I'm the King of Curry at Hogwarts

Chapter 323 I Say the Minister's Insight

"You must have read Rita Skeeter's article," Harry said softly, and it wasn't until he spoke that the others in the room noticed he had been woken up.

Fudge's face flushed almost imperceptibly, proving that his skin wasn't as thick as a city wall. But the moment that thought crossed his mind, Fudge's face quickly adopted a defiant and stubborn expression.

"Furthermore," Fudge said, looking at Dumbledore, "I've discovered that you've been withholding certain information about this child from me... He speaks Parsley, doesn't he? His behavior is strange in every way..."

Louis chuckled, looking at Hermione, and said in normal volume in Chinese, "Nonsense, utter nonsense..."

Hermione couldn't help but chuckle, and the commotion naturally caught Fudge's attention.

"Mr. Mountbatten, what are you talking about?" Fudge squinted his slightly cloudy eyes, his tone quite unpleasant.

"I say the minister's opinion is brilliant," Louis said cheerfully, turning to look at Hermione. The two exchanged a knowing smile, everything understood without a word.

It's always good to be able to tease Fudge a bit, and besides... Hermione understands Chinese; she's studied it on her own in the library in her spare time—of course, inspired by Lewis. She not only systematically studied Chinese, but also Latin and Greek.

"The more you know, the more wonderful your life will be," is Louis's mantra, and it has become their motto.

Before Fudge could react, Dumbledore coldly changed the subject: "I suppose you're referring to the pain Harry has been feeling from his scars?"

"So you're admitting he's been experiencing these aches and pains?" Fudge spoke rapidly, seemingly trying to solidify his theory. "Headaches? Nightmares? And probably—hallucinations?"

The way he looked at Harry was as if he were looking at a madman.

“Listen to me, Cornelius,” Dumbledore said, taking a step toward Fudge with an unwavering and intense look in his eyes that made Fudge involuntarily flinch. “Harry is as clear-headed as you and I… The scar on his forehead hasn’t clouded his judgment! I believe that Harry’s scar only aches when Voldemort is lurking nearby or when he feels a strong urge to kill.”

Dumbledore's emotions were so infectious and so frank that even a petty person like Fudge, whose heart was filled with nothing but petty schemes, took a half step back from Dumbledore, but his expression remained as stubborn as ever.

"Excuse me, Dumbledore, I've never heard of cursed scars functioning like an alarm bell before..."

As he spoke, Fudge couldn't hold back any longer. He looked at Harry and Dumbledore with an incredulous expression, as if he had heard a joke.

"I saw Voldemort back with my own eyes!" Harry shouted. He struggled to get out of bed, but Mrs. Weasley stopped him. "I saw the Death Eaters with my own eyes! I can name them! McNeil!"

When Harry called out the name, the scene from last night flashed through his mind, along with that Death Eater with his big yellow teeth and arrogant demeanor.

"He's already been declared innocent, Potter." Fudge's tone was unfriendly. He glanced at Dumbledore, trying to find a hint of instruction on his face, but unfortunately, Dumbledore was expressionless, and he saw nothing. "He's currently working at the Ministry of Magic!" Fudge added.

"Avery! Nott! Crabbe! Goyle!" Harry shouted breathlessly. He remembered all the Death Eaters Voldemort had called out last night. He believed that even if those Death Eaters turned to ashes, he would still recognize them.

"You're just repeating the names of people who were declared innocent thirteen thousand years ago and weren't Death Eaters!" Fudge roared angrily. "You can find those names in past trial reports! For God's sake, Dumbledore—I know, at the end of last year, this boy's head was full of bizarre, fabricated stories, and his lies got more and more outlandish, and you actually believed them all—I think it's just an act to get attention! This boy can talk to snakes, Dumbledore, and you still think he's trustworthy?"

At this point, Fudge's face turned completely red. He glared at Harry with an expression that was hard for others to understand, as if Harry were his father's killer.

It's understandable, after all, it involves his bottom, so Fudge's hysteria is to be expected. However, he has completely lost his composure and has lost all the composure that a Minister of Magic should have.

"You fool!" Professor McGonagall was furious with the cowardly Minister of Magic. She shouted, "Don't Barty Crouch Jr.'s plot and Barty Crouch Sr.'s attack prove everything? This is no random act by a madman! He even planned! Premeditated! Organized his infiltration of Hogwarts! And he caused all sorts of trouble during the finals!"

"I don't see why not." Fudge's face flushed red, his anger no less than Professor McGonagall's. He argued loudly, "In my opinion, you're trying to create a sense of panic and ruin everything we've worked so hard to build over the past thirteen years!"

Harry was stunned. He could hardly believe his eyes and ears. Fudge had always been arrogant and somewhat conceited, but he was fundamentally kind. He never expected that this angry little wizard standing before him would so resolutely refuse to believe that his orderly, stable, and comfortable world could be destroyed—he couldn't understand why Fudge was so adamant in refusing to believe that Voldemort could rise again.

"Voldemort is back," Dumbledore said again. "Fudge, if you accept this fact immediately and take the necessary measures, we may still be able to turn the tide. The most important first step is to free Azkaban from the Dementors' control!"

"Nonsense!" Fudge yelled again. "Remove the Dementors? I'd be fired the moment I suggested that! Half of us can only sleep soundly at night because we know there are Dementors guarding Azkaban!"

