bioinnovel Chapter 111 Gradually Drifting Away, Books Fading Away
Chapter 111 Gradually Drifting Away, Books Fading Away
Chapter 111 Gradually Drifting Away, Books Fading Away
As time goes by, everyone changes to some extent.
Belvina is changing; she went from initially resisting Dumbledore to now choosing to stand by the headmaster's side.
Connelly Fudge has also changed, from an inconspicuous deputy director to a minister, and now to a stable position with great power.
Along with Fudge's change, his mindset also shifted. His constantly evolving inner world was like loading gunpowder into a flintlock pistol, waiting for someone to put down the bullet and pull the trigger.
In the cubicle with the three brooms, Cornelius Fudge's face was solemn. His heart was pounding, but reason told him that now was not the time, at least not now, and he could not lose Dumbledore.
"Belvina, how much time Dumbledore gets isn't up to me to decide," Fudge said helplessly. "It's his decision. If attacks continue to occur at the school, the Ministry of Magic has to do something."
Fudge continued fiddling with his messy gray hair, an anxious look on his face, and said, "If the attacks continue, Dumbledore will have to give an explanation."
This wasn't Fudge or the Ministry of Magic making things difficult for Dumbledore; it was a responsibility that the headmaster had to bear: either catch the real culprit and prevent the attack from happening again, or resign and replace him with someone who could catch the culprit.
But if even Dumbledore couldn't find the answer, who could do it better than him?
"That's only right, Minister," Belvina said, still calm, as if she wasn't worried about Dumbledore's situation at all.
Belvina believed Dumbledore could handle the Chamber of Secrets, not only because she trusted his abilities, but also because she knew the Chamber of Secrets would eventually be resolved.
In an open-book exam with multiple-choice questions, Belvina had no reason to answer incorrectly.
This is why Belvina wasn't worried at all after the attack; she simply had no clue what to do.
Doing your job well and not causing trouble is the greatest contribution you can make.
"Minister, do you remember when I went to Azkaban this summer?" Belvina said, trying to deliberately change the subject.
"I remember, how could I forget?" Fudge said without hesitation. "After returning from Azkaban, you went to the ministry almost every day to tell everyone that Belvina Black was safe and sound."
Fudge was not aware that she was going through old case files. He thought that Belvina was expanding her network and, more importantly, showing off to certain people, thus extinguishing any improper thoughts she might have.
Fudge remained skeptical as to whether someone truly harbored malicious intent and ordered the Dementors to attack Belvina, who was visiting Azkaban.
On the one hand, he felt that Belvina's behavior at school was somewhat out of line and might have attracted retaliation; on the other hand, he felt that the Dementors would not escape the Ministry of Magic's control and that no one could bypass him to command the Dementors.
"Minister, don't you think those pure-blood wizards have been too active in the last six months?" Belvina subtly sowed discord.
She continued, "The Muggle Studies professor was attacked before the start of the semester, and the locked room was opened after the semester started, resulting in a Muggle-born student being admitted to the school hospital."
Belvina didn't finish her sentence; this was no longer a hint, but a direct statement, shifting the blame onto those fanatical pure-blood supremacists.
The plan is to surround the pure-bloods to rescue Dumbledore, thereby distracting Fudge and temporarily diverting the Minister's attention from Hogwarts, thus preventing him from causing trouble.
The sudden appearance of the Chamber of Secrets in Slytherin, followed by two consecutive attacks, has turned Hogwarts into a sweltering furnace. If the Ministry of Magic and the Board of Governors keep getting involved, they might as well just close the school down.
"Don't tell anyone about your speculation again," Fudge said solemnly. "Your unfounded speculation could negate all the Ministry of Magic's efforts over the past ten years, and the hard-won stability could vanish. Turmoil should be avoided if possible." Cornelius Fudge's expression was serious, and his tone was solemn, but there was no blame in his words, which was good news.
"I won't tell anyone except you," Belvina said, "including Dumbledore."
"Sigh, maybe I shouldn't have recommended you go back to Hogwarts in the first place," Fudge said helplessly, rubbing his furrowed brow. "If you hadn't left the Ministry of Magic, there wouldn't be so much trouble."
Cornelius Fudge regretted it. He shouldn't have rushed into what he thought was a grand plan in a moment of impulsiveness, and he shouldn't have placed so much importance on maintaining his relationship with Dumbledore.
