0443 Fudge’s Attitude
Bryan shook his head slightly. Dumbledore was as astute as ever.
"The witch I dueled tonight intended to take Harry away—" Their gazes met again as Bryan calmly continued, "Perhaps you've already heard about Harry's dream during the summer holiday that caused his scar to react. The woman who appeared in Harry's dream was her—"
"Tom has indeed found himself a capable ally—" Dumbledore said calmly. "When I heard there was a witch whose age and magical power were not far from yours, you can't imagine how surprised I was, Bryan. So, are you saying this young lady wanted to take Harry away at the World Cup, following Tom's orders?"
"Probably not, actually—" Bryan replied shaking his head. "Voldemort was furious about Cliodna's appearance at the Quidditch field tonight. While it's true that he is indeed plotting to get his hands-on Harry, his plan certainly wouldn't involve such a brazen and public attempt at kidnapping - especially not in front of a hundred thousand witnesses. He probably has another scheme. And interestingly enough, I suspect it's a plan that hasn't received his new companion's full approval. This irrational move tonight was likely Cliodna acting on her own initiative, outside of Voldemort's direct orders."
"Cliodna—" Dumbledore repeated, the name rolling off his tongue with a hint of recognition.
Bryan's mention of Voldemort wanting to get Harry didn't surprise Dumbledore at all. In fact, both of them had anticipated this to some extent. It was the witch's name that Bryan uttered that greatly intrigued Dumbledore. "If I'm not mistaken, this rather unique name should come from—"
"You're not wrong, Headmaster," Bryan confirmed, cutting off Dumbledore's speculation. "The name indeed comes from the Druid mythology. It's a name passed down through generations as a surname by the leaders of that sect. Cliodna is the current High Priestess of the Druid Order—"
"Well, this is truly a surprising turn of events," Dumbledore blinked. "Although I've never had the opportunity to deal with them directly, I am somewhat familiar with the reputation of the Druid Order. I was under the impression that they were, in general, peace-loving individuals, more concerned with maintaining the balance of nature than involving themselves in the conflicts of the wizarding world.
Well, it seems I'll have to look at Tom in a new light. How on earth did he manage to persuade them to work for him?"
"That's something I'm curious about as well." Bryan's eyes flickered. There were still many aspects of this situation that he was actively investigating, and much of the information he already possessed was too sensitive or speculative to be fully disclosed.
Looking at the appropriately puzzled expression on Bryan's face, Dumbledore's beard twitched slightly, but in the end, he chose not to pursue the matter further.
The two took the elevator to the first underground level, where Fudge's office was located. After the Greyback incident, Bryan had frequented the Ministry for a period of time, so he was quite familiar with the place.
Pushing open the door, they found that Fudge wasn't alone in the spacious, luxurious office. Rufus Scrimgeour, the Head of the Auror Office, was there too, reporting something to Fudge. When he saw Bryan enter the office first, Rufus immediately closed his mouth, his usually lion-like sharp gaze now avoiding Bryan's scrutiny.
Rufus didn't like Bryan. He always believed that Bryan wasn't an upright wizard, and at the press conference on the elimination of Greyback, Bryan's act of giving Fiendfyre a new name was undoubtedly an attempt to deceive the public, to sugarcoat a dangerous and destructive force of dark magic.
"Ah, Bryan, you're here already!" Earlier in the VIP box, Fudge had also suffered some injury; his arm had been hurt by the falling ceiling. Now, his right arm was in a bandage. Before Bryan and Dumbledore entered, he had been sitting in his chair listening to Rufus's report, which seemed to be causing him some difficulty, judging by the reluctance on his puffy face.
Upon seeing Bryan, Fudge instinctively started to stand up to greet him, but halfway through raising his bottom, he sat back down for some inexplicable reason. After fidgeting uncomfortably for a few moments, he gave Bryan a somewhat awkward smile.
Bryan noticed Fudge's small gestures, but maintained a smile and a respectful tone. "Headmaster Dumbledore informed me that you wanted to see me, and I indeed should provide an explanation to the magical community about tonight's events, that's why I came here without delay. But it seems you're dealing with other important matters. Should I perhaps come back later?"
"Oh, no—no, that won't be necessary at all!" Fudge hurriedly waved his hand. " You- you should definitely stay, Bryan. This matter actually requires your help too. Ahem, I mean... Rufus, don't you have your own business to attend to?"
Rufus, being very tactful, quietly and decisively left the Minister's office.
