Hogwarts: Voldemort, don't stop me from studying

Chapter 990 The Ceremony Restart
Several days later, the central courtyard of the Magic Congress headquarters was once again decorated anew, and the chairman's inauguration ceremony was restarted. The explosion, bloodstains, and death that occurred not long ago seemed as if they had never happened.

The atmosphere was no longer joyful and enthusiastic; a cautious calm permeated the air, even carrying a lingering sense of unease.

The guests at the ceremony all looked solemn, as if attending a funeral. Some even glanced around anxiously, seemingly prepared for any unexpected turn of events.

Meanwhile, many of the faces that had appeared earlier had completely disappeared, and there were many people who had just qualified to participate, their expressions clearly showing their unease, and their clothes appearing even more shabby.

Clinch Barrett stood solemnly on the restored podium, wearing a well-fitting and simple presidential robe, with a badge pinned to his chest gleaming.

His speech was amplified by magic and transmitted throughout the country, and even the world, via a teleportation system.

"Over the past few weeks, we have collectively endured an unprecedented test, severely damaging the credibility and foundation of the Magic Congress. But fortunately, as the darkness was revealed, the forces of integrity and resilience never faded..."

……

The White Bridge Inn was as full of guests as ever. Wizards held beers or were eating breakfast, but their eyes were all fixed on the magnified mirror.

Barrett's voice echoed throughout the lobby:

"As interim coordinator, entrusted with the trust and support of the people and my congressional colleagues, I will shoulder the heavy responsibility of leading Congress through this difficult period..."

The guests were talking in hushed tones:

"Things are going a bit too smoothly... The new chairman doesn't seem to have much drive!"

“Isn’t being proper better than anything else?” A bespectacled witch sighed, stirring her tea in her cup. “Lyra Picqueli is certainly charismatic, but her aggressive delivery during her speeches was off-putting to me.”

“Yes,” another older male wizard chimed in, his voice weary. “I don’t expect them to do anything big. I’ll just be grateful if they don’t cause any more of these earth-shattering disasters every few days, so I can work in peace and the children can go to school in peace.”

“At least for now, those arrogant guys who always want to ‘specially investigate’ have toned it down a lot,” a wizard who looked like a businessman at another table added in a low voice.

A middle-aged man asked, "And what about the professors at Iphamoni? I heard that most of them were dismissed. Have you heard about that?"

“Absolutely,” another witch said dismissively. “If you ask me, anyone involved in such an inhuman act, or anyone who knew about it but didn’t report it, should be sent to prison and never come out again!”

"Who should we report this to?" A red-haired man raised an eyebrow and said, "Lyra Picqueli? They're in cahoots! Anyone who dares to report this will probably be thrown into jail."

A young man in his early twenties immediately craned his neck and said loudly, "But if Chairman Hawthorne knew, he certainly wouldn't have let it go! If he had known what Leila Picqueli and Fontana were like, perhaps he wouldn't have been deceived by them!"

A silence fell over the hotel. After a long while, someone said with a mixture of regret and nostalgia:
"President Hawthorne... I wonder where he is now? Have you heard about the changes in Congress?"

……

“Did you hear that?” Antoine, holding a glass of wine, sat down next to an elderly man who looked like a retired scholar and said casually, “People are starting to remember your good deeds. Don’t you want to go back?”

Nicklo Hawthorne disguised himself as an elderly man with gray hair, sitting in a corner by the window with a nearly untouched glass of mead and a simple breakfast in front of him.

Beside him sat a baby chair, where round-headed baby Hughes was playing with a bell, babbling and occasionally making a crisp "ding-a-ling" sound.

Hearing Antoine's words, Hawthorne gave a self-deprecating laugh and said, "Go back? Where can I go back to?"

Antoine looked at Liu Jing and said softly, "Don't you want to stand up again? With your current reputation, as long as you show up and raise your voice, most people will probably still support you to replace Barrett. Even Mr.... might agree."

Hawthorne's gaze shifted from the mirror to the reflection in the glass in front of him. He slowly shook his head and said in a hoarse voice:
"I won't go back."

Antoine was about to say something when he suddenly shut his mouth.

The hotel owner, who always looked listless, was now cheerfully carrying a tray and personally serving the guests a large plate of free snacks.

"Try it!" he said, his face lighting up. "It's freshly baked, it's on me."

