bacchusnovels Chapter 218 Assistant's Assistant
Chapter 218 Assistant's Assistant
Chapter 218 Assistant's Assistant
When Sean left Amelia's office, the turmoil within him was far beyond what his outward calm could conceal. Amelia's parting words to him allowed him to glean several crucial pieces of information.
First, it is almost certain that Amelia's first question was deliberate; in other words, she was consciously questioning his lack of preparation.
To put it more bluntly, it was a show of force.
Secondly, judging from Amelia's various actions, she has clearly figured out Fudge's true intention in sending him to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
Whether it was her previous gratitude, her easy agreement to his casual suggestion, or even the profound meaning behind her last words, all of them were sending him a clear signal—"cooperation."
Amelia didn't want to escalate the conflict with Fudge, nor did she want an outsider like Sean to interfere in their work, so she chose to express her attitude in this way.
In summary, the general meaning is:
"Mr. Phillips, I understand that you joined the Department of Magical Law Enforcement without any preparation, and I am also aware of your true motives for coming here. In view of your assistance to Susan, I am willing to grant you certain authority and will adopt your suggestions to add an honorable chapter to your resume by serving in the Ministry of Magic. But all of this is on the condition that you do not interfere with our work and must maintain a consistent stance with us."
With this translation, isn't Amelia's long, obscure words easier to understand?
Every word Amelia spoke, though it sounded gentle and mild, actually concealed a sense of alienation, an indescribable distance. In her words, an invisible high wall was built, shutting out the listener.
This is not merely a simple indifference or apathy, but rather a kind of arrogance unique to those in positions of power, a sense of superiority hidden beneath politeness that is not easily detected.
If it were someone else, they might have agreed to Amelia's request.
But Sean.
His initial purpose for coming to work at the Ministry of Magic was not so pure.
He came to the Ministry of Magic with only three things to do.
Disruption, disruption, and more disruption.
How can he fish in troubled waters if things don't get chaotic?
How can he improve if things don't get chaotic?
Moreover, he disliked Amelia's previous tone of voice.
When working with him, you don't even use the formal "you" (formal).
They wouldn't even call him Professor Phillips. Besides, someone as naturally responsible as Amelia is simply not suited to work in a place like the Ministry of Magic.
This demonstrates a lack of responsibility towards British wizards.
The reason for this is that Amelia did not consider the perspective of each Ministry of Magic employee.
If even a department head like her is this lazy, how can her subordinates possibly slack off?
In the long run, this will create a very bad vicious cycle.
For the vast majority of ordinary wizards, witnessing the significant improvement in the efficiency of this Ministry of Magic's work would be a valuable experience.
So how will the next Ministry of Magic convince themselves to accept such a change when it returns to its normal working rhythm?
Therefore, in conclusion, as a British wizard, Sean has the responsibility and obligation to help Amelia change this bad habit.
She needs to be educated, severely educated.
Sean sighed as he thought about this.
Who can blame him for being so kind-hearted?
He always treated all students equally.
Even though Amelia didn't know how many years had passed since graduation, in front of a helpful professor like him, she was still a budding child who needed guidance and the enthusiastic help of a mentor like him.
It is our duty to educate witches.
The first thing Sean did in educating the witch was... to get that damn phone booth and elevator fixed.
"Damn British traffic," Sean cursed inwardly.
"Mr. Phillips, if I heard correctly, you're hiring assistants? And five assistants?"
Harvey looked at Sean in front of him with some confusion. He was clearly at a loss for words in the face of Sean's unprecedented request.
He pursed his lips, hesitated, and continued, "We have never created a position called 'Assistant to the Minister of Magic'..."
Moreover, five assistants... that doesn't quite fit...
Before Harvey could finish speaking, Sean interrupted him with his tedious, formulaic rhetoric, which he had heard countless times before. He countered, "There wasn't a Ministry of Magic to begin with, was there? Everything starts from nothing and gradually grows; there's always an adjustment period."
He paused, as if considering his next words, and then continued slowly, "Actually, I'd like to hire a few more helpers for my assistant."
"But..." Harvey opened his mouth, wanting to object, but swallowed the words back, seemingly unable to find a suitable reason to refute the suggestion.
