HP: Fairy Tale Wizard - 164

Chapter 164: We Three

The Ministry of Magic was suffused with an uncomfortable atmosphere today. Departments that normally weren't particularly busy had begun operating at full capacity, and those already busy were now swamped beyond the sight of anyone sitting peacefully at their desks.

Paper aeroplanes flew between departments as densely as butterfly colonies in the wild. Occasionally, junior staff members clutching large stacks of parchment would get struck by the paper aeroplanes as they rushed through, biting back tears as they continued working.

Everyone knew about the massive disaster that had occurred last night. Honestly, England had never been closer to the complete failure of the Secrecy Statute than it was now. Even the Dark Marks and Death Eater attacks during the war seemed insignificant compared to last night's events—after all, the Dark Lord hadn't been targeting the destruction of the Secrecy Statute itself.

In Fudge's office, all department heads had been assembled. From the Auror Office to the Department of Magical Catastrophes, even some important group leaders had been summoned by Fudge's paper aeroplane.

At this moment, they were holding a tense meeting regarding the magical exposure incident.

"On both banks of the Thames, we currently have over two hundred people photographing the broken Westminster Bridge as a souvenir. Our preliminary estimates suggest it's no longer something that can be suppressed by Obliviate alone."

"The number of Muggles who directly witnessed and experienced the magical event is estimated to be greater than one hundred. This includes both the Muggles who were 'transferred' and those who happened to be walking on both banks at the time."

"As for how many people they've informed after returning home: no fewer than five hundred instances."

Fudge tried to maintain his composure, his short, plump fingers tapping restlessly on the desk as though displaying his confidence.

"Once the Department of Magical Catastrophes does its work, everything will sort itself out."

Rufus Scrimgeour glanced sideways at the Department Head of Magical Catastrophes standing beside him, rigid as Big Ben itself. Sweat dripped down his forehead, but he didn't dare wipe it. He swallowed hard, his voice trembling as he spoke.

"Minister..."

"The Department of Magical Catastrophes..."

Beside him, Chris, head of the Accident and Disaster Reversal Unit, stared firmly ahead, saying aloud what his superior didn't dare speak.

"The Department of Magical Catastrophes cannot muster sufficient staff to handle this incident. If it were last night, perhaps there would still be hope. But now, the population affected has far exceeded the most difficult task the Department has ever handled. We can no longer complete this mission."

Fudge's small, plump hands trembled. He finally removed his delicate, round spectacles and placed them on the desk. His entire body shook ever so slightly. Every Ministry staff member in the office could sense an impending storm.

"Those I name, stay behind. Calius Cowl, Rufus Scrimgeour, and Dolores Umbridge."

The three named individuals turned pale. The other department heads quickly got to their feet.

Bones was the first to leave the office. Barty glanced at Fudge, who was barely restraining himself, and left together with Ludo.

Piers, the last to leave, closed the door quietly behind him. Now, only Fudge and the three—Calius, Scrimgeour, and Umbridge—remained in the spacious office.

The moment the door closed, Fudge could no longer suppress the trembling at the corners of his mouth. The fat on his cheeks quivered with his movements as he gripped his quill and pointed it downward aggressively, as though he could stab the heart of whoever had caused the Secrecy Statute crisis.

"This order came from me! Managing magical exposure incidents falls within the Department of Magical Catastrophes' purview!"

The violent head movements sent his thinning hair flying. Spittle splattered across the alarming "Magical Exposure Risk Assessment Chart" before him.

"Who do they serve in the end, daring to be so bold as to defy my orders?"

"Dumbledore's control over the Ministry has reached such a degree—the entire Ministry is deceiving me! All staff members are loyal to Dumbledore, even those in the Auror Office aren't of one mind with me!"

"If I locked up all these department heads together, at least some would certainly be innocent, but if I lock up every other one, I'll definitely catch the guilty ones! All of them, absolutely all of them, are Dumbledore's followers and sycophants! I no longer know who the real Minister of Magic is! A bunch of fools who can't see the situation clearly, contemptible rabble!"

