"Perhaps it's because her brain has turned into the Ministry of Magic's rubber stamp," Cedric said with a chuckle, putting down his quill.
The small… no, large office, was instantly filled with a joyful atmosphere.
Meanwhile…
"He didn't hit me! He hit the Ministry of Magic's authority! He hit your face!"
In the Minister's office at the Ministry of Magic, Fudge looked at Umbridge, who was crying hysterically in front of him, his ashtray already overflowing with cigarette butts.
He was, in the true sense of the word, a lonely man now; apart from this fool in front of him—no, not a fool, but his last loyalist—he was truly alone.
It's likely that by the end of this year, or perhaps mid-next year, he'd probably be stepping down.
At that time, the entire Wizarding World would re-elect a Minister. Who would it be? Barty Crouch… Scrimgeour? Of course, it could also be Dumbledore… who could say for sure?
Before he could finish his thoughts, Umbridge's piercing wails came again from across from him.
"What is it?" Fudge sighed.
"Minister… I can't possibly do my work like this!" Umbridge wailed.
Fudge rubbed his face helplessly. He had originally only wanted Umbridge to annoy Hogwarts, perhaps by finding trouble here and there, but who knew she would go straight for the strongest target.
She truly had no self-awareness of her own strength.
Now he had to clean up her mess.
And this mess absolutely had to be cleaned up. Currently, Umbridge was probably the only person under him who could actually get things done.
If she also left him, he could truly just wait a year and a half to retire. However, if Umbridge could complete her task, for example, forcing Hogwarts to concede and Dumbledore to side with him, he might still have a chance to fight one last time…
What a load of rubbish!
Fudge's mind was already a bit deranged, actually thinking of using such a self-destructive method to make Dumbledore side with him… One must know Dumbledore wasn't a masochist… or maybe he was.
But even if Dumbledore did have special preferences, such tricks were not something Fudge could pull off.
And with Dumbledore's personality, if truly pushed, the likelihood of him sending someone to break into Fudge's house and kill him was higher than him conceding to help Fudge.
In this small office, the two deranged individuals formulated an even more insane and arrogant plan.
These two were not good at uniting teammates, but they were very good at fabricating charges, probably having learned from Lai Junchen.
A conspiracy targeting the Weasley Twins was thus freshly concocted in this small office. It wasn't much of a conspiracy, merely an attempt to force Hogwarts to expel the Weasley Twins under the charge of assaulting a Ministry of Magic employee. That was all. This charge and method were even excessively crude, and it only targeted the Weasley Twins.
It wasn't that they didn't want to take care of Cedric as well, but Cedric was currently too prominent. Ever since he became the champion of the Triwizard Tournament, his exposure was basically on par with Harry Potter's when he first defeated Lord Voldemort.
If he, as the Minister, were to target Cedric now, he probably wouldn't have to wait a year and a half; he'd be out of a job immediately.
As for Kayson…
Well, he's already lost one arm. If he loses another, he'll probably be even closer to becoming a mechanical Tyrannosaurus Rex.
"But… oh, Minister, the school board has all left us now, how should we… um, expel them?"
"If I have to solve everything, what use are you?" Fudge clearly hadn't yet grasped his true current situation and still casually used his usual condescending tone.
However, very quickly, Fudge saw Umbridge begin to take deep breaths, clearly gathering strength to continue wailing at him.
Fudge, startled, quickly made a stopping gesture.
"Stop, stop, stop… I'll think of a way for you," Fudge said with a sigh.
Almost instantly, Umbridge regained her composure, adopting her unique little-girl demeanor, looking exactly like a shriveled mummy loosely draped in a layer of soft chicken skin, with a face drawn by a kindergarten-level artist using a dollar-store watercolor set and shiny sequins plucked from clothing.
"What way?"
"I just thought about it. Expelling them is indeed difficult, but we can prevent them from attending classes normally. The usual method, a Wizengamot summons," Fudge said with a sigh.
"But Minister, we've been competing with Hogwarts, especially in the Wizengamot, and I don't think we've ever won, have we?" Umbridge frowned.
"Who told you to win? You just need to make sure they are constantly being tried in the Wizengamot. As long as the Hogwarts Professors go, you directly stall for time and then surrender, and then continue to find fault to make them go to the Wizengamot again."
"Like this, the Hogwarts Professors, led by Dumbledore, if they don't care for the two little brats from the Weasley, they will lose the Weasley's support. We will then have the opportunity to show favor to the Weasley."
"If they constantly run around for the Weasley Twins, they won't be able to teach properly. Then we'll see what they choose," Fudge said with an evil smile, clearly very pleased with the scheme he had conjured up on a whim.
Umbridge, from across the room, also quickly appeared beside Fudge with fawning praise, clapping her hands incessantly, her expression as if covered in a layer of frosting.
And at the same time…
Meanwhile…
Kayson sat in his office, looking at the two uninvited guests who appeared before him.
"You said you want to take a leave of absence, embark on a year-long magic journey, and conduct market research along the way?"
The Weasley Twins, standing opposite him, nodded quickly.
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