Chapter 326: Chapter 326
"Oh, Minister!"
Madam Rosmerta poked her head out from behind the bar, her voice filled with pleasant surprise.
"How did you find the time to come to Hogsmeade?"
Fudge removed his hat, revealing his well-maintained round face.
"I missed your rum, of course," he said. "To be honest, I’ve been thinking about having a glass ever since I finished work."
Lynn clicked his tongue inwardly, thinking that he truly was a politician. Lies came to him as naturally as breathing.
The Minister for Magic coming all the way to Hogsmeade for a drink after work?
Probably no one would believe it if it were said aloud, but Madam Rosmerta clearly didn’t think so.
"Thank you for the compliment, Minister."
She turned to Umbridge behind Fudge.
"And... Senior Undersecretary, what about you?"
Umbridge took a step forward.
"Mead with cherry."
The smile on Madam Rosmerta’s face stiffened for a split second.
She was likely nauseated by that voice, but she quickly returned to normal, said, "Please wait a moment," and turned to leave.
Fudge’s gaze swept across the pub, and then he saw Lynn sitting in the corner.
"Long time no see, Lynn."
He waved at Lynn, his smile exceptionally warm. Anyone who didn’t know better would have thought they were the oldest of friends.
Lynn gave him a slight nod, the corners of his mouth curling slightly in what barely passed for a smile.
Fudge strode over and sat down opposite Lynn.
Umbridge followed behind him and sat at Lynn’s side.
She sat right on the edge of the seat, keeping as much distance from Lynn as possible, as if she were afraid of touching him.
Madam Rosmerta came over with a tray, placing a glass of rum in front of Fudge and a glass of mead in front of Umbridge.
Fudge picked up his glass, took a sip, and praised it as "fine liquor."
Rosmerta smiled, told him to "drink slowly," and returned to the bar.
Fudge set down his glass, looked at Lynn, and began making small talk.
"The weather is quite nice today," he said.
Lynn glanced at the gray sky outside the window and said nothing.
"How has Hogwarts been lately?" Fudge asked again. "Are the courses intense? You’re in fifth year. The O.W.L.s are coming up soon, aren’t they?"
"It’s all right," Lynn said.
"I heard from Dolores that your grades have always been excellent."
Fudge’s tone carried a benevolence that seemed to say, I care about students.
"An Order of Merlin, First Class—remarkable. To have such achievements at such a young age, you certainly have a bright future ahead of you."
"You flatter me," Lynn said.
The two continued chatting back and forth like this.
They talked about the weather, Hogwarts, the O.W.L. exams, the Quidditch World Cup, this year’s harvest, and a certain new policy recently introduced by the Ministry of Magic.
For every sentence Fudge spoke, Lynn gave a response.
For every question Fudge asked, Lynn gave a one-word answer.
The topics changed one after another, but each was more meaningless than the last.
Umbridge sat beside them with her head lowered, quietly drinking her mead.
Lynn wasn’t in a hurry either.
If Fudge wanted to chat, he would accompany him.
He didn’t have anything to do today anyway, and he had already had his fill of orange soda. He would simply treat it as watching a play.
Fudge’s topics drifted further and further afield.
From Hogwarts to the Ministry of Magic.
From the Ministry to the International Confederation of Wizards.
And from there to what materials wizards in certain African tribes used to make wands.
Lynn listened and nodded occasionally.
He wanted to see just how long this Minister could keep rambling.
Another ten minutes or so passed.
Fudge finally brought the topic around to Dumbledore.
"How has Dumbledore been lately?"
His tone was casual, as if he were merely asking about an old friend.
"I heard he’s on leave?"
Lynn looked at Fudge’s face, which was trying hard to show an expression of I’m only asking casually, and clicked his tongue inwardly.
"Yes, Minister," he said. "Professor McGonagall said that Headmaster Dumbledore is on leave."
"Oh, leave is good."
Fudge nodded, looking very understanding.
"After working so hard for the Wizarding World for so many years, he truly deserves a good rest."
He picked up his rum, took a sip, and set the glass down again.
"By the way—"
His voice lowered, as if he had suddenly remembered something.
"I heard from Dolores that you wanted to see me?"
Here it comes.
Lynn set down the glass in his hand, his expression working hard to assume the appearance of someone deeply concerned about the country and its people.
He frowned slightly, the corners of his mouth drooping as his gaze became a little more solemn.
"Yes, Minister."
His voice also lowered.
"I believe there are some things I should tell you."
The expression on Fudge’s face was visibly struggling to hold back a smile.
