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The Daily Prophet delivered the latest news from the magical world, prompting young wizards juggling exams to remark, "Fudge finally did something right."
Fudge's efforts to clear Black's name were remarkably proactive—partly to quell the mounting criticism against him and partly to avoid once again facing Grindelwald's terrifying grin. With a gun pressed to his head, Fudge found a decisiveness he'd never shown before. Although he was often seen as an incompetent fool in office, no one who could hold such a position was truly foolish. Slicing off his own assets felt like cutting into his own flesh, but in just a few days, Fudge saw his family's wealth shrink by nearly 60%. He carved out the portion of assets he'd previously taken from the Black family.
These holdings were worth millions of Galleons: a potion garden, a magical creature breeding ground, a magic ore refinery, and even a large alchemy workshop that produced components for magical equipment companies, like those making broomsticks.
Each of these was an incredibly stable source of Galleons, and if his life hadn't been on the line, Fudge would never have willingly surrendered such valuable assets.
Of course, as Fudge sacrificed parts of his own wealth to save himself, he hadn't forgotten the "friends" who had initially helped him. The first to suffer was Malfoy. Known as one of the magical world's ultimate schemers, Malfoy was not as straightforward as he appeared.
Though the Malfoy family never produced a Minister for Magic, they had manipulated the Ministry on more than one occasion. The most notorious Malfoy, Septimus Malfoy, essentially turned Ancktulus Osbert, the Minister of Magic in the 18th century, into his puppet.
Had Septimus Malfoy not been so vain and boastful, his control over the puppet Minister might have gone unnoticed. As they say: when you see one cockroach, there's usually a whole nest hidden out of sight.
The Malfoys once cursed the Muggle Queen of England, killing all the Muggles around their estate under the guise of the Black Death. They even plotted the assassination of the first Muggle-born Minister for Magic and succeeded in taking him down.
Their cruelty was almost beyond belief, but the Malfoys did have one flaw—they were both exceedingly daring and exceedingly cowardly. The Malfoy family, masters of playing all sides, was the first pure-blood family to swear loyalty to Voldemort, and the first to switch sides and submit to the Ministry after Voldemort's downfall. Loyalty, to them, was a flexible concept.
Knowing this about Malfoy, Fudge immediately approached Lucius Malfoy. Brandishing Grindelwald's banner, Fudge effectively wiped out his former "political ally." Between them, they'd taken nearly 70% of the assets split from the Black estate, amassing millions of Galleons in property that generated vast wealth over the past decade. Now, however, it was time to bleed.
Drinking in silence, Fudge chuckled bitterly, realizing that though he'd taken a significant hit, Malfoy was no better off; the Malfoy family's wealth had shrunk by half.
The foolish Lucius, eager to see the Malfoys become England's leading pure-blood family after Black's downfall, had shared part of his newfound wealth with his cronies, hoping to establish a Malfoy-centered network.
While it's easy to give away benefits, reclaiming them is another matter. To maintain his family's current status and keep his network intact, Lucius would need to pay his allies out of the Black assets.
Imagining the bigger headache Lucius must be enduring, Fudge found himself unexpectedly comforted.
He reached up and touched his neck; the loose skin was a sign of his recent weight loss. But with the metaphorical gun finally off his head, he could, at last, breathe a sigh of relief.
On his desk lay a fresh batch of "intelligence," including word of Ernan Crabbe, the current head of the Crabbe family, being "suicided" right at his doorstep.
As everyone knew, the Malfoy family had two loyal minions—Goyle and Crabbe. While not counted among the Sacred Twenty-Eight, these pure-blood families kept with tradition through inbreeding.
This led to certain... deficiencies. Neither family was particularly sharp. The Goyles, simple-minded as they were, followed Malfoy's lead in the asset-cutting process. But the Crabbes, who had a bit more cunning, resisted handing over their share. Perhaps sensing Malfoy's possible downfall, the elder Crabbe made a foolish misstep.
Old Crabbe's lifeless body was found with a look of startled calm on his face, a sure sign it wasn't Malfoy's doing. Malfoy would have taken a quieter approach to dispose of a defiant follower. The instigators here were the Saints of the Purity Party.
Witnesses reported seeing a group of wizards in strange armor storming the gates of the Crabbe estate. They dismantled the protective charms, and as Crabbe, enraged, came out wielding his wand, he was forced to turn it on himself.
These wizards left quietly, their only identifying mark the unmistakable symbol of the Deathly Hallows—circle, triangle, and line—emblazoned on their armor. In the magical world, only the Purity Party dared use this emblem.
Trembling, Fudge set fire to the report. The witness who reported it had his memory wiped by Aurors, and the matter was buried with no one left to question it.
Grindelwald had once held up three fingers to Fudge, and today marked the fourth day since Peter had been brought in.
It was also the first day Sirius Black, discharged from his initial treatment at St. Mungo's, left the hospital.
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"I need to see Harry! Dumbledore!"
A gaunt, skeletal man gripped Dumbledore's arm with surprising strength, his voice urgent and pleading.
"Not yet, Sirius," Dumbledore replied, gently shaking his head. "Harry is still taking exams, and you need to rest."
"But the healer already said I'm fine!"
"This is only preliminary recovery. Azkaban drained you, Sirius—you need time to recuperate," Dumbledore said kindly, conjuring a mirror.
"Take a look. This is you now, compared to how you once were." Alongside the mirror, he produced an old photograph. In it, Sirius stood dashing and handsome, the kind of noble young man who turned heads wherever he went. But the reflection in the mirror now revealed a shadow of that man, an emaciated figure barely distinguishable from a walking skeleton.
"You wouldn't want Harry's first sight of you to be like this, would you? After all, you're his godfather."
"Oh, and by the way, Harry knows that Severus is his godfather, too. They've even formed a rather good bond."
"What… did… you… say?!"
Sirius's voice rose to a near shout. He was on the verge of storming out, but Dumbledore, with a resigned expression, guided him firmly back to his bed.
"Yelling won't help, Sirius. Rushing over there won't change anything. But if you could make a good first impression..."
"Bring me your best healer!" Sirius shouted, jamming down the call button. "And don't talk to me about money—I want the fastest, best treatment, now!"
Sirius grabbed a quill from the nearby table and scribbled a series of numbers in a messy scrawl that would brighten anyone's eyes. It wouldn't be long before St. Mungo's top craftsmen were swarming around him, taking measurements. Appearance mattered, after all, and Sirius, a pure-blood aristocrat, understood this all too well.
While everything was proceeding steadily, Harry—now finished with his exams—sat by the window, absentmindedly chewing on a quill.
"My first real holiday," he murmured.
"Where should I plan… I mean, organize a team retreat?"
Two months of complete relaxation would waste all the momentum Harry's battle group had recently built. Such a long holiday couldn't be squandered.
"But where to go?"
As the leader, it was Harry's responsibility to come up with something exciting for the team.
(End of Chapter)