Amorast Bryant, in the European magical community over the past two years, no one's brilliance has been brighter than his. To make a request to defy such a wizard is undoubtedly an extremely difficult thing for a household spirit. However, Hain still bent under the immense pressure and said with an endless tone of regret,
"I'm very sorry, respectfully Mr. Bryant. The master doesn't want to be disturbed in his peaceful life. Other than his old friends, he hasn't received any guests for nearly two decades."
"I'm sorry, Hain, but I must see Director Vogel today."
Amorast did not lose his temper; he merely calmly repeated his request, but his resolute posture was undoubtedly enough to make Hain understand his determination.
This elderly house elf took a few breaths, his cloudy eyes flashing with fear and a faint sense of despair as he stood almost touching his knee, his fingers trembling slightly. It seemed like he was calculating how much of a chance there was to expel Amorast Bryant.
But in the end, Hain made a rational judgment.
"Please wait, Mr. Bryant..." Hain bowed to Amorast and then, somewhat in a hurry, teleported away in a flash of phasing.
"It's incredible, even Director Vogel is still alive. I thought he must have been long dead. How old is he, actually?"
After Hain left, Kingsley couldn't hold it back any longer. He, for the first time in a long time, was so flustered that he looked at Amorast with a shocked expression.
"Hmm, probably around one hundred and ten years old?"
Amorast glanced at Louise, who was surprised and her lips twitched, and said with a smile.
"Since Dumbledore is still alive, it's not that incredible that Vogel hasn't died, is it?"
Although he said this, Kingsley still couldn't process the shock it gave him. At the same time, he finally understood why he felt a sense of familiarity when he heard Gisèna Vogel's name.
"Don't forget there's still a Muggle here!"
Louise glanced between Amorast and Kingsley, then said with a sense of injustice.
"Could someone be kind enough to tell me who Anton Vogel is?"
"Sixty years ago, he served as the President of the International Confederation of Witches and Wizards..."
Amorast said succinctly.
"Oh wow, a retired bigwig--" Louise made a noise of astonishment again. Then, she blinked her eyes and asked with a bit of confusion,
"So, you think, well, Gisèna Vogel is his protégé, right? Oh, how do you come to that conclusion? The surname Vogel isn't rare; I had a classmate with that name in university."
Kingsley also looked at Amorast, hoping to get a convincing explanation, but Amorast was simply smiling faintly.
"It's just my intuition."
"Intuition?"
Louise wrinkled her nose.
"Alright. But what if Director Vogel doesn't want to see us? You wizards probably won't allow trespassing into someone's home, will you?"
Bam!
Before Amorast could say anything, Hain appeared in front of him, and the still evident shock on the little elf's face told Amorast that his party had not been turned away.
"Please come with me, Mr. Bryant."
The household spirit said nothing more, nodded at Amorast, and turning his back, slowly lifted his long arms to wipe something away in the air.
Louise only heard a sound of chain snapping in the void, then Amorast walked forward, following the ugly and poorly dressed little elf called Hain. "Oh, he's a house elf!" she exclaimed.
"I've never been to a wizard's house as a guest..."
Crossing the fence and wall, Louise became obviously tense. She dared not look around anymore, feeling that every inch of space around her was permeated with mystery. She nervously swallowed and turned her head slightly to whisper to Kingsley.
"Do wizards have any strange habits? Oh, if this old director asks me to bow, I'm not going to agree--"
Hearing Louise's muttering, Hain, who was walking in the front, turned his head and glanced at Louise. His wrinkled skin trembled a few times and a touch of contempt shone through his eyes--
Of course, he could tell that the woman was not a witch at all; a lowly Muggle entering his master's home was undoubtedly an affront. If it hadn't been for her being with Amorast Bryant, old Hain would have even thrown her directly into the river.
"Shut up, Louise--"
Kingsley's soft rebuke was also tinged with tension. Anton Vogel, although not loved by witches during his term, and because of the well-known reason that made his fall from power a source of joy for many, was a wizard who left an indelible mark in the history of magic. He was the former President of the International Confederation of Wizards, and the president of that time held significant power.
Kingsley lacks the strength and status of Amorast, and in the presence of such a legendary wizard, it's natural for him to feel some tension.
There's no way for a house elf to have a messy house. Although the room is old and tarnished, it is clean, with no dust on the pristine wooden floor that has been eroded by time.
Although the sunlight shines outside, the room, with only candlelight illuminating it, appears much darker.
Stepping into a wizard's home for the first time, and into the home of a former bigwig, Louise could no longer contain her curiosity and began to glance around. However, after a few glances, disappointment was visibly etched on her face. There were few magical artifacts in the room; everything seemed primitive and outdated, as if it were the home of an old man who had been away from civilized society for many years.
Hain led them through the living room and into the backyard.
There was a Ficus tree in the yard, probably planted when the house was first built. The massive canopy almost covered a quarter of the backyard, and countless aqueous roots hung down from the branches, resembling a forest.
On the edge of the shadow formed by the tree canopy, there was a hammock chair. An elderly man, wrapped in a robe, was lying in it.
This indeed was an extremely old man, with wrinkles on his face like the bark of the Ficus tree in the yard. He had short, easy-to-manage beard below his chin, but like his white hair, it lacked color.
Life was slowly but firmly draining out of the elderly man's body, and he had little time left.
Even Louise felt a sense of clarity upon seeing Anton Vogel.
Once a prominent figure in the European magical community, Anton Vogel, was now a frail old man lying in the hammock chair. He gazed at the group of people, led by Hain, entering the backyard through the back door and walking towards him. Eventually, Amorast stepped to about ten feet away from him.
The breeze flowed through the air, and Amorast's soft and lustrous gray hair, as well as Anton Vogel's white beard, swayed in the wind together.
The dull yet world-worn eyes, as still as still water and without fluctuations, met the piercing gaze that was as sharp as a peak piercing the sky. Yet, they were also as unmovable as a rock in the midst of a raging sea.
The atmosphere was completely silent.
Observing the two wizards staring calmly at each other, Kingsley, who stopped in place further away, felt his heart racing uncontrollably. He seemed to see two eras confronting each other before him, and waves of thunderous noise flooded his ears.
Louise seemed to want to follow the most basic of Muggle etiquette and greet the old man, but a strange atmosphere that seemed to suffocate her kept her silent.
"Your eyes remind me of an old friend, Mr. Bryant President."
The silence was finally broken. Vogel leaned back in the hammock chair, his voice aged and reminiscent, tinged with a hint of sorrow.
Mr. Bryant President?
This was an interesting title. It seemed that since last summer, when he expelled Victoire at the Quidditch World Cup and was elected as the Vice President of the International Confederation of Wizards, no one had called him this way before.
"I hope it's not Dumbledore, Vogel sir--"
Amorast said with a smile.
(Chapter ended)