"Harvey, I'm doing this so that Minister Fudge's work can go more smoothly." Sean sighed, shook his head with feigned helplessness, then lowered his voice and said sincerely, "You know why the Minister sent me to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I've only been here a day, and I'm all alone and outnumbered. I simply can't complete the tasks assigned to me by the Minister. This isn't just my problem, it's the Minister's problem too."
He paused, his gaze sharpening as he looked directly at Harvey. "Besides, the minister explicitly told me that no matter what problems I encounter, I can seek your help. What, can't you even make a decision on something this small?" As he spoke, Sean looked at Harvey, this usually honest middle-aged man, with suspicion.
Harvey's face flushed red. He wanted to confidently agree and prove his abilities to Phillips.
But then, as if remembering something, he lowered his arm, which was already halfway up in the air, and stammered as he replied:
"Yes, that's fine, but I need to report this to Minister Fouché."
Sean looked indifferent; he waved his hand lightly, seemingly unsurprised by Harvey's response.
"Of course, Harvey. It's your duty, and I completely understand. I'm confident that Minister Fudge will support my actions, after all, it's for the future of the wizarding world."
Hearing Sean's answer, Harvey nodded, feeling a little more at ease.
"So, Mr. Phillips, do you have a specific list of candidates?" he asked tentatively.
"Of course, Harvey. Considering the actual situation of the Ministry of Magic, I have some preliminary candidates in mind, but there are still a few vacancies that need further consideration. Of course, it would be great if you could give me some advice."
As he spoke, Sean pulled a neatly folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Harvey.
Harvey took the paper, his gaze sweeping over the names listed. He muttered to himself:
"Professor Tonks?"
“She seems like a very suitable candidate. She has experience in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and was your colleague at Hogwarts.” “Penelope Crivart?” Harvey looked up, his brow furrowed, and asked with a puzzled expression, “Who is she?”
Sean patiently explained, "She is a student, and is currently a prefect at Hogwarts' Ravenclaw House."
"She's about to enter seventh year and has always been interested in working at the Ministry of Magic. I think this holiday I can bring her here for an internship so she can get a feel for the working environment of the Ministry of Magic and prepare her for the possibility of joining us in the future."
"Letting students get to know the work of the Ministry of Magic in advance is indeed a good idea," Harvey nodded thoughtfully.
But he couldn't help but mutter, "If she thinks she doesn't have enough summer homework and insists on finding something else to do..."
Sean pretended not to hear Harvey's complaints, only to see Harvey look up at him again three seconds later, his expression even more shocked than when he first heard that he was going to find an assistant for his assistant.
"Bertha Jorkins?" Harvey asked again, confirming. "The Bertha Jorkins from the Department of Magical Sports?"
Sean nodded, feigning ignorance as he watched Harvey's reaction. "Yes, it's her. Is there something wrong?"
Harvey's eyes widened in disbelief. "But Bertha Jorkins? She's—she's notoriously careless! Are you sure having her work here won't cause any problems?"
"Really? I hadn't heard of this problem before," Sean shook his head. "However, everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. Maybe we can give her a chance and see how she performs in practice. If she really isn't suitable, we can consider other candidates later."
Harvey sighed, clearly frustrated with Sean's decision. "Fine, since you're so insistent, let's give it a try. However,"
I have to warn you, don't blame me later for not pointing out her "little flaws."
After saying that, Harvey stood up, took the note in his hand, and headed to Fudge's office.
But... less than half a minute later, he returned, looking at Sean with a complicated expression, seemingly incredulous.
"Mr. Phillips, the minister has granted your request."
Bertha Jorkins’s work cubicle was dark and shabby, seemingly even smaller than a broom’s room.
Two tables were squeezed inside, and a row of overflowing filing cabinets lined the walls around them, with bundles of documents piled on top of them, making it impossible for anyone to move around freely.
This is undoubtedly a challenge for Joggins, who is rather plump.
Whenever she tries to find a comfortable position to work in the cramped space, she inevitably bumps into the piles of documents or has a "close encounter" with that rickety old chair.
Light stubbornly pierced through a small window, almost completely blocked by documents, only making the cramped space feel more oppressive.
