Silence... and more silence.
A silence like the river Cam tonight.
Suddenly, a voice rang out in the public ward—
"Weasley? Weasley?... Oh, not you, I'm looking for Percy Weasley!"
"What is it, Oliver?"
"Professor Dumbledore—" a boy's voice said, "—wants you to go to the small chamber off the Great Hall immediately. He has questions for you."
"Professor Dumbledore must want to hear the details of the train incident from me!"
Percy's voice carried a mix of joy and pride.
"I'll head there right away, Oliver... just give me a minute. I'm applying dittany to this little fellow. His back was cut by glass."
"Make it quick then," the boy named Oliver said nonchalantly. "The Minister for Magic is waiting there too."
Clang—crash—clatter—smash!
"What is going on, Percy Weasley? Clumsy fool!"
Madam Pomfrey, who was mixing potions, stormed out of her office furiously.
"Don't I have enough chaos on my hands already?"
There was no response, because Percy was already on the third floor.
---
Ares turned his attention back from the interlude outside the ward to Hermione Granger on the adjacent bed.
The little girl's round brown eyes were still glistening with unshed tears. Her lips were slightly parted, but her expression... well, it was a mix of emotions.
"Ahem—"
Ares coughed twice into his loosely clenched fist.
"A misunderstanding, Miss Granger—I think we both agree there's been a misunderstanding between us."
Hermione hesitated for a moment, then nodded in confusion.
"I never lie, Miss Granger," Ares said cheerfully, wearing a peculiar smile.
"The Ministry of Magic also thought I was selling fake medicine, so they threw me in prison. But very quickly, they realized they had wronged an innocent man and released me immediately!"
A glimmer of realization flashed in Hermione's brown eyes, and her nodding became much more emphatic.
"I dare swear to you on the lives of Professor Dumbledore's descendants—oh, the one with the white beard, you'll see him soon—Miss Granger," Ares smiled kindly.
"The medicine I sold is absolutely effective—it made you unconscious for a while, didn't it? But you must have been too panicked to notice that after waking up, you were full of energy and had superb memory... Did you preview your new textbooks, Miss Granger?"
"I did, Prof—Professor Delfino!"
Hermione puffed out her chest, her tone suddenly sounding a bit pompous.
"I memorized all the textbooks."
"There you have it!"
Ares applauded Hermione, sealing the deal.
"That is the outstanding effect of my exclusive Brain Elixir!"
Is... is it?
Hermione Granger nodded dizzily.
Seeing the little girl accept his explanation, Ares breathed a sigh of relief.
"So, you don't want a refund?"
"Actually, I..." Hermione mumbled incoherently.
"Tell you what, Miss Granger!"
Seeing the little girl still hesitating, Ares gritted his teeth.
"If you ever encounter trouble at Hogwarts, you can come to me, and I'll solve it for you... How about that for after-sales service?"
---
"What do you think that stream of light was, Dumbledore?"
"There are many guesses, Cornelius, but none withstand scrutiny."
From Percy, Fudge and Dumbledore had gotten a general idea of what happened before and after the train lost control.
They walked out of the small chamber at the front of the Great Hall, crossed the hall in silence, entered the Entrance Hall, and ascended the marble staircase.
But as soon as they reached the second floor, out of sight of the students and Healers, Fudge could no longer restrain his desire for the truth.
Wiping sweat from his cheeks with a handkerchief, he eagerly questioned Dumbledore, but the answers he got were unsatisfactory.
"You're not worried since there were no student casualties, Dumbledore."
As the two continued climbing the stairs, Fudge glanced at Dumbledore's calm face and wailed with resentment.
"But the Ministry is in big trouble—"
Fudge pulled a long face.
"Needless to say, I'll definitely have to accept an exclusive interview with the Daily Prophet about this incident... That leech Rita Skeeter won't let me off easily—and the public will definitely demand the truth from me.
I'm almost certain I won't be able to work in my own office until this is cleared up, because it's probably already buried in Howlers from all over the country!"
The two reached the third floor.
"The advice I can give you is—"
Dumbledore maintained his unruffled expression, his blue gaze deep and distant.
"—withstand the pressure, Cornelius. Do not make any statements lightly until the Department of Magical Transportation issues a reliable accident report."
An accident report from the Department of Magical Transportation?
Listening to this suggestion, Fudge couldn't help but sigh himself.
"Also, there is one more thing I hope we can reach a consensus on, Cornelius—"
Although much older than Fudge, Dumbledore's breathing remained steady.
"I know you are determined to reward Ares—I do not object, and I also believe that given the role Ares Delfino played in this crisis, a First Class Order of Merlin is more than deserved. But if..."
Stepping onto the fourth-floor corridor, Dumbledore paused, his usually unwavering gaze rarely "wavering."
"If—Ares hopes to obtain a special release order from you later—"
"Huh?"
"—regarding the Ministry's ban on his wand, Cornelius—"
Dumbledore's gaze became firm again as he looked at the Minister.
"Of course, I cannot order you, Cornelius. It is merely my suggestion... I hope you will consider it carefully."
Mentioning Ares's wand ban, Fudge shifted his broad shoulders uneasily.
He stopped under a torch, turning his puzzled face to Dumbledore.
"Sounds like you don't want Ares to get a wand, Dumbledore? But why? I remember last time, you were firmly against the Ministry destroying his wand, weren't you?"
Under the golden torchlight, Dumbledore's brows drew slightly closer together, but he offered no answer.
"Oh, I see—"
Fudge's chubby face showed a look of realization first. He patted Dumbledore's arm briskly, smiling sympathetically.
"Yes—yes, it's not a good feeling, is it? A wizard stopping a completely out-of-control train without a wand... it's incredible... Oh, of course, I believe you could definitely do it too when you were young, Dumbledore, but now—er, am I being too blunt?"
Undoubtedly, Dumbledore rolled his eyes subtly once again.
"I completely understand, completely understand how you feel, Dumbledore—"
Fudge quickened his pace, continuing toward the Hospital Wing fifty feet away.
"But you have to look on the bright side, Dumbledore. You know this kind of thing will happen sooner or later, don't you? Sooner or later, it's bound to happen—Why aren't you talking, Dumbledore? Er, why aren't you saying anything—Did I... did I hurt your pride?"