A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

Felix went through all this trouble for three reasons: to complete the time loop, resolve Hermione's temporal backlash, and bring back Harry and the others. Anything beyond that wasn't on his radar.

The rapport between him and Dumbledore stemmed from their shared interest: defeating Voldemort. But this time, Felix's "interest" shifted, dwindling in importance. Voldemort, in his eyes, seemed inconsequential, but he couldn't predict Dumbledore's decisions.

A natural concern arose: are his three goals more critical or finding an opportunity to destroy Voldemort's physical form and preempt a war?

Uncontrollable factors had to be excluded from the plan. This was Felix's genuine strategy: subtraction.

"So, next step: confront Fudge," Felix murmured to himself, guessing that Fudge would fabricate misleading evidence to divert public attention, putting the focus on himself. Unfortunately, the suspicion against him was substantial.

Fudge might very well link "trespassing the Ministry" to tonight's events.

When Fudge, under the guise of 'cooperating with the investigation,' would take him away, Felix would comply. If Fudge considered using Azkaban's Dementors to eliminate this threat, Felix would applaud.

Once decisive evidence surfaced, Fudge would have nowhere to run.

Felix could possibly turn the tables now with evidence, but he found it unreliable. The public's perception of Fudge oscillated between "weak" and "mediocre." However, that was still far from "imprisoning the hero who fought against the Dark Lord." The latter would incite anger.

And anger leads to Fudge's downfall, whether he liked it or not.

Felix waved away the soundproofing magic in the tent, letting the outside clamor rush in. He caught Fudge's furious shouting—

"Are you all going to defy the Ministry?"

Felix's expression froze, retracting his hand from the curtain.

Minutes ago—

Fudge, with a bloated belly, paced the clearing. Less than a hundred feet away, two makeshift tents stood, one serving as a temporary hospital; the other, where his target was, was guarded.

He glared at Harry, Ron, and Hermione stationed at the entrance, his mood exceedingly irritable.

A strong urge surged to command Aurors to forcefully extract the trio, but he hesitated, Dumbledore not far away... Moreover, even if he succeeded, parading the wrong people, if revealed in the investigation, how would he explain it to the public?

The public's outcry would drown him.

"Deal with them!" Fudge turned his head, gazing at Dumbledore. "They're openly defying the Ministry, defying me—I've said it, I only asked Felix Harp to cooperate with the inquiry, not to convict him, just a precaution."

"Cornelius," Dumbledore said in a deep tone, "I haven't refused your request. However, as Miss Granger suggested, you need to wait for a while. Felix just went through a severe battle; he needs time to tend to his injuries."

"I've been waiting outside for an hour, an hour! Made concessions... How long do you expect me to wait?" Fudge yelled. "Am I supposed to keep mistreating him? Definitely getting St. Mungo's healers—"

"Professor is the most excellent healer," Hermione said, shivering in the night, her voice high-pitched. "Moreover, are you certain St. Mungo's healers can handle the wounds left by Voldemort?" She struggled to say the name, eliciting gasps around her.

Fudge glared at Hermione, growling, "Don't mention that name! We're not sure about the mysterious—"

"Minister, sir," Harry pointed to himself, "I can assure you, Voldemort has indeed returned."

"You might be under the Imperius Curse, like when Barty Crouch Jr. claimed his innocence," Fudge impatiently said. "You don't know anything."

"You can have someone check," Harry earnestly said, "I've been hit by several Cruciatus Curses. There should be traces?"

"Standard lie," Fudge waved his hand, "students can't endure the pain of Cruciatus, let alone multiple!"

"You fool!" Professor McGonagall shouted, "I sense trouble brewing even from the news! Think of Crouch, think of the Triwizard Cup's manipulation, think of everything Harry has said!"

Fudge's face turned purple, "That's all—accidents! Milova, my intel tells me, that boy," he pointed at Harry, "often has nightmares, Merlin, he even talks to snakes! And now he claims to have withstood the Cruciatus—"

"Um, Minister," Ron raised his hand, "didn't mean to interrupt, but I've been hit with a Cruciatus too, it's excruciating, wishing to die right away," he grinned, "but I seem pretty lucid now..."

