Fudge put on a masterful display of changing faces.
In the entire British wizarding world, there were only two people he truly feared.
The first was Dumbledore. Dumbledore's prestige was so overwhelming that if he ever announced his intention to run for Minister of Magic, no one else would even be qualified to compete.
Fortunately, for all these years, Dumbledore had been content to mind his own domain and had shown Fudge sufficient respect. That was the only reason Fudge had been able to relax even slightly.
The second was old Barty Crouch.
Before Amelia Bones, Crouch had served as the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and had been a leading candidate for the next Minister. He was not only highly capable but also famously iron-fisted and impartial, earning him considerable support.
Unfortunately for him, his son became a Death Eater and tortured the Longbottoms into insanity. From that moment on, Crouch's reputation plummeted.
After Fudge took office, he immediately transferred Crouch to the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Compared to the immense power of Magical Law Enforcement, it was a department with no real authority.
Even so, Fudge never dared let his guard down. To this day, he vividly remembered Crouch's commanding presence when he held real power, looking more like a Minister than the Minister himself.
Dumbledore's casual reminder made everything suddenly clear.
Eleven years ago, Fudge had only been a minor deputy head in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, cleaning up trivial messes. No matter how accountability was assigned, it would never reach him.
Back then, it was Crouch who had insisted on taking a hard line against Death Eaters, pushing for maximum punishment. With so many criminals, many were sentenced directly without proper investigation or evidence.
In the blink of an eye, Fudge came up with countless ways to suppress Crouch.
Seeing Harry still pounding Peter until blood was flowing, Fudge hurriedly had two Aurors step in to stop him. They could not afford to damage the prisoner.
Then Fudge warmly clasped Dumbledore's hand.
"Albus, I've thought it through. No matter how difficult it is, fairness and truth are what the public deserves to know."
"Don't worry. I'll initiate a full investigation as soon as I return. Everyone involved back then will be reviewed."
The speech was delivered with righteous fervor. Harry's opinion of Fudge rose sharply, believing him to be a fine Minister.
Only Snape and Dumbledore caught the deeper meaning.
The focus was not Sirius Black's innocence, but political enemies from the past.
Snape sneered inwardly and showed no reaction. Dumbledore simply nodded gently.
"Cornelius, you are the Minister of Magic. The decision is yours."
That attitude made Fudge feel even more comfortable, his tone growing increasingly familiar.
During their casual conversation, when Fudge learned that it had once again been Tom who uncovered Peter Pettigrew, he was visibly surprised.
"It seems Mr. Riddle is truly capable. He's helped the Ministry more than once."
Thinking of something, he grew delighted.
"That makes things even better. One medal needs to be revoked, and another needs to be awarded. This way, we can preserve the value of the Order of Merlin."
"Oh?" Dumbledore asked with interest. "Has it been decided?"
Fudge nodded with a smile.
"A few more members agreed last night. The approval rate is already over seventy percent. With a bit more coordination, we can officially issue the medal."
"That truly is good news," Dumbledore smiled as well, though there was a trace of wistfulness. "A twelve-year-old recipient of the First Class Order of Merlin. Unprecedented."
"Tell me about it," Fudge said enviously. "I had to wait until near retirement to earn one, and that boy gets it first."
Harry, utterly clueless about wizarding politics, felt little at this exchange. Ron, on the other hand, nearly dropped his jaw.
Tom was really going to receive the First Class Order of Merlin?
Before leaving, Fudge made sure to put on a final show, kindly comforting Harry and promising him a healthy godfather. Only then did he leave, taking Peter with him under Snape's reluctant gaze.
...
Elsewhere, Tom also received news from Mrs. Greengrass. His First Class Order of Merlin had finally been approved. However, judging by the Ministry's usual inefficiency, it would probably take another month before the award ceremony was held.
This allowed Tom to finally breathe a sigh of relief.
The Fifth Trial had been the one that held him up the longest. Dragged all the way into summer, it had taken nearly a full year. At last, he had crossed to the other shore.
Had money been spent?
Of course it had.
Mrs. Greengrass did not say how much, only that the amount was negligible.
Damn it.
In Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Tom suddenly muttered under his breath, "Sooner or later, I'll plow through all of them."
Someone as outstanding as him still being blocked by so-called seniority and age. The world was clearly already rotten. If it was going to rot anyway, why should he not be the one enjoying it?
That role, he was definitely going to take.
Since it was class time, Peter Pettigrew being taken away caused little disturbance. Fudge would not announce anything for now. He needed to gather more evidence against Crouch.
Dumbledore, of course, knew that he had effectively sold out old Barty Crouch. Life would not be easy for him in the future, but that was all.
Crouch still had connections within the Ministry, and at the time, harsh punishment for Death Eaters had been a societal consensus. It would not land him in Azkaban.
If Sirius could be released, Dumbledore would gain a reliable ally, and Harry's growth could be guided far better.
Everything was a choice made through careful weighing of interests.
...
In the blink of an eye, another half month passed. The term was nearing its end, and final exams were approaching. Young witches and wizards hurried through the castle corridors, heavy schoolbags clutched to their chests.
After being held once last week, the public dueling class would not be held again this term. This was a relief for most Hogwarts students. Aside from a small handful of exceptionally talented ones, most were simply no match for Ilvermorny and Castelobruxo.
But outstanding students had never been the true measure of a school. There would always be intelligent, gifted, hardworking individuals. Even without teachers, they could grow.
The real standard lay in the average level of the student body…