Hogwarts: Don't call me the Staff Maker

Chapter 737 The Ministry of Magic's Full Support

Recently, the Death Eaters have become increasingly unscrupulous.

And those Dementors who had allied with Voldemort just floated around in the air so openly, practically treating London like their buffet restaurant.

The Muggle police station's phones have been ringing off the hook, and the letters on the Auror's desk at the Ministry of Magic have piled up to the ceiling.

Fudge was going crazy. He had just dealt with an angry Muggle prime minister when he looked up to see a roaring letter delivered to his desk.

"Oh, damn it! I've told you so many times, don't let this stuff ever appear in my office again—Dolores—"

Fudge paused, suddenly remembering that Dolores Umbridge had been expelled from the Ministry of Magic along with him for inappropriate words and actions.

However, Umbridge was not reinstated to his original position along with him.

That's so enviable!

Fudge sighed, skillfully opened the window, and casually tossed the smoking red envelope on the table outside.

Judging from his proficiency in the movements, he must have done the same thing many times before.

At times like this, Fudge would subconsciously think of that useful senior deputy minister. At least when Umbridge was here, he never had to deal with the headaches of dealing with Roaring Letters.

"When will those people finally realize that not all Aurors possess the Guardian Charm? It's not even part of the Auror assessment!"

An explosion came from outside the window, followed by a witch's shrill, angry shout. Amplified by the Howling Message, the sound was as loud as thunder, and most of the Ministry of Magic could hear it clearly.

Fudge slammed the window shut and drew the thick curtains, trying to block the noise out of the office.

Just then, someone knocked on the door of the minister's office, and Kingsley Shackle, the Auror's chief of staff, walked in from outside.

"Good morning, Minister," he said. "I think we need some sunlight while working; it's far too dark here—or do you prefer candlelight?"

"If you could deal with those damn howling letters, this place would be much brighter than it is now!" Fudge said irritably.

"I'm sorry, Minister, the Aurors are already busy enough. We can't just arrest people everywhere over such a small matter—besides, people need to vent."

So he has to put up with it, right? Tortured by yelling letters every day, forced to keep his office windows closed—and he's the Minister of Magic!

Fudge was so angry that his eyes turned red.

In fact, his position as Minister of Magic is now merely a nominal one, or rather—a target placed in front of those who are fighting against the Death Eaters.

Moreover, for some well-known reasons, even though he holds the position of Minister, very few people in the Ministry of Magic are willing to listen to him now—Kingsley Shackleton is one of them.

He was more like an intermediary between the Ministry of Magic and the Order of the Phoenix, while Fudge, the Minister, was a handy tool.

This is not what Fudge wanted at all!

In fact, Fudge had considered running away, and he did so after first hearing the news of Dumbledore's death.

However, Fudge soon discovered that things were not so simple.

With Dumbledore no longer a threat, the Death Eaters were completely unrestrained. They only knew that killing the Minister of Magic was a great achievement, and they didn't care about anything else.

So after escaping death twice, Fudge returned to the Ministry of Magic as if nothing had happened—at least he was safer here with Aurors and Strikers protecting him than when he was out there alone.

Damn Dumbledore—if it weren't for him, I'd be on vacation on a French beach right now!

Fudge cursed inwardly, but outwardly maintained a calm demeanor as Kingsley Shackleton walked in.

"Of course, Kingsley, you're right—so, what brings you here?"

"It's the same thing we discussed last time, Minister." Kingsley's gaze lingered on Fudge's flushed face.

"Regarding what we discussed last time—sorry, I've been too busy lately, could you be more specific?"

"Regarding the route and arrangements for transferring Harry Potter," Kingsley said.

"Yes, yes, Harry Potter," Fudge exclaimed.

“No problem,” he said immediately. “This is the most important thing right now. The Ministry of Magic will fully support all your decisions. On the day of the operation, I will send all the Aurors and strikers with us—wait, where does Harry Potter live again—”

"Oh right, Privet Drive, Little Wheeking District!" Fudge suddenly remembered that a few years ago, Harry Potter had violated the Minor Wizarding Act by using magic during a holiday, and the location was in Little Wheeking District.

"I will send all the Aurors and strikers to Little Wheegham to help Harry Potter!" Fudge said firmly.

"No need for such a fuss, Minister," Kingsley waved his hand.

"Aurors and strikers are unnecessary; too many people would only make us more exposed. If possible, we need your support along the route."

He took out a piece of parchment that he had prepared beforehand, laid it flat on the table, and carefully tapped it three times with his wand.

The ink marks began to spread across the parchment, quickly forming a detailed map.

This is a map of the area around Privet Road. Every building in the vicinity, from large buildings and shops to small mailboxes and telephone booths, is clearly visible. Among these buildings, a golden arrow is very prominent.

The arrow marks a route that spans seven different streets, with more than a dozen different red dots on it.

“These are all fireplaces—” Kingsley pointed to the dots, “I need to connect them all to the Floo Network when necessary.”

"No problem." Fudge agreed immediately without any hesitation.

"We also need the authority to create Portkeys at any time—and not be controlled or tracked by the Ministry of Magic," Kingsley continued.

Fudge's lips twitched slightly.

Not under the control of the Ministry of Magic — If someone had dared to say such a thing a year ago, Fudge would have definitely sent Aurors and Dementors to teach them a lesson.

But now—

"No problem!" he agreed again.

After all, with Dumbledore dead, Harry Potter was the only hope to defeat Voldemort. As long as it was related to Harry Potter, he would agree to even the most outrageous requests.

"Thank you, Minister. I wish you could always be this understanding," Kingsley said, his tone tinged with sarcasm.

"Don't say that, Kingsley. I already know I was wrong," Fudge said, somewhat irritated. "Who could have imagined that the Mystic could come back to life? I bet you didn't believe it until you saw him with your own eyes, did you?"

"You're right," Kingsley said calmly, "but I will always trust Dumbledore."

Fudge's face turned red again.