A loud sob echoed from the crowd.

"Oh, poor Ronnie! Poor Harry! What have you both endured?" Mrs. Weasley choked up, Bill and Mr. Weasley hugged her on either side.

Fudge still stubbornly stared at them, then turned to Hermione, "You won't claim to have endured a Cruciatus, will you?"

"I haven't," Hermione calmly said, "Yaxley, the guard from the Ministry, tasked to protect us, hurt me. That's why I denied you entry, what if there are Voldemort's spies among you?"

"Absurd! Absurd!" Fudge exclaimed loudly, panting, "I'll say it again, the truth isn't out yet, you can't speak guesses as facts." He looked at Dumbledore imploringly, "Albus, think about me, I have to do something..."

"Fudge, oh Fudge," Dumbledore said sternly, "your biggest problem is doing too little before and wanting to do too much now, heading farther down the wrong path. What you need most now is calmness. Withdraw the Aurors, I assure you, by tomorrow morning, you'll have the complete truth."

Fudge turned pale, looking anxious at Dumbledore. "Tomorrow...? Whose truth? The truth you want?" As soon as he said it, he regretted it.

His words ignited a storm. Professor McGonagall scolded loudly, Hagrid and Moody's rough voices echoed in the night, students wide-eyed, catching snippets—was Fudge disparaging their headmaster?

Fudge's body shivered involuntarily. "Dumbledore, you've seen it too, the testimony of three students and a reputable gentleman. Whom should I believe? Besides, Yaxley is dead..." A cloud of doubt loomed over him.

Yes, Yaxley was dead. Who could be behind his influence? Couldn't possibly be...

At that moment, distant footsteps approached, clearing a path through the crowd. It was reinforcements from the Ministry, more Aurors.

"Minister, all the Aurors and enforcers from the Ministry are here, but..." Dolores Umbridge cautiously glanced around.

"Excellent," Fudge said, "excellent!" He repeated it loudly, as if gathering immense courage.

He glared at the air, avoiding Dumbledore's eyes, and commanded the Aurors, "Arrest Felix Harp. Anyone obstructing... seen as interfering with law enforcement, take them too."

"Listen to me, Fudge! Think about what you're doing!" Dumbledore stepped forward, radiating an indescribable power.

Fudge couldn't help but step back, but still obstinately avoided looking at him. "You should also think about what you're doing, Dumbledore!" He retorted, waving his hand. The Aurors and enforcers, dark and numerous, advanced with their wands raised.

"Sorry, can't let you take the professor like that," Hermione raised her wand, trembling.

"Minister, I used to respect you, didn't expect—" Harry shook his head, stepping forward, with Ron beside him.

Fudge finally lost his composure, roaring, "Are you all going to defy the Ministry?"

"It depends on how you define 'defying the Ministry' and 'opposing tyranny,'" a voice echoed faintly from the crowd. Fred and George stepped forward, aiming their wands at Fudge.

Fudge's eyes widened.

Then another student stepped up.

"My grandmother said, stick to doing what's right. What you're doing isn't right," Neville said, trembling, raising his wand. His words garnered agreement from Gryffindor students.

"Minister, we hope you reconsider," Cedric said, standing with Collins and Roger in front of Harry. Students from the other three houses, led by these brave ones, stepped forward, wielding their wands against Fudge and the Aurors.

"We're going too," Draco Malfoy's gaze flickered, looking at the gathering crowd, speaking to his two lackeys.

Members of the Ancient Runes Society emerged;

Students who attended dueling classes stepped forward;

Those who took Ancient Runes courses came out;

And even students who had received casual guidance from Felix stepped out;

Red sparks flew from the wand tips, brighter than the night sky.

When only one or two people stood up, the Ministry's Aurors could push forward; when a third of the crowd pointed their wands, they halted; when more, influenced by solemnity and anger, silently raised their wands, outnumbering half, the Aurors wished to flee immediately.

"You, you all—"

Fudge stared in confusion at the wands pointed from all directions, as the courage amassed by the Aurors vanished like bursting soap bubbles. He felt dizzy, like taking a punch, with only one thought in his mind—

He was finished.

>

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