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Cornelius Fudge's command carried the full weight of the Minister for Magic.
However, the Aurors standing behind him hesitated, clearly reluctant to follow through, after all, most of them had once walked these very corridors as Hogwarts students.
To disarm their forr professors?
Who would dare be the first to raise a wand?
Certainly not those raised and trained under the sa roof.
But of course, if they wouldn't do it, soone else would. Noticing their visible discomfort, an elderly witch in a sickly pink cardigan stepped forward, a scowl twisting her features with irritation.
"Didn't you hear the Minister's instructions?" She snapped sharply, advancing with clipped steps and a self-important air.
"Umbridge," Fudge sighed with visible relief, his face brightening as if salvation had arrived in a knitted sweater. "You never fail when it counts."
The elderly witch, Dolores Umbridge, had rescued him from embarrassnt just in ti.
"I live to serve, Minister. My loyalty to you and the Ministry is unwavering. No whisper of rebellion or outside influence shall sway !" She simpered, her voice sweet yet oily as she moved to confiscate the wands of Professor McGonagall and the man currently wearing Gilderoy Lockhart's face.
"I believe you must have received flawed intelligence. While a professor has indeed been killed, this tragedy has nothing whatsoever to do with Albus," McGonagall said cautiously, her voice laced with quiet dignity.
She was clearly weighing her options, whether to hand over her wand and comply. Minerva McGonagall, ever mindful of the larger picture, rarely made decisions based on pride alone. And deep down, she refused to believe that Albus Dumbledore, of all people, could be tangled in sothing as foul as dark magic rituals.
"Whether there is truth or falsehood, we shall uncover it. The Ministry does not wrongly accuse the innocent, nor will we allow the guilty to go free. I trust you understand, we are simply fulfilling our sworn duty," Umbridge declared with exaggerated righteousness, though her condescension bled through as she cast a superior glance toward McGonagall.
Though displeased, McGonagall moved as if to comply. However, the man beside her, Grindelwald, hidden beneath Lockhart's borrowed features, clearly had no intention of indulging Umbridge's theatrics.
"A wand is as vital to a wizard as breath itself. No one is taking mine," Grindelwald stated, his voice calm but laced with steel, his expression darkening.
"You dare defy the law?" Umbridge hissed, her smile twisting into sothing venomous. "Don't think for a mont that being a celebrated author entitles you to rebel against the Ministry. There will be consequences."
"Is that a threat?" Grindelwald's tone turned frostbitten as his gaze bore into hers, sharp, unflinching, and utterly chilling.
Umbridge faltered under his stare. A cold sensation prickled along her spine. Her knees wobbled ever so slightly.
Fear? Rage? Both emotions clashed in her chest. How could this... flamboyant showman provoke such a visceral reaction in her?
She was Dolores Umbridge, after all! A rising star at the Ministry! The Minister's most trusted confidante!
"If you resist, don't bla us for what happens next," She snapped, brandishing her wand like a cudgel. But to Grindelwald, it may as well have been a child's toy, or a twig fouled by a Hippogriff.
"Don't escalate this, Professor Lockhart," McGonagall interjected quickly, trying to deescalate the mounting tension. But Grindelwald remained unshaken.
"There is no law that permits the confiscation of a wizard's wand without cause or conviction," He said evenly.
"If these officials presu the right to act above the law, then they are no longer keepers of peace, they are disruptors of it. They pose more danger to our students than any spell gone astray. And I daresay Albus would not fault us for holding our ground." His voice was soft, yet each word carried the weight of stone and the pull of gravity itself.
McGonagall paused. Then, slowly, she lowered her hand and kept her wand.
"Impressive. The previous Dark Lord really is sothing else," Ian thought from the shadows, awestruck. "Even Professor McGonagall was moved by his reasoning."
Ian wasn't worried about being caught.
After all, his Disillusionnt Charm was nothing short of masterful. At his current level, not even a trained Auror would detect him crouched in the corner, tightly clutching the note Grindelwald had slipped him.
"Has the Ministry gone completely mad? Targeting Dumbledore like this?" Ian still hadn't moved, despite the note's instructions.
He was curious, not only about the circumstances surrounding Professor Quirrell's death, but also at the boldness of the Ministry to make an enemy of Albus Dumbledore so openly.
Sothing about this wasn't right.
Everyone knew Cornelius Fudge had long tried to do anything to beco Dumbledore's favorite. Even when Albus had acted against Ministry wishes, Fudge preferred to overlook it, sweeping matters under the rug to avoid a public rift.
Take the Gringotts break-in, for example, the Ministry had scrambled to cover it up, all to avoid provoking Dumbledore.
So this sudden, direct confrontation couldn't simply be Minister Fudge growing a backbone overnight.
No... this had been orchestrated.
And Ian intended to find out by whom.
"Damn it! Silence! You're openly defying the Ministry! This is outright rebellion!" Umbridge's shrill voice made her sound more like a croaking toad in a pink cardigan.
She was used to throwing accusations at anyone like she is doing now to Professor McGonagall and Grindelwald, a tactic that had always worked in the past. But this ti, she had finally t her match.
"It's you who are trampling the law," Grindelwald said, his tone calm, almost disinterested.
"Enough!" Before Umbridge could respond, Minister Fudge, his face ashen with anger, glared at Grindelwald, as if he were trying to morise the man's features.
"This is a Ministry investigation! Every wizard has a duty to cooperate! Don't think Hogwarts is above the law!" Minister Fudge's voice was firm, but the undercurrent of tension was palpable.
"I will cooperate, but if you abandon respect for the law, then I will consider your actions as a voluntary forfeiture of the law's protection," Grindelwald said smoothly, his words hanging in the air, as if an invisible weight had settled in the room.
The Aurors shifted uncomfortably, unable to breathe easily in the heavy silence.
Just as Umbridge, her face darkening with fury, stepped forward to berate Grindelwald for his arrogance, a familiar voice broke through the tension.
"Fudge, long ti no see."
Albus Dumbledore appeared at the top of the staircase, his purple robes flowing gracefully as he descended. His movents were slow, but no one dared underestimate the Headmaster of Hogwarts.
"Is the Headmaster hiding sothing?" Ian noted sothing others missed, Dumbledore's heartbeat was slightly faster than usual. Perhaps the Headmaster had rushed here on a jog.
Was he here to deal with the Ministry, or was it to protect them? After all, Grindelwald and the Ministry had nearly co to blows earlier.
As Ian pondered this, the Aurors couldn't help but lower their heads in respect, not daring to et Dumbledore's gaze. Minister Fudge, though clearly displeased, restrained himself, aware that Dumbledore was not to be trifled with.
"Albus, long ti no see," Fudge said, his voice betraying a forced smile.
"I heard you're here to investigate ? Do you believe I had anything to do with Professor Quirrell's death?" Dumbledore said, walking down the stairs with an air of calmness. His gaze rested on Quirrell's body, lying outside Snape's office. He did not seem surprised or confused, though his eyes lingered on Quirrell's lifeless form for a mont.
Then, Dumbledore's eyes swept across the room, and Ian, hiding in the corner, felt the weight of his gaze. It wasn't sharp, but it was significant. Ian imdiately understood the ssage conveyed by Dumbledore's eyes, it was the sa as Grindelwald's note.
"What's going on?" Ian didn't fully grasp what the two older wizards were up to, but reluctantly, he turned and left, heading for the Headmaster's office on the top floor.
Behind him, the confrontation continued to unfold.
(To Be Continued…)
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