Fudge's Attitude

The crowd stirred uneasily. Many had already expected this. Vitia Creona, the most notorious Dark Witch of recent years, had suddenly transformed out of Moody, causing quite a commotion. And when faced with arrest, she had smiled and said those words.

No one knew why she had offered that warning. Wasn't she allied with Voldemort? Hadn't she escaped from Azkaban? If so, why had she shown herself? Why hadn't she resisted?

Perhaps she simply wanted to create panic and chaos. From a dark wizard's perspective, that was perfectly reasonable—they feared nothing more than peace in the world. Even Hogwarts staff members, Professor McGonagall among them, could not help thinking so.

But Dumbledore, Madam Bones from the Ministry of Magic, Severus, and a few others knew that Creona had not lied.

And now Harry, who had disappeared for a while before suddenly reappearing, told them, "Voldemort has returned."

This was The Boy Who Lived. He was the one who had defeated Voldemort and saved the British wizarding world from misery and disaster.

Fudge gripped his bowler hat tightly, his cheeks flushed and chest heaving violently. He seemed on the verge of exploding, but he restrained the impulse.

Fudge looked around at the helpless faces—Aurors included, the elite of the Ministry of Magic. They all stared at him blankly, as though waiting for him to decide how to handle the situation.

Huff. Huff.

Sweat rolled down Fudge's forehead, and his face was beginning to turn from red to purple.

The Dark Lord had returned. That meant chaos, slaughter, death, war... He and the Ministry of Magic could not deal with it alone. They would have to rely on Harry Potter, who had once defeated the Dark Lord. Rely on Dumbledore. Rely on Breen. Draw close to them. Perhaps even bow their heads