After nearly two months of work at the Wizards' Confederation, Tver finally had a chance to catch his breath, only to receive Marvolio's belated letter asking for help.
"Leaving aside whether potions and magic can actually cure every illness, did you never consider that the wizarding world's already limited resources can't possibly provide magical treatment to every single patient?!"
Looking at Marvolio, who sat opposite him with his neck tucked in and not a word to say, Tver was so angry he nearly flicked him on the forehead.
"I didn't expect that treatment to have such a strong publicity effect..." Marvolio muttered quietly.
In truth, the publicity had not merely been strong. It had been explosive.
Faced with a brain tumor that modern medicine had been completely helpless against, magic had solved it quickly, safely, and even without side effects. Once that story spread through media outlets large and small, almost everyone erupted.
Perhaps many people were not ill themselves, but who could say what might happen in the future?
And once people grew older, all kinds of age-related illnesses became more likely. Under those circumstances, not just in Britain, but ordinary people all over the world began calling on their own governments to establish magical hospitals.
The problem was that Britain's hospital was essentially only a pilot project. Other countries were still in the inspection stage. How could they possibly build their own hospitals all at once?
Even if the hospitals were built, there were not nearly enough Healers or potions for treatment.
That was exactly why Tver had suggested using an ordinary patient with a common condition for publicity. It was meant to show magic's advantages: painless treatment, relatively speaking, safety, and lack of side effects.
That way, magic would become a higher-end medical option for ordinary people, and after resources such as magical herbs had been expanded, it could slowly be made more widely available.
But now, the miraculous effects of magic and potions had been publicized in advance, forcing that "slowly" to speed up.
At the thought, Tver truly could not hold back and punched Marvolio in the shoulder.
"If I hadn't had Lucius and the others start preparing potion workshops years in advance, building up enough potion reserves, and if this ended up making people resent wizards, I'd send you off to make movies!"
Marvolio was not annoyed. He rubbed his shoulder and looked at Tver in surprise and delight.
"I knew you'd have a way. With these potion reserves, won't wizards' reputation around the world improve tremendously?"
"Please. How long do you think those potion reserves can last?" Tver rolled his eyes.
"But after seeing the results of the magical hospital, governments around the world will probably be very willing to provide wizards with land for growing herbs and brewing potions."
Tver took a sip of Pumpkin juice and began thinking about how to maximize their interests.
In a sense, this was also acceleration. High risks always brought high returns.
Besides, it was not as if he had never anticipated the current situation. After all, magical hospitals were meant to serve patients. Sooner or later, it would be exposed. It was only a question of when.
He had only wanted to use this as an excuse to threaten Marvolio a little and make him handle more work.
Marvolio, however, had not yet realized he had already been arranged down to the last detail. All he knew was that Tver was, once again, perfectly confident.
"So could we call this a blessing in disguise?" he said with complete peace of mind.
"Do you want me to give that blessing to you?" Tver gave him a chilly look.
Marvolio immediately shrank back and did not dare look pleased anymore.
"I did do a good deed. If you'd seen how much that child was suffering, you'd probably have been even more forceful than I was..."
Marvolio quietly defended himself. He did not believe Tver would stand by and watch someone die.
At most, Tver would have handled the methods in a way that made the Prime Minister and their collaborators more comfortable, made public opinion more favorable to them, and achieved an even more perfect result.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Professor Fawley, um..."
Outside the door, Crystal hesitated and glanced back, suddenly feeling that her originally simple job had become much heavier.
"There are three guests. They claim to be your family..."
"What do you mean, claim? There are only a few of us left in the Fawley family. Who else would impersonate us?!" a familiar voice loudly retorted.
Tver immediately stiffened, but before he could react, another equally familiar voice followed.
"Jeff, open the door."
"Yes, madam."
As soon as the words fell, the office door opened, and Tver's parents, whom he had not seen in a long time, appeared before him along with the house-elf Jeff.
"Mills, looking at the face of this British representative of the Wizards' Confederation and Director of the UK Joint Operations Office, I can't help feeling he seems familiar. Do you know who this is?" Brenda pointed at Tver and asked her husband in a sarcastic tone.
"Ahem, let me see." Mills adjusted the nonexistent glasses on his face and leaned in solemnly, carefully studying Tver's helpless expression.
"He looks familiar to me too. But a personage this important surely can't be the person I'm thinking of. What do you think, Jeff?"
The house-elf looked left, then right, dazed and confused, suddenly realizing how difficult it was to be caught in the middle of this family dispute.
Fortunately, he noticed Tver's pleading look.
"This is your son, young Master Tver Fawley."
Tver immediately gave Jeff a thumbs-up for his bravery, but less than a second later, the smile on his face froze again.
"Oh, please. Whose son goes years without contacting his parents and even deliberately drives them out of the house?"
By the end, Brenda's eyes had gone red, and her voice carried a hint of tears.
"I was worried about your safety. Voldemort and those Dark wizards were completely deranged. I couldn't let you stay in Britain and take such a huge risk, could I?"
Tver hurried over, took his mother's hand, led her to a chair, and poured her a full glass of Pumpkin juice.
"You were fighting a decisive battle against the Dark Lord on the battlefield. How could we possibly enjoy everything with peace of mind?" Brenda rapped Tver on the head in annoyance.
"If we hadn't run into the Confederation's international task force in Tibet, we'd still be kept completely in the dark, Professor Fawley!"
"Ahem." Tver awkwardly scratched his head. He could hardly say that he had genuinely been so busy lately that he had forgotten about it.
Seeing this, Mills kindly leaned in and explained on his behalf.
"All right, all right. Tver has been working hard to protect wizards too. Look, The Statute of Secrecy has already been abolished. As a member of the Confederation, he must be very busy right now."
"So what if the law was abolished?" Brenda waved her hand, completely unconcerned.
"You couldn't even open a restaurant in London without the Ministry of Magic inspecting you every few days. It was just a little meat from magical creatures. What's wrong with letting muggles eat some?"
"..."
Looking at Brenda, who sounded so completely justified, Tver suddenly began to wonder whether his desire to overthrow The Statute of Secrecy had been caused by his family education.