Chapter 491: The Hat and the Ring

Chapter 491: The Hat and the Ring

Chapter 491: The Hat and the Ring

The snap of a camera echoed as several young wizards stared at a stout man holding a smoky camera, the source of the sound. Rita Skeeter, beside the photographer, eagerly commanded for more shots. This was groundbreaking news, comparable to the recent protests in France by the Ilvermorny students, or perhaps even more significant in Rita's eyes. While the President of the American magical congress hadn't resigned, Rita felt it was inevitable for Fudge to step down.

Suddenly, Rita found herself the center of attention. "The public deserves the truth, um... I'll report accurately," she insincerely smiled.

Rita, donned in a dark red robe with glittery edges, was less conspicuous at night compared to her previous appearances, evading the notice of many young wizards.

Harry noticed her nails had changed from bright red to emerald green.

"An unpleasant person," Ron muttered, adding, "but not entirely dreadful. Besides being initially annoying, she does things somewhat decently. Helped us out a few times, quite strange..."

Collins grunted nearby.

"What?" Ron asked, puzzled.

"Have you not seen her recent articles?" Cedric hesitated, "After months of silence, she's been publishing extensively, creating false heroes, fabricating private lives..." Autumn had had a few arguments about this, though they were happy disagreements.

Bozzo, the short photographer, kept quiet but was temperamental. "Make way! These photos could win awards," he gruffly said, pushing a young wizard aside, capturing suitable angles. With a few clicks and purplish smoke, Fudge's imposing face was captured on film.

At that moment, Felix emerged from a makeshift tent, cleared his throat, and surveyed the surroundings.

"Professor, you're awake!"

"Professor Hape—"

"Thank goodness!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exclaimed in surprise, diverting their attention from Rita Skeeter's odd curly hair and the black camera continually emitting purple mist, focusing on Felix.

"Thank you, thank you all," Felix said. "You truly helped a lot. If my... treatment had been interrupted, it would have caused quite an impact." In an instant, Harry and his friends understood his unspoken words.

Other students gleaned the truth from Hermione's earlier remarks. They waved their wands excitedly, Fred loudly exclaimed, "It's what we should do, Professor. How many detentions have you helped us escape from?"

Fred's cheeky comment shattered the solemn atmosphere, surprisingly gaining nods of agreement from several students.

"Professor Hape taught me the technique for the fishbone hex—"

"He knows everything about the creatures in the Black Lake!"

"They say the house-elves in the kitchens have a mysterious cookbook contributed by Professor Hape—"

"No wonder I often hear about the professor and Valen having midnight snacks—"

"Professor Hape caught me trespassing in the Forbidden Forest, not only did he not punish me, he invited me to explore with him... We encountered terrifying eight-eyed spiders, and I had nightmares for two days! In hindsight, it might have been arranged by the professor..."

"Quite cunning, Professor!"

The students buzzed with conversation. Professor McGonagall's lips tightened into a line, her stern gaze shifting between the students and Felix.

"Let it go, Miller, see how popular he is," Professor Flitwick chuckled.

"In layman's terms, he leads the infractions, but I didn't see..." Professor McGonagall hesitated, "We'll let bygones be bygones, but it's not to set a precedent."

As the voices settled, Felix turned his gaze toward Fudge and the haughty Aurors from the Ministry. They stood like pumpkin lights, adding festivity to the Christmas hall, unmoving.

"Allow me to defend myself," he said. "If the Minister still thinks I'm responsible for tonight's events, I am willing to cooperate."

"Professor!" Harry looked at him anxiously.

"It's fine," Felix shook his head at him, hesitated for a moment, then said to Hermione, "Miss Granger, could you please help?"

"Ouch—" Ron yelped in pain. "Easy, Madam Pomfrey."

"Weren't you just heroes a moment ago?" Madam Pomfrey scowled at him. "That was an Unforgivable Curse—"

"But it was my leg that got injured," Ron protested.

"...Alright, you have a point. I won't argue with a patient..." She rambled on, leading the trio to a nearby temporary tent for treatment.

Dumbledore timely arranged for professors to escort the students back to the castle.

"While I appreciate your tremendous integrity and courage tonight, I must remind you that it's very late. Go on, rest. There won't be any classes in this final week of the school year..."

The students erupted in cheers. Soon after, a few yawns escaped, like a contagious wave, and soon everyone was yawning, heavy with fatigue.

While no one was looking, Fudge slipped away like a fat old rat.

"Wait, Minister, you've left your hat—" George picked up a dusty hat from the ground, calling out to Fudge. Fudge mechanically turned back, and with a spell, the hat flew towards him, smacking him on the nose.

The students who witnessed this scene chuckled softly.

The Death Eaters showed no reaction, trudging away with heavy steps.

"Draco," Felix, satisfied with Fudge's embarrassment, called out to Draco who was walking behind. "Pass a message to Miss Bones for me; I'll make time to visit her in the next couple of days."

Draco nodded.

Fudge heard this but hesitated, not turning back. He stumbled several times before disappearing from Felix's sight.

"I used to get along somewhat well with him," Dumbledore murmured softly, gazing into the distance. "At the beginning of his tenure as Minister, he'd come to me for advice constantly, seeking guidance. But later, his confidence grew, and he could make decisions on his own. Perhaps, because of his cautious past experiences, he became enamored with power, and he now eyes everyone who could threaten his position..."

"Albus," Felix smiled faintly, "I'm already looking forward to the days without Fudge."

...

Late at night.

The room was dimly lit, the portraits of former headmasters snoring softly on the walls.

Dumbledore sat quietly behind his desk, lost in thought. The silverware on the table produced faint noises. After a while, he opened the left drawer, which held a locket box and a wand.

These two items were both related to Voldemort—the former was one of his Horcruxes, and the latter was his yew wand, which Dumbledore had seized from Barty Crouch on Christmas night.

But apart from the locket box and wand, there was now a ring in the drawer. It was large, seemingly made of gold, roughly crafted, with a heavy black stone in the middle, cracked.

"The Resurrection Stone... not yet the time." Dumbledore murmured softly, his finger brushing the black gem on the ring.

With great restraint, he closed the drawer, exhaling softly.

"You're getting old, Dumbledore," remarked the Sorting Hat on the shelf.

"Thank you for the reminder," Dumbledore smiled faintly. Then he delved into contemplation again. "Just one more or two?"

After a moment of silence, he waved his wand, summoning the silver phoenix guardian calmly. "Fawkes, come to my office."

"3.8k words today. The fourth part of the plot is about to conclude. The author will spend time reviewing the previous chapters, tying up any loose ends, so updates might be slightly fewer than usual. Thank you for your understanding, dear readers."

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