"Yes." Fudge nodded with an awkward smile.
He came here today only to find out about the Basilisk so he could go back and deal with the parents who were putting pressure on him.
But surely he couldn't come to Hogwarts and not see Dumbledore?
Therefore, the investigation was naturally left to old Billy and Walton, his two henchmen.
Fudge had originally planned to leisurely have tea with Dumbledore while they finished their business, and then he could go back home in peace and quiet.
Who knew things would develop to this point?
Those two idiots, old Billy and Walton, not only captured the man, but also terrified him.
Especially Walton, that brainless idiot, who didn't even know to put his axe away in front of the dean.
That's incredibly stupid.
Dumbledore stroked his beard and chuckled. "Perfect, now that everyone's here, let's settle this matter. What do you think, Minister Fudge?"
"That's for the best." Fudge nodded weakly.
All he wanted to do now was get this matter resolved quickly, return to his office, sit in his soft, comfortable chair, and drink a cup of hot Black Tea brought by his secretary.
"Prewett just said the Basilisk is dead," Dumbledore nodded. "He's absolutely right."
"How do you prove it?" Walton asked.
This time, Fudge didn't blame him; instead, he turned to look at Dumbledore.
He was also very curious about this.
The Basilisk was Slytherin, one of the Four Founders of Hogwarts, and has lived for over a thousand years. Even if it's dead, shouldn't there be some proof?
Dumbledore remained calm and smiling, nodding slightly.
"Of course, we can prove it. Severus, show it to me."
After saying that, Dumbledore turned to Snape, winked at him, as if to say something perfectly obvious.
Snape stared blankly at Dumbledore, wondering when the Basilisk had died. "How come I didn't know?"
Do I still need to prove it?
You never discussed this with me.
Snape winked at Dumbledore winked back at him as if in return.
The two remained silent, staring at each other in silence.
This made Silan quite nervous.
He just said the Basilisk was dead, which was complete nonsense, but unexpectedly Dumbledore actually went along with it on the spot.
And it seems they didn't even discuss it with Snape...
Although Dumbledore hadn't warned him beforehand, Snape immediately realized what he was about to do.
So he didn't ask Dumbledore what he wanted, but vaguely replied, "Do you really want me to bring it out?"
"I know these things are important to you, and they are indeed good materials," Dumbledore said vaguely, "But it shouldn't be a problem to just take a look, right?"
"Oh well."
Snape waved his wand and produced a pumpkin-sized box from somewhere.
"This is the Basilisk?" Fudge, somewhat puzzled.
Dumbledore nodded firmly. "Yes, it's dead."
"Open it and take a look, Severus."
Upon opening it, Silan saw that the box was filled with ashes, interspersed with a few tiny scales with strange patterns.
Each of those scales was about the size of a human fingernail, entirely black, and upon closer inspection, one could see strange patterns on them.
Although she didn't know what these things were, Silan was certain they had nothing to do with the Basilisk.
As a professor of Potions, it's reasonable for him to carry some materials with him.
Dumbledore probably knew this, which is why he was so fearless.
Fudge asked with a strange expression, "This doesn't quite look like Basilisk..."
"Hmph!" Snape sneered, a smirk playing on his lips. "As the Potions Professor at Hogwarts, I can tell you with absolute certainty that this is the Basilisk."
Yes, that's right.
Dumbledore nodded affirmatively, clicking his tongue as he explained, "After the Basilisk was killed, we cremated it just in case. So all that's left are these scales and ashes. Not bad material after all..."
Fudge's expression remained somewhat strange, clearly indicating that he didn't quite believe what the two of them were saying.
Old Billy, standing nearby, peeked into the box and then grimaced.
A Basilisk has lived for over a thousand years, its body is unimaginably enormous; even if it were cremated, there's no way it would be reduced to such a small amount...
Dumbledore took out a scale, examined it closely, and said earnestly, "Look, because of the cremation, the Basilisk's scales have turned black."
"Without a doubt, this is the Basilisk."
After saying this, Dumbledore handed the scale in his hand to Professor McGonagall beside him. "What do you think, Minerva?"
Professor McGonagall took the scales and examined them carefully. She said seriously, "I'm not very good at these things, but I trust your and Professor Snape's judgment. This should be the Basilisk."
One is the greatest wizard of our time, and the other is a renowned Potions Master; their combined conclusions are indeed authoritative.
After Professor McGonagall finished speaking, she handed the scales in her hand to the other two professors.
Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick also took the scales in their hands and examined them carefully.
Their opinions were remarkably consistent.
These are the scales of the Basilisk.
"There is no doubt that the Basilisk is dead," Professor Sprout said.
Professor Flitwick nodded earnestly. "That's what I think too."
The scale spun around and returned to Snape's hand.
He put the scales back in the box and said matter-of-factly, "Now the matter is resolved."
Dumbledore nodded. "That's true. The Basilisk is dead. Minister Fudge, do you have any other questions?"
Fudge's gaze swept over the box, his expression still somewhat hesitant.
He still felt something was off, like something was wrong, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
But in the end, he convinced himself.
Since Dumbledore and the professors have all said so, there must be no problem.
Dumbledore and several professors could be considered among the most knowledgeable and accomplished wizards in the England Wizarding World.
It could be said that their pronouncements were authoritative.
It's like in the Muggle World: if all the members of the National Academy of Sciences' Mathematics Department unanimously agreed that 1+1=2, and you found it strange, you would only suspect that the problem lies with yourself.
Surely it's not like the academicians conspired to deceive you, right?
So if Dumbledore said so, then he must be right.
Besides, as long as there's some explanation, that's enough.
Since the Basilisk is already dead, it's more important to go back and have afternoon tea.
Fudge quickly convinced himself.
"I'm glad things are resolved."
Fudge removed his top hat, reached out and shook hands with Dumbledore. "Oh, by the way, how's Lockhart? We need to take him with us; if nothing unexpected happens, he'll be spending the rest of his life in Azkaban."
"He should be at the Hospital Wing." Dumbledore looked at Professor McGonagall. "Minerva, would you please go with them?"
Professor McGonagall nodded silently.
"Goodbye, Mr. Prewett." Fudge shook hands with Silan, trying to maintain his image in front of Dumbledore.
I'm very sorry for what happened today, and I hope you can forgive them.
"McNeil," Fudge called out, "Apologize to Mr. Prewett."
Walton reluctantly moved to stand in front of Silan, bowed slightly, and muttered softly, "Sorry."
Silan waved his hand dismissively, said goodbye casually, and gave Walton a silent, defiant smile.
Walton was seething with anger, but dared not lash out; his face flushed red.
"Alright, let's go."
Fudge flicked his cloak and hurriedly led the two men out.
He just wanted to put all this behind him and get back to the Ministry of Magic as soon as possible.