Chapter 174: Kingsley’s Choice
“Ha, such a clever little thing.”
Ajinbad certainly wouldn’t fear a mere fire dragon.
For a wizard like him, among the magical creatures that exist today, perhaps only the phoenix would be of slight concern, and only because the phoenix is so special.
Stroking the tree bee’s head to soothe its emotions, Vaughn replied, “It’s precisely because it’s smart that I kept it, to be a companion for the other dragon at home.”
Keeping a fire dragon privately was undoubtedly illegal, and moreover, it was a law of the International Confederation.
However, Ajinbad seemed not to have heard, just as he had just witnessed Vaughn “torture” and “abuse” several werewolves, dismantling them into countless pieces and reassembling them.
The scene and the horrifying screams were enough to make anyone’s scalp tingle.
Ajinbad, however, remained calm – they were all wizards, who didn’t have a few quirks?
He didn’t specifically ask Vaughn what he was researching the fire dragon for. After a casual remark, he got to the point: “Can those people be trusted? They have business channels here, and are currently the most suitable individuals to investigate the flow of magical creature trade without raising suspicion. Since we’re letting them investigate, some secrets will inevitably have to be revealed to them. I don’t want all our efforts to go to waste.”
“The topic of trust is a bit heavy.”
Vaughn smiled. “But for now, their families dare not offend me, and these dependent families, you understand, have almost no freedom.”
Ajinbad nodded:
“I will carefully consider what to tell them. Also, we are still short-handed. To avoid detection by the Ministry of Magic, the Confederation cannot send more people over for now.”
Vaughn glanced at him. “What are you trying to say?”
Ajinbad chuckled. “Werewolves! We hyped up WAC for so long, and after arriving in Boston, I high-profilely brought your people to the media conference. I think many werewolves in North America must have seen the news and are rushing this way!”
“The first wave to arrive will likely have wizarding identities. I think we can make use of them.”
Ajinbad revealed his objective.
Vaughn twitched the corner of his mouth. “Aren’t you afraid some of them might be spies sent by the Ministry of Magic?”
“The Ministry of Magic doesn’t have Wolfsbane Potion. Only a fool would listen to them,” Ajinbad said dismissively. “Besides, the full moon is almost here. Any werewolf who can rush here before the full moon for Wolfsbane Potion surely has enough reason to want to maintain their sanity. The possibility of such a person being a spy is extremely low.”
The basis for Ajinbad’s judgment was, of course, not abstract concepts like human nature’s good and evil.
It was based on supply and demand.
The more urgent their need, the less bargaining power they would have. To obtain Wolfsbane Potion, their tolerance for the conditions attached to taking the medicine would likely be astonishingly high.
According to Ajinbad, WAC had a so-called “registered werewolf” magical contract. Werewolves who signed the contract not only had to agree to its terms but also had to provide their name, blood, and hair as mediums.
In England, all werewolves who joined WAC had signed this contract.
Although Yankees, compared to the English, always talk about freedom, the first wave of werewolves to arrive would mostly not be among them.
Correspondingly, any troublemakers who loudly proclaimed freedom would likely be problematic.
Therefore, the truly problematic ones would not be in a hurry to come.
Vaughn beckoned, and a pot of steaming hot tea floated over. He poured a cup for himself and Ajinbad. Inhaling the fresh tea aroma, he said:
“WAC’s magical contract is not as binding as you might think. The terms are not harsh, but… if they are only involved in some peripheral investigations, it wouldn’t be a big problem.”
“Hmm? I thought you would firmly tie the werewolves to your chariot.”
Vaughn stirred the tea and scoffed. “I promised to let werewolves walk in the sun, so I won’t exploit them. Besides, true binding is not a piece of paper, nor is it oppression of will, but shared interests.”
“…”
Ajinbad looked at him deeply and said nothing more.
Only the vigilance and attention he felt towards Vaughn increased by another notch in his heart.
He had many things to do. After chatting with Vaughn for a while and finishing his tea, he left.
Watching Ajinbad leave, Vaughn sat under a large oak tree, leisurely drinking more tea, then softly said, “Come in!”
