Joseph Poincaré is the former Director of the International Magical Cooperation Department of the French Ministry of Magic.
Since the death of his wife, he moved back to Strasbourg from Paris to his old house on the Rhine River to live alone. The wizarding war that year not only left countless wounds and tragedies, but also allowed him to make friends with a large number of foreign wizards.
Therefore, at the end of the war, he was temporarily transferred from the Auror Command to the French Department of International Magical Cooperation. This stay lasted for nearly thirty years, and he finally announced his retirement a few years ago.
Perhaps it was a habit he developed during the Wizarding War, but Joseph never tried to use magic to block information about his residence.
"The Ministry of Magic and I respect everyone's privacy and resting space," the old gentleman said more than once, "but there are twenty-four hours in a day, right? If something bad happens to you at night, no matter whether it is
Please help me, at least I have a cup of hot tea here—"
At the beginning, many people thought that Joseph was campaigning for his comeback to run for Minister of Magic.
However, as time went by, wizards in the French magical world began to believe in the old wizard's promises.
Whether it is a homeless wizard or a monster hunter who was accidentally injured in the middle of the night... when you pull the lantern hanging at the door of the old house on the banks of the Rhine in Strasbourg, there will always be a man in a nightgown.
The old man opens the door and hands you a cup of hot tea in the living room.
Of course, it's more than just hot tea. Decades of work in the Ministry of Magic have allowed Joseph to handle many things with ease.
"The Night Watchman of Strasbourg" - this was Joseph Poincaré's new nickname after his retirement.
Many wizards even suggested that the Ministry of Magic directly set up a "night watch" guard post.
"I personally think it is not necessary. The French wizarding world has been peaceful for half a century, and we will spend another half century."
Castel, the current Minister of the French Ministry of Magic, said in an interview, "The Ministry of Magic has very clear and clear working hours. If we promised to be on duty twenty hours, it would be chaos. Mr. Poincaré's approach is worth it
Respectfully, but his place should be called a 'hobo and drunkard's asylum' rather than an official 'night watch post'. Of course, you can also regard him as a half-night Auror - "
In fact, as Custer said, there were not many wizards knocking on Joseph's door at night.
Most of them are wandering wizards, or unlucky guys who were kicked out after quarreling, or even guys who came to find someone to talk to after failing to confess their love.
The only time Aurors were dispatched in an emergency was because a drunken wizard accidentally set his house on fire. However, before the wizards could arrive at the scene, the Muggle fire brigade extinguished the flames first - from the point of view of the effect,
A high-pressure water gun is not much worse than a clear spring of water.
Therefore, on this slightly cold night, when Joseph was woken up by a quick knock on the door, he thought another drunk guy had caused some trouble.
As usual, he got up from the bed, randomly found a nightgown and put it on, then raised the cane placed by the bedside and waved it.
The fire in the living room lit up silently, dispelling the darkness and coldness lingering in the house.
Joseph walked into the living room, skillfully commanding the kettle or boiling water, and opened the door.
"Good evening. Let's find a warm place to sit by the fireplace--"
The old wizard said gently without looking back. Old Joseph was about to celebrate his eightieth birthday. Although many of his former subordinates and friends thought it would be dangerous for him to receive strangers like this, he didn't think it was anything. After all, he
There is nothing in the house worth stealing or robbing.
"It's too late for tea, Mr. Poincaré! Something terrible has happened!"
At this moment, a panicked voice sounded behind him, which sounded a bit like...
"Frank?! Why are you here?"
Joseph subconsciously turned his head and looked at the wizard who appeared at his door in surprise.
Frank Martin, current director of the Department of International Magical Cooperation.
"We don't have time to explain so much, sir, we need to contact Secretary Custer and Director Bernard immediately -"
Frank said quickly and breathlessly. He was still wearing striped pajamas under his wizard cloak and looked like he had run all the way from Paris.
"It's unbelievable - just now - just a few minutes ago, nearly a hundred British Aurors rushed into our Ministry of Magic hall! - My God - you can't even imagine their reasons - they said they wanted to fight with us
The Aurors gathered together to attack the Armenian magical world - this - I didn't know that there was such a thing before - this kind of thing is too terrible - whether it is true or not - right -?"
"Calm down, Frank, first of all...are you sure you are from the British Ministry of Magic?"
"Of course! The leader of those British wizards is Cornelius Fudge, the British Minister of Magic. Oh my God - do they want to start a secret war? What do we do now? The worst part is that it is off duty now.
, I can’t contact anyone except you at all..."
"I understand, no matter what, this is indeed a big deal."
Joseph Puengale nodded, his expression instantly became solemn.
As the old wizard spoke, he glanced at his successor who was still wearing a nightgown and slippers, frowned, and waved his wand to summon two sets of velvet shirts from the closet above, "But before that, you first put on your clothes."
Change, if it involves negotiating with other Ministry of Magic, your current image is really embarrassing, and there are many leather shoes at the door. In five minutes, I will go to the Ministry of Magic with you to have a look..."
…………
Meanwhile, England, the Crouch family bedroom.
"Master, master, wake up quickly——"
Barty Crouch suddenly woke up, surrounded by darkness.
At first, Crouch Sr. thought he woke up occasionally in the middle of the night.
Then he suddenly realized that someone was carefully pushing his shoulder in the dark and calling his name timidly.
"Go away!" He waved his arms impatiently and frowned heavily, "Twinkle?! What are you doing?!"
"Urgent letters, owner - the Ministry of Magic, foreign ones, the Daily Prophet..."
The house elf Winky stared at those two big tennis ball-like eyes, looking particularly frightened. Only then did Barty Crouch notice that she was holding several letters in her hand, "Winky didn't want to disturb your rest, Master.
But the owls kept flying over, and Shining was scared..."
Barty Crouch sat up quickly and snatched the letter from the house elf.
"Turn on the light," Crouch said, frowning at the pile of letters. "What the hell is going on—"
Tuk-tuk-tuk——
At this moment, there was a rapid knocking sound outside the window.
Barty Crouch and the house elf Twinkle turned their heads at the same time, and saw a fat snow-white owl anxiously banging against the window of Crouch's house, and under its talons, a red letter seemed to have been