In this environment, Jorkins had to unbutton one button on his shirt collar to alleviate some of the discomfort caused by the heat and constriction.
However, that full, snow-white figure stood out conspicuously in the dimly lit cubicle, becoming a bright spot in this dull space.
Jorgins sighed; she was used to this situation.
In fact, the Magic Sports Department's office is large, and there are few people, which means each person's workstation is also quite large... However,
These people do not include her.
Yes, she had gotten used to being isolated.
She unconsciously fiddled with the old pen from the Muggle world in her hand, with some dried ink stains remaining on the pen.
She gently rotated the pen, her gaze sometimes focusing on the tip, and sometimes drifting into the distance.
Suddenly, Jorgins picked up the glass of water on the table, which had long since gone cold, and took a small sip. The cool water brought him a momentary sense of relief.
However, this tranquility did not last long. She slowly put down her water glass, a hint of confusion flashing in her eyes, and looked up at her with some helplessness.
I feel like... I've forgotten something.
Sure enough, a few seconds later, a sharp, sarcastic voice rang out from the next cubicle, "Jorgins! Where's the material I requested about the Bulgarian Quidditch team members?!"
Jorgins' heart sank. How could she have forgotten about this!
She quickly rummaged through the pile of documents on the table, hoping to find the forgotten document as soon as possible.
"I'm sorry, I'll find it for you right away!" she replied anxiously, her fingers sliding quickly between the papers, silently praying that there wouldn't be any mistakes with the material.
Finally, amidst a jumble of folders, she found the document about the Bulgarian Quidditch team members. She breathed a sigh of relief, quickly grabbed the document, and hurried out of the cubicle to the next one.
"I'm so sorry, this was my oversight." She sincerely apologized to her colleague and handed over the materials.
Although the colleague was still somewhat dissatisfied, seeing Johansson's sincere attitude, she could only wave her hand, indicating that she could leave.
Jorgins returned to his workstation, picked up the pen again, and unconsciously fiddled with it.
Her thoughts were like scattered feathers, difficult to concentrate.
She didn't know when it started, but her memory suddenly became very bad. Important things and trivial details seemed to be gradually eroded by the sands of time, leaving blurry traces.
She sighed, trying to gather her thoughts for the work ahead.
But just then, the alarm clock on the table rang, reminding her that it was lunchtime.
She looked around and saw her colleagues in the surrounding cubicles getting up and heading towards the restaurant in small groups, while she felt as if she were isolated on a small island.
"Let's eat first," she murmured to herself, trying to dispel the loneliness in her heart with this self-comfort.
She picked up her cutlery and slowly walked towards the restaurant, but with each step, she felt the distance between herself and the world growing ever wider.
The restaurant was bustling with noise, her colleagues were laughing and chatting, but she quietly found a corner to sit down and enjoy the peace and quiet by herself.
She looked at the food in front of her, but it tasted bland, and her heart was filled with confusion and unease.
She didn't know why she had become like this, nor did she know how to change it.
She had already tried her best, but as the police said, the job she had just taken was not hers to do; it was something imposed on her by someone else.
But... this didn't seem to have any effect, and over time, it became something to be taken for granted.
Jorkins quickly finished the food on his plate, barely tasting it.
After finishing her meal, she returned to her workstation, ready to complete the work she hadn't finished that morning.
What kind of job was it again?
"Jorkins!"
"Jorkins!"
"Jorkins!"
She always felt like there were countless little people wandering around in her mind, each one sounding like a colleague calling her name, the voices rising and falling, making it impossible for her to concentrate.
This feeling gave her a splitting headache, as if an invisible hammer was pounding on her skull.
"My head hurts so much," she muttered to herself, covering her forehead with her hand in an attempt to ease the intense pain.
She closed her eyes, hoping to silence the noise, but the shouts only seemed to grow louder.
At that moment, that piercing, shrill cry rang in her ears again, "Jockins! Jockins! Jockins!"
She suddenly opened her eyes and saw her colleague standing in front of her, her face full of dissatisfaction. "The director wants you to go to his office."
"Call me...?" Jorgins asked hesitantly, pointing to himself with his finger.
