0381 Friendship
Within the spacious lunchroom of the picturesque riverside cottage, Bryan was seated comfortably beside the rustic dining table, his eyes intently focused on reading that day's edition of "The Gargoyle's Roar," a newspaper that wielded an influence in France comparable to that of the 'The Daily Prophet' in Britain. Bryan rembered that during the previous press conference held at the Ministry of Magic regarding the Greyback incident, one of the female reporters who had asked questions belonged to this newspaper.
Among the recent hot topics in Paris, the Triwizard Tournant undoubtedly topped the list.
However, this matter was still under wraps. Although it was no longer a secret among high society, the masses of the European wizarding world remained oblivious to it.
The newspaper carried so trivial news items. After skimming through it, Bryan casually tossed the paper onto the table and looked out the restaurant window with an amused smile on his face. Several children who were peeping through the window imdiately shrank their heads.
In that precise mont, Vipor Dreghorn, with a sullen and frosty face, entered the lunchroom, clutching a plate with steaming, freshly baked bread slices and a silver pitcher brimming with hot milk. He placed the tray before Bryan with a distinct air of reluctance. "I don't have much to offer you, Watson,"
Although quite old in age, Vipor Dreghorn's temper was still as fiery as ever. He wore a frosty expression. If Bryan Watson hadn't coincidentally saved his grandson monts ago, Bryan would never have been allowed into this place. But there was nothing to be grateful for either, as Ludwig would not have been in any real danger of his life even without him(he thought so). Moreover, Bryan Watson had trespassed onto his property without permission.
"It's alright, Mr. Dreghorn. I'm not picky," Bryan replied, his tone one of casual nonchalance, not reacting to the tension that perated the air.
Vipor Dreghorn's attitude was already much better than what he had expected. In fact, Bryan had barged in with the intention of first engaging with Vipor Dreghorn in a scuffle before properly communicating. It was just that the wonderful coincidence just now saved this situation that was very likely to happen.
"According to the rules--" Vipor began, his piercing gaze fixing upon Bryan, who was leisurely savoring his breakfast, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was an unwelco guest. Yet, it was this very composure that compelled Vipor to reluctantly acknowledge that Bryan Watson was no ordinary wizard. Considering the young man's age, the term 'exceptional' seed a gross understatent – Dumbledore's vision and discernnt remained as impeccable as ever.
At the previous party, misled by that cunning fellow Karkaroff and his own desire to embarrass Hogwarts and Dumbledore, he had rashly confronted Bryan Watson without conducting a proper investigation – a decision that he now recognized as utterly foolish.
However, as he recalled the humiliation he had suffered, his fleeting regret was swiftly drowned by a resurgent wave of anger towards Bryan. His fist clenched tightly beneath the table's surface, his knuckles whitening with the intensity of his grip. "Before the review committee convenes, Watson, I should not have any private contacts with the representatives of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang, or with officials from the three ministries of magic. So..."
Vipor paused, drawing a deep, steadying breath as his previously suppressed rage burst forth in a torrent of scolding words uttered in a raised voice, "After you finish eating, please leave my house imdiately, Watson. I won't report the trespassing to the Ministry of Magic. Let's just pretend we never t today!"
"It seems..." Facing the coldly indifferent Vipor Dreghorn, Bryan calmly retrieved a napkin and dabbed at the corners of his mouth with practiced refinent. Then, leaning back in his chair with unhurried motion, he smiled faintly, "You're quite familiar with the selection rules, aren't you, Mr. Dreghorn?"
Vipor Dreghorn narrowed his eyes, not understanding what tricks Bryan was playing.
Before the party, the two did not know each other at all, and there was no friendship to reminisce about. Bryan, too, was keenly aware that his presence was not only unwanted but utterly unwelco, and thus he made no attempt to conceal his intentions. Under Vipor's wary, scrutinizing gaze, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a spatial bag, tossing it onto the dining table.
The instant the bag made contact with the table's surface, it emitted a lodious series of pleasant tinkling sounds, the unmistakable chi of coins colliding. No further explanation was required – Vipor instantly knew what was inside.
