On the other end, the Prime Minister was so furious he nearly smashed the phone.
It was true that, both in name and in practice, he had no way to punish Tver. But he was still angry.
Something this huge had happened. Fine, perhaps Tver could not give him an explanation right away, but after he vented his anger, why had the man suddenly gone silent?
The Prime Minister even thought Tver might have taken offense at the criticism. After all, they were partners in essence, not bound by any superior-subordinate relationship.
"I know this kind of accident is certainly not something you wanted to see either," the Prime Minister said, trying to calm himself down, "but now all of London knows there has been an attack at Whitehall. That is something neither of us wanted even more."
"Wasn't the whole reason I supported the creation of the Joint Operations Office to stop exactly this sort of thing from happening?"
"You're the leader of the Office, and the only person who can solve this attack. Don't lose heart over one little mishap."
The Prime Minister had even started trying to comfort Tver earnestly, afraid he might simply wash his hands of the whole thing.
After all, according to Evans's report, unless they used missiles and flattened this whole area together with the giants, it would be best to leave them to the wizards.
And Tver was the best candidate he could think of.
Still, he really was unhappy.
The magical side of things had blown up this badly. Not only would the giants be nearly impossible to conceal, but the paralysis of the government center alone would give him a headache for a very long time.
Done badly, all the support he had won over after Canary Wharf might vanish because of this.
Tver came back to himself with an odd look on his face, rather puzzled as to how the Prime Minister had gone from raging to this.
Still, since the Prime Minister had managed to talk himself around, that saved Tver some effort.
"I understand what you mean. In fact, the situation here actually isn't that hard to resolve."
The Prime Minister froze for a second. "Then go resolve it!"
"There are many ways to resolve a situation, Prime Minister." Tver watched the panicked police officers in front of him with a thoughtful look.
Voldemort's attack really had caught him off guard, and it had added fuel to the fire between wizards and Muggles.
But even in a fire, there were still chestnuts to be pulled out.
"If the wizards deal with the giants, you'll still have to run yourself ragged coming up with some rotten excuse, one that leaves you wide open to criticism, in order to cover up the giants and this attack."
"But if, instead, we acknowledge the attack publicly, and the brave police and special forces..."
Tver glanced at Evans and immediately decided to pin that heroic honor on him.
"Sir, I'm Special Forces, not intelligence," Evans corrected in a small, embarrassed voice.
"Fine, Special Forces. Under your wise leadership, after enduring every hardship, they defeated the mysterious, terrifying attackers and protected the lives and property of the people."
A faint smile tugged at Tver's lips. He was certain that now there was a workable answer, the Prime Minister would not mind taking the blame at all.
"You mean we credit Evans with destroying the giants?" the Prime Minister asked in delight.
The attack itself would certainly draw criticism, but an effective response would also bring him enormous prestige.
Just like Churchill during the Second World War, failures on the battlefield had done nothing to stop him from winning the people's love through the victories that followed.
"But how do I explain the giants to the public? I can't just be vague..."
"You have to be vague, Prime Minister. You push it onto the IRA, and then..." Tver hesitated.
He truly had not expected to expose the wizarding world so openly under such unfavorable conditions.
But it had to be said, Voldemort had really put him in a difficult spot this time. A perfect solution was no longer possible.
"The public will make the connection themselves to all those rumors about giants that have been circulating over the last half year. At that point, all you need to do is guide public opinion and shift their attention toward debating whether giants really exist. Naturally, they won't spend too much effort blaming you."
"I imagine that's the tactic you're best at, isn't it?"
The Prime Minister fell silent for quite a while. It was not that he disapproved. On the contrary, he liked how thoroughly Tver had thought out both the credit and the follow-up solution.
"I remember Fudge saying that the wizarding world isn't allowed to reveal magical matters. Are you sure doing this won't affect you?"
"Enemies never let us have things exactly the way we want them, Prime Minister," Tver said with a sigh.
"A flawless response is far too unrealistic. Most of the time, all we can do is choose the consequences we're able to bear, isn't that so?"
"Very well. I'll hand command of the police units on site over to Evans. If you need anything, have him act directly. There's no need to seek my approval again..." The Prime Minister paused, and his tone softened considerably.
"And as for the magical side of things, I'll leave that to you. But I hope that after tomorrow's press conference, I'll still be able to have tea with you, my friend, in the Joint Operations Office."
He had already realized that the situation might not be as simple as Tver had made it sound. Otherwise, Tver would not have shown him such a rare look of helplessness.
In truth, there was not much friendship between the two of them. At heart, theirs was simply a relationship of exchanged interests.
But for a politician, someone who could bring benefits was enough to be called a friend.
And compared with the foolish Fudge, he much preferred dealing with the humble and courteous Fawley.
As for trying to control Tver, he had long since abandoned that unrealistic idea after the bombing attack.
Unless Tver could somehow brainwash the whole of Britain for him, there was no chance he would keep his position much longer anyway.
The current relationship between him and Tver already suited him perfectly well. There was no need to risk war over gains that, personally, were not all that significant to him.
Tver was rather surprised by the goodwill coming from the Prime Minister. This could probably count as the first genuinely good piece of news he had had all night.
"Of course. As a friend, I promise you that tomorrow you won't see so much as a trace of a giant in Whitehall. And the damaged buildings here will be restored as if nothing had happened."
Since the Prime Minister had shown goodwill, Tver saw no reason not to return it.
"Then I'll be looking forward to that," the Prime Minister said in delight.
As long as there was no visible evidence of destruction, he had plenty of ways to calm the public.
After hanging up, the heaviness on Tver's face eased quite a bit.
"Evans, please direct the police to rescue as many people nearby as possible and keep them away from the giants. Viktor will assist you."
Before Viktor could say anything, Tver turned to him and added, "This is an emergency. You are permitted to use any means necessary, including magic."
"But what about the giants, and the mysterious person hiding in the shadows?" Viktor asked in surprise.
"Of course we'll handle those." Tver smiled faintly and looked over at Percy, who had already prepared himself.
"Nervous, Percy?"
"A little... alright, very nervous," Percy replied with a stiff smile.
The giants themselves were not really the problem. As Viktor had said, the real trouble was Voldemort lurking somewhere unseen.
But if they failed to deal with the giants, then the person who would bear more blame than anyone else would be the professor.
And everything he had been protecting would come to nothing.
At that thought, Percy tightened his grip on his wand.
"But I don't think that'll stop me from taking down those damned giants!"