Ministry of Magic Arrives

Klein could clearly sense the shift in Snape's attitude toward him, but more than that, he was still curious about the contents of those few pages of parchment.

"Discuss ten uses of Sheep Liver Fruit? Ten?"

Carefully recalling everything he knew about Sheep Liver Fruit, Klein was astonished to discover that no book—not even the most authoritative Potions and Magic—recorded more than nine uses.

There absolutely was no tenth!

"So this is the assignment Snape gave me: reverse-engineer the pharmacology."

Muttering to himself, he pulled several thick pharmacology tomes from his trunk and began reading with intense focus.

There was still time before curfew, and the boys in the dormitory were chatting and roughhousing. Only Klein, who had just returned from "detention" in Snape's office, was reading, making him stand out. Goyle sidled up to Draco, who was in silk pajamas, and spoke with confusion.

"Draco, isn't tomorrow a holiday? Why is Boss Klein still studying?"

"How should I know?"

Draco wasn't in the mood to chat. He was still thinking about what the Bloody Baron had said that afternoon.

"I'm not a 'mediocre, pitiful wretch.' I'll prove it."

Muttering under his breath, Draco shooed Goyle away and, for the first time, drew the silver-gray bed curtains before curfew.

He decided to get a good night's sleep and start working hard tomorrow.

Even if he could never become a genius like Klein.

At least

he would become excellent!

The autumn breeze was gentle and warm. Saturday's Hogwarts was like a sleepy maiden, exuding a lazy air from the inside out.

Aside from the Quidditch teams training, there was hardly anyone on the lawn. It was under these circumstances that Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge entered the castle.

"Mister Cornelius, hello. Please follow me."

The person responsible for receiving the Ministry delegation was Professor Minerva McGonagall.

This perpetually stern witch showed no leniency even toward the Minister of Magic, maintaining a strictly businesslike demeanor.

"Mm."

With a noncommittal reply, Cornelius Fudge tugged at the brim of his top hat.

If he could help it, he really didn't want to come to Hogwarts to see that man.

The moving staircases were naturally no challenge for Professor McGonagall, who had taught at the school for over a decade. Soon, she led Cornelius Fudge and the accompanying Ministry officials to the Headmaster's Office on the eighth floor of the castle.

Knocking on the Gryphon-shaped brass door knocker, the group entered the room under the watchful gaze of the stone griffins flanking the wooden doors.

Inside, an old man and a young boy had been waiting for some time.

"Cornelius, long time no see. And welcome to all of you from the Ministry. Come, try some of the tea and snacks I've prepared."

Dumbledore stood with a smile, playing the host as he gestured for everyone to sit. With a wave of the "temporarily borrowed" Elder Wand, cups of Honey Tea and sugar biscuits appeared without warning on the large table in the room.

"Long time no see, Dumbledore."

With a polite nod in response, Cornelius Fudge's tone was flat.

Without even realizing it, his face had unconsciously stiffened.

Klein thought the Minister looked like a round-faced hyena trying to maintain its dignity in front of an old lion.

"It has been a long time. You haven't written to me in years."

Dumbledore chuckled, stroking his white beard, his blue eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles.

"Ahem... let's get down to business. This is Klein Grindelwald, I presume?"

Stung right where it hurt, Cornelius Fudge didn't want to dwell on the topic and quickly redirected everyone's attention to Klein.

Let the past be the past.

He was the dignified Minister of Magic, and he had his pride too!

"Hello, Mister Minister. I am Klein."

Ignoring the undercurrent between Cornelius Fudge and Dumbledore, Klein gave a slight bow, his demeanor neither humble nor arrogant.

"Mm."

Cornelius Fudge puffed out his belly, responding with a flat expression.

Then, he turned back to Dumbledore and spoke.

"After verification by professionals, the modified healing spell is indeed excellent enough to warrant a Third-Class Order of Merlin. However, there is one problem."

He paused, his tone suddenly turning serious.

"Many people in the Ministry suspect that this spell was not actually researched by Klein Grindelwald himself."

A child who had just enrolled and barely learned to wave a wand—how many problems could he possibly understand? Klein Grindelwald was clearly a puppet pushed forward by that old fox Dumbledore!

Did he think such a low-level trick could fool him, the great Minister?

Cornelius Fudge sneered, a fire kindling in his eyes.

Watching the Minister's sudden performance in silence, Klein felt somewhat speechless.

His obsession with power had plunged Cornelius Fudge deep into the quagmire of conspiracy theories—anything even remotely connected to Dumbledore could automatically transform into a threat to his Ministerial seat.

He had originally just wanted to casually build some reputation, but who knew he'd run into a mess like this? Klein furrowed his brow, thought for a second, then lowered his head like a well-behaved child.

"Was it someone from the Ministry, or you?"

Dumbledore, without changing his expression, tossed the question back to Cornelius Fudge.

"That... is not for public disclosure."

Cornelius Fudge's stance was firm; without waiting for the other to speak, he pressed on.

"Dumbledore, regardless, the child is innocent. If you're trying to use 'Grindelwald' as your umbrella for reckless behavior, you're sorely mistaken!"

Professor McGonagall, standing nearby, was somewhat bewildered.

What the hell?

"That's right, you did defeat Gellert Grindelwald, but that was a very, very long time ago.

Everyone grows old with time. Clinging to past achievements is not what a wise person should do."

Putting on an expression that said "I've seen through it all," Cornelius Fudge let out a sigh.

"Deliberately bringing the child of your enemy's family from Germany to Hogwarts, then letting him make a name for himself in the wizarding world—isn't that part of your plan?"

Cornelius Fudge stroked the brim of his hat, a cold sneer on his lips revealing undisguised mockery.

"You've been dormant in this castle for too long. You want the outside world to see your magnanimity, your capability once more. Am I wrong?"

Well-reasoned and irrefutable!

If he could, Klein would really like to give the Minister, whose imagination was maxed out, a thumbs-up.

He felt it was a real waste that Cornelius Fudge didn't write novels.

"Hehe."

Dumbledore said nothing, only smiled.

He quietly watched Cornelius Fudge, his gaze calm and gentle.

"Klein's talent is beyond doubt."

Just then, a gloomy voice suddenly reached everyone's ears.

Long hair, a black robe.

Severus Snape had appeared like a ghost, silently at the doorway.