Dumbledore watched Fudge quietly.
After a long moment, he gently shook his head.
"In that case, we have nothing more to discuss."
He had given Fudge a chance.
But power had utterly blinded the man.
Before his words had faded, Dumbledore slowly drew his hand out of his robe's sleeve.
He held a wand with spherical joints spaced evenly along its length.
The air instantly froze.
Everyone from the Ministry of Magic paled.
The Aurors behind Fudge drew their wands in unison.
But none dared strike first.
The students around them let out low gasps and hurried back, clearing a large space.
"Dolores!"
Fudge went pale with shock, whipping around to glare at Umbridge as he roared:
"Didn't you say you'd confiscated his wand?! Then what's that in his hand?!"
Umbridge trembled, looking aggrieved.
"I... I watched the Aurors take his wand with my own eyes! I don't know where he conjured another one from!"
"That isn't her fault."
Holding his wand, Dumbledore lightly ran his fingers along its shaft. "As an elderly wizard, it's perfectly reasonable for me to have a spare wand, wouldn't you say?"
He looked at Fudge, his tone calm.
"I took it from Gellert Grindelwald all those years ago. It's been sitting around ever since, but it happens to have come in handy today."
Grindelwald!
At that name, Fudge sucked in a sharp breath.
He was the Dark Lord of the previous generation, who had plunged all of Europe into war, and now his wand lay in Dumbledore's hand.
It was as though it silently reminded them exactly who they were facing.
The corner of Fudge's eye twitched wildly. Forcing down his fear, he shouted with a bluster that barely concealed his cowardice.
"**Albus! Are you really going to declare war on the Ministry of