Sometimes, you have to find a way to make people eager to help you with work, so you don't dirty your own hands—
Half a month ago, Sirius didn't quite understand what William meant when he said this, until he saw Peter Pettigrew blown away by a powerful Blasting Curse right in front of him, looking as though he was buried in the wood chips from a blasted table, but Sirius could generally tell he was going to die—
Because he noticed that Peter Pettigrew's lower body was hanging from the railing behind Dumbledore.
Forget sending him to St Mungo's, even the legendary Philosopher's Stone might not be able to save Peter Pettigrew now.
So, Sirius just watched as Peter Pettigrew closed his eyes, simple and crude.
Everything still felt like a dream; the thrill of revenge surged through Sirius's heart in an instant, but soon a sense of emptiness followed. He looked at Peter Pettigrew's pale and skinny cheeks, but another handsome face appeared in his mind—
The man's face was always wearing a smile.
…The ones who've left can never return.
Sighing, Sirius's slightly hunched spine straightened up a little, because another face popped up in his mind—one that looked 80% like the previous one. If William could know what the man dazed on the defendant's bench was thinking, he would definitely criticize—
What the hell kind of replacement literature is this?
Looking at Peter Pettigrew who had completely closed his eyes, William, sitting in the jury seat, satisfactorily closed his "Ancient Runes: A New Comprehensive Guide," which he had been compiling. The developments hadn't deviated from the path he had set. The Peter Pettigrew he had "trained" for over half a month now had a very high tolerance—
In simple terms, Peter Pettigrew now wished he could be thrown into Azkaban, at least there would only be Dementors there.
Only god knows what he had gone through in these past half a month...
So, when Peter Pettigrew appeared in the dock, looking three to four times thinner than the photo on the file received by the Wizengamot jury, many people couldn't help feeling a fleeting sympathy for him, but soon, those voices vanished into thin air—
Because, tormented into a daze, Sirius didn't even follow the script to say a few words before Peter Pettigrew spilled all the "inside" information he knew like a bamboo tube pouring beans, regardless of whether it was outdated or not…
William immediately saw many faces on the field turning greener and greener, such as Lucius Malfoy sitting behind Fudge.
Green like the Black Lake outside the Slytherin Common Room window.
The Pure-Bloods' response was much faster than William had predicted. Indeed, only matters that could touch their "arteries" could stimulate these people's subjective initiative. What he had thought would drag on until the escort to Azkaban ended directly even before Dumbledore announced the verdict—
However, the trial continued, just with a different person. Dumbledore raised his hand and wiped the dust off his beard, looked at the perpetrator who pleaded guilty after killing Peter Pettigrew, and knocked his gavel, "…Life imprisonment in Azkaban."
The farce finally ended. Dumbledore, dressed in a purple-red robe, stood next to William, and the two looked up at the large hole blasted by the Blasting Curse.
It was said that the evidence was to be preserved, and the crime scene would be restored with a Repairing Charm after it was cleaned up.
"…Your Merlin Medal award ceremony will probably be delayed for a while."
The two were silent for a moment before Dumbledore spoke softly.
"What about the bonus?"
"Also delayed."
"Tch, is that fat guy thinking of rebelling again?"
Fudge, who had just stood up from his seat, suddenly shivered. He nervously looked around but couldn't find the source of his uneasiness. Watching the pink toad squeezing next to him, expressing concern and care, Fudge forced a reluctant smile.
Damn it, the more I look at this face, the more disgusting it gets… The man thought again about the pink toad with Umbridge's face he saw in his "dreams" every night recently.
Too terrifying, better to kick this person elsewhere.
Silently resolving in his heart, Fudge sighed and turned to leave the courtroom.
This farce was indeed unexpected, but it was within his range of tolerance. Never mind whether his political career would look good or not, he now understood that maintaining his physical and mental health was most important. At the thought that someone promised him that once this was resolved, he'd have a good sleep, Fudge couldn't help but touch his eye sockets—
His dark circles were so heavy they almost looked like that of an Eastern national treasure.
"Cornelius."
Lucius called out to Fudge as he passed by, noticing the other's listless look. Lucius blinked in confusion.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Malfoy, how have you been lately?"
Fudge nodded, and the two began to walk out, chatting softly like old friends meeting on the road.
"Not bad."
Lucius also casually replied while leading Fudge towards a dark corner. As the two stopped, even before Fudge spoke first, he saw Lucius very frankly lifting his purple-red robe sleeve. Watching the blue marks on the man's arm, Fudge couldn't help but widen his eyes.
