A Gentle Tyranny

Dumbledore's connections spanned the globe, and not just within the wizarding world.

Fudge, realizing this, slammed his fist on the table. "Evidence! Dumbledore, produce your evidence! Otherwise, this is slander! These are words that undermine the Ministry of Magic's authority! The public is praising my wise leadership right now, and that's what matters most! It brings stability! Peace!"

Dumbledore shook his head slightly, a flicker of sadness in his eyes. "Peace adorned with lies is more dangerous than war itself, Cornelius. It will leave people defenseless when true darkness descends."

Fudge's voice grew louder. "Speaking of defense, I happen to have a new initiative to implement. To ensure the absolute safety of Hogwarts students and allow them to focus on their studies without distraction, I have decided to sign a Ministerial Order."

He acted as if he had seized an opportunity for a counterattack. "Starting next week, Hogwarts will cancel all Quidditch training, club activities, and any non-academic gatherings. All students' extracurricular time must be spent in the common rooms or the library, under the direct supervision of their Head of House."

He looked at Dumbledore triumphantly, as if he had just played an unbeatable trump card.

The calm expression Dumbledore had maintained finally showed a crack, but it wasn't anger; it was a disappointment and chill so profound it felt tangible.

"Cornelius, you want to take away the children's last sliver of joy under this cloud? Take away their freedom to fly, to make friends, to discover themselves? All for your pathetic 'need for control'?"

His voice wasn't loud, but Fudge instinctively took half a step back.

"This is for their own good! For order!"

"No, Cornelius," Dumbledore's gentle aura turned as formidable as a snow-capped mountain. "This is tyranny. While it may seem mild, it is still tyranny."

He stopped looking at Fudge, his blue eyes sweeping over the golden decorations in the room, the ridiculous "trophy" display shelf, and finally landing on the incessantly waving tapestry.

"You can issue your Ministerial Order, Cornelius," Dumbledore's tone returned to calm.

"But if you dare to send it into Hogwarts, I, Albus Percival Wulfrick Brian Dumbledore, as Headmaster of Hogwarts, will regretfully end the school's decades-long friendly relationship with the Ministry of Magic."

Legally speaking, the Ministry of Magic, as the government of the British wizarding world, had jurisdiction over the field of education.

The Ministry could establish educational charters, and the exams for O.W.Ls and N.E.W.Ts, for example, were managed by the Ministry, which could also influence school curriculum and teaching standards to a certain extent.

However, Hogwarts was protected by an ancient Charter, a document that granted the school significant autonomy, especially in internal management, staff appointments, and student affairs.

Fudge's forcibly issued Ministerial Order would be a violation of the Charter, and Hogwarts would naturally have grounds to sever its long-standing friendly relationship with the Ministry.

The Ministry also had the power to order the closure of a school, but that was only in extreme circumstances, which was precisely what Umbridge had been desperately trying to achieve with the Minister's various assignments.

Dumbledore's words successfully brought Fudge back to his senses.

The Ministry was not Hogwarts' superior; their jurisdiction over the school was not absolute.

Fudge screamed in fury, "You... you can't! That's a threat! Dumbledore!"

"No, Mr. Minister, it is a promise."

Dumbledore's calm contrasted sharply with Fudge's ferocity.

Fudge, seemingly out of options, suddenly placed his hands on the desk. "In that case, I'll have to proceed by the book."

He wore an incredibly sinister smile. "As far as I know, a considerable portion of Hogwarts' operating funds comes from that most-wanted criminal."

A ripple went through Dumbledore's usually placid face.

Fudge was very pleased with his reaction. "As Headmaster, you not only condoned his continued position as Chairman of the Board of Governors but also shamelessly accepted his illegal funds, one after another!"

He slammed his fist on the desk. "You are colluding with dark forces! Dumbledore!"

Dumbledore's eyes turned unusually cold. "How far will you go to cling to the power you hold?"

Fudge seemed deeply stung. "I am upholding the dignity of the law! I must show the public that the Ministry is capable of controlling the situation and protecting them!"

But he had failed. Vincent had not surrendered meekly; instead, he had chosen to challenge the Ministry's authority.

The beginning was wrong, the middle was wrong, and to hold onto power, he could only continue to be wrong.

Dumbledore sighed silently. "Power is the most potent poison in the world. Cornelius— Mr. Minister, if you insist on proceeding, then I will have no choice but to use every means at my disposal to stop you."

Fudge clenched his fist. "Dumbledore, do you think I want this? If you would cooperate with the Ministry's work, I wouldn't have to—"

"There's no point in saying more," Dumbledore said, clapping his hands lightly at the air in front of him. "You're on your own."

Accompanied by Fawkes' melodious cry, red flames surged, engulfing Dumbledore's figure.

Fudge was left alone in the office.

He stood there, trembling, unsure whether it was from anger or fear. He looked around, at the office he had meticulously crafted to symbolize "glory." Now, the golden decorations seemed blindingly garish, and the figure of himself in the tapestry seemed to mock him silently.

"Damn it!" Fudge slammed his fist onto the desk with all his might. "Everything I've done is for the stability and prosperity of the wizarding world! You... you... why can't you understand me!"

Meanwhile, Hogwarts Castle.

The corridor on the eighth floor leading to the Headmaster's Office was silent. The Gargoyle at the entrance suddenly seemed to sense something and slid open silently, without asking for the password as usual.

Red flames appeared, and Dumbledore strode in, his steps heavier than usual. The gentle smile that usually graced his face was gone, replaced by a deep weariness. He ascended the spiral staircase and pushed open the office door. The portraits of past Headmasters quickly closed their eyes and pretended to sleep. Dumbledore walked over to Perch, gently placing Fawkes, who had been perched on his shoulder, onto it.

"Knock, knock—" came a knock from outside.

Dumbledore raised his right hand and turned to face McGonagall, who was at the door.

Her hands were clasped tightly in front of her, knuckles white from the force, clearly realizing something.

"Albus," McGonagall's voice held a trace of imperceptible anxiety, "how bad is it?"

Dumbledore's cerulean eyes behind his half-moon spectacles flashed with helplessness. "More... radical than we anticipated. Cornelius isn't just completely lost in his own fabricated victory narrative; he intends to extend this 'brilliance' to Hogwarts."

He paused, clearly stating his terrible decision. "He plans to sign a Ministerial Order canceling all Quidditch training, club activities, and any non-academic extracurricular gatherings.

He claims it's to ensure the absolute safety of Hogwarts students and allow them to study without distraction."