Fudge's body had risen from his chair. He strained every muscle to express his anger at the current situation, yet felt it still wasn't enough to fully convey his rage at Dumbledore—no, at those Ministry staff who sided with Dumbledore.

"Minister, I must defend these Aurors—they are good men, absolutely loyal to—"

"They are all Dumbledore fanatics, followers, and worshippers!"

"Minister, that remark is really too harsh!"

"These people aren't Ministry staff at all, they're simply Hogwarts Ministry branch!"

Fudge furiously smashed his spectacles on the ground. If Dumbledore were Minister, would these staff members brush him off with "I can't do that"? Would they only tell him now about what happened last night?! He'd even received Dumbledore's warning before the Ministry's report!

"Utterly disloyal!"

"The only reason you use the title of Ministry staff is because you still need the Ministry's salary, still control Ministry power. You only deliver first-hand intelligence to that old manipulator first, waiting for his instructions before telling me!"

"Ever since I took office, the Ministry has been shrouded in Dumbledore's shadow. Everyone yearns to be led by Dumbledore. You deliberately ignore my orders, leaving nothing but chaos in my tenure as though that would make Dumbledore shine!"

Fudge struck the desk, clenching his fists and waving them continuously. His entire face flushed so red that Umbridge worried he might collapse from the exertion.

"This is my first year of completely breaking free from his 'guidance'..."

"In my first year, I've had a magical exposure incident of this magnitude! I should have replaced every single department head with my own people eight hundred years ago. Learn from Andes!"

Fudge slumped back into his seat, exhausted. Scrimgeour, spattered with his saliva, felt a surge of disgust—learn from Andes? The French Minister surely couldn't be compared to this man who'd seized the position after Barty Crouch's son's scandal made him unelectable.

If he didn't need to keep a low profile and maintain appearances of loyalty to him... he wouldn't spare him a second thought anyway. As for Fudge's suspicion that Dumbledore was deliberately tripping him up, well, if Dumbledore wanted to, he'd never have stood a chance at this position in the first place!

"I've never lectured a department on loyalty."

"My success has always relied on personal charisma, winning over subordinates... yet somehow I reached the position of Minister!"

Fudge struck his own chest. He didn't notice the three people in the office desperately suppressing their smiles at this irony.

Scrimgeour and Calius exchanged a glance.

You were charmed by his personal magnetism?

I wasn't. I was bought with Galleons. Were you?

Neither. I'm looking for advancement.

Good then.

After this brief eye contact exchange, they resumed their proper posture of attentive subordinates.

"From start to finish, you've been openly disobeying while secretly working against me, quite the performance!"

"These people shamelessly sold out the Ministry, but every debt owed by the 'Dumbledore faction' will be repaid. I'll throw them out of the Ministry one by one, cast them into the darkest corners of Diagon Alley, throw them in Azkaban!"

Outside the door, Bones let out a soft laugh and patted the silently weeping Chris on the shoulder.

"Alright, Chris, calm down. He's just exercising his mouth... he never established proper security protocols, the night shift staff couldn't reach the Minister when they needed to submit their reports, and now that the situation has spiraled beyond control, he wants to blame it all on Dumbledore's machinations? Absolutely ridiculous."

Inside the office, Fudge wheezed heavily, like a winded ox.

"All my excellent orders have become hollow."

"How could I possibly accomplish anything in this environment?!"

"It's all over."

"Resistance has failed."

"But if you think I'll abandon the Ministry because of this... you're sorely mistaken. What's wrong with asking for Dumbledore's help? Do as you wish."

Fudge's crimson eyes turned toward Umbridge, blazing with such intense revulsion that it startled her.

