— — — — — —
"..."
Inside the Minister's office, only Fudge and Dumbledore remained.
Umbridge had originally wanted to stay and listen in, but under Dumbledore's calm, steady gaze, she crumbled and backed out with a face full of resentment.
Fudge could tell Dumbledore wasn't here in a friendly mood, but he honestly couldn't figure out why.
Harry Potter was fine, none of the other students were traumatized, and the only real damage was on the Dementors' side. So why on earth was Dumbledore angry?
Still, faced with a clearly displeased Dumbledore, Fudge felt a knot tighten in his chest. He forced out a thin smile.
"Albus, you're back so soon. You didn't find Grindelwald?"
"He's very good at hiding." Dumbledore said calmly. "I was planning to stay in North America for a while to search. Who could've guessed that in less than twenty-four hours after I left, Hogwarts would run into a crisis."
"Crisis?"
Fudge jumped at the word. "No, no, no, it's not that serious, Albus. The Dementors just… well… they got a bit agitated when they failed to find Lestrange and Lockhart, and since no criminals have been fed to them lately, they wandered toward Hogwarts by mistake."
"...A very convenient excuse."
Dumbledore leaned forward slightly. "Cornelius, I can compromise on many things. I can even understand the difficulties of running such an enormous Ministry. But when it comes to the students, I don't care about your reasons."
"Because the truth is that a student almost died thanks to those Dementors."
"Albus, it could have happened, yes, but it didn't. That's not the same thing."
"I don't want even the possibility of it happening again," Dumbledore said, his voice low and firm. "As long as students are at Hogwarts, every one of them is under my protection. This is the last time. Understood?"
Fudge felt a suffocating pressure he couldn't put into words.
Why did Dumbledore dare to lecture him — practically command him — like this? He was the Minister for Magic!
But even with anger bubbling up inside him, Fudge knew he absolutely couldn't afford a confrontation right now. Grindelwald's escape had instantly made Dumbledore more important than ever. After the Congress incident, people gained a painfully clear idea of what a top-tier wizard was capable of.
Public opinion across the magical world was settling on one idea: only Dumbledore could face Grindelwald. Ministers from other countries had been lining up to cozy up to him.
Fudge had even started wondering whether Grindelwald's escape was orchestrated by Dumbledore himself — the two of them playing a long game to seize control of the wizarding world.
If he offended Dumbledore now, plenty of people would immediately turn on him.
So… he swallowed it.
"Albus, I truly am sorry."
Fudge's face was full of earnest remorse. "It was the Ministry's negligence that nearly put Potter in danger. I can promise nothing like this will happen again. If you hadn't returned, I'd probably be issuing warnings to them right now."
Dumbledore didn't care whether Fudge meant a single word. He only cared about the outcome.
"Cornelius, don't you think the Dementors' presence is unnecessary? There's no evidence Lockhart and Lestrange ever came near Hogwarts."
"It's been more than two months since term started, and they haven't shown up anywhere nearby. Instead, someone spotted two individuals resembling them in Yorkshire — conveniently, right next to the Lestrange family's ancestral home."
Fudge understood the implication and frowned. "You're suggesting… we withdraw the Dementors?"
"A very good solution," Dumbledore said approvingly, finally showing a smile for the first time since entering the office. "Azkaban is where Dementors belong."
Fudge hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
Plenty of people had already suggested removing them — especially Ministry officials who had children at Hogwarts.
Scrimgeour, too, believed the two fugitives would never willingly walk into a trap. Only if the Ministry appeared to relax or give up would they make a move. Classic 'lure the snake out of its hole.'
Dumbledore's proposal gave Fudge the perfect excuse to agree.
And with the fugitives lying low for so long, public fear and outrage were fading. Fudge wasn't eager to keep pushing the issue either.
With his goal achieved, Dumbledore didn't push him any further and stood to leave.
Before walking out, he added kindly, "Cornelius, Tom cares a great deal about the safety of his friends. He's already told me he's not happy about this. So… prepare yourself. He's much harder to talk to than I am."
With that, Dumbledore opened the door and stepped out, leaving Fudge staring blankly after him.
It took a long moment for Fudge to snap back to himself. Then he slammed a hand on the desk in frustration.
'Those Hogwarts people never stop, do they? What, do I have to take complaints in shifts now? And I haven't even made them pay for the loss of over a hundred Dementors!'
Still, he didn't take Dumbledore's warning seriously. He'd interacted with Tom Riddle a handful of times, always pleasantly enough. Fudge liked to think the two of them had a decent relationship. At worst, Tom would complain a bit.
