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The cellar fell into a thoughtful silence as Newt's inquiry echoed in the air. The basilisk, its body sprawled across the floor, trembled with each breath beneath the oppressiveness of the Fiendfyre collar that encircled its neck.
Wright twisted its enormous tongue slowly with desperate hunger, analyzing the complex scents that filled the underground chamber.
Through this primitive but effective sensory navigation, it focused itself toward Bryan's position. Its eyes now appeared as milky, blemished spheres. The wounds inflicted by Fawkes's claws had long since healed into thick, ropey scars that crisscrossed its face like a spider's web.
'Return the crest to the basilisk once it loses its effect?'
The thought rolled through Bryan's mind. His eyebrows rose in a subtle arch of surprise. The request was unexpected, certainly, but as he considered it more deeply, a growing sense of admiration began to appear in his chest.
This was precisely why Newt Scamander had achieved such unprecedented success in his field, why his name was spoken with respect in magical zoology circles across the globe, and why creatures that had terrorized entire communities would eventually come to trust him.
Unlike so many others in the wizarding world who viewed dangerous creatures just as obstacles to be overcome, threats to be eliminated, or at best, resources to be harvested, Newt viewed them as equals deserving of respect, understanding, and compassion.
Even Hagrid, with all his genuine love for magical creatures and his endless enthusiasm for their care, couldn't quite match Newt's empathy. Hagrid's affection, while sincere and warmhearted, often came from an innocent childish wonder that sometimes blinded him to the creatures' true needs and natural behaviors.
Bryan's purple eyes shifted to look at the basilisk with new consideration.
After moments of contemplation, Bryan made a decisive gesture. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the ring of Fiendfyre or SpiritFire that had been constraining Wright.
"Very well," Bryan said and nodded. "I agree. If Slytherin's crest becomes useless to me, I will return it to you."
This promise delighted the basilisk, and it gratefully lowered its beast-like head toward Bryan.
Placing the crest into the space pouch in his robes, Bryan surveyed the thoroughly disheveled cellar and pursed his lips. His eyes flashed with scrutiny once more. He didn't help restore the place to its original state—that wouldn't be difficult for Newt to handle but was instead thinking about something else entirely.
"I must be leaving—" Bryan said suddenly, his voice cutting through the contemplative silence. But instead of immediately leaving, he turned his attention once more to the basilisk.
"Would you prefer to come with me, or continue staying here with Mr. Scamander?"
'Leave with Bryan Watson?'
The basilisk raised up its head in surprise, completely unprepared for such a request. After the initial shock passed, the basilisk found itself genuinely hesitating.
Though this wizard in front of it wasn't a descendant of Salazar, he was indeed an extraordinarily powerful wizard. In its thousand years of dormancy in the castle, few could match his magical prowess—even in the era of the four founders, such individuals had been rare.
But then, as if remembering something terrible, the basilisk's massive body shuddered violently. It quickly shook its head, fearing that if it failed to meet his expectations, this wizard might fly into a rage and torment it with rings of fire again. The basilisk swiftly slithered behind Newt, lowering its head submissively.
Seeing it so frightened, even Newt couldn't help but feel amused.
"Very well, since you wish to remain with Newt, I won't force you—" Bryan clicked his tongue, sounding somewhat disappointed.
Though this basilisk was blind and had lost its greatest weapon, the magical power accumulated within its body had granted it a physique even stronger than a dragon's. Moreover, it possessed scales with extremely high magical resistance—ordinary spells couldn't even penetrate its scaly armor. It would have made an excellent assistant.
He had been thinking that since Voldemort had a snake called Nagini, and Dumbledore had Fawkes, he too should acquire a magical creature to enhance his prestige. However, on second thought, if he truly took the basilisk under his command, should they encounter Voldemort on a future battlefield, whose orders it would actually follow remained questionable!
"I've heard—"
When Newt and Bryan returned to the surface one after the other, night had fallen outside. The canopy displaying the external sky's scenery revealed billions of stars forming a silver ribbon across the heavens—this was the grassland scene, while the adjacent deep rainforest was experiencing artificial rainfall, with thunder and lightning echoing across the land.
Standing in the backyard of the wooden house, the two men observed this spectacle for a while. Newt looked at Bryan beside him—this young wizard whom he neither particularly liked nor disliked, but who undoubtedly possessed strong personal characteristics like Albus.
"Regarding your joint review meeting, it will convene the day after tomorrow. Graves and several department heads from MACUSA will conduct inquiries about your project?"
"That's correct." Bryan nodded slightly.
"You don't seem particularly worried?"
Newt blinked his clear eyes and perceptively asked, "Do you believe you can pass this hurdle, or do you think you're destined to fail?"
After consideration, Bryan replied, "Given the current circumstances, Remus and I will likely face some difficulties, but whether we can advance this matter depends on the outcome of the day after tomorrow's discussions. Though we haven't communicated with them in advance, the International Magical Cooperation Department undoubtedly hopes the collaboration can be achieved.
This is, at its core, a win-win business arrangement. They can equally gain significant political achievements from facilitating successful international magical cooperation, while also generating substantial tax revenue that will benefit the entire American magical community.
If the International Magical Cooperation Department doesn't support this business venture, the only logical possibility I can imagine is that they hope to gain more favorable terms through the negotiation process."
