"SO WHAT?" Dumbledore asked calmly.
"Ugh.. don't choke me, Albus.. I said this is a political problem because the one who sentenced Sirius Black back then was Barty Crouch Sr. If it were someone else, it would be easy for me to help… ugh.. Mr. Black overturn his case. But back then, Barty Crouch was my competitor for the Minister position… and he lost," Fudge explained awkwardly.
"So… what does that mean?" Harry whispered to Sirius.
Sirius blinked, then turned to Kasenhis. "So, what does that mean?"
Kasenhis sighed, shooting them a glance that screamed Are you serious, Serius?
He thought to himself, They don't get this? Wait till Fudge leaves, I am absolutely roasting them for this.
He lowered his head, fiddling with his nails, but his ears were perked up, fully tuned in, waiting to hear what Fudge would say next.
"So what does that mean?" Ron finally asked directly.
"Huh?" Fudge looked at Ron.
"Why does it matter that it was Barty Crouch Sr. who sentenced Sirius? Why can't you help overturn the case?"
"Because," Fudge started, looking increasingly embarrassed, "he once ran against me for Minister. If I dig up his old mistakes now, it'll look like I'm vindictive, targeting him out of spite. That would hurt my chances for re-election."
Everyone in the office more or less accepted that explanation—except Ron, who continued to act as the mouthpiece for the entire room. "But… you already let Dementors into Hogwarts… and got your arm chopped off. Like… weren't your chances of re-election already dead?"
Fudge's face twisted awkwardly. After a long pause, he finally said, "Judging by that red hair... you must be a Weasley. Arthur Weasley's son?" Thɪs chapter is updated by 𝔫𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔩·𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢·𝔫𝔢𝔱
Ron was about to answer when Kasenhis subtly kicked him under the table, yanking him back from his 'I'm gonna verbally murder the Minister' brain loop. Ron finally remembered that, yeah… his dad still worked under this guy.
Then, thinking quickly under pressure, Ron blurted out, "I'm from the Decour family. Rosen Decour."
Kasenhis was dumbfounded. Decour? He had never heard that surname at Hogwarts.
Actually, it would've been weird if he had. The Decour family happened to be one of Arthur Weasley's promotion rivals at the Ministry… and they didn't even have kids yet.
"Oh… right, right. Thank you for the reminder, Mr. Decour. I must say, you don't look much like your father… wait a moment…" Fudge paused mid-sentence, his eyes slowly drifting to Ron's unmistakable fiery red hair.
He knew the Decours. Whether they had kids though… that he wasn't sure of. After all, he was the Minister for Magic, not the head of the Intelligence Department.
But he definitely knew Mrs. Decour—she also worked at the Ministry. In fact, she used to be on the same team as Arthur Weasley back when they were both clerks.
Oh.. outch... poor Mr. Decour.
Meanwhile, far away in the Ministry, the Decour couple continued living in blissful ignorance, utterly unaware that their reputations were being brutally sacrificed.
And the mastermind behind it all—Mr. Ronald Weasley—sat quietly in the shadows, hiding his great and terrible deeds, internally letting out a "kehehehe" style villain laugh.
In his mind, he was already picturing his father getting that glorious promotion, lifting him high into the air, while he dropkicked Percy, uppercutted the twins, and flexed on Bill and Charlie like they were nothing.
…Except Ginny. Ginny would always be the cherished little princess of the Weasley family!
Unlike Ron's daydreams, the atmosphere in the office remained just as awkward as before. Though Fudge had finally agreed to Dumbledore's terms—after taking a good few verbal backstabs from Ron—he still pulled out his own sneaky little bargaining chip.
"I want your support in getting re-elected as Minister for Magic," Fudge said, looking seriously at Dumbledore.
Kasenhis, sitting in the corner, couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Looking at the state of the British wizarding world… yeah, we're doomed."
Yep, this was peak Kasenhis "Lord Kai" mode.
Fudge's mouth twitched uncontrollably, and after a brief, awkward pause, he stood up stiffly. "Of course… this is merely… a business proposal. You're free to decline." He straightened his robe, clearly ready to bolt for the door.
Sirius just shrugged. For him, it didn't really matter either way. At worst, it just meant spending a few more years being a dog, crashing in Kasenhis's office until the next Minister came along to clear his name.
Kasenhis, on the other hand, wasn't having any of that.
Living under the same roof as a man who just so happened to also be a literal dog was already testing the very limits of his sanity. And besides—this was England.
Plus, he was still looking forward to hanging up that "No Dogs or Sirius Allowed" sign outside his office door. No way was he waiting several years for that.
His brilliant mind spun into motion. "Or… hear me out… why don't we just take Fudge out right here? Then we don't have to wait for his term to end. We wait a few days—problem solved."
Fudge, who'd only pretended to be halfway out the door, slowly turned his head back, completely dumbfounded, staring at Kasenhis.
After all, while this thick-browed lunatic had sliced off one of his arms, Fudge had to admit he still somewhat admired the man for risking everything to protect Hogwarts students from danger.
But this… THIS… Was this guy seriously suggesting murdering the Minister for Magic right here in broad daylight?
Even more outrageous was that Dumbledore didn't reject the idea outright. Instead, he lowered his eyelids, looking as if he were seriously considering it.
"...I need time," he finally said with a sigh.
"Exactly what I expected! I knew you'd be our most sincere friend," Kasenhis said, grinning from ear to ear.
"So... about that re-election matter..." Fudge asked cautiously.
Dumbledore lowered his gaze again—not because he intended to refuse, but because his mind wandered back to the conversation he'd had with Lucius Malfoy the day before.
Lucius Malfoy was without a doubt one of the most seasoned Death Eaters, and unlike most, he maintained close contact with many others, including those locked up in Azkaban.
On top of that, judging by the current climate, there really wasn't a single wizarding family more attuned to the undercurrents of the magical world than the Malfoys.
If even the Malfoys sensed that the wizarding world was heading for troubled times, combined with all the chaos that had unfolded ever since Harry enrolled at Hogwarts, it was becoming painfully obvious that things were indeed going downhill—fast.
Dumbledore also vividly remembered a certain prophecy Grindelwald had once told him.
Just a single phrase: "The mountain rain is coming."
"I recall there's a clause in the Ministry's regulations... that when the wizarding world faces a major crisis—say, during wartime—the Minister for Magic is automatically granted an extension in office, correct?" Dumbledore asked softly.
"There is such a clause… but more likely, I'd just get kicked out by the public, and they'd replace me with a more radical minister. After all, that so-called re-election clause has barely ever been used properly," Fudge said bitterly.
"That's simple then—just become more radical yourself," Dumbledore replied casually.
"Well, that's easy to say… but where am I supposed to find a war for the wizarding world?" Fudge grumbled.
Dumbledore simply smiled without saying a word.
Fudge's face twisted like he'd just swallowed a mouthful of dung: "This crisis… you mean I have to find it myself, don't you?"
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