Chapter 224: The International Confederation of Wizards
The International Confederation of Wizards (ICW), founded by the French wizard Pierre Bonaccord, is an international magical organization dedicated to fostering cooperation across the wizarding world. It functions roughly as the magical equivalent of the United Nations.
This organization usually has little presence in the lives of young students, as they rarely have reason to interact with it. Alongside the Wizengamot, it remains one of those high-level institutions that students know exist, but understand very little about.
Now, however, this mysterious organization had come knocking on the door.
The meeting took place in a specific room within the castle, the door of which bore a plaque reading: Special Meeting Hall.
As they entered, Sean suddenly realized something. He spoke in a very low whisper:
"Professor Terra, I don't seem to see any..."
"Silly child," Professor Terra replied, her expression still radiant with joy. She spoke in a brisk, lighthearted tone:
"No foolish Ministry bureaucrats? Or no meddling members of the International Confederation of Wizards? If you are worried about the International Alchemical Symposium being defined as an illegal gathering, you would do better to worry that we might consider the Ministry an illegal organization... What if I told you that Uagadou once went to war with the African Confederation of Wizards and—won?"
Seeing Sean look utterly shocked, Professor Terra shook her head. Her apprentice possessed potential enough to overturn the entire magical world, yet she couldn't detect a shred of mundane ambition in him.
But in another, more sublime sense... he was indeed incredibly ambitious. This thought gave Professor Terra even greater comfort.
Chattering away, they entered the room. Sean followed behind the two professors, taking in his surroundings.
It was a small room located on the west side of the castle—cramped, yet undeniably warm. The four walls were lined with bookshelves that towered to the ceiling, and books that couldn't fit on the shelves seemed to have taken on a life of their own, sprawling across the floor in precarious stacks. In the center of the room, an ancient stone fireplace roared with a cheerful, crackling flame, the dancing firelight illuminating the worn rug by the hearth.
The only window was a long, narrow arch embedded in the thick stone wall. Outside, the castle was besieged by a night of wind and rain. Occasionally, a gale would howl past, rattling the ancient panes, but the interior remained unaffected—peaceful, quiet, and secure.
Three well-dressed wizards appeared to have been waiting there for quite some time; in fact, they had waited so long they were beginning to look a bit confused.
"Master Terra," said the wizard in the center, dressed in sharp, pressed black robes. "Allow me to ask: has this generation of young geniuses truly produced not a single patent application?"
Professor Terra's smile seemed to grow even brighter.
"Patience, Augustus. Perhaps they were waiting, too..."
The wizard called Augustus felt his gaze sharpen instantly. His burning eyes swept over the group, lingering on Professor McGonagall for a second before fixing directly on Sean at the back.
"So young... such a young Gold Award winner... young and promising, truly young and promising..."
He rushed forward in a single stride and extended his hand. "Riley Augustus, Vice-Chairman of the International Confederation of Wizards and current Head of the Department of Education. I sincerely thank you for the contribution you have made to the magical world."
The hand Sean extended was shaken violently. He felt the enthusiasm of the Head of Education in every vibration.
"Mr. Augustus, is this not a trifle informal?"
A slightly younger witch standing nearby frowned. She was a member of the Auror Office and couldn't quite comprehend Riley Augustus's behavior.
Ten minutes later.
"Mr. Green, please consider it. Five hundred Galleons. Per biscuit—"
She made her offer with desperate urgency. What had she just heard?
Kneazles that could identify intent and navigate automatically; Bowtruckles that offered perfect stealth; and that accursed Fire Dragon, along with the unimaginable derivative products that would surely follow...
From today onward, sky-high offers would swarm around this alchemist. Especially from those stubborn, ancient alchemists—what price would they not be willing to pay?!
Riley Augustus looked at his dear Deputy Head of the Auror Office with a strange expression. He completely understood the Auror's feelings. As someone active on the front lines, she understood the immense value of silent identification and absolute concealment. If a sales channel were ever opened, not a single Auror would refuse to trade three months' salary for a guarantee of survival.
"My dear Ollie Mitchell, you are being impolite."
Augustus put a stop to Ollie's behavior. In the alchemical world, bypassing the teacher to question the apprentice was considered a grave breach of etiquette.
This was the corner of the magical world where "protecting one's own" was taken most seriously. If one dared to show even a hint of a threat to an old alchemist's apprentice, those half-buried wizards wouldn't hesitate to fight with their lives. And unfortunately for the aggressor, given enough time to prepare, there was no telling what kind of alchemical horror an old wizard might unleash.
"My apologies," Ollie said, lowering her head slightly, though her eyes remained filled with reluctant determination.
The heavy rain outside drummed against the windowpane. Not long after, Sean followed the professors out of the room.
In the end, Riley Augustus only managed to secure a vague promise from the Professor—when the Auror Office wished to apply for a quota of Fairy Tale Biscuits, they would have the opportunity to inquire once every six months.
Only now did Sean realize the kind of massive wave his biscuits were about to cause in the magical world.
" realized it?" Professor Terra asked, watching the changes in the young wizard's expression with a subtle look. "Rumors are the one thing wizards can never control. Endless trouble is the inevitable companion of fame. My apprentice, you must learn to find a spokesperson for yourself."
After politely declining Professor Terra's recommendations, Sean sat in the spacious, comfortable chair of his room.
Once the banquet ended, the hidden communal rooms vanished, replaced by individual quarters styled specifically for alchemists. Much like the seats enchanted with the Undetectable Extension Charm, every part of this place was frighteningly spacious. What appeared to be a cozy cabin actually included a garden, a swimming pool, and a large alchemy laboratory filled with materials and instruments.
Sean enjoyed his dessert while looking over Headmaster Dumbledore's notes, feeling a sense of satisfaction. After all, he hadn't eaten Chinese food in a long time.
"Spokesperson..."
As raindrops slid down the glass of the window, Sean sensed something. He pulled a button from his bag; at this moment, the button was vibrating and growing hot to the touch.
This was the special button shared with Justin. The specific attribute selection for the Summoning Charm within it was restricted to buttons made of soil, Thestral tail feathers, and wood. This highly specific attribute choice allowed them to feel each other's call even across a great distance.
Sean's deep gaze turned toward the storm raging outside the window.
Hogwarts. Tonight, while he was away, and while Headmaster Dumbledore happened to be away... what was happening?
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