---
Fudge, having seemingly lost all strength, collapsed onto the ground. He didn't even notice when his wand slipped from his grasp.
Dyroth stood quietly, observing the fallen Minister. Fudge was a man of gentle demeanor on the surface, but in truth, he was weak and lacked strong family backing. It wasn't easy for him to sever ties with Dumbledore, but he had one undeniable flaw—his insatiable thirst for power.
That flaw was something Dyroth intended to exploit.
As for the Auror Command, Fudge would need to assign someone there, but it wasn't a department one could control with just a few incompetent lackeys. He would have to find capable people, but that would open up opportunities for the Saints.
Before arriving in Britain, Dyroth had already arranged for Vinda to infiltrate the Ministry, planting people in key positions. When the inevitable power struggle between Fudge and Amelia Bones occurred, the Saints would be ready to seize control.
After a few minutes, Fudge seemed to recover somewhat. He stood up and glanced at Dyroth with renewed determination.
"Let's go, Mr. Grindelwald. If we delay any longer, the professors at Hogwarts might start causing trouble. It's best to resolve this quickly."
Dyroth smiled, placing a hand on his chest and giving a small bow. "As you wish, Minister."
---
In the Ministry of Magic hall, despite the time that had passed, the assembled wizards remained patient, waiting for Dyroth to reappear. Occasionally, murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"Why hasn't Mr. Grindelwald come out yet? Do you think something went wrong?"
"I doubt it. With all the Hogwarts professors here, and Dumbledore too, they'll make sure nothing bad happens to him."
"You're right. Hogwarts won't let Mr. Grindelwald be mistreated."
At that moment, a voice rang out, "Look! Mr. Grindelwald is coming out!"
All eyes turned toward the entrance as Dyroth appeared.
"Mr. Grindelwald!" several voices called out, filled with concern.
"Mr. Grindelwald, are you alright?" others asked as they hurried toward him.
Dyroth smiled warmly at the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your help today. Without you, I don't know how long I would have been stuck inside that room. Thank you, truly."
He stepped forward, giving a slight bow of gratitude to everyone present.
"Mr. Grindelwald, you don't have to thank us!" someone from the crowd replied. "You were taken into the Ministry to protect us. We couldn't just stand by and do nothing!"
"Exactly!" another voice added in agreement.
The crowd's support touched Dyroth, but he continued with a more serious tone.
"I believe many of you are curious about what happened in the Ministry today. Let me tell you, they interrogated me over and over, trying to force me to admit to crimes I didn't commit. They even used Veritaserum on me—on an eleven-year-old!"
Gasps of shock and outrage spread through the crowd.
"Veritaserum? On a child?" one witch exclaimed, her face turning red with indignation.
"They really did that to you, Mr. Grindelwald?" asked another, fists clenched in anger.
Dyroth's voice took on a somber tone, "Yes, they tried to force the answers they wanted. They accused me of breaking the contract between wizards and goblins, of casting spells in public. More than once, I started to doubt myself... wondering if I had really done something wrong."
His words resonated with the crowd. They couldn't believe the Ministry would stoop so low—especially to accuse someone like Dyroth, who had done nothing but protect them.
The witch with red-rimmed eyes whispered, "You did nothing wrong..."
Dyroth looked over the crowd and said, "But then I looked into your eyes, and I saw hope. And I understood."
He paused, scanning the faces around him. "Three hundred years ago, we were betrayed by our leaders—those we trusted. They ignored the sacrifices of our people and hid the wizarding world from the rest of the world."
"Two hundred years ago, we were betrayed again, by those who claimed to be our ministers. They ended the war between wizards and goblins, handing control of the Galleons to the goblins. Are these people guilty? Who will judge them?"
"If defending the rights of British wizards is a crime, then yes, I am guilty."
A roar of applause erupted, louder than anything Dyroth had heard before. The crowd was invigorated, their long-held frustrations coming to the surface.
"That's right!" someone shouted. "Why did we fight and bleed, only to be oppressed again?"
"Support Mr. Grindelwald!" yelled another.
The entire hall became a sea of fervor, voices rising in a unified chant: "Grindelwald! Grindelwald!"
Dyroth raised his hand, and the crowd fell silent, awaiting his next words.
"Before dawn can come, someone must light the way through the darkness. The flame of change will illuminate our world, showing us a path forward. Our destiny, the destiny of British wizards, is ours to shape. We will not allow anyone else to control it."
"Grindelwald! Grindelwald!" the crowd chanted again, louder and more passionately.
Dyroth smiled, reveling in the support of the crowd. But then, from the corner of his eye, he spotted several familiar figures standing quietly nearby.
Dumbledore, dressed in white robes, stood out from the crowd, watching him with a mixture of fear and apprehension. Tonks, on the other hand, looked excited, her fists clenched as she cheered for Dyroth.
Seeing them, Dyroth's smile faded slightly. He knew that life at Hogwarts was about to become much more difficult.
.
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