"In such a good mood?" Antoine casually grabbed a cookie and popped it into his mouth, asking indistinctly, "Has something good happened lately?"

"Haha," the hotel owner laughed, "It's definitely a good thing—the person who used to always cause me trouble has finally disappeared."

In the past, people from the Congressional Security Service, as well as some rough-and-tumble Aurors, treated his place as a free intelligence station. They not only demanded that he record travelers' information and provide intelligence to Congress, but also frequently criticized him for some oversights, even threatening him with things like "thoroughly searching the hotel" or "revoking his license."

Most importantly, they really will do it.

Meanwhile, despite all that he had done, they hadn't paid him a single nut! At this moment, those days of constant anxiety and being manipulated by power were gone overnight with the downfall of the congressional leadership. He was now completely relaxed and smiled more often when facing guests.

After the hotel owner left, Hawthorne whispered:

"I think this boss probably doesn't want me to go back to that position, and there are many ordinary people like him."

He paused for a moment, recalling the day of Lyra's inauguration, when he had accompanied Grindelwald and was also watching from the audience.

He observed that even after Rita Skeeter exposed Lyra's collusion with Muggle elites, betrayal of the wizarding world's interests, and human trafficking, and presented irrefutable evidence, many people still hesitated, remained skeptical, and harbored wishful thinking.

But when the "dual documents" were exposed, when people discovered that Leila had genuinely harmed their own interests—some of which was merely by refusing to approve two or three days of leave—the anger, the feeling of betrayal, the intense emotions and reactions...

Hawthorne shook his head, his fingers unconsciously tracing the rim of his glass, his mind churning with the reflections that had kept him awake at night these past few days.

“I am not...the good leader they think I am, Mr. Moreau. I have made great mistakes in the past.”

He said in a low, heavy voice, "I was too confident and too arrogant! Sitting in the chairman's office, I actually thought that every instruction I issued would be carried out without fail."

"I was deceived by the respectful attitude and carefully prepared reports of my cronies, and never really got to know the grassroots government employees and the people."

“I should roll up my sleeves and go to the Auror patrol points to ask if the frontline personnel lack protective equipment; go to the Archives to see if those old cases have been dealt with; and listen to those poor wizarding families to find out what suggestions they have for the governance of Parliament.”

“I am not a qualified chairman. I will lose everything, not just because of Leila and their conspiracy... and I still have a lot to learn.”

Antoine offered neither comfort nor rebuttal, but simply smiled faintly.

After saying these words, Hawthorne seemed to have let go of some burden. He picked up his glass, drank the rest of his mead in one gulp, and then stood up, saying, "It's time to go."

The baby Hughes in the car next to them immediately raised his arm, and Hawthorne bent down and picked him up.

“No rush,” Antoine said. “We still need to wait for one more person.”

Hawthorne raised an eyebrow and asked, "Is it Derain?"

“How could that be?” Antoine said with a smile, “That guy is even leading a group of people around Cape Adam!”

As they were talking, a young man came down the stairs from the second floor.

He looked to be in his early twenties, with black hair, brown eyes, and delicate features. He was dressed simply, but his gaze was remarkably calm.

Antoine immediately stood up, beaming as he went to greet him, and asked familiarly, "Everything's settled? You didn't get scolded, did you?"

"Are you looking forward to it?" the young man said jokingly.

"Ha! I thought you weren't going to make it back this time!" Antoine said, half-jokingly and half-seriously.

Hawthorne's gaze followed Antoine's, landing on the unfamiliar young man, curious about his identity.

Antoine leaned closer to the other man, whispered something, and pointed to Hawthorne who was walking over.

As Hawthorne approached, he saw the man nod slightly and say, "I know, the sir already told me."

Antoine asked, "Can it work?"

The young man said, "There shouldn't be any problem."

“Alright, let’s go.” Antoine gestured for Hawthorne to proceed, then asked the young man, “Aren’t you going to say goodbye to that lady?”

“There’s no need,” the young man said in an unusually cold tone. “They’ve already gotten what they wanted.”

The three of them walked out of the hotel together.

In the mirror above the fireplace, Clinch Barrett's speech continued:
"The road ahead is not smooth, but I believe that through pragmatic work, sincere communication, and a shared commitment to the International Law of Secrecy and the well-being of wizards, we can and will emerge from the shadows and build a stronger and more just Magical Congress..."

(End of this chapter)