"What's the aning of this?" The previously cautious gaze morphed into a disdainful glare as the old man sneered, the corners of his mouth twisting in a contemptuous sneer, "Have you lost your mind, Watson? Trying to bribe with galleons? You should know that as a mber of the review committee, we are strictly bound by magical contracts. We cannot accept any favors from the three parties. Take your money and leave my house, or I'll expose today's incident and let you taste the humiliation of a tarnished reputation!"
"Perhaps you misunderstood, Mr. Dreghorn," Bryan said, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly, "Bribery? How could I do such a stupid thing?"
Without pausing to allow Vipor an opportunity to respond, Bryan continued, "This is not a bribe, Mr. Dreghorn. My purpose in coming here is to return what rightfully belongs to you. Eight thousand Galleons – this is the amount your wife, Mrs. Yoshabelle, inadvertently left behind at the Gringotts headquarters while conducting business there."
As Bryan spoke, Vipor Dreghorn's expression underwent a rapid succession of transformations. He stared at the bag of coins resting innocently upon the table, his dry lips quivering, rendered utterly speechless, unable to formulate a clear response. When at last he tore his gaze away and t Bryan's steady, unwavering stare, his eyes showed a hint of fear.
"This is not mine-" Vipor blurted out, the words tumbling from his lips in haste, but he abruptly clamped his mouth shut, the sentence remaining unfinished.
It was a certainty that Bryan Watson had close ties with goblins; otherwise, he could never have retrieved these eight thousand Galleons from the greedy claws of those creatures.
From Bryan's expression, he probably thought that he wanted to make a fortune by taking advantage of his status, but that was not the case.
After the Federation decided to select a committee from among its mbers to review the comprehensive safety proposals submitted by the three rival schools and ultimately choose the host venue for the prestigious Triwizard Tournant, Igor Karkaroff, that cunning and duplicitous the headmaster of Durmstrang, saw an opportunity and approached Yoshabelle.
That cunning fellow did not make any requests to Yoshabelle. He just reminisced about their school days with her and pretended to casually ntion that the goblins had already set up a betting pool, with Durmstrang currently having the most favorable odds of erging victorious.
As partners of several decades, Karkaroff knew that Yoshabelle would be really tempted by the alluring prospect of not only amassing a substantial fortune in Galleons but also the chance to contribute, to the glory and success of her beloved alma mater.
Vipor, while aware of the inherent risks involved in such an endeavor, had nevertheless been swayed by the opportunity to strike a blow against Dumbledore and Hogwarts, and thus he had been happy to see it happen. Now, however, with Bryan leveraging this incident as a ans to exert leverage and threaten him, Vipor found himself without any plausible explanation or justification to offer.
Both parties were smart people, and knew the consequences of this matter being exposed.
"What exactly do you want, Watson?" Vipor's voice erged as a hoarse, rasping whisper, devoid of its previously blustering harshness.
Just a day had passed, and the embarrassnt he faced at the party had already beco widely known. If this incident were to be exposed as well, forget about vying for the chairmanship after Dumbledore's retirent – even his current position might not be secure!
He could not, would not, abandon either his hard-won status or his beloved wife, Yoshabelle, to the ravages of disgrace and ruin.
"I have nothing else to ask for, Mr. Dreghorn--" Bryan said with a faint smile as he stood up. "I just hope that in the matter of selecting the Triwizard Tournant host, you will make a fair and impartial judgnt."
Unlike his interactions with the goblins of Gringotts, Bryan had no expectation or desire of befriending Vipor Dreghorn. Having achieved his objective, he had no desire to linger further. Barty could return at any mont, and he needed to hurry back to the hotel before then.
"Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Dreghorn," Bryan said as his palm touched the cold tallic surface of the doorknob. Suddenly rembering sothing, Bryan stopped in his tracks and turned around. He saw Vipor Dreghorn sitting motionless on the chair, looking directly at him with a cold stare. Bryan blinked slowly, pondered for a mont, and then smiled faintly.
"There's no need to be so hostile towards , Mr. Dreghorn. Perhaps soday in the future, we could beco friends."
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