As a qualified politician, Cornelius Fudge would never feel at ease unless he had absolute certainty.
In his view, awarding the Order of Merlin to a group of young wizards would leave him with a bargaining chip for enchanting Muggle weapons, even if it was exploited by some "bad people" in the future.
Evidence?
The Ministry of Magic controlled the mouthpiece of public opinion. It could say whatever it wanted.
Fudge sincerely hoped the six youngsters would know what was good for them and not waste his investment in the future.
"Children, the Wizengamot's review is a little slow. I'll settle it before the end of the school year as soon as possible."
The moment Vincent saw that big-bad-wolf face, he knew he had been calculated against again.
He looked at Dumbledore, whose eyes were lowered, and smiled as he thanked Fudge together with his companions.
The Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot was right here. No amount of fabricated evidence would be of any use.
Bring down this big shot?
If that really happened, Vincent would have no choice but to admit defeat.
"Minerva, see them—"
"No need, Albus Dumbledore." Fudge was in high spirits. "We all know the way."
After the three Ministry officials left, Dumbledore turned to the six youngsters.
"Children, it's almost dawn already."
His gaze swept over the twins, who had been exchanging looks moments ago. "I hope the castle will be a little quieter tonight."
"Professor, we haven't even finished dinner yet~"
"Just for tonight."
The twins happily ran out of the Headmaster's Office.
Only after politely saying goodbye did Cedric and Rolf follow them out.
Hermione sensibly went with them.
Vincent was sensible too.
Under the watchful eyes of both the headmaster and deputy headmistress, he solemnly gave an account that was basically identical