom could only be considered casual acquaintances at best, having interacted perhaps a dozen times over the years. Yet each time they’d met during these past few years, Tom’s bow had grown more and more deeper.

“That is indeed nothing more than a rumor, I’m afraid, baseless speculation.”

Bryan raised his voice slightly, ensuring everyone who was eavesdropping throughout the pub, could hear him clearly. He chuckled lightly.

“Because compared to becoming a politician, dealing with bureaucracy and public opinion, I personally much prefer being a researcher and professor. The pursuit of knowledge and teaching young minds, that’s where my passion truly lies.”

“Of course! Naturally!”

Tom gazed at Bryan with undisguised admiration, his eyes were almost shining.

“Everyone knows you’re a man of learning and wisdom, not political ambition! Well then, Mr. Watson, would I have the great honor of buying you a drink? Perhaps some of our finest Firewhisky?

You just helped the pub resolve what could have been a major, violent problem! I should express my profound gratitude somehow!”

“I genuinely appreciate your kind offer, Tom, but I’m afraid I must decline.”

Bryan replied with an apologetic smile, his tone sounding regretful. “I have important business to attend to shortly in Diagon Alley. Best not to make myself dizzy and disoriented with alcohol—”

Bryan paused mid-sentence. Then, a thoughtful gleam flashed in his purple eyes as he gestured meaningfully toward the spots where the two confronting groups had been sitting earlier.

“Recently… has this sort of thing been happening often, Tom?”

At this direct mention of the problems plaguing his bar, Tom clearly had a bellyful of grievances to air, frustrations that was built up over weeks and months. But in Bryan’s presence, despite the warm smile, he dared not appear too unrefined or complaining. He simply said with a bitter, troubled expression, in a low voice,

“I wouldn’t say it’s very frequent exactly, perhaps once every two or three days on average? Sometimes more, sometimes we have a peaceful week. But it’s definitely increasing, Mr. Watson. The atmosphere has changed.”

“And the Ministry?”

Bryan’s friendly smile faded completely, his expression becoming more serious and concerned as he asked calmly, “Haven’t you sought help from the Ministry of Magic? These matters clearly fall under the Department of Magical Law Enforcement’s jurisdiction. I’m certain Amelia wouldn’t stand idly by and ignore such incidents.”

“Ms. Bones is certainly worthy of respect but unfortunately…”

Tom sighed deeply and mournfully in distress.

“Last month, there was a brutal home invasion and robbery in Godric’s Hollow—you know the village, peaceful place usually. The perpetrators not only took all the homeowners’ possessions, stripping the house bare, but they brutally murdered the entire family.

Used Unforgivables, from what I heard whispered.

Half a month ago, in St. Catchpole village, a Muggle family also had intruders break into their home in the dead of night. They used the Cruciatus Curse repeatedly on those poor, defenseless Muggles—”

Tom shuddered violently at the memory of hearing about it, his face paling. “Yet they took absolutely nothing. No robbery, just torture for entertainment. Pure cruelty.

Something even stranger happened in Upper Flagley, really bizarre. In the middle of the night, seven or eight Muggle households suddenly woke up freezing, only to discover in terror that their houses had completely vanished! Leaving only themselves shivering and the beds beneath them sitting in empty lots…”

Tom continued with rising worry, his voice dropping to whisper,

“There are many, many more incidents like these throughout the country, Mr. Watson. You might not have heard about them because the Daily Prophet hasn’t mentioned a single word—not one article!

The Ministry is deliberately covering it all up. Oh, they’ve sent people to investigate these incidents, Aurors are working overtime, but these cases are keeping them more than busy, and completely overwhelmed. They simply have no time, no resources to deal with the smaller conflicts happening here in my pub. I’m on low priority.”

Amelia listened intently to old Tom’s rambling complaints, her expression grew increasingly grave with each word about the incidents.

Albus Dumbledore had emphasized multiple times in various public occasions that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had returned to power. Bryan had also consistently said warnings that the dark clouds of war would soon shroud the British wizarding world.

Amelia certainly believed them both. But it wasn’t until she witnessed with her own eyes those less-than-reputable wizards daring to conduct blatantly illegal transactions in a public place like this, and heard about these escalating incidents from Tom’s frightened voice, that she truly felt it viscerally—the British wizarding world was indeed facing serious problems.

The war was already beginning in small ways.