"Cornell, if we knew you'd put Voldemort's most dangerous cronies in charge of those who'd do his bidding at a moment's notice, the rest of us wouldn't sleep a wink!" Dumbledore pleaded earnestly, trying to sway Fudge. "Those guys can't possibly be loyal to you, Fudge! Voldemort can offer them far more power and pleasure than you can—after all, you're not as unscrupulous as Voldemort, giving him souls at will… Once Voldemort has the support of Dementors, his former cronies will return to his side, and then it will be very difficult for you to stop him from regaining the power he had thirteen years ago!"

Fudge's mouth opened and closed, as if no words could express his anger.

"The second measure you must take, and you must act immediately," Dumbledore continued, "is to send a message to the giants."

"Send someone to deliver a message to the giant?" Fudge exclaimed, suddenly regaining his ability to speak. "What kind of madness is this?"

"It's not too late to extend a hand of friendship to them," Dumbledore said. "Otherwise, Voldemort will win them over. He's done it before; of all the wizards, only he can offer them rights and freedom!"

"You—you must be joking!" Fudge gasped, shaking his head as he backed away from Dumbledore. "If the wizarding world found out I've been associating with giants—people hate giants to the core, Dumbledore—my career is over!"

"Cornell, you're too obsessed with your position; it's clouded your judgment," Dumbledore said, his voice rising, the aura of power emanating from him palpable, his eyes gleaming once more. "You value so-called pure wizarding blood too much! You always have! You haven't realized that a person's birth isn't important; what matters is the kind of person they become!"

"Let me tell you now—if you heed my advice and take some action, the Ministry of Magic and the entire wizarding world will forever remember you, and will regard you as the bravest and greatest Minister of Magic in history. If you do not take action—history will also remember: it was your inaction that gave Voldemort a second chance to destroy the world we have painstakingly rebuilt! For this, you will bear historical responsibility!"

Dumbledore's words struck Fudge's heart like a hammer blow. "Absurd," he muttered, continuing to back away step by step, "madness... utter madness. I never imagined, Dumbledore, that even you would go mad..."

Then came a silence. Madam Pomfrey stood frozen by Harry's bedside, her hand covering her mouth. Aunt Molly remained standing before Harry, her hands on his shoulders to prevent him from getting up. Bill, Ron, and Hermione stared at Fudge in astonishment.

“Wetherby should really come and see this, my God…” Ron said in a very low voice to Louis beside him, “to see what kind of worms these Ministry of Magic bureaucrats he idolizes are, my God…”

Louis glanced at Ron with amusement. It's been almost a year, how come he still hasn't forgotten the "Wetherby" joke?

"If you remain so stubborn and insist on your own way," Dumbledore said, "we shall part ways. You shall do what you deem appropriate, and I shall act according to my own will."

There was no threat in Dumbledore's voice; it sounded like a mere statement. But Fudge flew into a rage, as if Dumbledore were approaching him with a wand in hand.

"Very well, very well, Dumbledore," he said, waving a finger menacingly. "I've always given you ample freedom. I've always respected you. I may not approve of some of your decisions, but I've always kept quiet. Not many people would allow you to hire werewolves, retain Hagrid, or decide what to teach students without consulting the Ministry. However, if you're prepared to defy me..."

"The only one I want to oppose," Dumbledore sighed deeply, "is Voldemort... If you also oppose him, Cornelius, then we're still on the same side."

Fudge seemed unable to think of a reply. In fact, deep down, he still believed Dumbledore and Harry's words about "Voldemort's return." That's why he didn't want to offend Dumbledore, since only Dumbledore could deal with Voldemort.

His legs trembled slightly; Dumbledore's words had deeply shaken him. He swayed back and forth for a moment, twirling the top hat he wore on his head with both hands. Finally, he spoke, his voice tinged with pleading, "He won't come back, Dumbledore. He can't... he absolutely can't..."

Everyone knows that this plea wasn't directed at anyone in particular, but rather a rejection of the potential truth. Voldemort's return isn't just about his position being in jeopardy; in fact, if that madman were in this world, even if he were the Minister of Magic, his life would be in danger.

At the same time, he knew better than anyone that Dumbledore was right: Dementors were unreliable, completely without principles, and would obey anyone without any moral compass. And now it seemed that Voldemort was the most suitable person for them to serve—after all, Voldemort, this murderous maniac, didn't mind providing them with a constant supply of souls, which was enough to make them serve him to the death.

Dumbledore glanced at Snape, who immediately turned and walked out of the medical wing. A short while later, just as Fudge was pacing back and forth impatiently, Snape returned, dragging along a figure that Fudge recognized very well.

It's Barty Crouch Jr.

He was restrained by Snape's spell and could only obediently walk ahead. But to be honest, Snape could only restrain him from using magic, but he couldn't stop him from lunging at Fudge after seeing him. Fudge was so frightened that he backed away, but he lost his balance, tripped, and fell down.

Luckily, Ron reacted quickly and caught Fudge as he fell; otherwise, his embarrassment would have been far more than just this.

"Impedimenta!" Louis reacted quickly, pointing a finger at Barty Crouch Jr., which stopped him from lunging forward.

Lewis glanced at Professor Snape, and whether it was his imagination or not, he seemed to see a fleeting hint of schadenfreude in the professor's eyes.

He was certain that his professor had done it on purpose... He had definitely released Barty Crouch Jr.'s spell the moment he entered the room; he was definitely trying to scare Fudge and make him look foolish.

It seems Snape harbors quite a grudge against Fudge, and Louis is secretly delighted. He doesn't actually have a problem with Fudge; he's simply a comedian.

(End of this chapter)