The magic carried his voice outward.
Soon, Kingsley, dressed in robes of African style, silently descended the nearby stairs and walked to his side.
A chair floated in front of him, and Vaughn raised his hand. “Sit.”
“…Thank you!”
Kingsley paused, thanked him softly, and sat down.
Vaughn poured him a cup of tea and handed it to him. “My dear Kingsley, have you made up your mind?”
“…” Taking the steaming teacup, Kingsley’s breathing became a little heavier upon hearing Vaughn’s question, but it quickly evened out.
A wry smile appeared on his dark face. “Do I have a choice?”
“You could still choose Fudge,” Vaughn said, leaning back in his chair with a relaxed smile. “Don’t forget, the pressure you’re under now, the investigation your family is facing, it’s all Fudge’s doing. He’s the one forcing you to declare your stance, not me!”
Is there any difference? You use Fudge to pressure me, isn’t that also coercion?
Kingsley wanted to retort, but he lacked the courage.
Because he had already made his choice, and being adept at human relationships, he knew very well that once a decision was made, all grievances must be discarded.
Otherwise, a moment of sharp words today would only harm himself and his family in the future.
Vaughn Weasley might not be so petty, but he couldn’t take the risk. Most importantly, Vaughn might not care, but what if others found out he carried resentment? Who knew what they would think?
Having worked in the Ministry of Magic for nearly 20 years, Kingsley knew too well what infighting was, and even more so, how low people’s standards could go for power and profit.
He lowered his head and said meekly, “Fudge is not worthy of comparison to you. If I chose him, it would only mean my brain is worse than a troll’s.”
“No resentment?”
“None.”
Kingsley said firmly, “I believe that only under your leadership is there a future. Whether it’s Fudge or those pure-bloods, they are merely stepping stones for you.”
Yes, he had surrendered to Vaughn.
Even as stated before, all along, it wasn’t Vaughn who was pressuring him!
Kingsley did not have high hopes for the pure-bloods.
Because he himself was one of them, he knew very well that those families, lost in past glory and honor, who only shouted “forever pure,” stood no chance against Vaughn.
Unless they pulled that dead Voldemort out of the mud pit right now and hit Vaughn with a Killing Curse.
Otherwise, they would only become puppets in Vaughn’s hands, manipulated and toyed with without their knowledge!
Just as the concepts of “Progressives” and “Conservatives” were born in the storm of public opinion!
Those pure-blood families hadn’t even woken up yet, thinking it was some mudbloods and some wizarding families trying to challenge their status who were causing trouble.
They completely failed to realize the gravity of the situation.
Following that group had no future.
Kingsley even vaguely felt that the pure-bloods should thank Dumbledore. He could perceive that Vaughn’s nature was not that of a schemer who liked to manipulate things from behind the scenes.
Vaughn’s low profile and “restraint” were due to his reservations!
In the entire English wizarding world, who else was worthy of Vaughn’s reservations?
After a moment of wild thoughts, Kingsley suddenly realized that since he had answered “no resentment,” Vaughn had not spoken again.
He suddenly felt a little uneasy.
He was uneasy that the other party believed him too easily, and also afraid that the other party wouldn’t believe him…
Before he could figure it out, he heard Vaughn speak again, saying, “Regarding your and your family’s experiences, I will now give you two choices. First, temporarily endure it. After Fudge is dealt with, the investigations and pressure against you will naturally be lifted. I will compensate you for all losses incurred during this period.”
“Second, abandon your current assets, especially the magical item manufacturing workshops that Fudge can influence, and transfer to areas I am skilled in. I will authorize your family to sell my potion products, and in the future, I will also entrust a portion of the production quota for the international trade of Wolfsbane Potion to your family. However, there will be no compensation. Consider it.”
What was there to consider?
Any fool would know how to choose.
Knowing that Vaughn’s silence earlier wasn’t due to suspicion of him, Kingsley, while relieved, quickly replied, “I choose the latter.”
Hearing this, Vaughn smiled. “Aren’t you going to discuss it with your family?”
