Chapter 271: The Thoughts of Fudge

"I detest change."

In a small room behind the curtains, Fudge sat gloomily on the other side of a door, deep in thought. When alone, his expressions were unguarded, and anyone seeing his face would never associate him with passivity or lack of initiative.

Only after the visitors in the reception room dispersed did he step out from the room. Walworth Sidrick returned once more, standing before Fudge.

"Minister, Mr. Harp has already left. He departed with Mr. Scamander; they seemed to be acquainted."

"Is that so?" Fudge murmured softly. Scamander, another name that didn't evoke pleasant feelings. His breathing grew heavy, as if trapped in a web, sinking deeper with each struggle, unable to break free.

And at the center of this web stood an old man with silver-white beard and deep blue eyesthis man was Albus Dumbledore.

No one wanted to be a puppet. Though in the beginning of his tenure, to secure his position, he made three trips a day to Hogwarts, positioning himself alongside the greatest wizards of the time. After years of such gestures, he finally cemented his place as the Minister of Magic.

Yet, in the past year or two, he'd done so less frequently. Especially after his outstanding performance during last year's protests at Beauxbatons, where he earned himself several points. Interestingly, Felix Harp was present there too, a significant figure at the time.

Thinking of this, Fudge scratched at his growing unease. He inquired of Sidrick, "Has Barty Crouch made any recent moves?"

Sidrick understood his implication. "Not really. He's been preparing for next year's Triwizard Tournament, or should I say, the Quadwizard Tournament... Who knows? There have been suggestions to involve more countries. They're definitely going to have to readjust the Triwizard Cup, why not add a few more?"

Fudge nodded gently. Barty Crouch was a formidable contender just below him. In fact, had it not been for the scandal involving his son's collaboration with three other Death Eaters in torturing the Longbottoms, which tarnished his reputation after the war, Fudge wouldn't have caught the opportunity to take over.

Not long afterward, Crouch's wife passed away, and his son died in Azkaban. This left Crouch in a slump, confined to the International Magical Cooperation Department. But Fudge wouldn't forget how the iron-handed Head of the Magical Law Enforcement during the war had made his mark.

Equally strong-willed, the former Minister of Magic, Mirasen Bagno, had favored Barty Crouch as her successor. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, certain events came to light.

Fudge pondered and then asked about the organization of the Quidditch World Cup. Sidrick's expression turned sour this time. "Progress isn't smooth. Mr. Bagman has just started, he sent his subordinate Bertha Jorkins to investigate the site's environment. But Miss Jorkins is notorious for her poor memory; she can't even keep simple reports straight..."

"Understood."

"Also, what's Umbridge up to? Why did I hear that she went to Diagon Alley, and I've received several complaints."

"Minister, it's actually Knockturn Alley. We received accurate intelligence that Sirius Black appeared there, attacking a wizard. It seems to be a dark wizard... Anyway, he managed to steal his wand."

Fudge frowned; this wasn't what he had expected. "Send her back to Hogwarts," he wanted to say Hogwarts, but Dumbledore was strongly against it, and given the unpleasant incident with the Dementors running wild before, this matter brought back some headaches. And to think this could be related to Felix Harponly Merlin knew how surprised he was when he learned the Dementors had shrunken.

Since then, he had been paying attention to this person. His previous titlesa Muggle expert, a Hogwarts professordidn't amount to much, at most commendations for his potential. But recently, this man's name had been frequently mentioned in his ears.

Suppressing the attack by Beauxbatons students on the international conference venue; curing the Longbottoms, sentenced to death by the Dementor's Kiss; and drastically shrinking Azkaban's Dementor guards...

On the surface, there was no connection, but all of this actually represented one thing: strength. This Felix Harp possessed remarkably strong practical abilities.

'Is he another Dumbledore? How can I make him work for me?' These thoughts churned in Fudge's mind.

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