"Oh—"
He dragged out the syllable.
"What is it?"
"It’s about Headmaster Dumbledore," Lynn said.
"He’s going to run for Minister for Magic."
His voice wasn’t loud, but every word was spoken clearly.
The smile on Fudge’s face vanished without a trace in an instant.
After two seconds—or perhaps three, or even longer, Lynn didn’t bother counting—Fudge’s expression finally began to change.
"What did you say?"
His hand slammed onto the table with a bang, making the glasses jump.
"Dumbledore is going to run for Minister for Magic?!"
He repeated each word with emphasis, as if confirming whether he had heard correctly.
This reaction was even greater than Lynn had expected.
He had thought Fudge would first put on an act, test the source of the information, or ask, "What evidence do you have?"
The result?
This Minister for Magic didn’t even bother pretending.
But that was fine.
The stronger the reaction, the better the show.
"Yes, Minister," Lynn said calmly. "A while ago, I attended one of his gatherings. Dumbledore said it himself."
"Absurd!"
Fudge abruptly straightened.
"Ridiculous! Do you think I’ll believe your nonsense?"
When he said this, even Fudge probably didn’t believe himself.
Because his expression didn’t say, I don’t believe it.
It said, I don’t dare believe it.
Lynn looked at him and decided to continue making things difficult for Dumbledore.
"It’s true, Minister."
Lynn lowered his voice a little more.
"I heard it with my own ears. He said it at the gathering. He said it in front of many people."
He didn’t say who those people were.
Nor did he say when it happened.
The vaguer the details were, the more Fudge would fill them in himself.
And people always believed what they filled in themselves more than what others told them.
Fudge’s lips moved.
Unwilling to give up, he confirmed once more.
"He said he wants to run for Minister for Magic?"
"More than that."
Lynn paused briefly.
"Dumbledore also spoke about the resurrection of You-Know-Who."
Fudge immediately reacted on instinct.
"The Ministry has said many times that that person cannot possibly be resurrected!"
Lynn ignored Fudge’s murderous gaze and continued speaking.
"But Dumbledore believes he can return, and that this can benefit him."
Fudge’s voice faltered.
"Everyone knows he is the only one capable of dealing with You-Know-Who."
Lynn paused again.
"This would allow him to gain enough prestige in a short period of time."
Fudge’s eyes flickered.
Then he quietly sat back, his expression thoughtful.
"I’m curious."
Fudge’s voice returned to its initial calm.
"What else did Dumbledore say at the gathering?"
Lynn looked at him and thought, He’s hooked.
His brow furrowed slightly, and his gaze shifted upward, as if he were recalling something very important.
"He said that after being elected Minister for Magic, he would go all out to spread the news that You-Know-Who had been resurrected."
Fudge: ????
"Why?"
This reaction was entirely within Lynn’s expectations.
Fudge was probably thinking right now:
What benefit would spreading news of You-Know-Who’s resurrection bring Dumbledore?
Wouldn’t that cause panic?
Wouldn’t that throw the Wizarding World into chaos?
Wouldn’t that make people feel even more that he, as Minister for Magic, was incompetent?
He couldn’t figure it out.
"Because only then can he logically declare that the Wizarding World has entered a state of war."
Fudge’s pupils contracted.
"And during wartime, there are no ministerial elections."
"As long as he doesn’t make any mistakes too serious..."
Lynn looked at him calmly.
"He can remain in that position indefinitely."
Clatter—
The glass in Fudge’s hand slipped and fell to the floor, shattering into pieces.
Behind the bar, Madam Rosmerta looked up and glanced over.
Several guests sitting farther away also turned their heads, peering curiously in their direction.
Lynn looked up at Fudge and saw that there was no longer even a trace of worry about Dumbledore "usurping power" on his face.
"Lynn, I’m glad you told me this."
Fudge took a deep breath, trying to calm his emotions.
"You have made a tremendous contribution to the Wizarding World."
"It’s what I should do," Lynn said modestly.
"Very good."
Fudge’s voice gradually steadied, regaining a bit of the dignity a Minister should have.
"Very good."
The scene fell silent for a moment.
Lynn pulled out his Magic Phone to check the time.
It was getting late.
His beautiful Saturday was almost over before he had even had the chance to enjoy it.
"Minister," Lynn said, standing up, "I have class this afternoon. I’ll be going now."
Fudge nodded quickly.
He probably hadn’t even heard what Lynn said.
Lynn stretched, threw his coat over his shoulder, and walked out of the Three Broomsticks, leaving behind only a deeply contemplative Fudge.
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