No one answered her in the dark room; her colleague had already left.
Johansson slowly stood up, a sense of panic rising within him... Had she forgotten to finish some task...?
Which one?
Why can't I remember?
Just as Johansson stepped out of the cubicle, he heard his colleagues talking quietly in the next cubicle.
"Hey, did you hear? Johansson is getting transferred?" one of his colleagues said in a low voice.
"Are you sure you're being transferred, and not fired?" Another colleague asked, his tone tinged with skepticism and schadenfreude.
"Yes, I heard it from someone else. I heard that Mr. Phillips has come to work at the Ministry of Magic, and he specifically asked Jorkins to be his assistant." The first colleague's voice revealed a hint of surprise, as if he was somewhat taken aback by the news.
"Really? What was Phillips thinking, daring to use Jorgins? Isn't he afraid she'll cause him some trouble?" The second colleague's tone was full of disdain and sarcasm.
"Who knows? Maybe Mr. Phillips had his own reasons. But then again, it's a good thing that Jorgins is gone; it'll save us some trouble." The first colleague's tone was relaxed and relieved, as if he was glad that Jorgins had left.
Listening to these discussions, Jorgins felt a mix of emotions.
Is she being transferred... to work under Phillips...?
But...who is Phillips?
That name sounds familiar.
When Jorkins walked into Ludo Bagman's office, Bagman was sitting behind his large desk, fiddling with a quill pen in his hand, with his signature, slightly sly smile on his face.
Upon seeing Jorgins enter, he looked up and said, "Ah, Jorgins, you've arrived. I just received a notification that you've been transferred to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."
As he spoke, he took out a transfer order and handed it to Jorgins.
Johansson didn't look at it; to her, it didn't make much difference where she worked.
However... she needed someone to answer her questions.
After hesitating for a long time, she slowly asked, "Who is Phillips?"
Upon hearing this question, Bagman put down his quill, leaned back, and appeared quite relaxed. "Phillips,"
He's been doing this lately...
after awhile.
Johansson walked out of Bagman's office in a daze.
No wonder the name Phillips sounded familiar to her; he was the one who had been frequently appearing in the Daily Prophet lately.
Of course, almost every year on the day Sean releases a book, he appears on the front page of The Daily Prophet.
But Johansson doesn't read the book, and, quite obviously, she's forgotten it.
Jorkins staggered forward, carrying a tattered cardboard box that contained all her belongings from her years of working at the Ministry of Magic.
Inside were a few worn-out quill pens, several notebooks, a large sticky notepad, and... a doll.
Under the strange looks of the crowd, she struggled to carry the cardboard box and boarded the elevator.
The elevator slowly ascended.
Sixth floor, fifth floor, fourth floor, third floor, and finally she stopped at her destination—the 11th and 2nd floors.
She was the only person coming down from the second floor, and as she stepped through the first oak gate, she felt an overwhelming sense of panic.
That's fear of the unknown.
At that moment, a man in a suit, with an elegant demeanor, stood beside her and naturally took the cardboard box from her hand.
"You must be Ms. Jorkins? I'm Sean Phillips, and we'll be working together from now on."
She paused for a moment, her gaze quickly sweeping over the man, trying to find a clue beneath his gentle demeanor to confirm his identity. But Sean Phillips' warm and sincere smile unconsciously relaxed her tense nerves.
"Yes, I am Jorkins. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Phillips." She forced a smile, her voice trembling slightly.
Sean chuckled softly, seemingly sensing her nervousness but not pointing it out. "Don't be nervous, Ms. Jorgins. I'm your direct supervisor and your friend. Just let me know if you need any help."
As Sean spoke, a strange sense of peace quietly welled up in my heart.
She followed him through the heavy oak gate and stopped at the corner of the first corridor.
This room is his temporary office in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
However, such a temporary office is clearly not enough for six people.
So he summoned Mr. Rufus Scrimgeour, the head of the Auror office, and asked to set aside one of the vacant offices in the Auror office for Jorgins.
However, things didn't go as smoothly as he had imagined.
This wizard, with his brownish-red hair and resembling an old lion, seemed to harbor deep resentment towards him.
He said with a rather sarcastic tone...