"Rumors? Cornelius—"
Dumbledore's expression was so calm that it made Fudge's nameless anger flare up.
"How is it not a rumor?"
Fudge shouted, his face turning purple-red.
"As far as I can see, all of you are determined to create panic and destroy everything we have worked so hard to build over the last thirteen years!"
In the shadows, Snape stared at him coldly.
He stared at this furious little wizard, who flatly refused to believe that his orderly, stable, comfortable world could collapse in an instant—refused to believe that Voldemort might rise again.
"Voldemort has returned,"
Dumbledore said again.
"Fudge, if you accept this fact immediately and take the necessary measures, we may still be able to salvage the situation.
"The first and most important step is to remove the Dementors' control over Azkaban—"
"Nonsense!"
Fudge shouted again.
"Remove the Dementors? If I so much as suggest that, I'll be thrown out of office! Half of us sleep soundly at night only because we know Dementors are standing guard at Azkaban!"
"Cornelius, if the rest of us know you've placed Voldemort's most dangerous allies under the watch of creatures that will serve him the moment he gives the order, we will not sleep very soundly!"
Dumbledore said.
"Those creatures cannot possibly be loyal to you, Fudge! Voldemort can offer them far more power and pleasure than you ever could! Once Voldemort has the support of the Dementors, his old followers will return to him one after another. By then, it will be very difficult for you to prevent him from regaining the power he had thirteen years ago!"
Fudge's mouth opened and closed, as if no words could express his anger.
"The second measure you must take—and you must act immediately,"
Dumbledore continued,
"is to send envoys to the giants."
"Send envoys to the giants?"
Fudge screamed, suddenly able to speak again.
"What madness is this?"
"Extend a hand of friendship to them while it is not yet too late,"
Dumbledore said.
"Voldemort has already won over some of them. He has done this before. Among all wizards, only he can offer them rights and freedom!"
"You—you must be joking!"
Fudge was so shocked he could barely breathe. He shook his head while backing away from Dumbledore.
"If the wizarding world learns that I have dealings with giants—people hate giants to the bone, Dumbledore—my career will be finished—"
"Cornelius, you are too obsessed with your office. It has cost you the judgment you ought to possess."
Dumbledore said. His voice gradually rose, and one could sense the aura of power surrounding him. His eyes burned once more.
"You place too much importance on so-called purity of blood! You always have! You fail to realize that a person's birth does not matter. What matters is what he grows into!
"I tell you now—if you listen to my advice and take action, the Ministry of Magic and the entire wizarding world will remember you forever. They will regard you as the bravest and greatest Minister for Magic in history.
"If you do not act—history will remember this as well: that it was because you stood by and did nothing that Voldemort was given a second chance to destroy the world we rebuilt with so much effort!"
"Absurd,"
Fudge whispered, continuing to retreat step by step.
"Madness—"
Then came silence.
"If you remain so stubborn and insist on going your own way, Cornelius,"
Dumbledore said,
"then we will have no choice but to part ways. You will do what you deem appropriate. And I—I will act according to my will."
There was no threat in Dumbledore's voice. It sounded only like a statement, yet Fudge was so furious he almost jumped, as if Dumbledore were approaching him with a wand raised.
"Fine, fine, Dumbledore,"
he said, wagging a finger threateningly.
"I have always given you ample freedom. I have always held you in the highest respect. I may not agree with some of your decisions, but I have always kept silent. Not many people would allow you to hire a werewolf, keep Hagrid employed, or decide what to teach students without consulting the Ministry. But if you intend to oppose me—"
"The only one I intend to oppose,"
Dumbledore said,
"is Voldemort. If you oppose him as well, Cornelius, then we are still on the same side."
Fudge seemed unable to think of an answer.
His small feet were unsteady. He swayed back and forth for a moment, twisting his bowler hat with both hands.
At last, he spoke, and there was a pleading note in his voice.
"He will not return, Dumbledore. He cannot—"
"Cornelius, very well—I understand."
Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking. He stared at Fudge until the plea in his eyes grew more and more obvious.
"I am an old man, Cornelius. My eyes are bound to grow dull. Asking me to judge whether we should be more radical is always difficult—"
"What—what do you mean by radical?"
Fudge was frightened by those words. He had always been good at reading people's expressions, and because of that, he could sense the terrifying cold light in Dumbledore's eyes.
He involuntarily gripped his magic hand mirror.
If anything happened, he could use it to contact the Aurors outside.
"We must respect the thoughts of the young, Cornelius. That is necessary. Old men like us must always step back behind the scenes—
"So, Mr. Green, would you please come in?"
The door creaked. Fudge looked over in panic and saw a head roughly level with the window.
"Headmaster Dumbledore. Minister Fudge."
A tuft of black hair drifted from outside the window all the way into the room.
"G-Green?"
Fudge nervously wiped his hands on the sides of his trousers.
"Good morning, Minister Fudge."
Sean had noticed the fire inside the hut and come over. Hagrid had been absent lately, so he had become more sensitive to the sight of fire.
Just now, he had thought Hagrid had returned.
"Ah, good morning, Mr. Green."
Facing Sean, Fudge became much more cautious and amiable.
"Then what do you think, my dear child, regarding what we should do?"
Dumbledore smiled faintly, the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes relaxing.
Fudge opened his mouth, seeming to want to say something, but Dumbledore interrupted him.
"We need someone upright, kind, and fair to judge our actions. In that case, Cornelius, I imagine you will also be convinced."
Dumbledore said gently.
"Ah, of course. I only—well, you know, good child, this sort of news will cause enormous damage to public order and stability."
Fudge said in a muffled voice.
He had been someone who placed his bet early.
As for the young wizard in front of him—oh, could anyone understand their investment better than an opportunist?
