HP: For a better world

"How could it be?" Fudge swallowed and repeated, "How could it be!"

The flesh on his face tensed and his voice rose involuntarily.

Umbridge leaned forward holding a copy of the Daily Prophet.

Fudge snatched it away.

The front page reads [Malfoy family kindly donates to St. Mungo’s – the hospital claims that this special fund will be used to help werewolf victims recover]

The picture on the front page showed Lucius standing next to Draco with a decent smile, and little Malfoy trying hard to keep a straight face as the father and son were interviewed by the media.

As two weeks passed and the werewolf on campus took the initiative to stay away, people's attention to this matter began to decrease.

In order to appease Draco, who was still worried about the half-blood, Lucius promised him to provide a sum of money to St. Mungo's so that the healers of St. Mungo's who were doing noble work could better help the innocent people who were harmed by werewolves and earn some charity from it - of course, Minister of Magic Fudge also made some useful promotion to the communication between the two sides.

Malfoy also paid a little extra to occupy the week, making sure to implore people to appreciate the good qualities of the Malfoy family, after all, it was a good reputation for the Malfoy heir to have a bit of a heart.

Fudge was relieved to find the report of the case on the last page of the newspaper. Then he was furious: "I must dismiss them - they actually let him escape after sending a prisoner, and let him kill two people. Let them expose this matter!"

"It's a good thing they thought it was just a dark wizard in a remote place committing the crime."

"Do I have to have them both chasing the babies with bottles to feed them before they can get this done?" Fudge said loudly, his eyes flashing with anger, and he threw the newspaper into Umbridge's arms in anger. Umbridge quickly caught it.

"First they let Sirius Black go. Then they let Peter Pettigrew go. If I didn't know they were such fools, I would have thought they were undercover agents sent by the dark wizards!"

"It's worse than that! How am I going to convince the public of Crouch's guilt once Peter Pettigrew runs away?"

"Dumbledore would not give me so many chances. He gave it to me on the premise that I promised him to give Black a fair answer! But now everything is ruined! If they let the news out -

People asked: 'Who is the real murderer of Mr. and Mrs. Potter?'

I said: 'Peter Pettigrew

Then Dumbledore and the others took out a crystal ball and a bunch of witnesses?!"

Fudge pulled out the chair at his desk.

"Should I still answer them: 'I'm sorry, we accidentally released the prisoners when we were sending them to prison'?" Fudge sat down angrily, poked the table hard with his hand a few times and cursed.

"You mean the crystal ball that was to be submitted to the Wizengamot?"

Umbridge asked.

Fudge said absentmindedly, "Yes, it is said to be the only recording -"

He searched through boxes and cabinets, shaking his wand to open a few cabinets on the opposite wall, then bent down and opened the drawer of the desk: "Of course I don't believe it... but there is indeed no trace of a replica."

"Excuse me, Minister. Forgive me for being a little curious. What will happen to you without Peter?"

Fudge was worriedly trying to unlock the drawer with his wand, then opening a pile of folders on the desk, and the papers slid down as he moved his fingers.

"What else can be done? Public doubts... change of elections... early resignation, just as the previous government was appointed to relax restrictions on Aurors and then supported Crouch to shorten the trial - and now the consequences are all coming to light - in my term."

"Originally, the responsibility should not be on my side, but Dumbledore handed the prisoner to me - the real murderer of the Potters, an innocent and loyal friend... the lack of reason in the war years, and the cruel killer let go by the Fudge government?"

Fudge was furious: "I don't know what else it would cause if all this got out except public outcry—"

"Cause you, the Minister, to resign?" Umbridge put on a harmless smile, "Oh, ahem, Minister... dear," she cleared her throat.

"I thought maybe you didn't need to be so alarmed?"

"Oh?" Fudge frowned and looked up, "This is very important, Dolores..."

