In other words, people like him can quickly take control of the situation wherever they go.

Fudge's face was not very happy. Dumbledore was like the Pope in the Middle Ages. As long as he existed, Fudge, the Minister of Magic, would be in name only and would not be respected!

Just like now, when Fudge proposed to hold the Quidditch World Cup as originally planned, many people present were skeptical, but as soon as Dumbledore spoke, those people immediately changed their attitudes and simply did not take him, the Minister of Magic, seriously! Fudge really wanted to slam the table and loudly tell Dumbledore:

I am the Minister of Magic!

But he didn't dare.

How dare he defy the greatest wizard? "Look, since Albus has said so, I don't think you will have any other opinions." Fudge's face showed a rich and kind expression, as if he and Dumbledore had such a close relationship.

But he looked at Dumbledore again, with an embarrassed expression on his face.

"Albus, please take a seat."

He took the initiative to stand up and give his seat to Dumbledore, then showed a sad expression and said earnestly: "As for the Triwizard Tournament, I think it's better not to... You know about Barty, right? He never came back after he went to France, poor old fellow..."

Old Barty Crouch was naturally killed after Voldemort was resurrected.

Neither Voldemort nor Barty Jr. would let him go.

Dumbledore had already learned about this from Harry, but the officials in the Ministry of Magic still thought that Crouch was assassinated by the Death Eaters he had tried that year.

Although Barty Crouch Sr. was considered to be unscrupulous in pursuit of power because of the trial of his own son, his current ending is regrettable. So much time has passed, and even the body has not been found yet, which makes many people feel sad.

"The Department of International Magical Affairs is currently being temporarily managed by Deputy Minister Dolores..." When Fudge said this, a middle-aged woman dressed in pink pursed her lips sweetly and pretended to cough once or twice, as if there was a mouthful of disgusting phlegm stuck in her throat.

She immediately attracted everyone's attention. The bright color was somewhat out of place in the magical world dominated by black, white and gray. It could even be said to be eye-catching!

Dumbledore glanced at her, his expression calm.

"Hello, Madam Umbridge."

"Hello, Mr. Dumbledore." Umbridge spoke in an uncomfortable tone, holding her throat. Even Scrimgeour and others who had worked with her for some time couldn't help but frown and show annoyed expressions.

But Dumbledore was very well-mannered. He kept smiling and looked at Umbridge kindly.

"I'm really sorry about the Triwizard Tournament, but now we have to put safety first." Umbridge's annoying eyes flashed with malice, "So, it's best to cancel it."

"That's very bad," Dumbledore looked embarrassed, but in fact he had already thought of a solution. He knew what Fudge wanted, and as for Umbridge, she was just a trumpet speaking for Fudge.

"Look, we proposed the Triwizard Tournament, and we have already reached an agreement with Durmstrang and Bubbleston. They have been preparing for this for several months. If we stop now, I don't know how the International Confederation of Wizards will view us. I'm afraid they will think that the British Ministry of Magic is doing nothing, changing its orders every day, and that the officials of the Ministry of Magic are incompetent..."

Fudge and Umbridge's faces immediately couldn't hold back their smiles.

"But on the other hand, if the Triwizard Tournament is successful enough, the reputation of the Ministry of Magic will also be enhanced. Cornelius, we all know that the performances of our team members have not been satisfactory over the years. I think people would like to see an exciting victory after losing the team!"

"Are you confident that you can win? Even if Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry joins the Triwizard Tournament?" Fudge couldn't help asking.

"I have always had confidence in the students of Hogwarts." Dumbledore nodded.

Fudge was obviously moved.

Compared to the Quidditch World Cup, which is held every four years, the Triwizard Tournament, which was discontinued hundreds of years ago, is obviously more eye-catching. By then, Cornelius Fudge's name will not only be left as a term of office in the history of the British wizarding world, but will be written as:

Cornelius Oswald Fudge became the British Minister of Magic in 1990. During his tenure, he tried his best to promote the ancient tradition of the Triwizard Tournament to start again, and led Hogwarts to victory together with Albus Dumbledore! "Ahem, okay," Fudge nodded, "I think what you said makes sense, Albus. But I hope Hogwarts can win."

