Kapitel 47: Cornelius Fudge

...

Cornelius Fudge, the British Minister for Magic, had ascended to power in 1990, burning with an ambition for control. Unfortunately for him, there was always a figurative "emperor" above—Dumbledore—who loomed over his political aspirations. Constantly thwarted by internal factional divides within the Ministry, Fudge's authority was often stifled.

"It's an honor to meet you, Minister Fudge!" Dyroth stepped forward with a courteous handshake, welcoming the Minister into the ceremony.

Fudge, for his part, held a favorable view of the young Grindelwald. The power and influence the Saints wielded were leagues beyond the capabilities of a few pure-blood families. If he could secure their support, Fudge envisioned reshaping the Ministry, breaking free from the puppet strings that had kept him bound.

"Regarding the Aurors, I've already reprimanded the ones who did that. Rest assured, the British Ministry of Magic treats all wizards equally," Fudge offered, clearly attempting to smooth things over after previous tensions.

It was then that his gaze landed on the blond man beside Dyroth. His eyes widened in recognition.

"Mr. Malfoy, you're here too! It's been quite some time!"

"Long time no see, Minister Fudge!" Lucius responded, his demeanor polished but unshaken. As the patriarch of the Malfoy family, backed by a coalition of pure-blood families, Lucius held no fear of Fudge. His earlier surprise had stemmed more from Fudge's unexpected presence at the opening ceremony than from any personal intimidation.

"This is Amelia Bones, Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement." Fudge turned to introduce a gray-haired woman with a monocle who gave Dyroth a curt nod.

"And this is Dolores Umbridge, Leader of the Improper Use of Magic Office."

A stout woman in a pink ensemble smiled sweetly and bowed toward Dyroth. Her voice was sickly saccharine as she chirped, "Hello, Mr. Grindelwald! Thank you so much for your support of the British Ministry of Magic!"

"Stupid", Dyroth's expression tightened, even he was displeased by the interruption not to mention Fudge. He hadn't expected much from Umbridge, but her sheer lack of intelligence surprised him. Had she truly failed to grasp that it was not her place to speak out of turn in front of her superior?

As expected, Fudge's face darkened immediately. "Umbridge, it's not your place to interrupt here!"

Panicked, Umbridge stammered, "Minister, I—"

"If you say one more word, you'll return to the Ministry!" Fudge snapped, silencing her.

Turning back to Dyroth, Fudge's tone lightened as he attempted to save face. "Mr. Grindelwald, your assistance has been invaluable to the Ministry. On behalf of all of us, I thank you."

"Since I've chosen to make the UK my base, it's only natural that I contribute to the magical community here," Dyroth replied, though his words carried a certain disingenuousness.

He smoothly shifted the conversation, gesturing to Lucius. "You already know Mr. Malfoy. And this is Ms. Vinda Rosier. I assume you've heard of her?"

"V-Vinda Rosier!" Fudge's eyes widened with sudden recognition. Previously, he had though of her as only an important figure, but he hadn't realized she was 'the Black Rose of France—Grindelwald's right-hand and one of the most powerful witches in Europe.'

"My deepest apologies, Ms. Rosier, for not recognizing you earlier." Fudge bowed his head slightly, now fully aware of the political weight Vinda carried.

Vinda merely nodded, her cold gaze revealing no hint of emotion.

Sensing the growing tension, Lucius stepped in to diffuse the situation. "The ceremony is about to begin, Minister. Shall we?"

Fudge smiled in agreement, about to follow Dyroth to the ceremony, but then he hesitated. His movements became awkward as he realized the dilemma: As Minister of Magic, he should be walking at the forefront. But Vinda Rosier's presence complicated matters. In the hierarchy of magical society, she outranked even him.

Seeing Fudge's indecision, Dyroth threw him a lifeline, subtly glancing at Vinda, who silently stepped aside.

"Minister Fudge, you've done such a great service to the British magical community. If you don't take the lead, I doubt anyone will dare to move," Dyroth said smoothly.

Lucius chimed in. "Indeed, Minister, we are all grateful for your leadership. Please, lead the way."

Reassured by their flattery, Fudge's smile broadened. "If there's anything you need in the future, don't hesitate to come to me."

"We will be sure to rely on your wisdom, Minister. Under your leadership, the British wizarding world will surely flourish," Dyroth replied with a sly smile.

With that, Fudge strode confidently toward the ceremony stage, practically beaming from the support he had gathered.

But just as Dyroth was about to follow, something caught his attention—a flicker of magic, powerful and familiar. His eyes narrowed as a snow-white figure moved past him very quickly.

"Minister Fudge, I'm afraid I must excuse myself for a moment. Something requires my attention," Dyroth said, his tone polite but urgent.

"Of course, Mr. Grindelwald. Don't worry about us. Mr. Malfoy will keep me company," Fudge waved him off, clearly too preoccupied with his own rising status.

...

Dyroth quickly pursued the fleeting figure, following it to a secluded room. Inside, Vinda Rosier stood, wand raised and pointed at none other than Albus Dumbledore.

"Leave us," Dyroth said calmly.

Vinda, without a word, lowered her wand and exited the room, but not before casting a warning glance in Dumbledore's direction.

Once they were alone, Dumbledore took a seat, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Mr. Grindelwald, if I recall correctly, you should be at Hogwarts right now."

Dyroth chuckled. "So, are you here to take me back, Professor?"

"If I had a bit more honey in my tea, I might have been persuaded to forget all about it," Dumbledore said with a smile, though his tone carried an undercurrent of seriousness.

The light banter quickly dissipated as Dyroth pulled out a parchment, placing it on the table before Dumbledore. "These are the shops I plan to open. You'll need to handle the pure-blood families behind them."

Dumbledore scanned the list, his brows raising as he realized the extent of Dyroth's plans.

"So many?" Dumbledore finally looked up and was stunned then his eyes gleaming with curiosity as he asked Dyroth "Can you open this many shops?"