Hogwarts: Even Voldemort Can't Stop Me From Studying

Chapter 1087: Chapter 174: Stepping onto the Battlefield of Washington

”Rescue?” Vid chuckled, ”I think Professor Abigail doesn’t need me to rescue her—those Scourers, though ’companions,’ seem unaware of her strength.”

Elise asked, ”So your next focus is still the Stonefield Clan?”

Vid was silent for a moment, deep in thought.

Bloren entered the estate and currently appears to have no intention of leaving, and William Stonefield seems extremely cautious.

Vid’s poppets have been monitoring for several days but haven’t discovered any intention of him meeting Yodel Bronlin or contacting other members of Prometheus.

Yet, the inside of the estate isn’t as calm as it appears on the surface.

After some time, once they confirm the tightly wound tension of the Magic Congress eases, something interesting will likely occur.

If staying in New York, the biggest excitement seems to be at the Magic Congress, but Vid doesn’t plan to get involved in that.

After a moment, Vid shook his head and said, ”Since Prometheus is also in Washington, and William Stonefield’s eldest son appears to be there, I still want to go and see.”

”Besides...” He sported a subtle smile, ”I have a friend there.”

Elise raised her brow slightly, ”When do we set off?”

Vid stopped walking and glanced to his right.

Over there is a sizeable side hall, lined with two rows of fireplaces against the wall, numbering five to six dozen, with green flames continuously rising, wizards hurriedly coming and going.

Vid said, ”Right now.”

He has no luggage to pack; the important items are with him.

There are some odds and ends in the hotel room, which Vilan can help tidy up.

Elise was surprised, ”So soon?”

Then she said, ”Follow me then... our family has a private fireplace, saving the Congress’s cumbersome registration and inspection.”

She turned on her heel, leading Vid through a carpeted corridor. The room at the end was furnished like a reception room, and against the wall was a large fireplace with a stone platform beside it, holding a full basin of Floo Powder.

Looking at the fireplace, Vid couldn’t help but glance at Elise.

—Wasn’t it said that ”if people from the Vanderbilt Family use the Floo Network to reach the Magic Congress, it would tarnish the family’s image”?

It seemed Elise had forgotten her prior words; she tucked loose hair behind her ear and turned, earnestly asking Vid:

”Where is your friend in Washington?”

”He only said he went to Washington,” Vid replied, ”But it’s unclear which area.”

”Then we’ll first head to a place where wizards gather, and then you can ask around,” Elise suggested.

Vid pointed his Magic Wand, already lighting the fireplace, and stopped, turned and asked, ”We?”

”Yes!” Elise playfully blinked her eyes, ”You already know, right? With me, Miss Vanderbilt, accompanying you, you can navigate many places unhindered!”

She grabbed a pinch of Floo Powder and sprinkled it into the fireplace.

Boom!

The flames in the fireplace instantly turned emerald green, casting their faces in a glowing green hue.

Elise sidestepped, smiled at Vid, and then confidently stepped into the shimmering green flames:

”Washington, Wizard’s United Club!”

...

”Dragon liver! Fresh Hungarian Horntail dragon liver! Last one, selling at a loss for a Silver Sickle!”

”Look at this Protective Talisman! It warns of evil intentions! Keeps you safe!”

”Liar! I bought one from you last week, and it didn’t respond at all when my wife yelled at me!”

”That’s because your wife’s feelings for you aren’t evil—they’re the truth! Sir!”

The calls of vendors, bargaining, arguing, and laughter intertwined chaotically, full of primal energy, yet Elise stood frozen.

Leaving the Wizard’s United Club building, outside there was a circle of tall trees forming a natural barrier.

Exiting the dense woods, they seemed to step into a corner forgotten by time.

Beneath their feet were somewhat muddy ground dotted with wild grass; the air mixed with scents of earth, smoked sausages, cheap beer, a peculiar spice, hay, livestock, and the warm presence of people.

Colorful tents stood haphazardly arrayed; the open space filled with crude wooden stalls displaying glimmering crystal balls, disheveled, vacant-looking owls, and some suspiciously shaped Magic Potion Materials.

—Including undeveloped carrots, seemingly freshly plucked apple branches, and fist-sized cactus balls.

Wizards dressed as if they emerged from medieval tomes, clamoring, haggling, forming a chaotic outdoor market.

Vid looked at Elise beside him.

This well-traveled Miss Vanderbilt was visibly stunned, her eyebrows furrowed, quickly scanning the surroundings, evidently completely unprepared for what she was witnessing.

Vid pondered for a moment, ”Did we mess up the Floo destination?”

”We shouldn’t have...” Elise said puzzled, ”We just came out of the Wizard’s Club... but this place doesn’t match what I remember...”

Before she finished speaking, a bigger commotion erupted from the depths of the market.

A group of people wearing ragged chainmail armor, wielding sticks, and using pot lids as shields dashed past them, faces smeared with greasepaint, shouting oaths that lacked any intimidation:

”For glory! Charge!”

”Crush those Northerners!”

Soon, another group dressed in ancient wizard robes rushed toward them, and the two sides quickly ”battled.”

Spell sparks shot everywhere, yet they were all flashy but ineffective magic; dazzling beams burst from the tips of Magic Wands but had no destructive power.

However, those hit by the beams perform exaggerated wails, some even flying several meters.

More people engaged in clumsy, uncoordinated ”melee,” sticks pounding on pot lids with ”thump-thump” sounds, occasionally spurting ”blood.”

”Cut!”

A loud shout suddenly exploded, and Vid looked toward the source, seeing a few people seated amid giant tents and stalls.

Someone shouldered a Muggle camera; another held a paper script, yet another used a ”Loud Voice” Spell, shouting:

”That shot is done! Everyone, take ten-minute break!”

Immediately, those who were ”fighting” to death instantly stopped, contorted expressions flipped to gleeful:

”Hey, was my ’Killing Curse’ smoke realistic enough?”

”Oh please! You should’ve seen my curse-induced fall; it was award-worthy acting!”

”Makeup artist! Quickly help me touch up my makeup; the sweat smeared my greasepaint!”

”Our scene’s over; how about some drinks tonight? The malt beer here is really good!”

A group noisily moved to the edge of the field, where several witches holding powder puffs and mirrors appeared. Others gathered, cheerfully critiquing each other’s exaggerated performances.

A young warrior swinging a scimitar dashed past the two, inadvertently turning his head, stopping abruptly, and exclaimed in surprise:

”Elise! By Merlin, what brings you here?”