Eventually, Fudge followed Dumbledore to the Headmaster's office.

No way, he himself had studied in this school and spent seven years in this school.

Because of this, he learned that there are no absolute secrets in this school.

For thousands of years, countless secret rooms and secret passages have been built to protect students and hide all kinds of secrets, and many teachers are not necessarily aware of the school's secrets.

Even if you gather the memories of students from all ages who like to explore and put their memories together into a map, you can't paint a picture of Hogwarts.

But maybe Dumbledore knew?

I couldn't help but look up at the old man who was slowly sitting down in his seat, and Fudge couldn't help but have such a thought in his heart.

If it had been Dumbledore, he should have known about the secret rooms that existed in the school.

But soon, Mr. Minister of Magic suppressed all the jumbled thoughts in his head.

He wouldn't continue to ask Dumbledore for help.

It was not because of any self-esteem, but because of his heart, he had already had unconcealable doubts about this old man who had given a lot of help.

He wouldn't really believe that Dumbledore would provide an empty chamber, just as he wouldn't trust the old man to cover for himself forever.

Because, after all, there are irreconcilable contradictions and conflicts between them!

"Connelly, do you have anything you want to drink?"

When Fudge really came to his senses, it was Dumbledore's elegant voice that lingered in his ears.

When the Minister looked at the old headmaster, he noticed that a cup had appeared in his hand.

"Want a glass of sweet milk? The taste is still very good. ”

"Nope."

Without even the slightest hesitation, Fudge quickly shook his head.

"No need."

"That's a pity."

He didn't show excessive enthusiasm, and the old man just slowly picked up the cup in his hand.

'Hiss'

In the incredibly quiet headmaster's room, only the sound of Dumbledore drinking milk.

Fudge was so uneasy by the old man's unhurried attitude that he forced himself to look away from the old man's white beard and to the rest of the headmaster's room.

When he was a student, he also came to the principal's office.

Decades have passed, and the environment doesn't seem to have changed at all.

The portraits of the principals follow their own rules, never actively participating in the conversation, not opening their eyes, but sleeping quietly - except for one person.

Fudge could easily see that among the many portraits of the headmaster, Principal Phineas in the center was completely tied up.

The rope was wrapped around and around, from the body to the feet, and the mouth was stuffed with cloth.

The exaggerated colors that overflow all around seem to represent the 'magic effect' that exists in the portrait.

The headmaster was tied up without an image, staring at this side with a pair of wolf-like eyes.

"Black ......"

Seeing his last name, Fudge felt his heart throb for no reason.

"Albus!"

The weakness and uneasiness that swelled up from the bottom of my heart finally made Mr. Minister take the lead in speaking.

His subconsciously raised voice also made the old principal make a simple response:

"Huh?"

Without asking too much, Dumbledore held out his hand and motioned for him to continue.

"We ...... We can't sit here any longer, Albus. ”

He had looked full of momentum before, but Fudge didn't have much confidence when he faced Dumbledore alone.

In the end, his voice couldn't help but start to develop in a low direction, and could only be reminded and hinted at in a vague way.

He wanted to bind himself to Dumbledore and remind the old man about the dangers of something.

"Yes, you're right, we can't continue to sit here."

Slowly placing the remaining half glass of milk on the table, Dumbledore said calmly.

His response sent a little joy through Fudge's heart.

He knew Dumbledore would understand.

However, before he could be happy, the old headmaster's next words shattered all his thoughts.

"So, when are you going to send someone over and take Peter away?"

“…… What? ”

Like a duck choked by the throat, Mr. Minister couldn't help but let out a strange scream.

Dumbledore, on the other hand, completely ignored his gaffe.

"I should have told you this in the letter, Peter is now in the school, and a teacher I can trust is guarding over him."

"I know, but Albus, you should also understand that if this matter must spread, there will be a lot of turmoil,"

At this point, Fudge didn't feel the need to continue to wrestle here.

"It took us a long time to make the turmoil disappear, and it was a long time for the wizards to come out of the shadows of ten years ago, Albus, we ......"

"We were all wrong."

Catching Fudge's gaze, Dumbledore spoke slowly.

And his unhurried words made Fudge's face redden, and his already somewhat fat face trembled.

He obviously wanted to say something, but he just felt something stuck in his throat, and he couldn't make a sound.

Fudge could only listen to the teachings of the elders:

"Since you have made a mistake, you have to admit it...... Just fix your mistakes, isn't it? ”

Clearly, Dumbledore's thinking was clearly different from that of a traditional bureaucrat like him.

He can afford to take it and put it down.

Admitting mistakes was as simple to him as turning down the position of Minister of Magic.

But what about the rest?

A mistake by the Ministry of Magic.

own mistakes.

The legacy of the Black family.

Thought after thought echoed in his mind, and Fudge thought a lot, but none of them were spoken.

Even he himself understands that when it comes to the justification of certain things, those reasons are not on the table.

At least, it's a far cry from his own propaganda.

"Connelly, I made a mistake at the time, and I'll take care of it with you."

It's easy, but you know how much effort I've put into it!

Do you know how many people will want to impeach me once this matter is exposed!

You've just done nothing, but you're famous enough to suppress those voices!

Fudge wanted to shout, but he couldn't help but look away from the old headmaster's broad gaze.

I can't face it, and I don't have the confidence to call it.

"I ...... I know. ”

Thinking about it, Fudge couldn't help but take a deep breath in the end.

He lowered his head.

"I'll arrange these things, Albus, but ......"

"Just what?"

"Peter must first hand it over to the Ministry of Magic......"