Umbridge's Path to Power

"Ah, Lucius's here!" Fudge exclaimed suddenly with delight after introducing everyone.

William turned his head and saw Lucius Malfoy and his simple-minded son Draco.

Lucius was carrying a wand, but the diamond ring was gone. It seemed that after being fleeced by the Ministry of Magic recently, he didn't dare to flaunt his wealth so ostentatiously anymore.

"Ah, Cornelius," Malfoy said, extending his hand as he walked past the Minister for Magic, "Hello. I suppose you haven't met my son, Draco."

"Hello," Fudge glanced at Draco and said, "Come, let me introduce you to the recipients of the Order of Merlin."

Malfoy smiled and nodded, clearly not wanting to miss this opportunity to expand his network; otherwise, there would be no need for him to attend the banquet.

As he listened to Fudge's introduction, he suddenly saw Mr. Weasley. He was startled, his smile vanished, and he abandoned the minister to gaze deeply into Weasley's eyes.

The two stared at each other for a full twenty seconds, neither willing to be the first to look away.

Malfoy glanced at his wand out of the corner of his eye, making sure his diamond ring wasn't there. With that, he had no more worries and could fully unleash the fighting skills he had recently trained for.

Mr. Weasley showed no weakness; he loosened his collar, seemingly ready to shed his new robes and get down to business at any moment.

But no one took the initiative to make a move; the Minister for Magic was still there, and whoever struck first would be in the wrong.

Their eyes all conveyed the same message: Come here, come here!

"No, don't do this." Fudge stepped between the two, speaking in a low but stern voice, "It'll make us a laughingstock among the other Minister for Magic!"

The two men snorted coldly and took half a step back.

"Arthur, don't argue with Lucius anymore. He donated a building to the Ministry of Magic before Christmas; he was a VIP guest I invited."

Fudge patted Mr. Weasley on the shoulder, clearly not wanting to embarrass Malfoy, the golden pig father, too much.

?

"Of course," Mr. Weasley said with a smile. "I'm very grateful for Mr. Malfoy's donation; he certainly doesn't want to spend a few days in Azkaban."

Malfoy's expression turned sour. Being fleeced by the Ministry of Magic was clearly not something to be happy about, even though he was very rich!

"Good heavens, Arthur," he said sarcastically, in an exaggerated tone, "Donating a building to the Ministry of Magic is my choice, but I'm curious, what exactly did you sell to get an invitation to the Order of Merlin award ceremony?"

Did you sell the house?

But that dilapidated house isn't worth that much money, right?

"Mr. Weasley doesn't need to sell his house, much less donate it; he's a guest I invited."

William, who had remained silent until now, answered with a faint smile.

"Recipients of the Order of Merlin can invite fourteen people. Mr. Malfoy has never received the medal, so he probably doesn't know."

Mr. Malfoy's gaze swept over William, his eyes cold, clearly recognizing the boy who had recently gained notoriety.

William met his gaze without flinching.

Draco's hands trembled involuntarily; seeing the boy brought back unpleasant memories.

He licked his dry lips, took a few steps back, and thought, "What a nightmare... I've never eaten ice cream since then."

Lucius glanced at William, then at his parents and Hermione's parents, who were undoubtedly Muggle.

William's wand slid through his fingers. If Lucius dared to utter any insulting words, he would teach him a lesson in public without holding back.

Under the watchful eye of the Minister for Magic, Malfoy didn't say anything out of line. He gave Weasley a mocking snort, then turned and pulled Draco toward their seats.

"Relax, kid," Fudge laughed. "I think Lucius will know from now on that he can invite fourteen medal recipients."

"I wonder who you will invite when you receive the Order of Merlin, Minister?" a short, stout woman to Fudge's left suddenly asked.

The woman had a broad, sagging face, and her short, curly hair was adorned with a small black velvet bow. Her voice was high-pitched, sounding like a young girl's.

"What?" Fudge seemed not to have heard clearly. He looked at the woman. "What did you just say?"

"I'm telling you, Minister, you'll definitely get a Order of Merlin too, it'll be within the next few years," the woman said in a sickeningly sweet voice.

Fudge was taken aback; it seemed he was seeing this woman for the first time.

"Excuse me, you are..."

"Dolores Umbridge, Minister." Umbridge's face was plastered with a fawning smile.

"Oh, I remember now, last year you asked me to promote some books, I recall! I transferred you to the Auror Office..."

Umbridge's smile was somewhat stiff. Clearly, her strength did not meet the selection criteria for Auror. She had only wanted to gain some experience, but this privileged appointment had put her in a rather unfavorable position.

After all, Rufus Scrimgeour, the Head of the Auror Office, was not an easy boss to talk to.

"You just said I'd get the Order of Merlin?" Fudge asked with interest. "Why did you say that?"

Umbridge, displaying a shy, girlish demeanor, complimented, "Under your leadership, Minister, the Ministry of Magic Potions thriving. You captured that damned Death Eaters Tywin, and even invented the Wolfsbane Potion... You deserve a medal for your contributions."

I think the Order of Merlin, First Class, would be very suitable.

Umbridge's eyes flashed with just the right amount of admiration.

Fudge, clearly still possessing some integrity, quickly waved his hand and said, "No, I can't... Albus only received a First Class medal after defeating Grindelwald in 1945... I'm far from that level."

William gave Umbridge a meaningful look. It seemed this guy was about to get promoted; not only could he help the minister make money, but he also spoke so nicely.

Sure enough, Fudge thought for a moment and said, "Umbridge? I'll remember you. I'll check your evaluation form when we get back. If you're not suitable for the Auror, I'll transfer you."

"Thank you, Minister." Umbridge's voice softened even more.

Just then, members of the Wizengamot arrived.

They sat down in the chairs; there were about fifty people in total, all dressed in crimson robes with an exquisite silver "W" embroidered on their left breast.

Dumbledore strode over, wearing a long black and blue robe, with an extremely happy expression on his face.

He walked to the front, raised his head, and looked at the crowd through the Half-moon Spectacles perched on his hooked nose. His long, silvery-white beard and hair Winky in the torchlight.

Dumbledore's attire was so magnificent, and he wore enormous gems on his hands, enough to encircle his four fingers in a grand chain, radiating a dazzling light that would make Thanos ashamed enough to remove his gauntlet.

The members of Wizengamot were whispering among themselves.

All eyes were on Dumbledore, and two elderly witches sitting in the back row stood up and waved, seemingly his loyal fans.

The noise in the hall subsided, and the medals were finally about to be awarded.

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