"This is our common expectation." Dumbledore nodded, he stood up and prepared to leave, but he stopped before stepping out the door, as if he suddenly remembered something.

"By the way, the letter said that before the World Cup begins, the Magical Congress will send someone to the Ministry of Magic for negotiations and discussions. The specific time will be notified separately."

After saying this, Dumbledore really left.

At the same time, Cyrus also went to the Magical Congress of the United States to prepare for the Triwizard Tournament.

American wizards are very different from British wizards. In Britain, wizards live in isolation, most of them live in remote countryside, and only a small number live in remote towns where they live together with Muggles.

Even so, they would prevent Muggles from approaching their houses and avoid any contact with Muggles.

But most wizards in the American wizarding world live in cities, and even the Magical Congress is located in the Woolworth Building.

No one knows whether those people who walked into the Woolworth Building in a hurry with their heads down, wearing suits and ties, with briefcases tucked between their waists, are government officials or wizards.

Cyrus was not wearing a wizard robe today, but a thin suit. He had an upright figure, was tall, and his handsome appearance attracted people's attention, but his slightly arrogant look made people afraid to approach him.

It was as if he was a sun, a ball of fire, and touching him would only burn you! There was an endless stream of people coming and going at the entrance of the Woolworth Building, but most of them were middle-aged and elderly people in their forties or fifties or even older. There were not many young people like Cyrus.

But no one seemed to think there was anything wrong with Cyrus coming and going here.

It was as if he was born noble and was supposed to be the master of power!

The door of the building was enchanted, and only wizards could enter another dimension and reach the Magic Congress.

He chanted a spell, and the originally ordinary gate turned into a door with an owl sculpture carved on it.

Of course, this magic doesn't work every time, and occasionally some Muggles - called No-Maj in the United States - will mistakenly enter the Magic Congress. In this case, the wizards will give him a forgetfulness spell and then send him out.

As soon as Cyrus entered the door, he saw a huge and spacious square.

In the center of the square is a gray hollow tower.

The tower is not very tall, but every time the sun rises, the sunlight shines through the glass of the Woolworth Building and passes through the hollow space of the tower, as if it is a sacred road to heaven.

The golden sunlight sprinkled on Cyrus' hair, making him look like he was glowing.

Cyrus held out his wand.

The receptionist took the wand and examined it for a moment, frowning immediately, then picked up her wand and tapped a page of a book. The book immediately began to flip quickly, and soon turned from the beginning to the end without stopping for a moment.

The receptionist frowned and tried again, but the result was still no different.

This time, her tone became a little stiffer.

"I'm sorry, but this wand doesn't appear to be registered. I need to see your wand license. If you don't have a license, then I'll have to contact the Aurors."

In the American wizarding world, all wizards must obtain a license before they can own a wand. Due to historical reasons - a large number of European wizards and Muggles immigrated in the 17th century - this land was once very chaotic, with the Scourers kidnapping wizards or Muggles everywhere and causing a lot of damage.

To this end, the Magical Congress introduced regulations on wand licenses, which to a certain extent reduced the rampant Scourers.

"This is one of the reasons why I came to the Magic Congress, ma'am." Cyrus didn't have a license, but he didn't care at all. Rules are a game for the strong, and now he is willing to follow the rules, which is already a kindness.

If the people from the Magic Congress intended to make things difficult for him, Cyrus could also be tougher.

Anyway, the entire Magical Congress combined is no match for him.

"I recently obtained this ancient wand from Ilvermorny, but I haven't had time to register it yet."

"Ilvermorny? An ancient wand?" The lady who received Cyrus immediately widened her eyes.