"Do I need to teach you? Go request Professor Dumbledore's assistance immediately—"

Umbridge's legs were trembling so badly they nearly sparked smoke. She wished her feet would sprout wings to escape this office. When she opened the door, she almost collided with the tearfully sniffling Chris. Bones glared at her retreating figure and pulled Chris inside.

"Minister Fudge, we need to implement emergency measures."

"What plan do you have? They said themselves they're helpless. Can you conjure up hundreds of wizards skilled in Obliviate from nowhere?"

Fudge's crimson eyes turned toward Bones, and her frown deepened—her contempt for him growing with every moment.

"Even if we can't solve it completely, we can at least prevent it from spreading further!"

"We must immediately seek Professor Dumbledore's assistance. We need him to help us contact Mr. Scamander."

"Scamander? That magizoologist?"

Fudge snorted through his nose. Bones barely restrained herself from punching him in the face. Had he forgotten about the large-scale magical exposure incident in America that even the Ministry couldn't control?

"The venom of the Occamy can produce selective memory deletion effects. Combined with a massive rainstorm, we can extinguish this incident."

"Then why do we need to find that magizoologist?! Doesn't the Occamy venom only come from him? What about our Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures?"

"Does our Department Head have the ability to control which specific memories the Occamy venom deletes? Assuming he's truly a magical creature master with this ability, how do we solve the rainstorm? There won't be natural rain for the next week. Apart from Mr. Scamander's Thunderbird, only Professor Dumbledore can cast a weather charm covering all of London."

Fudge gripped his quill so tightly it creaked ominously as Bones questioned him relentlessly.

"I suppose I'll send Umbridge to seek Dumbledore's assistance then."

"Oh? That's actually a wise decision." Bones nodded. Fudge's final quiet comment had escaped her notice outside the door.

"You can go now. I have other matters to attend to—"

"Other matters? Minister, do you really think the Ministry's work ends here? We simply contact Professor Dumbledore and then wait idly?"

"What do you think we should do now?!"

"Immediately cast subtle Muggle-Repelling Charms at the edges of all London, or rather, at all critical transportation nodes. We must ensure this magical exposure remains contained within London. Even if the magical world becomes completely exposed, it doesn't matter as long as it stays within London's boundaries. Once memories are wiped, everything will be resolved."

"Beyond that, we must have wizards collect immediately all evidence of Westminster Bridge's damage, ensuring that after memory deletion, the Reparo spell restores it to its original condition. At minimum, Muggles mustn't detect any abnormalities. Or, the restoration work can begin now—after all, all magic-related memories will be deleted anyway."

"If you don't object... I'll begin handling it immediately. This will require the assistance of Director Scrimgeour and Director Calius."

Fudge waved his hand weakly, dismissing them. Finally, only he remained alone in the spacious office.

If it were Dumbledore... would this confounded Bones still act like this, completely disregarding my position as Minister?

Fudge crushed the fallen spectacles forcefully beneath his feet. His eyes had taken on an unnaturally crimson hue.

If Slint or others who retained memories from that one day that Hogwarts had reverted were to see this now, they would certainly recognize that familiar sensation.

The crimson glow in his eyes.

Fudge released the quill he'd bent in half, reaching down to pull a wooden box from the desk drawer.

He carefully opened the several chains wrapped around the box. These were no ordinary iron chains—they were magical artifacts crafted from chain-gold, possessing magical properties.

Opening the final wooden panel revealed a black leather-bound notebook, similar in size to a standard student's notebook. The cover was completely plain, devoid of any markings.

Fudge lifted it carefully and immediately felt an icy touch.

Fudge took a deep breath, activating the Occlumency he hadn't employed in ages.

He opened the notebook, took an ink bottle from the desk, and poured it onto the page. On the previously blank parchment, words gradually appeared as though written by an invisible hand.

"Oh, dear Minister Fudge, do you remember me?"

"Tom Riddle... tell me more. About Dumbledore—his past, his likes and dislikes, his... weaknesses."