— — — — — —
The next day, under Lady Greengrass's careful coordination and the eager urging of the little snakes, most of Slytherin's pure-blood families gathered together.
Ministry officials. Wizengamot members. Hogwarts governors. Major shareholders. Owners of multiple businesses. Families with literal gold mines.
Anyone who could sneeze and give the entire British wizarding world a cold.
Leaving Dumbledore out of the equation, Slytherin's collective power was easily the greatest among the four Houses.
Hufflepuff had no real ambition and mostly filled foundational roles. Gryffindor chased glory and reputation. Every so often, a standout would burst into the spotlight, but it never lasted.
Only some Ravenclaws truly matched Slytherin in intelligence and ability. The technical departments of companies like Nimbus and the Floo Network were almost entirely staffed by Ravenclaws. Their hidden influence was nothing to scoff at.
The problem was that they were scattered.
Individually brilliant, together a mess. Instead of uniting against outsiders, they fought among themselves.
And Slytherins?
They were true old-timers of the wizarding world. Over centuries, they intermarried and allied. They weren't just classmates but relatives. After a thousand years of shared resources and interests, they naturally stood far above the other three Houses.
...
Lady Greengrass didn't waste words. Everything had already been discussed through the codex the night before. Once the last person arrived, she led the group in an imposing procession from the Magical Transportation Department straight toward the Minister's Office.
When they passed the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Amelia Bones saw the terrifying lineup and could only smile wryly.
After today, Cornelius Fudge was finished.
The entire Ministry already knew that yesterday he had tried to arrest Riddle, only to be stopped by Dumbledore. The situation had stalled.
And now, the other side had come knocking.
Bones had no faith that Fudge could suppress these entrenched powers. If he didn't get his face slapped clean off, that alone would count as skill.
When Lady Greengrass reached the Minister's private floor, raised voices were already echoing from inside the office. Everyone paused.
Huh? Someone had beaten them here?
"Crouch, what exactly are you trying to do?! Don't forget, you're no longer the head of Law Enforcement. You're just in charge of International Co-operation now!"
Fudge was both furious and rattled. Yesterday, Dumbledore had blocked him. Then the Daily Prophet tore into him. His nerves were already shot.
And this morning, Barty Crouch had barged in, demanding that the Ministry issue a public statement. They were to punish the perpetrators, investigate the masterminds, crack down on Knockturn Alley, and formally apologize to the Astra Abyssum Guild and Tom Riddle.
What shocked him even more was this sudden backbone. Crouch had been obedient for years, practically broken. Why was he suddenly so bold?
Did he still have designs on the Minister's chair?
"Minister Fudge, I'm simply doing my job."
Faced with Fudge's accusations, Crouch calmly pulled out a stack of letters. "Eighteen countries have issued formal condemnations at the same time. They believe Britain's security situation is unstable and are demanding guarantees for the safety of their citizens."
"Several countries are preparing to issue travel warnings. I've only managed to delay them for now."
Crouch looked at him without expression. "Minister Fudge, do you still think this has nothing to do with my department?"
"Th-this… I…"
Fudge opened his mouth but couldn't get the words out. He hadn't expected this mess to spread so fast, or for other countries to react so quickly.
No. That wasn't it.
This was Riddle applying pressure.
The realization hit Fudge all at once. Everything led back to Tom. His breathing turned ragged, his eyes bloodshot.
"Crouch, you're a British wizard! What other countries think is their problem. I will not allow a murderer to run rampant in Britain!"
Crouch frowned slightly. Fudge's reaction was even more extreme than he'd expected. A Minister determined to bulldoze forward left very few options.
Unless…
An impeachment through the Wizengamot?
A flash of cold resolve crossed Crouch's eyes. This was the first task Grindelwald had given him. Failure was not an option.
He might have lain low for years, but some of his old connections still remained. If he joined forces with Bones, or Scrimgeour, the chances of forcing Fudge out…
Just as Crouch was calculating how to bury Fudge in one decisive move, shouting erupted outside the door.
"Greengrass, you can't go in!"
"Move aside, Umbridge. This concerns the fate of the wizarding world. It has nothing to do with a lowly assistant like you."
Bang!
The door was shoved open. Umbridge was pushed inside along with it as a group of people stormed in, radiating pressure. Crouch recognized every single one of them. In fact, he knew them well.
They were regulars at his evening banquets and, more importantly, the Ministry's biggest financial backers. Every year, enormous donations flowed in from them.
"You… what are you doing?" Fudge stammered.