She suddenly remembered the news published in the New York Ghost not long ago, saying that someone inherited the ancient Slytherin wand and became the heir of Ilvermorny. And this news has been confirmed by many parties. The only pity is that the reporter did not take a picture of the heir's face.

Now it seems that the dark green wand in her hand does look a little unusual.

It is slightly curved like a snake, with the snake's head as the handle and the tail as the tip. The snake's head is delicate and lifelike, and the eyes seem to be inlaid with gems.

It seemed like it would come alive at any moment and bite her back! She had always been a little attached to Cyrus' eyes, and now she wished she could grow directly on Cyrus' body: "So, you are Cyrus, the new headmaster of Ilvermorny?"

There was half suspicion in her eyes.

This is no wonder, after all, Cyrus looks too young.

He seemed to be only in his teens, with green and tender skin, and his handsome appearance was enough to make Cyrus a superstar in the No-Maj world.

The female receptionist would rather believe that Cyrus was a female official, or even a gigolo kept by a male official, and found it hard to believe that he was actually the principal of a magic academy.

"Sorry sir, I need to confirm first..." the receptionist said in a panic.

But just as she was about to pick up the phone, another voice interrupted her.

"Don't bother, Catherine."

A man wearing a white shirt and a suit vest walked over from a distance. He had his hands in his trouser pockets and looked very capable. His body under the shirt was muscular, and it was obvious at a glance that he was a wizard who was good at dueling.

Cyrus narrowed his eyes. He felt that the man's facial features looked somewhat familiar.

"Mr. Graves!"

The receptionist named Catherine stood up in surprise when she saw the newcomer and bowed respectfully to him. Cyrus, who heard the name, also guessed the identity of the person in front of him.

More than half a century ago, Grindelwald once disguised himself and lurked in the Magic Congress. The wizard he disguised himself as at that time was named Percival Graves.

Apparently, this man is a descendant of Percival Graves.

"Gareth Graves." The man walked up to Cyrus and stretched out his hand. His attitude was a little arrogant, as if he looked down on Cyrus. "Are you the one who inherited Ilvermorny?"

"Cyrus." Cyrus didn't care about Graves' attitude. On the contrary, he was actually a little looking forward to it.

The rise of the MACUSA is as fast as this country. Despite its short history, its influence in the wizarding world is growing. In comparison, the old British Ministry of Magic has long been on the decline, like an old man, already emitting a rotten smell.

It just so happens that Cyrus came from England, and there must be people in the Magic Congress who dislike him.

Something that rises strongly always comes with arrogance, not to mention a behemoth like the Magic Congress. Although Cyrus's current identity has been recognized by the teachers and students of the school, not everyone in the Congress may recognize his identity.

There will always be some ungrateful people who will cause trouble for him.

In fact, it is a good thing if there are really blind people who come to cause trouble. It is a good opportunity to beat them all in one go! They must first feel the pain, and then they will know what is sharp!

Since Cyrus intends to develop from North America, he does not want to see any discordant voices within the organization. He does not want to be like Dumbledore, who was clearly preparing to go to war with Voldemort, but the Ministry of Magic not only did not help, but became an obstacle.

At this moment, Cyrus narrowed his eyes, waiting for Graves to attack him.

But unexpectedly, Graves only glanced at the snakewood wand still in Catherine's hand, then raised his chin slightly, indicating Catherine to return the wand.

"Originally, we should have taken you to the Federal Wand Permit Issuing Office, but the situation is urgent, so it's best for us to go to the Major Crimes Investigation Department first."

Catherine blushed and was about to hand the wand back when another rough voice suddenly rang out.

“Wait!”

The sound was very loud and kept echoing in the empty hall of the Magic Congress, attracting the astonished attention of all the hurried office workers.

Cyrus looked in the direction of the sound and saw a middle-aged man in a windbreaker with a hideous scar on his face and a gloomy expression. He was striding towards them with several wizards. It was obvious that they had bad intentions.

(End of this chapter)