Bryan continued his analysis.
"These matters should have ideally reached consensus through private negotiations before the review meeting. However, Graves's side seems reluctant to have me appear too active in the pre-negotiation phase. The only thing I remain uncertain about is Graves's true intentions, and he seems deliberately unwilling to meet with me for direct discussion."
"He's indeed a wizard with very severe 'partisanship'," Newt responded with equal frustration.
"Based on my experience dealing with him over these past weeks, he didn't want me involved in tracking those missing magical creature incidents. Perhaps because of my international reputation and the political pressure from European magical authorities, he reluctantly agreed to let me join the investigation, but only very reluctantly."
Newt's voice took on a tone of professional irritation that was rare for him.
"They don't share any significant information with me, and they equally ignore my suggestions, even when those suggestions are based on decades of specialized experience with exactly the types of creatures they're trying to track. It's as if they view outside expertise as a threat to their institutional authority rather than a valuable resource."
'Partisanship.'
Bryan pondered over Newt's said phrase, rolling the concept through his mind and examining it from multiple angles.
As Bryan processed this new insight, he felt another piece of the puzzle surrounding his American operations click into place.
When Bryan Apparated back to the hotel, Remus was hunched over the desk, struggling with a pile of materials they had brought.
With the joint review meeting approaching, Remus felt increasingly nervous, which was why he had declined Bryan's invitation to visit Newt together, choosing instead to remain at the hotel to familiarize himself with the materials to avoid any mishaps during the review.
The disturbance from Bryan's Apparition startled Remus from his immersion in the documents. He looked up at Bryan, but seeing the latter's gaze had already moved away from him toward the sofa, Remus pursed his lips and lowered his head again.
"Oh, you've been discharged already?" Bryan's voice carried genuine surprise as he addressed someone in the sitting area.
Looking toward the seating arrangement near the suite's large windows, Bryan saw Amelia rising from the sofa where she had apparently been reading. Her appearance had a clear improvement from the last time he had seen her in the hospital, the paleness of illness had been replaced by healthy color.
She was dressed in casual but fashionable clothing: a light green knit sweater over a white T-shirt, paired with sky-blue skinny jeans. In her hands, she held what appeared to be a magical textbook.
Bryan raised his eyebrows in an expression of pleasant surprise, then gave a warm, welcoming smile.
"Why didn't you rest a few more days at the hospital?" He continued. "Are you so eager to return to monitoring me? I told you I'd behave myself, didn't I?"
Amelia had indeed come to understand Bryan's character during their various interactions, recognizing that he sometimes used small jokes and gentle teasing as a way of maintaining social connection while avoiding more serious or potentially uncomfortable topics.
Rather than being offended by his suggestion that she was eager to resume surveillance duties, she simply smiled with pursed lips.
"My healer believes I've fully recovered, And I requested permission from Mr. Graves, who also agreed to let me return to work."
The mention of Graves brought a subtle shift to Bryan's expression, though he maintained his pleasant demeanor.
"I see—" Bryan responded with a casual smile.
He walked to the wine rack, opened a bottle of sherry, and poured a glass. Just as he was about to offer it to Amelia, he remembered she had just been discharged from the hospital, so he tasted it himself instead.
"And your parents?" Bryan continued the conversation while savoring the wine's flavor. "Have they returned home? I imagine they're reluctant to try using the Floo Network again?"
"Actually, they did return home through St. Josiah's Floo Network this afternoon," Amelia replied. "They were eager to get back to make preparations, um..."
Bryan listened attentively to Amelia's words, but suddenly noticed her hesitant expression and became curious.
"What's wrong? What are they preparing for? A vacation?"
"Oh, no—" Amelia's response came quickly, almost reflexively.
A rosy flush appeared on Amelia's pale cheeks. She avoided Bryan's gaze and stammered, unable to speak clearly.
Honestly, regarding her parents' request, Amelia found herself caught in a web of conflicting emotions that made clear communication nearly impossible. On one hand, she genuinely felt pleased by the invitation her parents wanted to extend—she truly did hope to spend more time with and learn from a wizard of Bryan's caliber and reputation.
The opportunity to observe and interact with someone of his magical abilities and worldly experience was genuinely exciting from both personal and professional perspectives. Few wizards of her generation had the chance to work closely with a powerful wizard like Bryan.
But simultaneously, she was deeply embarrassed by the circumstances surrounding the invitation and worried about how Bryan might interpret her parents' eager hospitality. The timing was suspicious, she realized—her parents inviting Bryan for dinner after having met him only once, and under such circumstances, was indeed quite unusual and could easily be misinterpreted.
In the traditional magical communities of both Britain and America, such rapid social development often meant occasions that went beyond simple hospitality. Parents who invited young witches or wizards to family dinners after brief acquaintances were often thought of having matchmaking intentions for their sons/daughters, regardless of their actual motives.
The possibility that Bryan might view her parents' invitation through this lens filled Amelia with embarrassment. Yet she also couldn't simply ignore her parents' request or fail to deliver their invitation.
"What is it?" Bryan asked again. He set down his wine glass and looked at Amelia under the soft chandelier light, his voice filled with more concern.
"Actually, it's like this—" Amelia took a breath, steadying her expression and nervous emotions.
"Well, my parents hope to invite you for dinner at our home, Mr. Watson,"
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