Now, only Fudge, Bryan, and Dumbledore remained in the office. The trio made their way to a circular conference table, its polished surface reflecting the flickering flames of nearby candles. As they settled into their seats, Bryan's voice broke the silence.
"What's going on, Minister Fudge?" he inquired, his piercing gaze focused on the Minister's face. "Is Scrimgeour facing some difficulties?"
"Everyone in the department asks me what to do when they see me!" Fudge continued, his words tumbling out in a frantic rush. "And now, you're also asking me what to do, Dumbledore. Oh, I'd like to ask someone else what the Ministry should do!"
"Needless to say, we've become a complete laughingstock, haven't we?" Fudge's voice dripped with bitter sarcasm. "This can't be kept secret. By tomorrow morning, the whole world will know what kind of Quidditch World Cup we hosted. The Daily Prophet—oh yes, they'll certainly sing your praises, Bryan, But what about the Ministry? How am I supposed to explain to wizards worldwide that so many unidentified dark wizards suddenly invaded our supposedly foolproof Quidditch World Cup and caused a—oh, a duel of the century!"
Fudge's fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white as he breathed heavily.
Bryan lowered his gaze. Fudge's current outburst was more or less what he had expected. Dumbledore, already accustomed to such scenes, sighed softly, "You're the Minister of Magic, Cornelius. People naturally expect you to come up with solutions."
Fudge let out a dry, humorless laugh. His gaze, filled with a mixture of hatred and resentment, fell upon his seat behind the ministerial desk. At least at this moment, he sincerely wished he wasn't the Minister of Magic for Britain.
The office fell into an uncomfortable silence. Bryan, sensing that it wasn't yet his time to speak, remained quiet, as his eyes continued to follow Fudge's agitated movements. Dumbledore with his years of experience in dealing with such situations also kept his thoughts to himself. He knew all too well that offering unsought suggestions at this juncture would only serve to aggravate Fudge's already fragile nerves.
The silence stretched on, broken only by the soft ticking of a clock on the mantelpiece and Fudge's increasingly labored breathing.
Finally, Fudge's political instincts began to reassert themselves. He had, after all, been in the position of Minister of Magic for nearly half a decade. While his abilities might be somewhat lacking in certain areas, he was certainly qualified as a politician.
Having vented his frustrations, Fudge felt slightly better, though his expression remained troubled. He turned to face Dumbledore; his eyes narrowed in thought. "I think the Dementors of Azkaban need to be mobilized, Dumbledore," he said, his voice carrying a note of decisiveness.
Bryan's face remained emotionless, but internally, he couldn't help but chuckle. Dumbledore's bright blue eyes, peering over his half-moon spectacles, flashed with obvious resignation. It was clear that the method Fudge proposed hadn't escaped either of their predictions.
"The experience of capturing Sirius Black has taught us, Cornelius," Dumbledore said carefully, "that those life-draining creatures from Azkaban will only cause more trouble for you, rather than being of any help."
Fudge's expression soured at Dumbledore's gentle rebuke. He wasn't new to dealing with Dumbledore and was well aware of some of the tricks he liked to use. "Alright, don't hold back, Dumbledore, If you have any good suggestions, just say them!"
Dumbledore nodded, seemingly not offended by Fudge's rough manner.
"The aftermath is currently the most important issue; The Ministry must bear the losses. All treatment costs for wizards injured in the turmoil should be covered by the Ministry. For those who unfortunately perished, the Ministry needs to send personnel to discuss compensation with their families.
My suggestion is that the Ministry makes a public statement, using all the profits from this World Cup for consolation and compensation."
The flesh on Fudge's cheeks trembled violently, his complexion paling noticeably. "All the profits—" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.
Compensation was necessary; Fudge knew this without Dumbledore telling him. But all the profits from hosting the World Cup... This wasn't a decision he could make alone, involving as it did the allocation of significant Ministry resources. Yet, he had to admit that such a gesture would indeed gain the understanding and goodwill of many people.
"Very well," Fudge said finally, his voice stressed. "I'll consider your suggestion carefully, Dumbledore. But the key issue is that we must provide an explanation for tonight's attack—"
Before Fudge could finish his thought, Bryan's voice cut through the tension, startling both the Minister and Dumbledore. "The group of wizards who attacked the arena, the witch who appeared later, and the ugly wizard who finally appeared in the sky above the stadium—they're all part of the same group. This is something the Ministry needs to emphasize to the public."
Bryan's sudden interjection left Fudge looking startled and Dumbledore falling into silence.
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