"I mean... you know, sir, I have some friendly friends who are always willing to lend a hand when I'm confused - for example, helping me temporarily transfer some brave people who know too much to a place where no one knows, ensuring that they will not reveal any information that is harmful to you, and smoothing out the old employees who lack rest and financial resources."

Fudge narrowed his eyes.

"No one knows?" he asked.

"In fact, I have now controlled all the people who might leak the information... You know, they also have shares in the Daily Prophet... As long as you need them, they will be happy to do something for you, just like before..." Umbridge said vaguely.

"Tradition?" Fudge's voice rose slightly.

"Tradition." Umbridge nodded seriously.

Fudge thought uneasily for a moment, then looked up. "--what they want."

Umbridge said without hesitation: "Some convenience."

"Just some convenience?" asked Fudge suspiciously.

"Hmm... maybe there will be some tolerance? Of course, the most important thing is that they hope that next time they reject dark magic items, they will trust people like them first...peaceful and friendly people? - In order to ensure the prestige of the Ministry of Magic."

"After all..." Umbridge said with difficulty, "They also hope that their support will be recognized by everyone."

Fudge's mind flashed through a bunch of those pure-bloods' "bad deeds" and "rich family wealth"...

He took a deep breath, "That's all?"

Umbridge bowed respectfully to Fudge, with a sheepish, apologetic smile on her lips. She dropped all the affectations she had when speaking to her superiors, and her voice sounded normal, if not flattering at best.

"Of course... Out of concern for your little deal with Dumbledore, my friends suggest that it would be best for you to insert a dedicated and suitable helper into the Law Enforcement Department to help us delay and confuse the process of submitting witnesses to the court. It just so happens that the Director of the Law Enforcement Department is currently looking for retirement issues..."

Fudge was surprised: "She's retiring? How come I didn't know, well... a suitable helper... who?"

Umbridge bent further, her mouth stretched in an exaggerated grin, her smile deepening.

As if she was shy, her voice returned to the pretentious girlish tone she used to pretend in front of others.

"I am very ashamed, sir...but they all agree that I am fair, capable, clear-headed, and able to see exactly what I should do. I am sure I will not fail in this great responsibility-"

-

July came so quietly.

One day after the end of the complicated and chaotic June, Snape began to brew the last batch of potion according to the recipe left by Winston - there was no time to brew the next batch. He had already bought all the lacewings near Hogwarts that had been processed in advance and could arrive just in time for 21 days. The next step was to drip Winston's blood into the potion to complete the final guess.

The Quidditch World Cup was ringing in the Daily Prophet, attracting everyone's attention.

The world continues to move forward at its own leisurely pace as always.

The principal's office became noisy again.

Kingsley, who had just returned from Germany, found the information that Dumbledore had wanted to inquire about from the records of the Ministry of Magic. He came to visit Dumbledore on the official business of informing him that the other two schools in the Triwizard Tournament invited him to discuss specific projects.

He knocked on the door

"Come in, Kingsley," said Dumbledore.

Kingsley pushed the door open and walked in, and saw that Dumbledore had just put down the quill in his hand, and the ink stains on the letter paper were not yet dry.

"I think you don't mind if I post this letter first," said Dumbledore.

Kingsley made a gesture of invitation and pulled out some parchment from under his robe.

Dumbledore blew on the letter, folded it and put it in an envelope, summoned Fawkes the Phoenix, and mailed the letter.

Then Dumbledore turned his attention to Kingsley and greeted him, "Long time no see, Kingsley. I heard that you just came back from Germany. I believe your days there are as beautiful as the weather today. Please take a seat."

Kingsley pulled aside the armchair opposite Dumbledore and placed the pile of parchment on the table.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" Dumbledore asked politely.

"Thank you, Headmaster," said Kingsley. "I am thirsty."

Dumbledore smiled and glanced casually to the side.

The white porcelain teacup on the headmaster's desk jumped out of its own accord and landed in front of him and Kingsley. The empty teapot suddenly began to pour out reddish-brown, transparent tea, which stopped when it was one-third full, and gradually produced boiling hot steam.

