"Huh, you don't look worried at all?"
The times were changing. The Dark Lord Voldemort had suddenly acquired a legitimate position. He'd gone from being a thug hiding in the shadows, doing nothing but threatening people with murder, to becoming the Speaker of the Magical Congress of a vast country. Countless people had come to Hogwarts to seek out Dumbledore.
And all these people had also found ways to get in touch with Anton.
Unable to deal with the constant interruptions, Anton had simply slipped off to hide in the Ministry of Magic's Animagus Office.
Although he was the head of the department, its staff rarely saw him. The Dark Wizards who filled most of the Animagus Office's positions—the followers who had gone to the Arctic—were more likely to see him during classes at Azkaban Academy.
The office reserved for the Director was completely empty, so Anton went to Minister Fudge's office instead. The fat man often kept a whole pile of delicate little treats there.
Apparently, they were all gifts from other people.
It was rare to see this. Anton had expected Fudge to be in a frantic rush, but the man was sitting calmly in his office, handling paperwork.
Fudge was clearly delighted by Anton's arrival. He called for Wheatfield, the House-elf, to prepare the best Black Tea, then pulled a beautifully wrapped box of Chocolate biscuits from the shelf beside the office fireplace to serve with it.
"I have absolutely no need to worry." Fudge happily patted the arm of the Armchair he was sitting in. "I've never felt so secure in my position!"
Anton blinked and looked at Fudge curiously. "Could you explain?"
Fudge chuckled, waved Wheatfield off to the side, then picked up the teapot and poured Anton a cup of Black Tea. "Voldemort—oh, apparently