Fudge's Predicament

At the same time, the Ministry of Magic was in complete chaos.

The square in front of the golden fountain was almost bursting at the seams.

The dilapidated dome was not yet fully repaired, the magic lamps flickered, and the air was filled with the pungent smell of potions, scorched earth, and blood. In the center of the chaos, Cornelius Fudge was forced to stand at the foot of the fountain steps, with the wrecked Ministry of Magic hall behind him and a vast, menacing sea of reporters before him.

The sound of camera shutters rang out like a sudden downpour, quill pens frantically recorded in the air, and the magical megaphone amplified every question so that it could be heard throughout the entire hall.

"Minister! Please explain why the Ministry of Magic's defenses were completely breached overnight?"

"The Auror casualties are heavy. Does this mean your security policy has completely failed?"

"Dumbledore is still in a coma in the hospital. Have you lost the support of this symbolic figure?"

"Minister!"

Please answer the question directly!

Has the Ministry of Magic lost control of the situation?

Fudge's breathing became more and more rapid. His hat was askew, his bow tie was loose, and sweat was streaming down his forehead and temples. He kept wiping it with his sleeve, but he couldn't get it clean.

Just as he was trying to use "under investigation" and "not convenient to disclose at this time" again...

Her movements were small, yet they caused the surrounding reporters to instinctively make way for her.

"Minister," her voice echoed clearly beneath the hall's dome through amplification magic, her tone steady yet carrying an unsettling calm, "Let's ask another question."

She tilted her head slightly, her green eyes scrutinizing her prey.

"Excuse me—was the person who appeared on the battlefield tonight the Mysterious Man?"

In that instant, it was as if even the air had been sucked out.

The shutter clicked abruptly.

The whispers vanished without a trace.

"You—what nonsense are you spouting!" Fudge almost screamed, his voice trembling. "Don't mention that name in this setting! This is irresponsible panic-mongering!"

"Panic?" Rita repeated softly.

She raised the quill pen, its tip flashing with a cold light.

"Then please explain, Minister—why did multiple Auror witness the Dark Mark rising again?"

Why would Death Eaters from Azkaban appear in organized groups on the same battlefield?

"And why is it that even Dumbledore was seriously wounded after the war and rushed to St. Mungo's's, where he is still receiving treatment?"

Fudge's face quickly turned ashen from the barrage of questions.

His lips trembled, but he couldn't utter a single word.

The reporters smelled blood.

"Minister, does this mean you're tacitly agreeing?"

"So the Mysterious Man really came back?"

Did the Ministry of Magic conceal this fact?

"No!" Fudge roared, waving his hand wildly. "You don't know what you're talking about! It's impossible! He's dead! He can't be coming back!"

The roar was particularly jarring in the hall.

Several Auror glanced over instinctively, their expressions complex and weary.

Rita did not press her advantage.

She simply watched Fudge quietly as he gradually lost control.

Then she spoke softly, her tone almost pitying—yet more cruel than any aggressive interrogation.

"Mr. Minister,"

"If he didn't come back, then why did tonight's battle have to come at such a cost?"

She pointed behind her.

A stretcher, bloodstains, crumbling walls, and Auror so exhausted he could barely stand.

Did these people fall while fighting a "non-existent threat"?

Fudge's body visibly swayed.

He uttered a short, meaningless syllable, as if trying to refute, but unable to find any plausible words.

"I..."

"I need more information..."

The Ministry of Magic will investigate thoroughly...

His voice grew softer and weaker.

"Then let me ask you a different question," Rita said softly.

A barely perceptible smile curved the corners of her lips.

"If—I mean if— the Mysterious Man has truly returned."

"Minister, are you willing to admit that the Ministry of Magic's denials, delays, and suppression over the past year have cost the Wizarding World an irreparable price?"

Fudge's eyes were wide open.

It was no longer anger, but raw fear.

He seemed to finally realize that this was not a press conference.

It was not a trial, but a public trial.

"I... I did this to avoid panic..." he murmured, his voice almost drowned out, "I'm the Minister for Magic... I have to consider stability..."

"Minister," Kit stood at the front, his emerald green dress standing out starkly against the gray background, a professional smile playing on his lips, "Wizarding World wants to know is not so-called 'panic and stability,' but the Ministry of Magic's responsibility to maintain the safety of the magical community."

Her quill hovered in mid-air, its tip almost poking Fudge's nose.

"Over the past year, you have repeatedly denied the existence of the threat, suppressed dissenting voices, and even used your power to crack down on those who warned against it."

"Now, please answer directly—could tonight's disaster have been avoided?"

This question was like Mars falling into an oil drum.

The reporters erupted in excitement.

"So the Ministry of Magic knew about the danger all along, but chose to keep it a secret?"

"Is the minister sacrificing public safety for political stability?"

"Will you take responsibility for this? Have you considered resigning?"

Fudge staggered back half a step, his face flushed red. "I—I need time to sort things out! The most important thing right now is to stabilize the situation—"

"Stable?" Rita repeated softly, her tone suddenly turning cold.

"But as far as we know, it is not the Ministry of Magic that has truly stabilized the situation."

She paused deliberately, firmly capturing everyone's attention.

"It was a young wizard who didn't belong to any official system, and the temporary fighting force he led."

"With the Ministry of Magic in disarray and command failing, they held the line on the most dangerous front lines."

She did not call out any names.

But everyone knows who she's talking about.

A low murmur arose from the crowd, spreading rapidly like ripples.

"Savior..."

"Not from the Ministry of Magic..."

"I heard he's still a student..."

Fudge looked up sharply, his voice tense. "This is unverified information! The Ministry of Magic is the one—"

"Then why can't the Ministry of Magic even produce a clear declaration of victory?" Rita interrupted him mercilessly, her speech still elegant, yet every word cutting to the bone. "And that young wizard is already seen by countless attackers as 'the one who held the line.'"

She smiled slightly, as if unintentionally, yet also as if carefully calculated.

"Minister, the Wizarding World is not foolish."

When authority fails to protect them, they will naturally remember—who stood at the forefront.

Tonight, it's not just the battlefield that's out of control.

Rather, it's the direction of public opinion throughout the entire Wizarding World.

The exciting chapter <Chapter Ninety-Four: Fudge's Embarrassment> is now available online! Click to read it now!