"Voldemort has returned," Dumbledore said once more.
"Fudge, if you accept this fact immediately and take the necessary measures, we might still salvage the situation. The first and most crucial step is to remove Azkaban from the dementors' control—"
"Preposterous!" Fudge shouted again.
"Remove the dementors? Half our people sleep soundly at night precisely because they know dementors are standing guard at Azkaban!"
"Those creatures will never be truly loyal to you, Fudge! Voldemort can offer them far more power and pleasure than you ever could! Once Voldemort has the dementors' support, his former Death Eaters will flock back to his side, and you'll find it nearly impossible to prevent him from regaining the power he wielded thirteen years ago!"
Fudge's mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air, as if no words could express his outrage.
"The second measure you must take—and you must act immediately," Dumbledore pressed on,
"—is to send envoys to the giants."
"Send envoys to the giants?" Fudge exclaimed, his voice cracking with disbelief.
"What sort of madness is this?"
"Extend the hand of friendship while there's still time," Dumbledore said steadily.
"Otherwise, Voldemort will win them over. He's done it before—among all wizards, only he can offer them the power and freedom they crave!"
"You—you must be joking!" Fudge gasped, shaking his head frantically while backing away from Dumbledore.
"If the wizarding world learned I was dealing with giants—people loathe giants, Dumbledore—my career would be finished—"
"You are blinded by your love of office, Cornelius! It has warped your judgment," Dumbledore said, his voice rising with controlled fury. They could feel the aura of power radiating from him as his eyes blazed with inner fire.
"You place too much importance on the so-called purity of wizard blood! You always have! You fail to understand that it matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be! Your dementors just eliminated the last member of the Avery family—look at the path that man chose! I tell you now—heed my advice, take action, and the Ministry and the entire wizarding world will remember you forever as the bravest, greatest Minister for Magic in history. Refuse to act—and history will remember that it was you who stood by and handed Voldemort a second chance to destroy everything we've worked so hard to rebuild!"
"Preposterous," Fudge whispered, continuing to retreat step by step.
"You're all completely mad..."
"If you persist in this delusion, this pig-headed stubbornness, Cornelius," Dumbledore said quietly,
"then we must part ways. You'll do what you think is right. And I—I'll follow my conscience."
There wasn't a trace of threat in Dumbledore's voice—it sounded like a simple statement of fact—but Fudge reacted as though Dumbledore were advancing on him with a raised wand.
"Right then, right then, Dumbledore," he said, jabbing a trembling finger through the air.
"I've always given you free rein. I've always treated you with the utmost respect. I may not have agreed with some of your decisions, but I've always held my tongue. Not many would've allowed you to employ a werewolf, keep Hagrid on, or decide what to teach students without consulting the Ministry. But if you're prepared to work against me—"
"The only one I wish to work against," Dumbledore said calmly,
"is Voldemort. If you oppose him too, Cornelius, then we're still on the same side."
Fudge seemed at a complete loss for words. His small feet shuffled unsteadily beneath him as he swayed back and forth, spinning his bowler hat nervously in his hands. Finally, he looked up at Dumbledore and said in a strained whisper:
"I don't know what game you and your people are playing, Dumbledore, but I've heard quite enough. I've nothing more to say. I'll contact you tomorrow to discuss how this school is being run. I must get back to the Ministry."
He took several steps away, then turned back and approached Harry—
"Your prize money. One thousand Galleons. There should've been a proper ceremony, but under the circumstances..."
He said curtly, pulling a heavy bag of gold coins from his pocket and tossing it toward Harry. But Harry made no move to catch it. The money bag hit the ground with a dull thunk.
Fudge said nothing more. He jammed the bowler hat onto his head and strode away without so much as a farewell.
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