Bryan wasn’t particularly surprised by any of Tom’s words. He’d expected this pattern of escalation. After hearing Tom’s list of complaints and frightening incidents, he nodded slightly in acknowledgment, contemplated briefly with a furrowed brow, then deliberately raised his voice so it would resound throughout the now-quiet pub:

“I understand the situation, Tom. The Leaky Cauldron occupies a crucial location—it’s the gateway between worlds, the threshold every witch and wizard crosses.

Order here must be maintained at all costs for everyone’s safety. If anything like today’s incident happens again Tom, you can send an owl directly to Hogwarts to me personally. I’ll make time to drop by for a drink regularly, check on things…”

When Tom saw Bryan and Amelia to the back door that led to Diagon Alley, the old man was nearly moved to tears of gratitude. He looked almost ready to kneel in the traditional show of thanks, and only restrained himself with effort.

When the zigzagging, seemingly endless cobblestone street of Diagon Alley appeared before Amelia’s eager eyes, the young witch who had been seriously contemplating the recent disturbing events immediately widened her eyes in wonder and delight.

All dark thoughts fled.

“Welcome to Diagon Alley, Amelia.”

Watching Amelia’s expression transform from concern to pure wonder, a genuine smile touched Bryan’s lips. For a brief moment, he recalled with nostalgic fondness the shock he’d felt years ago when he first entered Diagon Alley with Severus as his reluctant guide

Dazzling summer sunlight bathed Diagon Alley in golden warmth, making the white marble of Gringotts gleam intensely.

Wizards bustled everywhere along the street—witches in colorful robes, wizards in pointed hats, children darting between adults. Behind the gleaming shop windows that sparkled in the light, shelves absolutely packed with dazzling merchandise of every description left Amelia completely overwhelmed!

“Incredible! This is absolutely incredible!”

Amelia’s eyes reluctantly tore themselves away from the shelves of brand-new books visible in Flourish and Blotts’ windows, only to be immediately captivated by the peculiar and bizarre ingredients displayed in the adjacent potion supplies shop. Jars of pickled things, dried creatures, glowing substances.

“I read about Diagon Alley in books and journals, seen photographs in magazines, but I never imagined it would be this prosperous and vibrant in person! The energy, the variety! Oh, New York has never had anything quite like this in one place!”

“Heh heh—”

Like someone patiently guiding a newly initiated young witch into the magical world, showing them wonders for the first time, Bryan smiled indulgently and said with a touch of pride:

“The American wizarding world is indeed a vibrant and innovative magical civilization. But its existence as an organized society has been relatively brief compared to Europe. It can’t be comprehensive in every aspect, hasn’t had time to develop the same depth.

Diagon Alley, on the other hand, has existed for over six hundred years. It’s a place no witch or wizard living in Britain can avoid if they want to function in our society. You can resolve practically all your needs here.”

Amelia nodded vigorously, her hair bouncing with the enthusiasm of her agreement. Her eyes continued darting from shop to shop, trying to take in everything at once.

“So, what do we do next? Where do we start?”

“Oh, I plan to visit Gringotts first and then afterward I can accompany you around to purchase some daily necessities and help you get oriented,” Bryan said, already turning toward the white building.

“Gringotts? The bank?”

Amelia looked momentarily confused, her brow furrowing slightly. Misunderstanding Bryan’s intention completely, a blush rose to her cheeks, spreading from her neck to up.

“Oh, I don’t need that kind of help, Bryan—you really don’t need to spend your money on me! I’m perfectly capable of supporting myself. Before I left New York, I already withdrew all the salary MACUSA had paid me over my time there.

That’s more than enough for me to live modestly in London for quite a while… Besides, since you want me to help Remus at the workshop first, I imagine he’ll certainly pay me a fair salary for my work.”

“Oh, of course. I’m sure you can take care of yourself financially wherever you are.”

Bryan said warmly. He turned toward the tallest, most imposing white building of Diagon Alley: Gringotts.

“But I’m not going to Gringotts to withdraw money for you or anyone else. I carry all my personal wealth with me wherever I go. It’s very convenient for travel.”

“Then what are you going there for?”

“While in New York, I came across something by chance during the investigation,” Bryan said. “I believe this particular item might prove quite useful at Gringotts. Of course, this is merely my speculation—perhaps I’ve gotten the direction totally wrong ……..”

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