This was an upright wizard. Such people were easy to use.
Silence spread among the four people.
Sean was somewhat surprised. He had inadvertently walked into this important conversation.
Recalling the unending bad news of the past few days, Sean silently raised his head and looked at Fudge.
Those spotless eyes made Fudge break into a slight cold sweat.
"Voldemort has returned."
Sean said.
"How could—"
Cold sweat poured from Fudge.
"The Ministry of Magic should take sufficient countermeasures—"
Sean continued.
"The Ministry of Magic should not allow anyone to point fingers at it—"
Fudge's face looked extremely ugly.
How had he forgotten that these two were on the same side?
Not long ago, Dumbledore had submitted his choice for the next Headmaster.
Before that, he had not passed any indication to the Ministry at all.
The Ministry had never been in his eyes. Of course, neither had the Minister.
"That may save more lives."
Sean ignored Fudge's rebuttal and continued.
Hearing this, Fudge's expression shifted unpredictably, and his hands clenched tightly.
"He told you to take action. Are you deaf?"
Suddenly, the door was pushed open.
Everyone in the hut looked toward the entrance. A wild, hooded face entered with the wind.
Only a chin was revealed, but Fudge felt an inexplicable familiarity.
"You should not have come."
Dumbledore's face instantly turned cold.
Strangely, Sean sensed a hint of grievance from that small portion of the face.
"You told me to come, and now you're driving me away. Dumbledore, how quickly your heart changes."
The tall hooded wizard said.
Dumbledore's gaze became even colder. Only then did the tall hooded wizard give a cold snort and leave the hut.
He did not close the door. Perhaps he was angry.
Sean thought this.
"Who—who was that?"
After the tall hooded wizard left, Fudge asked in lingering fear.
"He will come to find you. You will know soon enough."
Dumbledore's words carried a trace of helplessness.
"What?"
Fudge did not understand, but instinctively felt this would not be a good thing.
What made it even harder for him to let go was that the way a certain black-haired young wizard looked at him had changed.
How did he see a trace of—pity?
"I hope you will consider this matter seriously, Minister Fudge. This time, not only for those suffering lives, but also for yourself."
Sean said meaningfully.
"Absurd—what riddles are you all playing with me? Mr. Green, you should tell me,"
Fudge suppressed his panic.
"You know, from the beginning—anyway, I hope you know that I am willing to listen to your advice, but—"
Fudge's face grew even more panicked. At some point, he had become unable to contact the Aurors outside.
"Don't leave through Hogwarts' front gate, sir."
Sean was always considerate.
"Mr. Green!"
Fudge was now thoroughly panicked.
He could not even control his bearing or tone. He grabbed the young wizard's hand like he had caught a life-saving straw.
Who was that?
Who could it be?
Why did he feel so familiar, and why was he so frightened?
Dumbledore, Dumbledore—who else could appear in his Hogwarts?
"Are you willing to let the Ministry take action now?"
Sean asked, somewhat surprised.
"Of course! Of course! Opposing You-Know-Who—this is a measure the Ministry must take. We must ensure the safety of every wizard."
Fudge changed very quickly.
Although Sean knew he would change, he had not expected it to happen so fast.
And Sean could also imagine that if Fudge refused to act, a certain Dark wizard would take action against him.
"The guards at Azkaban must be replaced. If this news is true—"
In fact, Fudge was at least not a complete fool.
He knew that words spoken by Dumbledore already had eighty percent credibility, and with a certain young wizard added to that—
The reason he was unwilling to believe Dumbledore was simply that he thought Dumbledore challenged the Ministry's authority. But when it came from a certain young wizard, it was different.
Fudge was even willing to pave the way for him.
This was a wizard who did not pursue power. Fudge had always known this.
Even if the Ministry of Magic were handed to him, he would only go to the Ministry library and read books.
In the end, power would still fall into certain other people's hands.
And his rise was so unstoppable that Fudge believed it seven or eight times more than he believed Voldemort's return to power.
Cornelius Fudge's position remained as stable as ever—if he gained the support of a certain young wizard.
"I give you my word."
Sean said.
"Then of course I—"
Fudge put on a troubled expression and quietly glanced at the young wizard.
"Of course I believe you, Mr. Green. I only hope you know that it is because of you that I am willing to believe."
As he expected, Sean's calm expression gained a trace of trust.
"The guards at Azkaban must be replaced, but this is no simple matter. We need enough trustworthy manpower, and these days, manpower is precisely what is most lacking—"
Fudge said with difficulty.
"Agree to him."
A cold voice drifted from outside the hut.
But strangely, aside from Sean, no one seemed to hear it.
"Perhaps I can help with that."
So Sean said.
"That would be excellent."
Fudge revealed an expression that said, as expected.
Those people in the wizarding world had probably already switched sides in batches, hadn't they?
Just as he had predicted, their Mr. Hermes was never isolated and helpless.
Quite the contrary. He might already be one of the most powerful people in the entire wizarding world.
"As for the giants—I will have someone go on behalf of the Ministry."
Fudge said decisively. He leaned a little closer and lowered his voice to Sean.
"I am doing this entirely because of my trust in you. No matter what happens, I hope you understand that."
Sean looked at this smooth Minister and thought that every wizard in the world had something that could be used to persuade them.
"I must return to the Ministry, Mr. Green. You have all caught me a little off guard today—"
Fudge whispered, then looked at Sean.
"The front gate of Hogwarts—"
"It is open, sir."
"That's good."
Fudge's plump body finally squeezed out of the hut again.
Only Sean and Headmaster Dumbledore remained, gazing at each other after more than three months.
"Professor Snape—"
Sean began carefully.
Dumbledore gave a slight sigh.