But he was wrong.
Tom was like the real serpent of Slytherin, jaw already open wide. Unless he tore a chunk out of Fudge this time, he would never let it go.
And it wasn't only about defending his friends and girls. This was purely business.
After all, a First Class Order of Merlin could be earned more than once. Who would pass up a chance like that?
Plus, Fudge and the Ministry were classic examples of treating people differently depending on who complained. If this had been a Muggle-born parent or some struggling half-blood, they wouldn't have cared in the slightest.
But Slytherin students came from all kinds of families. Some had relatives living long-term in Azkaban, but others — like the Malfoys — were wealthy donors with real influence in the Ministry.
Tom quietly nudged a few of the sharper Slytherins. They immediately understood and promised they'd talk to their families.
A Dementor attacking a student? Absolutely unacceptable.
Some of them realized Tom was angling for his own benefit in all this, but none of them thought it was wrong. On the contrary, they admired him. This was classic Slytherin behavior: clever, ambitious, and never wasting a good opportunity.
Loners and selfless saints didn't thrive in Slytherin. People like that couldn't help anyone else rise.
So after a lively chat with the upper-years using the Codex, Tom was planning to track down Malfoy and Rosier. Those two were too dense for subtle hints; he needed to tell them directly what to do.
But just then, a message from Newt threw off his plans.
"Daphne, come with me. I'm taking you somewhere."
Daphne, who'd been happily gossiping with her friends, blinked in confusion as Tom pulled her out of the castle.
---
Dorset, Bournemouth
A famous seaside resort in England, just two hours from London. The Scamander family's ancestral home lay near the quiet cliffs outside town.
"You got here fast, Tom."
Tom snorted. "I'm nowhere near as quick as you. Vanishing without a word and suddenly moving back in… oh, right. I wanted to bring Rolf along, but that kid is hopeless. Too scared to leave school. So it's just Daphne this time."
Daphne gave a polite, well-practiced greeting. "Good afternoon, Grandpa Newt."
Newt smiled and led them through the iron gate that had appeared before him.
He actually hadn't planned to bother Tom today, but Tina insisted. To be precise, she insisted Daphne be brought over. Tom was just an accessory. Newt, who ranked fairly low in household authority, had no choice but to follow her orders.
This estate was much larger than their home in New York, though long abandoned and a bit desolate.
"We only arrived this morning," Newt said as they walked. "As you can see, no one's lived here for decades. We've got our work cut out for us."
"Where's your brother?" Tom asked.
"Theseus?" Newt laughed. "He's even wilder than I ever was. Off who-knows-where, traveling the world."
"How long are you planning to stay?"
"Probably until Rolf graduates. I'm tired of skyscrapers. Bournemouth's coastline is a refreshing change."
As he spoke, Tina appeared, directing enchanted tools that were sweeping the place clean. Newt, being the dutiful husband, rushed over to take the work out of her hands. With her free time restored, she led Tom and Daphne inside.
"Ventus Purgo!" (Whirlwind Clean)
Tom flicked his wand. A miniature cyclone spun through the living room, gentle enough not to disturb a single object but efficient enough to suck up every speck of dust. It all shot out the window and piled up neatly in a mound.
Tina put her hands on her hips with a dramatic sigh. "Even your housekeeping spells are better than mine. Am I really that bad?"
Tom gave an awkward laugh. There was no safe way to answer that.
Tina's talent was almost entirely in combat. The two of them had sparred plenty, and honestly, he thought Tina hit harder than Snape.
Fortunately, Tina didn't push the topic. She pulled Daphne aside to chat.
After her experience meeting the Flamel couple, Daphne handled the "meeting the family" vibes much better this time. She wasn't nearly as nervous and quickly had Tina laughing nonstop.
While they chatted away happily, Tom slipped into his study space and dragged Grindelwald out for interrogation.
"Old G, you're terrible. Look what you've done. Poor Newt was so scared of you he ran all the way back to Britain to hide."
"Ran? Why?" Grindelwald frowned. "I was planning to visit him soon, have a bit of fun."
He shot Tom a contemptuous look. "And terrible? Really? You're the one who helped me the most. This chaos in the wizarding world is at least eighty percent your doing."
"That's slander," Tom said righteously. "I only restored your health. That was payment for your teaching. Breaking out of prison was your choice. Did I use even one spell to help you?"
Grindelwald stared at him, speechless. For a moment he wondered if even the Killing Curse could pierce Tom's shamelessness.
This boy was unbelievable.
.
.
.