The teapot floated up unsteadily and poured two cups of black tea for the two of them.

"I hope you don't mind, Kingsley. I used a little special magic to brew it quickly, so the taste may be a little less than usual, but it usually works well for situations like this when I don't have time to prepare it in advance for guests."

Kingsley waved his hand, picked up the teacup in front of him and took a sip.

"I thought you must have something to ask for me."

"The Minister asked me to convey the Ministry's notice. They request you to go with them to discuss the events of the Triwizard Tournament with the people from the other two schools... For the safety of the competition, they need some more respected wizards to judge it."

"I see. In fact, some of my little ideas are eager for that," said Dumbledore, noticing the pile of parchment Kingsley had placed on the table. "Anything else?"

Kingsley pushed the parchment over.

Dumbledore took the parchment handed to him by Kingsley, lowered his head to flip through a few pages and saw only a bunch of names and corresponding times, then raised his eyes to ask.

"This is the partial identity record of the deceased witches living in the Muggle community that you requested, as well as the Ministry of Magic's records of missing children in the same year." Kingsley said concisely, "I screened out those witches whose age range was not appropriate. The corresponding young wizards have been found, and those who have not been found in the past few years also have corresponding photo records."

Kingsley said in a low voice, "I visited the Wand Registry after I came back, but I still couldn't find the origin of the wand you told me about... Maybe this is the witch's second wand."

"As for the inheritance left by the witch you mentioned, the Ministry of Magic has no information about it. Maybe Gringotts has records, but obviously those goblins who claim not to reveal any wizard's wealth will not let me enter their archives to check."

"Perhaps you need to look for information from other sources," Kingsley said, "if the witch and wizard you are looking for are British."

"Thank you, Kingsley," Dumbledore said, putting the parchment aside and putting it in the drawer under the table. He put his hands together, "Your information is very helpful to me and helps me eliminate some options... I heard that your trip to Germany was a little uneasy?" Dumbledore chatted.

Kingsley poured the last sip of black tea into his mouth. "It's still within my ability. When I went to Germany for a few days, I found that the chaos in their country was getting worse. When we went to negotiate, a group of dark wizards launched an attack, which happened to be closer to the place where we lived at the time, about one kilometer. Therefore, during the talks, Minister Fudge used this news to condemn Germany for not doing a good job of security and leaking the news, which allowed the domestic chaos to affect us. With this, I won the qualification to host the competition."

"Attack?"

Kingsley nodded. "It seems that in the past few years... the Muggle country in the East disappeared all of a sudden. Not only are the Muggles a little restless, but the wizards who left there are also a little sad. I can't get to know the relationship between the dark wizards there in a short time. I can only understand that there has been some chaos in Germany in the past few years, but it only started to spread this year."

"Thank you, Kingsley." Dumbledore stood up and patted him on the shoulder affectionately. "Your information always helps me a lot."

"My pleasure." Kingsley said hoarsely, "After informing you, I have to go back to the Quidditch World Cup... The Ministry of Magic is always too busy, but if you need help, please feel free to call me."

"I will." Dumbledore nodded and smiled, watching Kingsley push the door and leave.

Turning around, he waved his hand, and the cup of tea was instantly cleared.

At this time in the Potions Office, Snape was completing the last step of brewing the potion.

The emerald green potion in the tin crucible was filled with smoke, and the color of the forest spread from the bottom of the potion to the top, falling into silence.

Snape waited patiently for the potion to cool and a drop of blood to drip gently into it.

Snape watched the potion change nervously.

The bottle of Felicis was at his hand.

The moment the blood touched the surface of the potion, flames surged up, starting from the treetops and engulfing the entire forest in an instant, then flowed slowly like blood, and finally calmed down.

Snape took out a portion to test the toxicity, and finally breathed a sigh of relief. He began to collect the pots and fill bottles in an orderly manner, and then hurriedly sent the new potion to the medical wing.