Kingsley’s honest and trustworthy face showed a determined expression. “There’s no need to discuss it. Fudge is abusing his power and arbitrarily using public authority to oppress the Shackle family. We will not compromise, nor will we endure it. We will fight him to the end!”
A righteous and imposing speech!
The image of a wronged family unafraid of power was established in just a few sentences.
Vaughn looked at him with admiration, then summoned paper and pen and wrote two letters, one to Amelia and one to Barty Crouch.
He handed the two letters to Kingsley. “Since you’ve chosen the second option, write a letter to your family asking them to contact Amelia and Old Bardi. I’ve explained the situation to them, and they will help the Shackle family.”
Looking at the two letters, Kingsley suddenly felt a sense of being overwhelmed.
He certainly knew who these two were, major figures in the Ministry of Magic. One managed the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, presided over Wizengamot meetings, and held legislative and executive power, enjoying high status and authority.
The other controlled the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Previously, this department seemed inconspicuous, but with Vaughn proposing the international trade strategy for Wolfsbane Potion at the WAC conference, its importance visibly soared—equivalent to evolving from a simple Ministry of Foreign Affairs to a comprehensive entity of diplomacy, foreign trade, and policy output.
Consequently, Old Bardi, having shaken off his past troubles, was experiencing a political resurgence!
Most importantly, these two were famously in league with Vaughn, forming a formidable trio against Fudge!
How could the Shackle family possibly receive such assistance?
Kingsley suddenly understood that Vaughn did not question his resolve—he provided benefits and showed respect, so what else could be said?
…
Outside the suitcase, Nymphadora, still holding a pink toad, felt a bit down.
Kingsley’s words kept echoing in her mind.
Since graduating and deciding to take the Auror exam, her mother had entrusted her to Kingsley. For her, Kingsley was not only an elder but also her teacher and guide in life.
Yet, such a person whom she deeply respected was being forced to submit, and seemed to have lost his mind, even starting to talk nonsense.
Nymphadora was both worried and indignant!
And a little sad.
She didn’t have many friends. Due to a magical outburst in her childhood, her family moved frequently, leaving her with almost no familiar playmates her age. During her time at Hogwarts, her flamboyant and impulsive personality also hindered her from forming good relationships.
After graduation, she had almost no contact with her classmates.
It was even more so after joining the Aurors. She found it difficult to connect with those middle-aged wizards who had lived their entire lives in the wizarding world; their ways of thinking were just too different!
Hermione and Vaughn were rare individuals who were not too much older than her, could understand Muggle things, didn’t reject her because of her personality, and were even willing to accept her.
But Vaughn…
Thinking of this, Nymphadora’s eyes welled up. She looked at the entrance of the suitcase, wondering how Kingsley was bowing and scraping, enduring humiliation inside.
“I should have gone in with him. At least… at least when Weasley humiliated him, I could have helped curse that bastard!”
In her heated thoughts, Nymphadora gritted her teeth, her face contorted.
Remus, who had just entered carrying a tray, was startled for a moment. Then he reacted, and awkwardly greeted Nymphadora, “Uh, hello, Miss Tonks.”
Remus’s voice was flustered. For some reason, he always felt unsettled when facing this young girl.
“Nothing’s good!” Nymphadora glared at him fiercely. “You’d better pray Kingsley is alright, or I’m not done with you!”
“Ah?” Remus looked bewildered.
“Don’t act so innocent. Do you think I don’t know? You and Weasley, you only know how to bully the weak and oppress the good!”
After a few curses, Nymphadora’s mood became more anxious. Thinking of Kingsley’s silent, helpless, and dejected look before entering the suitcase, she felt heartbroken.
It was unbearable!
How detestable!
I thought you were good people!
I thought of you as friends!
Will Kingsley be kneeling?
At his age, to grovel before a child, how shameful!
Looking at Remus’s bewildered and innocent expression, Nymphadora suddenly felt a surge of anger rush to her head. She strode up to Remus and kicked him hard.
Without resisting, Remus, bewildered and innocent, fell to the ground with a plop, scattering the tray and pastries.
