Seeing the appearance of the young man who walked in through the back door, the Aurors in the bar hall lowered their vigilance in their hearts, and dropped their wands one after another.

In the Ministry of Magic, in addition to the Department of Mysteries, the Auror Office is probably a relatively confidential department, and the job of the people here is not to sit in the office, but to carry out tasks outside all year round, arresting criminals or dark wizards with a high degree of danger.

So, although Amosta doesn't appear less frequently in the Ministry of Magic, not two of the Aurors who blocked the Cauldron actually got close to Amosta Blaine. Of course, they've heard a lot in the newspapers and rumors.

The Aurors on the mission did not smile, and they watched as Amosta Bryne walked in, all expressionless, but the core of their indifferent eyes was different.

Some people have curiosity hidden in the depths of their eyes, some people are reverence, and some are looking at Brian with eager eyes.

Those who can do the profession of Auror have some aggressive and unyielding elements hidden in their blood, although this small number of Aurors know in their hearts that they cannot be Amosta Bryan's opponent, but they resist the desire not to fight Brian.

But Amosta, bathed in a lot of strange eyes, was still calm, and even with a friendly smile on his lips, he passed past several Aurors and made his way to Kingsley at the bar.

"You're coming quickly, Mr. Blaine—" Kingsley nodded at Amosta.

"You know I happen to be nearby, Kingsley--"

Amosta said gently, he smiled at Kingsley, and then, suddenly remembering something, he turned his head to look at the Aurors in the hall, and looked at the faces one by one, and couldn't help but feel a little strange,

"What about Sirius and Tonks?"

"They've been assigned to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Injuries and Injuries—" Kingsley said in a deep voice.

If Tom didn't know what was going on, he was really stupid, but he didn't understand that the Ministry of Magic might have known that he occasionally smuggled some contraband, or bought some alcohol from unknown sources at a low price, but what would alarm Amosta Bryne at Hogwarts?

"Mr. Blaine"

When the lilac eyes were on him, Tom said tremblingly, his back pressed against the wine rack against the wall, the only way to keep standing barely and with a look of almost crying.

"Ah, hello, Tom—"

Amosta's smile made Kingsley, who was observing his expression, a little incomprehensible, and in his opinion, it would be more appropriate for Amosta Bryan to be thunderous.

"We don't have to be so tense, do we?"

Seeing Tom's grim appearance, Amosta turned to look at the group of Aurors on guard behind him.

Kingsley pursed his lips and waved at his men, and then, the silent Aurors each looked at each other, their shoulders slightly lowered, and each found a place to sit, but his eyes were still on the bar owner and the front and back doors of the bar.

"Doesn't it feel better now, Tom?" Amosta smiled and looked at Tom, who was about to cry without tears, and then asked,

"By the way, Kingsley, did you tell Tom what you were here for?"

"Not yet, Mr. Blaine—"

Kingsley doesn't smile,

"As soon as we found out that the package was coming from here, we immediately blocked it and sent you a message, and I thought, maybe you'll want to know how the interrogation went--"

Interrogation—Old Tom, who had just calmed down, suddenly trembled like a sieve, and unconsciously flashed in front of his eyes a terrible creature wearing a black cloak that would absorb the good memories of life.

Parcel?!

Then the word popped into old Tom's mind, and he froze, as if to find the heart of the matter, and he looked at Amosta Blaine, and then heard the big young man smile at him peacefully, and spoke to him.

"I don't want to make a fuss about the wizarding world, and I don't want to disturb your business, Tom, so, let's cut it short—"

Amosta pulled open a high stool by the bar, pressed his palm on the bar and sat down.

"Do you have someone here to help you send and receive packages, Tom?"

Sure enough, it had something to do with the package, old Tom shouted in his heart, and he also realized that there must be a big problem with one of the packages he sent!

"You know, Mr. Blaine--"

Old Tom said in a breathless tone with tears in his eyes, as if his neck was being choked, "I-I have a lot of people passing by here every day, some wizards are in a hurry, he-they'll ask Old Tom to help deliver the package to the post office, oh, some people will mail things directly here, and guests will come and pick them up-"

"Where's the package?" Kingsley immediately said, "I need to check--"

Old Tom pointed to a small and inconspicuous room next to the kitchen, and then the two Aurors in the hall stood up silently, and took out the speculum and the dark magic detector from their trouser pockets, and walked quickly to the small room.

"I'm sure you've guessed, Tom--"

Amosta pulled a couple of silver cocos out of his pocket and placed them on the bar, and then, on the wine rack behind Old Tom, a dark bottle flew down smoothly and poured sherry into a glass that Amosta picked up.

Taking a sip of the list of sweet sherry, Amosta said gently,

"In order to avoid panic spreading, the Ministry of Magic ordered the Daily Prophet not to report on the matter - just yesterday, a fourth-year witch at Hogwarts received a package from the Hogsmeade post office containing powerful dark magic items, which directly led to the students receiving the package being sent to St. Mungo, and until now it has not been completely out of danger, and at the same time, several Hogsmeade villagers and many young wizards have received varying injuries in this incident--"

Amosta paused, and then said to the stunned old Tom,

"Now, the Ministry of Magic has investigated and found out that this package came from you, Tom, is there anything you want to tell us about this?"

The silence in the bar lasted for tens of seconds before Tom Sr. suddenly jumped to his feet under the gaze of Amosta and the many Aurors.

For the next few minutes, the mad old Tom spat out and cursed with the most vicious curse the man who left the package, greeting each of the elders who were related to him one by one.

The corners of the Aurors' mouths twitched at this comical scene.

"Is there something wrong with Miss Hermione Granger's package, Mr. Brian?"

Old Tom stopped scolding unexpectedly, and he suddenly looked at Ah Blanket and asked cautiously.

Kingsley's brow furrowed suddenly, and Amosta straightened his posture and asked with interest,

"Do you have an image of that package, Tom?"

"It's really that package!"

Old Tom gritted his teeth and said,

"Of course I do, Mr. Blaine—"

After a few deep gasps, Tom swallowed and said,

"That was more than half a month ago, Mr. Bryan, and one night a strange guy came in at the front door of the bar—"

"Strange guy?"

"Yes, that's right, Mr. Blaine—"

Old Tom fell into the memory, "A scruffy young man, dressed like a Muggle. You know, a lot of people on our side aren't that savvy about Muggle dressing, but the guy was dressed like that, I mean, like a Muggle-"

Old Tom turned around and got himself a glass of whiskey, and after drinking it all, he gasped and continued,

"--Of course, not only did he wear a statue, but he also wore Muggle sunglasses, you know what sunglasses are, Mr. Bryan?"

Amosta nodded thoughtfully,

"You mean, he shows up at your bar at night, but with sunglasses, right?"

"That's right, that's it!"

Old Tom was glad that Amosta Blaine understood what he meant at once, and he continued,

"The guy gave me two Galleons and asked me to mail him a package, he said, he's a fan of Miss Hermione Granger, it's a gift for her, it's not a big deal, it's happened in the past, but, he made a request--"

"What is it?" Kingsley immediately asked.

"--He wanted me to leave this package in the bar for a few days, he explained, and since it was Christmas holidays, Miss Hermione Granger might be home, and he hoped to send it to her when school started.

Well, he doesn't want to leave his address and name with me, you know, Mr. Blaine, if the mail is never accepted, the post office will return it, and I usually leave the guest's address so that I can return the package to them, but the man said to me, if the package is returned, just throw it away."

(End of chapter)