Who am I?
Where am I?
What happened?
Fudge was now extremely panicked.
He had only reviewed some documents—how had such a massive label suddenly been slapped on him?
Could anyone explain what was going on?
Umbridge, one of the Ministry of Magic's most reliable lackeys, stepped forward and hurriedly handed Fudge a stack of freshly published newspapers.
When Fudge glanced at them, he was immediately utterly bewildered.
Scrimgeour, couldn't you do anything right?
Did you think you could just seize this little devil like that?
Forget how the acolytes' influence had already spread across Britain—the group of pure-bloods backing them, led by Malfoy, was something the Ministry of Magic couldn't afford to provoke!
Moreover, he had only done it to protect ordinary wizards!
The spittle of British wizards could drown a man!
Fudge steadied himself by gripping the table.
"Please calm down, everyone. This... this is just a misunderstanding!"
"A misunderstanding? What kind of misunderstanding results in an eleven-year-old being arrested and dragged to the Ministry of Magic?"
This group had no intention of letting Fudge off the hook, so they pressed the issue directly.
"If it weren't for all those wizards watching at the time, would the British Ministry of Magic even have considered throwing him in Azkaban?"
"No, no!"
"I think Scrimgeour just asked him to come in for some questions. Once he understands the situation, he'll surely send Mr. Grindelwald back safely!"
Fudge was completely bewildered and scrambled to explain.
"Interrogation? Does an interrogation require Auror escorts? Does it require threatening people's lives? Do you think we're blind?"
"If the British Ministry of Magic doesn't give us a reasonable explanation today, we'll take this to the International Confederation of Wizards—to the Wizengamot!"
"That's right—we don't believe the British Ministry of Magic controls everything!"
Fudge clutched a handkerchief and kept wiping the sweat from his forehead.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please trust us, trust the British Ministry of Magic. We will definitely deliver justice for Mr. Grindelwald!"
He turned and angrily rebuked Umbridge.
"Why aren't you sending someone to Scrimgeour to bring Mr. Grindelwald out? What are you standing there for?"
Umbridge replied aggrievedly, "Minister, it's not that I don't want to send someone—it's just that the Ministry of Magic is swarmed by British wizards right now, and everyone's tied up maintaining order. We can't spare anyone!"
"You idiot, are you not human? I'm asking you—are you even human?"
Umbridge jolted as if from a dream and hurried toward the door. Before she could step out, she spotted several figures approaching.
What brings you here?
Arthur Weasley frowned slightly and glanced at Lucius beside him.
Lucius scoffed dismissively, "Do I need to report to you about coming here?"
"I have important business today—I don't have time to argue with you!" Arthur shot Lucius a look and strode straight toward Fudge.
"You talk like nobody's business is bad!"
Lucius didn't press further and led the group of pure-bloods into the office.
"Mr. Malfoy? And... Mr. Parkinson and Mr. Greengrass?"
"Mr. Nott, you've come too?"
"This is..."
As soon as Fudge saw these people approaching, he immediately felt a sinking dread.
Turning and spotting Arthur and Mrs. Weasley, he grew even more certain of his unease.
"It's nothing—we just came to ask how Mr. Grindelwald is doing."
Lucius didn't speak as aggressively as the previous group of wizards, but his presence alone made his position unmistakable.
Anyone could tell that bringing along several pure-blooded family patriarchs meant they weren't here merely to ask questions!
The implication was clear: I'm showing you respect right now—let's handle this civilly.
If you don't know what's good for you, don't blame me for getting rude.
Lucius and his group were obviously far more significant than the earlier wizards.
No matter how renowned those previous ones were, they only spoke for themselves and couldn't threaten Fudge's position.
Lucius and his allies were another matter entirely!
Any one of them was a major figure in the British wizarding world!
If they united against Fudge, they could truly drag him down from the Minister's seat!
"Of course it's nothing! Mr. Grindelwald was just invited to the Ministry for a few questions!"
"I was just about to send someone to check if it was over, but I didn't expect you to arrive first, Mr. Malfoy."
Fudge was no longer the composed figure from moments ago; every gesture brimmed with eager enthusiasm.
"That's for the best!" Mrs. Weasley snorted.
She had once been an Auror herself and strongly disapproved of Scrimgeour's ruthless tactics in pursuit of his goals.
Even if the man was the frontline in hunting dark wizards!
"Minister Fudge, if you don't mind, could you arrange for us to meet Mr. Grindelwald first?"
"At the very least, we need to confirm his safety."
Lucius was also on Scrimgeour's list of targets and knew the Auror chief all too well.
Argus had been under watch for some time, and now that Scrimgeour had finally nabbed him, Lucius needed to see for himself to feel at ease.
"This..."
Fudge hesitated.
Scrimgeour had been monitoring Argus for quite a while, and with him finally in custody, who knew what methods the Auror might employ?
If anyone witnessed that, the Ministry would have no defense!
"Mr. Malfoy, as you know, you can't just come and go from the Ministry as you please..."
"Alright, I'll send Umbridge over right now to relay a message to Scrimgeour..."
"Minister Fudge, I'll go!"
Arthur volunteered for the job.
But Fudge wouldn't dare let him!
He had dispatched his trusted aides precisely to create a buffer if Argus was being roughed up.
If Weasley went, what good was a buffer?
The man might just draw his wand and clash with Scrimgeour on the spot!
Though Weasley and Malfoy both hailed from the Sacred Twenty-Eight, their influence and power were worlds apart.
Moreover, Arthur worked under Fudge, so the Minister's attitude toward him was far cooler than toward Lucius.
"Arthur Weasley, I told you—send Umbridge!"
Before Arthur could respond, Lucius cut in.
The very fact that Lucius had elevated the Malfoy family to its current stature proved his keen wits.
Fudge's motives were plain as day.
"Minister Fudge, I think it would be more fitting for Mr. Weasley to take a look."
"It's not that I doubt Ms. Umbridge."
"You know Mr. Scrimgeour better than I do. If something goes wrong, I'm afraid Ms. Umbridge won't be able to rein him in."
On this point, Fudge refused to yield an inch.
"Mr. Malfoy, please trust me—trust the British Ministry of Magic."
Just then, an furious female voice rang out.
"Trust the Ministry of Magic? Your fate is to rot in a trial chamber as a dark wizard!"
Professor McGonagall, like an enraged lioness, stormed into the questioning before even fully entering the room.
Everyone turned toward the voice and saw Dumbledore approaching Fudge's office at a measured pace.
All four Hogwarts heads were now assembled!
...
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