Nymphadora was still not satisfied. She grabbed his collar, her face flushed red, almost pressing the tip of her nose to Remus’s face, about to shout.
She heard an unexpected voice, cheerfully coming from the suitcase entrance: “Quick, Tonks, the family problem is solved, we… uh—am I interrupting?”
Turning around, Kingsley, who a few seconds ago was imagined by her to be enduring humiliation and shedding silent tears, revealed a dark, soot-covered face, blinking his eyes and smiling ambiguously and brilliantly, looking at her and Remus.
…
Walking on the streets of Boston, Nymphadora was dejected.
“You should be more cheerful, Tonks,” Kingsley, his eyes unable to hide his joy, pointed at the Muggle streets filled with exotic cultural vibes. “A girl under 20, why are you always moping? Don’t you like Muggle culture? You can go browse in those shops. You don’t need to accompany me; I’m just going to mail a few letters.”
“Oh, and remember to buy some tobacco and wine or something to take back for Remus…”
As he spoke, he couldn’t help but chuckle.
Nymphadora’s face flushed red. “How many times do I have to tell you! I wanted to teach him a lesson, not have… intimate relations with him!”
“Understood, understood!” Kingsley chuckled. Seeing Nymphadora’s ears turn completely red, he eased up a bit. “Regardless, you hit him, so buying a small gift as an apology is necessary, right? Although Remus said it’s fine and just a misunderstanding, we should be polite, shouldn’t we?”
“Hmph, it’s all because of you. If you hadn’t gone in there looking like you were going to the gallows, how could I have… Hmph, traitor!”
Nymphadora mumbled discontentedly.
However, after thinking about it, she felt that what Kingsley said was not entirely wrong. Although her impulse had a cause, there was indeed an element of misdirected anger—
Not to mention that Kingsley wasn’t subjected to any difficulties or humiliation; on the contrary, he had happily resolved all the problems.
Even if he had been humiliated, it had nothing to do with Remus.
She indeed owed the other party an apology…
“Do you really not need me to accompany you?” she asked hesitantly.
“No need.” Kingsley pointed to a building across the street from the Muggle commercial street. “The company recommended by the Confederation is over there; it’s not far.”
That building looked unremarkable.
However, judging by the fact that nearby Muggles unconsciously skirted around it, there was clearly magic involved.
It was a shady company, specializing in unofficial, illegal international shipping services, recommended to Kingsley by the Confederation—yes, in the magical land of America, even the Confederation had to find such an underground business for international shipping.
The Ministry of Magic certainly had official postal services, but according to the unique national conditions of America, they would screen every letter sent from within the Federation.
This was not a major problem in itself; the problem was their efficiency.
According to the Confederation representative who recommended this shady company, he had used the Ministry of Magic’s postal service once two years ago. By the time he finished his work in the Federation, returned to the Confederation headquarters, and completed his report, it had been another 7 months before the letter he sent had arrived at his hometown of Brussels…
So, in terms of efficiency, it was better to use a shady company, and even these companies, for the sake of performance, offered better security and reliability than the Ministry of Magic’s postal service.
Even in the wizarding world, this was quite magical.
Nymphadora and Kingsley were still in the process of adapting to this magical phenomenon, which led them to feel a constant sense of insecurity after leaving the hotel.
Seeing that the company was indeed not far from the Muggle commercial street, and that support could be provided at any time if there were any incidents, Nymphadora finally nodded:
“Then I’m off!”
“Go ahead. We’ll meet at the square later.”
Nymphadora ran her hand through her hair, turning it pink, then walked into the Muggle commercial street, chewing gum.
Boston was a rather peculiar city.
Among Muggles, it was known as the academic and cultural center of the Federation, housing some of the top Muggle institutions in the entire United States of America, such as Harvard and MIT.
From this perspective, it seemed like a very “young,” trendy, and “rational” city.
But in reality, Boston was one of the oldest regions in the Federation. In the late 16th century, immigrants from England established a colony here, then called Trimount, and those immigrants were Puritans expelled from England at the time!
Therefore, it was actually a city with a very strong religious atmosphere!
