Both Dumbledore, as Headmaster of Hogwarts, and Fudge, as Minister for Magic, had many worries about the catastrophic event that had occurred this evening.
Though their worries were not the same.
However, when they stood outside the glass doors of the Hospital Wing, looking into the gloomy public ward, their expressions involuntarily darkened.
Any wizard with a conscience would be pained by the scene before them!
There weren't many young wizards who had suffered fractures or severe lacerations—you could count them on two hands—about the same number as those who were completely unharmed.
The vast majority of the young wizards had bandages wrapped around some part of their bodies, and the turbid air inside the hospital was thick with the smell of blood.
Dumbledore's gaze swept over every bed. Only when he saw that most of the students' injuries had been treated did the sternness on his aged face relax slightly.
"What wind blew you here, Minister?"
Madam Pomfrey, whose white apron was stained with blooming red flowers of blood, rushed to the Hospital Wing entrance, intending to nip any chaos caused by the arriving "VIPs" in the bud. She left a student's bedside and hurried over.
She pulled open the glass door, stepped out, and quickly closed it behind her, as if worried Fudge would slip in.
"Oh, don't be so hostile towards me, Poppy. I'm just here to—"
Fudge obviously realized he was an unwelcome guest. He smiled and scratched his nose awkwardly.
"—visit the injured students... You know, Poppy, I have to fulfill my duties as Minister for Magic."
"You've clearly fulfilled your duties very well, Minister," Madam Pomfrey glared at Fudge angrily.
"Objectively speaking, Poppy, before the truth is investigated, we cannot rashly pin the responsibility on the Ministry," Dumbledore intervened, stopping the confrontation between Madam Pomfrey and Fudge.
"At the very least, I believe the cause of this train losing control is unlikely to be disrepair of the Hogwarts Express."
"Thank you for speaking fairly for me, Dumbledore," Fudge breathed a sigh of relief, wiping the cold sweat from his temples again.
In a way, Dumbledore's words were an endorsement for him.
"Then go ahead and visit, Minister," Madam Pomfrey said, her tone softening out of respect for Dumbledore, though her face remained grim.
"But as you can clearly see, Minister, the situation here is chaotic enough. It is not suitable for an inspiring speech!"
"Of course, of course," Fudge nodded repeatedly. He was even a bit unsure whether he should enter the Hospital Wing—because he indeed noticed that some Healers, who had been comforting injured students, stopped their work upon his arrival and stood hesitantly at the foot of the beds, as if waiting for his inspection.
In any other setting, Fudge would have been happy to show his ministerial grace and benevolence, walk over, and say a few encouraging words.
But now—
Just as Poppy said, it wasn't a good time for him to "show off."
Fudge turned his head, preparing to ask for Dumbledore's opinion, only to see him walking into the hospital on his own, heading straight for a small boy.
Fudge's gaze naturally fell on the boy, sizing him up—
The boy had messy black hair and a figure so thin he looked malnourished. At this moment, he was getting out of bed nervously because of Dumbledore's approach, revealing a delicate face...
"Merlin's beard!"
When his gaze fixed on the lightning-bolt scar on the boy's forehead, Fudge froze for a second. Then, forgetting his previous apprehension, he walked quickly to Dumbledore's side, wearing an expression of amazement.
"Dumbledore, could this be... Are you Harry Potter?!"
"I am, sir," Harry said. Knowing his scar had caused a sensation again, he uneasily brushed his hair to cover it. His greeting was filled with constraint.
"Hello, Professor Dumbledore, and... er?"
"This is the current Minister for Magic—Cornelius Fudge, Harry," Dumbledore said gently.
The young wizards around them stared at the three with awe. Even Draco Malfoy stopped whining about his injured nose and glared gloomily at the back of Harry's head.
Harry was surprised that he didn't find it strange for a wizard as famous as Dumbledore to speak to him so kindly, as if they were old acquaintances.
However, Dumbledore's introduction made Harry nervous.
Minister for Magic!
Just thinking about it, he must be an incredibly important figure!
"Hello, Minister Fudge!" Harry greeted stiffly, stealing a glance at Ron in the next bed. Ron had grown up in a wizarding family and knew wizarding etiquette far better than he did... He hoped to get a hint from Ron on whether he needed to bow to the Minister.
After all, look at Ron's prefect brother Percy. When he heard the Minister was waiting for him too, his panicked excitement was just like Dudley finding out Aunt Petunia had prepared a chocolate cream cake for him at night!
"Hello, hello—"
But what happened next made Harry relax.
The portly Minister didn't demand a bow. Instead, he shook Harry's hand with a beaming smile and said very kindly, "Welcome back to our world, Harry."
Fudge asked smilingly, "Did you get a bit of a fright? But I assure you, this is uncommon. In fact, this is the first accident since the Ministry built the Hogwarts Express."
First accident?
Harry didn't know whether to feel relieved or lament his bad luck—he just twitched the corners of his stiff mouth.
"I want to express my gratitude to you, Harry."
It was Professor Dumbledore who spoke next, but his words truly surprised Harry.
Ron, Neville, and the others wore equally confused expressions—even the Minister for Magic seemed puzzled.
"Gratitude?"
Harry blinked his green eyes, letting Dumbledore press his shoulder to make him sit down. He looked up at Dumbledore's face, which wore a reassuring smile, and gazed into those infinitely tolerant and kind blue eyes.
"You mean—gratitude? But—er, I didn't do anything—Oh, if you mean me defeating Vol—"
"It has nothing to do with him, Harry," Dumbledore interrupted before Harry could say the name.
"It is because of today's events, Harry."
Dumbledore looked at Harry with approval.
"Cornelius and I heard the whole story from Mr. Weasley. Harry, when everyone fell into despair because the train lost control, you encouraged everyone not to give up, didn't you?"
If there were an egg right now, Harry thought his face, burning with embarrassment, could probably cook it.
He even wished he could use magic to open a hole in the floor and crawl inside.
Unfortunately, he didn't know magic, and no hole appeared in the floor. On the contrary, he knew everyone's eyes were on him, waiting for him to say something.
Not all these gazes were friendly, as Harry was sure he heard a cold snort in the silence.
"Oh—um, I—I was... but actually—"
Under Dumbledore's encouraging gaze, Harry's chaotic breathing gradually calmed.
"Actually, I didn't accomplish anything. I just shouted a couple of sentences, sir. It was Professor Delfino who stopped the train and saved everyone."
"No one will overlook Professor Delfino's heroic performance," Dumbledore said gently.
"But you shouldn't overlook the positive effect your encouragement had on everyone, Harry.
What you displayed is a noble quality—courage. Like a lighthouse in the sea, it might seem useless in calm times, but when a storm comes, it can guide lost people to find the right direction."
This—
Fudge stole a glance at Dumbledore, blinking his small eyes rapidly. Dumbledore's theory on courage wasn't wrong, but based on those two shouts Harry Potter gave on the train...
Am I... that outstanding?
Harry himself was dizzy from the praise.
However, to be honest, Professor Dumbledore's praise made Harry very happy. When he went to school with Dudley, he rarely received praise.
"I—um, just tried to do what I could," Harry said humbly, trying not to look too smug in front of his future classmates.
"Trying to do what one can—that is also an excellent quality," Dumbledore beamed at Harry.
"I think I should award you points, Mr. Potter. But unfortunately, you haven't been Sorted yet."
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