Lady Greengrass clearly had no patience left for polite chatter. "Minister Fudge, the horrors in Diagon Alley have shocked the pillars of the wizarding world. We're about to enter a new century, yet the vermin of Knockturn Alley and the goblins who lost multiple wizarding wars are still running rampant."
"If you refuse to take action and guarantee safety for business and daily life, then there's no reason for us to keep funding the Ministry."
She placed a list on the desk.
Fudge glanced down instinctively. As he read through it line by line, all the color drained from his face.
It was filled with signatures from donors. Not just Ministry funding either. Even donations to St Mungo's had been slashed by more than half.
"Oh, right." Lady Greengrass sounded as though she'd just remembered something, then drove the knife in deeper. "Yesterday, Gringotts offered its apology by unconditionally transferring all future income and management rights of the British branch to Tom Riddle. That means this year's accounts between Gringotts and the Ministry will have to be recalculated."
"Fudge," she said coolly, arms crossed, "do you have anything else you'd like to say?"
The Greengrass family had always stayed neutral, never picked sides, never joined power struggles.
But this wasn't a power struggle.
This was simply beating a loser. There was no risk to the family's future at all.
"How is this possible… why are even you helping Riddle?" Fudge felt like the sky was collapsing. His words came out scrambled. "Aren't you pure-bloods? Don't you despise Muggle-born wizards? That boy is just a—"
"Shut your mouth!"
An elderly Rosier snapped sharply. "Fudge, you ignorant fool. Mr. Riddle is a descendant of an ancient pure-blood line lost to history! I've found records in the Rosier archives that prove it! His bloodline is ten thousand times nobler than yours!"
"That's right!" someone from the Parkinson family shouted. "My family even married into Riddle's ancestors. If you don't believe it, come check our family tree!"
"His great-great-whatever grandmother was a Shafiq!" another voice chimed in. "Do you even know what that means? We are family."
"Uh... same here with the Malfoys."
"..."
Lady Greengrass's eyelid twitched.
Amid the chorus of voices, Tom's lineage was rapidly assembled into something impossibly glorious and prestigious.
"..." Fudge was stunned.
Foreign countries were against him. Now his domestic backers had turned as well.
What was this? The whole world as his enemy?
"Minister Fudge," Crouch said smoothly, savoring the moment, "it seems that not only our foreign friends, but also British wizards believe that the top priority right now is to clean up Knockturn Alley and issue an apology to the Astra Abyssum Guild."
Crouch felt utterly satisfied. His goal had been achieved.
But he hadn't expected Riddle's methods to be this elegant. To unite so many pure-blood families under one banner was no small feat.
...
As Fudge stood there, trapped and utterly lost, an aged voice sounded from the doorway, "Did I come at a bad time?"
Everyone turned. Wariness flashed across their faces as they instinctively stepped aside, opening a path.
"Dumbledore?!"
As Dumbledore walked forward step by step, the Slytherins watching him wore complex expressions. Hatred ran deep, but so did fear.
If not for this man blocking the Dark Lord back then, the wizarding world would already belong to them.
Only Lady Greengrass didn't retreat. She frowned and stopped in front of him. "Dumbledore, shouldn't you be at school looking after students instead of running around everywhere?"
She was worried this self-proclaimed guardian of order would interfere. If Dumbledore really decided to shield Fudge, and Fudge recovered afterward, that would be bad for them.
"Please rest assured, Seraphina," Dumbledore replied gently. "With Tom there, your children are perfectly safe. They're happy every day, though they've had a bit of friction with the Beauxbatons champion."
Lady Greengrass's face darkened.
That old fox. Was he mocking her precious daughters for competing with a Veela over a man?
Dumbledore was well aware of how Slytherin viewed him. He nodded politely to Lady Greengrass, stepped around her, and stopped in front of Fudge.
"Albus…" Fudge looked as if he'd grabbed his last lifeline. "Look at them! They're interfering with my decisions. I'm the Minister for Magic! This is all Riddle's scheme. That boy's ambition is terrifying. You have to stop them!"
In Fudge's rigid worldview, Dumbledore and the pure-bloods were natural enemies. Now that pure-bloods were openly backing Riddle, surely Dumbledore would finally wake up and stand with him.
But Dumbledore only shook his head and spoke softly. "Cornelius, stop. For your sake and for the wizarding world, make the right choice."
The light in Fudge's eyes went out completely.
.
.
.
Support the story by leaving some power stones!
And if you'd like to help me even more and dive into 50 advanced chapters, check out: patreon.com/_Coreal