Nymphadora, disguised as a Muggle, curiously observed the buildings she passed. There were wide roads and tall buildings, but also various ancient stone and brick houses. Gleaming glass curtain walls and neon lights, lit even in broad daylight, mingled with sacred and solemn religious sites and weathered century-old buildings.
Even the pedestrians on the road seemed to carry this incongruous aura.
Stern, meticulous devout believers, and vibrant, youthful university students walked the same street, weaving past each other, mixed together.
Of course, the strangeness was only relative. At least Nymphadora felt a sense of familiarity here—
In a daze, she felt as if she were back in England, and even the name Boston felt familiar.
There was a town named Boston in Lincolnshire!
After a period of browsing, feeling both strange and familiar, she entered a decent-looking Muggle shop. Looking at the dazzling array of goods inside, Nymphadora felt a bit troubled.
What should she get as a gift?
Not only to apologize to Remus, but she also wanted to buy a small gift for Vaughn—although he was indeed excessive, given that he had helped Kingsley, Nymphadora felt she should express a little apology for cursing him.
Well, just a little!
While she was indecisively picking things out, Nymphadora suddenly heard a commotion outside.
She curiously peered out of the shop window and saw a group of people in strange attire marching down the street, a vast procession, like a dance of demons approaching from afar.
They held banners and signs, shouting slogans:
“Salem! Salem! The Third Salem movement!”
“Citizens have the right to know! The Federation should reveal the existence of wizards!”
“Burn all wizards, burn all witches!”
“…”
Looking at the surging procession, the overwhelming banners and slogans, which were bursting with information for wizards, Nymphadora was dumbfounded.
Beside her, the shop owner, who had come over to look outside with her, was unfazed:
“Those weirdos again.”
“Ah?” Nymphadora looked at the shop owner blankly.
The pot-bellied owner glanced at her pink hair, then returned to his seat, unfolded his newspaper, and said uninterestedly, “By your accent, you’re from Britain, right? You’ll get used to it if you stay longer. It’s the free United States.”
“Uh… those people are…?”
“Oh, an organization called the Third Salem movement. They’re odd. They say there are wizards in this world, demanding the Federation publicly reveal them to citizens, and put wizards on trial… Heh, they must be high on something!”
…
“…So, you and Kingsley just went for a stroll on the street and encountered a group calling themselves the Third Salem, holding a demonstration on a Muggle street?”
“Of course, I saw it with my own eyes!”
“And they gave you a propaganda pamphlet? With their goals, ideology, contact information, and address?”
“Yeah, it’s printed on the pamphlet!”
“…”
Inside the suitcase space, Vaughn and a hastily arrived Ajinbad exchanged glances. Opposite them, Nymphadora chewed gum with a roguish demeanor.
She didn’t seem very reliable…
Vaughn couldn’t help but look at Kingsley.
The veteran Auror looked a bit dazed, his thoughts seemingly still lingering from the previous shock. Only when Vaughn coughed did he snap back, smiling wryly and shrugging:
“Mr. Weasley, the facts are indeed as Tonks said. We saw an organization called the Third Salem movement marching on the street.”
Vaughn was speechless for a moment.
After a pause, he asked, “Did you check if there were any wizards in the procession?”
“No, I can confirm that.”
“Did you check their memories?”
“…” Kingsley glanced at Ajinbad, who remained impassive, as if he hadn’t heard. He then said, “I subtly jumbled the memories of a Muggle who seemed to be an organizer and briefly read them. I found nothing unusual.”
According to Auror regulations, memory magic was a mandatory skill, although many Aurors in England today treated the regulations as nonexistent.
However, Kingsley was more old-fashioned and pursued self-improvement. While his memory magic was not masterful, it was not poor either.
Vaughn chose to believe his words.
He nodded. “I understand… Thank you, Tonks, you’ve brought back important intelligence…”
Even for Vaughn, who had a thick skin, uttering this praise was a little difficult.
After all, Nymphadora had just been shopping…
However, Nymphadora clearly didn’t feel awkward. Hearing Vaughn’s praise, the girl’s lips curved into a wide arc, and her mood visibly brightened.