"You…"
Just as he was about to speak, Lucius's actions stopped him. The pale-faced patriarch of the Malfoy family suddenly smiled, his tone calm, "I wonder if the Minister is available tonight?"
...
...
Even though he desperately wanted to go home and sleep like a log, Fudge still followed the Malfoy back to his house.
Dim flames danced in the fireplace; the sky outside had completely darkened. In the Malfoy family's dining room, a house-elf wearing a shabby apron was clearing the leftover food from the table. Once it closed the door and left, only Lucius and Fudge remained in the room.
Looking at the uneasy Minister in front of him, Lucius appeared somewhat indifferent—an act.
With a slightly trembling arm, he brought the tea to his lips, letting out a deep sigh. He truly didn't expect that his "new master" would also have the current Minister of Magic under his command…
Yes, if by now Malfoy couldn't discern that the person was definitely not Voldemort, then he might as well have wasted most of his life.
Aside from initially putting on a guise, William showed hardly any qualities of an actor, making it easy for Malfoy to distinguish the difference between him and Voldemort. After all, that old psychopath Voldemort liked to torture others for fun, a pathological pursuit—
There was no reason for such a sudden change of temperament, even for some "grand plan."
Yet, Lucius had no intention of exposing the other. Instead, he became increasingly cooperative, even intentionally reinforcing the new master's "identity" in front of the other former Death Eaters. Now, he was the sole representative of "Voldemort" within the organization, with almost every order from the master coming through him before relaying it to others—
Oh, this was just marvelous.
Voldemort would never relinquish power like this; that old bastard was like a voyeur, always keeping a tight grip on his underlings—
Moreover, Lucius felt that following this new master seemed much more promising than following the "Dark Lord" who was once defeated by a mere infant.
Not just promising, but profitable too.
Especially when the other informed him that Fudge had become one of them, Lucius immediately felt as though countless Golden Galleons were waving at him. He even wondered if, under his leadership, the Malfoy family, which had been suffering losses since Voldemort's downfall, might rise again?
For example, this man in front of him, because of his Death Eater identity, Fudge often used his position as Minister to extort Galleons from his family—
But now…
"Heh heh..."
What's this idiot laughing at?
Sitting at the other end of the dining table, Fudge noticed the expression on Lucius's face and paused for a moment…
A chill surged through his heart, the man restrained his discomfort, slowly reached out, and lifted his sleeve. A light blue flame-like pattern coiled around his forearm. It didn't seem conspicuous, but the twisted lines were identical to the symbol Lucius had displayed earlier.
"So, Lucius, you know what this is about."
Fudge sighed. Though he kept trying to convince himself it might truly be just some skin condition, the gradually deepening lines made him increasingly uneasy. He no longer cared about formalities, addressing him as Mr. Malfoy, but instead, looked at him with a pleading face, hoping for a better answer—
"It means you've received the favor of 'the sir'—"
Lucius also bared his forearm again. The next moment, the light blue pattern on Fudge's wrist seemed to ignite, the flame-like lines started to pulsate slowly, beating like a heart. Fudge, feeling as if someone was choking him, began to breathe heavily—
"Embrace it, Cornelius. It's the sir's test for you—"
Test you indeed…
Seeing Lucius completely behaving like a fanatic, Fudge's mouth twitched. He actually didn't feel any expected discomfort or other sensation, merely a quickening breath due to tension. Meanwhile, the pattern on his wrist grew more solid, becoming identical to Lucius's.
"This is…"
The man stroked his wrist, a flicker of dread in his eyes. He had indeed been marked without realizing it… truly unawares, because at the time, Dumbledore was still in the office, William couldn't have done this openly—
Hence, it was Lucius who was designed to contact Fudge and activate the seed planted within him.
It could have been done personally, but William didn't bother with the extra trip.
After all, it was just a distraction, primarily to keep Fudge silent. If not for Dumbledore indicating that a minister was still needed in the Ministry of Magic, William's original plan was to ensure Fudge's permanent silence.
Returning to the dining room of the Malfoy family, just as Lucius was preparing to enthusiastically explain further to Fudge after rolling down his sleeve, a dull noise interrupted their conversation—
"Boom—"
The house-elf who had just left not long ago crashed through the dining room door, flying into the room. A "bewitching" figure in a black robe stepped on the wooden door fragments and walked in. Under the gaze of the two Malfoys, the woman slowly removed the hood over her head—
Revealing a pair of crimson snake-like eyes.