In 1991, Cornelius Fudge had only been Minister for Magic for two years. Still new to his position, he hadn't yet solidified alliances with the various wizarding families or built his own network of influence. At this point, he needed Dumbledore's support—especially from someone as powerful and respected as the Headmaster of Hogwarts.
So, when he received word from Hogwarts, Fudge hurried over with a beaming smile and a friendly, accommodating demeanor. It was hard to believe that, just a few years later, when his influence had grown, he would come to view Dumbledore with contempt—treating him as a figure to be manipulated rather than respected, dismissing his advice with condescension.
As the saying goes, "He who takes is beholden." With so much at stake, Fudge wasted no time assuring Professor McGonagall that he would do his utmost to control Boggarts, suppress related information, and keep a vigilant watch for any potential threats. His response was carefully measured—he had to present himself as competent and in control.
However, the Director of the Department of Mysteries, who had accompanied Fudge to Hogwarts, wasn't as cordial. He pressed for more details, trying to dig deeper into the matter. But under Professor McGonagall's composed and precise answers, he didn't gain any useful information.
The situation, while certainly dangerous, had been swiftly contained. There had been no major disruption, no cause for alarm. It was little more than a simple report to the Ministry of Magic, and with nothing more to go on, even the Department of Mysteries had no grounds to act.
Frustrated, the head of the Department of Mysteries was reluctantly ushered away from Hogwarts by Fudge.
Once they were alone, the Director couldn't hold his displeasure any longer.
"Fudge, this is no small matter. Are you really doing your duty as Minister for Magic by handling it like this?" His tone was sharp, no longer respectful.
Fudge, clearly irked, shot back, "Of course I know it's serious. I'm not blind, nor am I stupid."
The Director, not satisfied with Fudge's response, pressed further. "Then what are you going to do about it?"
Fudge interrupted him before he could finish, his voice rising. "What do you want me to do?"
"The way this has been handled is completely out of character for McGonagall and Dumbledore," the Director insisted, his frown deepening. "You know how meticulous they are. And you've seen Snape, Flitwick, Sprout—the heads of house? None of them would act this way either."
Fudge let out a thoughtful hum as he mulled over the Director's words. "So, you're referring to the girl who was standing behind McGonagall when we spoke?"
"The Seer?" the Director asked, his curiosity piqued. Being from the Department of Mysteries, he was always keenly aware of individuals who exhibited unusual magical abilities. They had files on such people, and their research focused heavily on extraordinary magical phenomena.
"Yes," Fudge nodded. "Although your department has a file on her, certain information is restricted and can only be accessed with my approval as Minister."
He paused, ensuring the Director was paying attention. "Let me ask you this—why didn't the magical communities in the Middle East try to capture a Seer who was wreaking havoc during the Gulf War? You know how difficult it was to suppress the news of an 11-year-old breaking through modern military lines, don't you?"
The Director blinked, trying to piece together what Fudge was suggesting.
"Isn't it strange?" Fudge pressed. "They could've captured the Seer first, then fought amongst themselves afterward. But they didn't. Instead, they let this Seer run wild on the battlefield. Why would they do that?"
The Director remained silent, still uncertain.
Fudge's eyes gleamed with understanding as he finally laid the issue bare. "This is connected to the Fear Demon."
The Director's brow furrowed in confusion. "Are you suggesting that these things are related?"
"Yes," Fudge said, his tone blunt. He had no patience for ambiguity at this point. "Have you read Ritual Magic is Far More Than Blood Sacrifice?"
The Director's expression shifted, his curiosity piqued. "Of course. It's a key text in the study of modern magic. Its author was instrumental in verifying several important magical theories. Even though it's hundreds of years old, it remains influential. Many in our department have studied it."
Fudge nodded approvingly. "That book holds a particular importance in the wizarding world, like The Nine Chapters on the Mathematical Art does for the Han Dynasty. Even though it's not commonly read, those working in related fields will always take the time to look through it."
He leaned in slightly, his voice taking on a reflective tone. "Ritual magic—true ritual magic—is pervasive. You don't even need to prepare anything. Just people's collective belief can form rituals that have far-reaching effects."
Fudge's eyes narrowed as he quoted a passage from the book's preface: "That pantheon has nearly 4 billion believers. With the belief of just tens of millions of people, they could forge holy artifacts in ancient times. Do you really think no wizard has ever tried to tap into that kind of power?"
The Director snorted, unconvinced. "Impossible. No one could borrow that kind of power."
Fudge smiled knowingly. "It's not about borrowing power, it's about creating it. And it's possible. Just like in the Gulf War, we've been hiding our eyes from the full extent of the magic that can be wielded."
If the power of faith were as easy to harness as Fudge suggested, wizards would have long ago used their magic to create churches or similar institutions. But unlike simple belief, the power of faith is not only incredibly difficult to control, it's also... toxic. Even when channeled into alchemical items, it can cause disastrous side effects. Let alone... wait! Suddenly, Fudge's point hit him—everything came together in an instant.
"Understood now?" Fudge pressed on. "A large amount of belief naturally coalesces into powerful forces. That young Seer, posing as a religious prophet, has been performing 'miracles' for years. During the Gulf War, whether on the enemy side or the allied side, a massive amount of faith would have been concentrated on him."
"He's a wizard, and so more vulnerable to such forces. Yet no strange phenomena have emerged around him."
Fudge continued, his voice slightly more urgent: "This isn't the kind of 'hope' that Harry Potter embodies—it's something more extreme, a far larger concentration of faith."
"And sometimes," Fudge paused, "the absence of abnormality is the most glaring abnormality of all."
He stopped, allowing the weight of his words to settle in. "Though I'm not the most powerful wizard, sitting as Minister for Magic gives me access to a great deal of information."
"Typically, there are three possibilities for his situation. First, the abnormality within him could still be accumulating. Second, he might possess a unique physiology that shields him from some of the adverse effects—though it's uncertain whether he'd also avoid the benefits of that power. The third possibility is far more troubling: His existence might be an even greater anomaly than the faith itself."
Fudge's expression turned serious as he locked eyes with the person from the Department of Mysteries. "Consider this premise carefully."
He leaned in slightly, his voice low. "Now think back. Why didn't the wizards in the Middle East capture this Seer? Why did Dumbledore offer his support during the Wizengamot trial and allow the boy to enter Hogwarts? Why has the situation in the Middle East escalated recently? And why isn't Dumbledore in England now, but instead has personally gone there?"
Fudge's eyes sharpened. "And—let's go back to the Fear Demon. Why is Hogwarts handling it so differently this time?"
Fudge, without realizing it, was operating through a lens of authority and power, seeing Dumbledore's actions as strategic and calculating. His view was shaped by a wizard who held little power himself, constantly seeking hidden motives, treating everything as part of a larger conspiracy.
He clapped the man from the Department of Mysteries on the shoulder, his tone shifting to one of sage advice. "So, don't try to manage everything. Don't insist on uncovering every detail."
He gave a knowing smile. "When the water runs too deep, sometimes it's best to learn to turn a blind eye."
Fudge's words were meant as a lesson in survival, a reminder that sometimes ignorance is the most effective tool.
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