“Then consider this a gift for you. Don’t say it’s stingy, anyway, you probably can’t use Muggle things.”
Saying this cheerfully, Nymphadora, without waiting for Vaughn’s reaction, hopped away.
Vaughn: “?”
What gift?
Watching Nymphadora’s spirited back, Kingsley was speechless inwardly.
Fortunately, Vaughn didn’t dwell on her words or her lack of discipline. After some thought, he instructed Kingsley, “Go find Remus, and along with a few others, go to the Muggle streets and inquire about this Third Salem movement organization…”
As he spoke, he suddenly remembered something. “Oh, send Umbridge over later. I’ll lift the Transfiguration Spell on her, so Fudge doesn’t keep pressuring you.”
“Yes, Mr. Weasley.”
Kingsley replied submissively.
In fact, ever since he decided to pledge allegiance to Vaughn, whether the Transfiguration Spell on Umbridge was lifted or not had become irrelevant.
However, a high-EQ Kingsley would naturally not refuse his boss’s kindness, whether it was still needed or not.
After Kingsley left.
Ajinbad, who had remained silent, slowly spoke. “Will the Third Salem they discovered be the one we’re thinking of?”
The name Third Salem was not unfamiliar to either of them.
Vaughn had first learned of this name from Isabella’s letter. According to Isabella’s description, it seemed to be an anti-wizard organization initiated by American Muggles, similar to an organization called Second Salem from decades ago.
Hearing Ajinbad’s question, Vaughn thought for a moment and shook his head. “Not necessarily… The connection between the Purifiers and the Salem organizations can be traced back to the Salem Witch Trials in Massachusetts. This witch-hunting movement, which occurred in the 17th century, led to the establishment of the Ministry of Magic, the rise of the 12 pure-bloods, and the purge of the Purifiers by the entire North American wizarding world.”
In fact, the so-called Purifiers were wizards who converted to the Muggle church!
These wizards initially acted like mercenaries. Mercenaries didn’t care whether they were Muggles or wizards; they worked for whoever paid them gold.
These mercenaries rapidly rose in England during the new religious movements of the 14th and 15th centuries.
However, as the Puritan religious movement failed in England and they were expelled to the North American colonies, some wizards who had accepted employment from Protestants betrayed the wizarding world for some reason and converted to religion.
The reason for this is that no magical history in the world has ever provided reliable evidence, and even the wizarding world of America itself is unclear.
After all, even the ancestors of the 12 pure-bloods, those 12 powerful wizards, had almost no good end on the chaotic North American continent at that time.
Many secrets were buried in the fires of war!
Anyone who had studied general magical history knew about this period, so Vaughn didn’t elaborate further and continued, “Their connection in the true sense probably dates back to 1926, when Second Salem appeared in America, founded by Mary Lou Barebone.”
Ajinbad, who had been listening silently, his expression becoming enlightened upon hearing the surname “Barebone,” exclaimed, “Ha—Bartholomew Barebone, 《 Rappaport Law 》!”
Another world-famous case.
The Ministry of Magic was established in the 17th century. For nearly a hundred years in the 18th century, the North American wizarding world was quite open-minded. The nascent Federation was thriving in all aspects.
Until the end of the 18th century, Aristocles Twelve Trees’ daughter, a guardian of the Ministry of Magic’s treasure and cauldron, fell in love with a handsome Muggle named Bartholomew Barebone.
Bartholomew Barebone was actually a descendant of the Purifiers. He tricked Doucas into giving him her wand and all information about the Federation’s wizarding world, including the location of Ilvermorny, and then publicly revealed these to the entire Muggle society, calling on all Muggles to unite and launch another witch hunt.
The serious threat forced the then-President of the Ministry of Magic, Emily Rappaport, to issue the 《 Rappaport Law 》, implementing a strict segregation system between Muggles and wizards.
The repercussions continue to this day!
“What a notorious surname,” Ajinbad snorted. Then, he looked at Vaughn somewhat curiously. “By the way, how did you know about Second Salem? Even the Confederation doesn’t have this information, let alone the name of its founder.”
