Chapter 67: Crowded People
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There are plenty who may criticize Professor McGonagall for her past, especially her romantic experiences.
Yet, no one could deny that she was a perfect Head of House and an outstanding teacher. When her students faced danger or injustice, she would always rise to protect them, no matter which house they belonged to.
Seeing the prominent figures of Hogwarts gathered together, Fudge could no longer maintain his composure and quickly exited his office.
"Professor Dumbledore, and the four heads of houses—it's been a while," he began, trying to sound calm. "I suppose you're here for..."
"Minister Fudge, I would like to know what crime my student has committed," Professor McGonagall interrupted sharply. "Does it justify him being dragged to the Ministry and imprisoned?"
Fudge hesitated, fumbling for words. "Well... um... I've sent someone to check on the situation. Please, just wait a moment."
"Cornelius," Dumbledore's voice was firm as he interrupted, his eyes piercing. "You might want to visit the Ministry's main hall. It may change your perspective."
Fudge looked puzzled. "The main hall? What's in the main hall?"
"Let's go," Dumbledore said, not giving Fudge any room for excuses. "I think we should all check on how Dyroth is doing." With that, Dumbledore strode toward the Auror's office, leaving Fudge scrambling to catch up.
Arthur Weasley and Mrs. Molly greeted the others, and soon the rest followed. Even Lucius Malfoy, despite his usual disdain, showed some respect to the greatest white wizard of their time.
Dumbledore glanced around, noticing that the people gathered outside Fudge's office were all here for Dyroth. His heart sank. Besides being impressed, he felt a growing sense of fear.
Famous wizards, powerful pure-blood families, and now, Hogwarts—this young man had unknowingly formed a vast network of support across the British wizarding world. With the Saint's shop's popularity and the public goodwill from this incident, Dyroth's reputation was sure to soar further.
This posed a significant challenge to Dumbledore's future plans, especially concerning Harry. A sense of regret gnawed at him—he had hesitated too long. Dyroth was no longer someone who could be easily dealt with.
As they made their way to the Ministry's hall, Fudge was struck by the sight before him. His eyes widened in disbelief.
The Ministry was packed—people everywhere!
Dozens of Aurors and staff were frantically trying to maintain order. Fudge hurriedly grabbed one of the Aurors, his hand instinctively brushing the wand at his side.
"What's going on here?" he demanded.
"Minister, it's in the papers!" the Auror responded, sweating. "They're saying we've abused our power and arrested people unjustly. Some of the reports even suggest..."
"Suggest what?" Fudge snapped, veins bulging in frustration.
"That we've colluded with the goblins of Gringotts to stage this, all to seize the Saints Group's property."
Fudge's face flushed with anger. "Who printed that rubbish?"
"Rita Skeeter."
Hearing that name, Fudge nearly fainted on the spot. He clenched his fists, trying to control his growing frustration.
Stepping forward, he addressed the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, I am Cornelius Fudge, the British Minister of Magic. Please, let's remain calm. If you have any concerns, I am here to address them."
His words were met with angry shouts and jeers.
Helpless, Fudge turned to the one person he least wanted to ask for help—Dumbledore.
Dumbledore stepped forward and, in a calm but commanding voice, said, "Quiet."
The word was not shouted, yet it cut through the noise, reaching every ear in the room.
"It's Professor Dumbledore!" someone exclaimed.
"Is he here to support Mr. Grindelwald?" another whispered.
The crowd gradually hushed, their attention now fixed on the group from Hogwarts.
"I understand your concerns," Dumbledore began. "As Mr. Grindelwald's headmaster, I am also distressed by what has occurred. But please, trust me. Trust Hogwarts. And trust the Ministry of Magic. We will ensure justice is done."
"Yes, absolutely!" Fudge quickly chimed in, trying to seize the moment. "I guarantee it. Please, return to your homes."
He was expecting the crowd to disperse, but no one moved. His face tightened with unease.
Dumbledore sighed softly and continued, "I understand your desire for reassurance. You're worried for Mr. Grindelwald, and rightly so. But consider the Ministry employees—they have duties to perform, and if we delay them, others in need will go unassisted."
A voice rang out from the crowd. "We aren't causing trouble! We just want to see Mr. Grindelwald and make sure he's alright. After that, we'll leave."
"Yes! Just let us see him and we'll go!" another echoed.
Dumbledore glanced at Fudge. Reluctantly, Fudge nodded, though his anger simmered beneath the surface.
Fine, let them look. But this mess was all Scrimgeour's doing, and now Fudge had to deal with the fallout. How had it come to this? Scrimgeour was supposed to be handling things, yet now he was hiding in his office, leaving Fudge to take all the heat!
Suppressing his frustration, Fudge ordered most of the Ministry staff to return to their posts, while the crowd waited quietly in the hall.
As they reached the Auror's office, a group of Aurors scattered at the sight of them, as if mice fleeing from a cat.
Snape, ever the keen observer, was quick to act. With a flick of his wand, he froze several of the fleeing Aurors.
With another flick, the office door flew open.
Inside, Dyroth sat in a chair, surrounded by Aurors as though he were some dangerous criminal. He was restrained, unable to move. Tonks, too, was tightly held by two Aurors, struggling against their grip. And there, looming over Dyroth, was Scrimgeour, holding a vial of an unknown potion.
Even mild-mannered Professor Flitwick couldn't contain his fury at the sight.
"Minister Fudge," Flitwick's voice trembled with anger, "is this what you meant by questioning? Is this what you call ensuring his safety?"
"Well done," Snape sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "The British Ministry of Magic has outdone itself once again."
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