Chapter 78. Tie Them Up!
Lynn and Professor Fawkes found a small hotel to stay in.
Smith returned to the church at this time.
Simon and Leon hadn't left yet; they were smoking and waiting with Rozier in the church.
The sacred place of the Lord was now filled with smoke.
Smith pushed open the church door and was caught off guard, choked by the smoke filling the room.
"Have you had enough? If any believers come and see this, Rozier, aren't you afraid of the church's punishment?"
Rozier stubbed out her cigarette, her face full of disdain.
"If I were afraid of those old charlatans, I wouldn't be a nun anymore."
Leon and Simon helped open the windows to ventilate the room and asked Smith about her progress.
Smith sat down with difficulty on a bench and shook her head.
"They're too vigilant; I think I've already alerted them."
Simon and Leon exchanged glances, and Rozier spoke up at this moment.
"So, you went out and not only didn't find out anything, you also exposed us?"
"It's no secret that we're here. They'll always find a way to know we're here, and I didn't come away empty-handed." Smith rubbed his injured leg.
"I feel like I vaguely remember that adult wizard. Leon, go, get the Daily Prophet from last year."
"Why do you always order me around?" Leon muttered, but still got up and went to the inner chapel, bringing out a thick stack of newspapers.
Smith flipped through the back, quickly finding what he wanted, pulled out the Daily Prophet, and spread it out in front of the three of them.
The newspaper was dated September 1990, and the front page boldly proclaimed: Former Prisoner, Today's Defense Profession Professor!
The accompanying photo clearly expressed the author's malice towards Professor Fawkes.
She had chosen a photo of Fawkes from ten years ago when he was imprisoned; his hair was disheveled, his eyes sunken, his face gloomy and pale, his gaze numb as he stared at the camera, unblinking.
"That's him!"
Smith tapped the photo on the newspaper, confirming.
"He's with a little boy, but not the 15 or 16-year-old Rozier said. He looks at most 13, probably a student."
"A Hogwarts professor and a young wizard?" Simon exclaimed in surprise. "Why are they here?"
*Bang!
* Rozier slammed her hand on the table, startling the three old men!
"Who cares why they're here! Now that they're in this city, they have no say in it! Arrest them!"
Her expression remained cold, but Smith and the others could hear the hatred in her eyes and tone.
The three fell silent.
Rozier glared at them sideways: "Are you scared?"
Seeing that the two beside her remained silent, Ryan had no choice but to try and persuade them himself.
"So many years have passed. I know you still hate Dumbledore, but we don't need to offend him again. What happens after we arrest the Hogwarts professors and young wizards?
Are we supposed to kill him?
This is a society governed by law. Even if we're all old bachelors with nothing to our lives, you should think about our married colleagues. They still have to make a living."
Rozier sneered.
"You've really forgotten your identity as wizards. You keep saying you're working for a greater good, yet you're willing to accept Muggle laws and governance."
Ryan and his two companions exchanged glances, each seeing the bitterness in the other's eyes.
They had no magic left. Who else would consider them wizards besides themselves?
What else could they do but refuse Muggle governance and jurisdiction? Continue with their old beliefs and get locked up in jail by those Muggle police?
After all this time, Ryan and his group had long since resigned themselves to their fate. Only Rozier still remembered the ideals of the man who had imprisoned himself in Nurmengard.
Even though that man himself had given up, Rosier had never let go.
She longed for their former glory and hated Albus Dumbledore, who had cast them down to earth.
Rosier subconsciously touched the cigarette case in her pocket, but it was empty. The passing of an old friend, coupled with the arrival of wizards in this small town, had left her distraught, and she'd already smoked quite a few cigarettes that day.
The church remained silent for a long time.
"I didn't say I was going to kill them," Rosier said slowly.
"Now that they're here, they're just like us. They can forget about going back to being professors and junior wizards. Whether they stay here or seek help from Dumbledore, they need our permission on this territory."
Simon pondered Rosier's words.
"So, you mean to capture them and make them pay homage?"
"We're not the Mafia! What do we mean by paying homage!" Rosier was infuriated by Simon's lack of intelligence.
"Capture them, then notify Dumbledore! Let him come and get them himself!"
Leon understood Rosier's meaning.
"Are you trying to embarrass Dumbledore?"
"Hmph!" Rosier snorted. "Even though the Dark Lord has imprisoned himself in Nurmengard, what he left behind is not something ordinary wizards can resist. Let Dumbledore see what he can do when his professors and junior wizards have lost their magic!"
Silence fell over the church for a long while.
Finally, Smith slammed his cane on the floor.
"Let's do it! We've been holding this in for so many years, and we don't even know how many more days we have left! Let's tie them up and vent our anger!"
Seeing that they had made up their minds, Simon, who had always been the one making decisions for others, hesitated before asking,
"Then... how should we tie them up?"
Smith leaned on his cane and walked out of the church.
"Go home and sleep tonight, Simon. Your cows are probably starving, and they can't run away. We
'll talk about it tomorrow." The three old men dispersed.
Only Rosier remained, sitting in the empty hall. She stared at the cross, clenching her hands in front of her, seemingly praying or muttering something to herself.
"...
A criminal gang that committed a major robbery in Edinburgh is fleeing towards our city..."
Inside a small hotel, a pretty female news anchor on an old-fashioned television was rattling off the local news.
Lynn and Professor Fawkes lay on their respective beds, discussing their current situation.
"Who did you consult? Professor Dumbledore?"
Fawkes shook his head.
"Of course not. Dumbledore isn't necessarily in England right now. He's an internationally renowned wizard.
There's been a lot of trouble in the Soviet Union lately, and the Ministry of Magic there is showing signs of disintegration. He's probably there helping to mediate."
"Who is he?"
"Alastor Moody, an Auror from the Ministry of Magic. We've had some dealings in the fight against dark wizards."
"How will he get the message to us? By Muggle mail?"
"I think he might use an owl. It's just absorbing the wizard's magic here; it shouldn't affect the owl."
Just then, a sound of something hard knocking on the glass suddenly rang out outside the hotel window. Lynn and Professor Fawkes turned to look.
An owl, carrying a letter, tilted its head and watched them from outside the window.
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(End of Chapter)