If Belvina hadn't been let go and hadn't come to Hogwarts to "gild" herself, she could still have entered various powerful departments, instead of being a professor of the insignificant Muggle Studies class as she is now.
After a long while, Fudge slowly spoke his decision: "Next year, next summer I will find a way to get you to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. I know, I know Belvina. Just hang in there for this last year."
Belvina remained noncommittal, neither nodding in agreement nor expressing her disapproval.
Dumbledore could influence Cornelius Fudge's decisions, but Cornelius Fudge didn't have enough power to influence Dumbledore's choice of teachers.
As for the curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts professorship, it does sound terrifying. Every professor there is bound to have an accident, earning them the nickname "professors who die every year." Considering that Quirinus Quirrell even lost his life, it makes it even more frightening.
In reality, very few people would risk their lives like Quirrell. If Voldemort hadn't cruelly abandoned him, Quirrell might not have died, or at least not at Hogwarts.
Belvina believed that as long as she didn't cause trouble to live up to her surname, her personal safety would be guaranteed even if she were to actually take on the role of Defense Against the Dark Arts.
However, even if Belvina doesn't cause trouble, Hogwarts will still not be peaceful as long as Harry Potter is at school.
Hogwarts will never have peace.
Just as Belvina was daydreaming and inwardly cursing Mr. Potter as a jinx, Cornelius Fudge stood up, smoothed out the wrinkles in his robes, and straightened his collar and cuffs.
After the minister finished tidying up his appearance, the two left the cubicle one after the other and rejoined the crowded and noisy group of three brooms.
"Minister, is there anything else you need?" Lady Rosmerta hurriedly came forward. The Minister of Magic was the most distinguished guest today, and he had to be made to feel at home.
"No, no, Rosmerta." Connelly Fudge waved his hand with a smile. The minister's appearance was deceptive; he was short, chubby, and stocky, looking like an easy-going, kind-hearted person.
Fudge waved to Bassheda at the far end of the bar, then said, "I don't need anything. I need to get back to London right away. I have a lot of things to take care of!"
With that, Fudge led the two big, dumb bodyguards toward the door.
The tall, burly bodyguard pushed open the door, and the cold wind from outside once again rushed into the warm tavern, but the patrons dared not speak out in anger.
Cornelius Fudge stood in the doorway, turned to look at Belvina, and said with a smile, "Merry Christmas, Belvina."
"Merry Christmas, Minister," Belvina replied with a smile, surprised that the first person to wish her a "Merry Christmas" this year would be Cornelius Fudge.
"Be careful," Cornelius Fudge whispered again, then walked out with three brooms without looking back, and he and his two bodyguards quickly disappeared from sight.
Belvina stared at the bustling crowd outside the three brooms, and for a moment, she felt a little down.
Once upon a time, Belvina and Fudge were inseparable; one was the Minister of Magic who had struck it rich, and the other was the head of the Press Office who had been left to his own devices. But now, they seemed to be drifting apart.
"What's wrong? Are you sad?" Bassheda stepped forward, keenly sensing her friend's change in mood.
Basilda handed over a glass of single malt whiskey; the sight of the ice cubes made one's gums and head ache. She continued, "You're usually so talkative in class, but you can't handle this?"
Belvina took the wine glass, glared at her friend, and pointed at how the glass was freezing cold, even her hands were cold!
"How could I possibly develop feelings for someone who's just a tool, and feel sad about it?" Belvina said seemingly calmly. "Cornelly was handpicked by me so that I could have a more comfortable life in the Ministry of Magic, just like the rag doll I used to hug when I was a child."
"You still sleep with your stuffed animals?" Bassheda asked incredulously. "I've never heard of that before. Tell me, what do your stuffed animals look like?"
As she spoke, Bassheda clenched her right fist and slammed it against her left palm, exclaiming with sudden realization, "With the Black family's immense wealth, your doll must be exquisite, perhaps even more refined than Paul's puppet!"
With the playful banter of the ancient sweetheart, Belvina's initial unease vanished instantly, and she began to sympathize with poor Paul Bernard.
Belvina raised her glass and downed it in one gulp, chewing the ice cubes with a satisfying crunch.
Of course, it's normal to get a headache from being exposed to ice; there's no need to panic.
"No, you actually drank it!" Bassheda exclaimed in surprise.