Hogwarts' Golden Glory

Kane took a crystal bottle from his dragon-skin pouch; the transparent crystal suspended inside refracted a rainbow of colors in the candlelight.

"Moonstone powder that has been distilled three times. Adding this helps stabilize the potion because a silver stirring rod is necessary."

"Using Norwegian spinyback acid as a solvent, it is finally solidified—absolutely inert."

Snape snatched the bottle, his black robes billowing with potion steam.

"A Norwegian Spinosaurus?" His voice suddenly rose, a look of shock flashing in his eyes. "You didn't kill a dragon, did you?!"

"It was just a small deal with Charlie Weasley," Kane said with a Slytherin-esque smile.

Snape's lips twitched as he placed the bottle on his scales.

The crystal bottle automatically levitated, displaying a silver rune indicating "99.99% purity".

It even made the potions master gasp in surprise.

Snape continued, looking at Kane, "Your moonstone powder will solve the first problem. But there's still..."

After they finished speaking, the two engaged in a heated discussion.

Completely immersed in the complex world of potion theory.

In the oak study of Longbottom Estate, the fireplace crackled.

Augusta Longbottom sat in a high-backed chair, tapping his fingertips on the armrest.

"Blake's case can't be delayed any longer, and you've already promised the child." Her voice was like sandpaper scraping.

Algi Longbottom took a big gulp of Flaming Whisky and slammed his glass down: "That old fox Fudge, he's taken bribes from the Yaxley family and now he's trying to play dumb."

Although Frank and Longbottom have regained their senses.

However, he was still somewhat weak, so he remained in the hospital to rest.

Augusta slammed her cane down heavily: "Let's see if Fudge can eat that much!"

The Minister of Magic's office.

The chaos here suggests that an argument has taken place.

"Your Excellency, I hope you will think this through carefully!"

Lucius left the office with that threat.

Fudge's bald head was already beaded with cold sweat.

His fingers were still tightly gripping a Gringotts key.

That was a "donation" from Yaxley, and the contents of it had greatly impressed even the minister.

Fudge is now in a dilemma.

"Minister!" A Ministry of Magic official rushed into the office in a panic, forgetting to knock.

"Rita Skeeter of The Daily Prophet is in the lobby, requesting an interview with you on the topic of 'Justice and the Light of Humanity'!"

Fudge's teacup suddenly shattered.

He knew the woman's trick—she was praising him as a "reform pioneer" and forcing him to publicly promise a retrial.

What infuriated Fudge the most was that Rita, who was always driven by profit, actually refused his hush money this time.

This reporter, known for sensationalizing news, surprisingly refused the exclusive inside information he offered.

"Just say I'm in a meeting!" Fudge waved his hand impatiently.

Of course, Fudge couldn't go out.

As Fudge slumped in his chair, pondering how to please both sides...

He originally planned to gain both a reputation for reform and political donations from the Malfoy family.

But the reality is that the prices offered by pure-blood families like Yaxley are far too tempting.

Galleons, antique collections, and even a wizard's villa in the south of France.

These tangible benefits forced him to choose to delay Blake's trial.

It's not that I don't get along with my buddies, it's just that they give me so much!

Just then, a letter arrived on his desk.

Fudge curiously opened the envelope, his face turning as red as a plump, soaked mushroom.

Then the parchment was crumpled into a ball in his palm!

He even tried to remove the Wessengamo seal from the top.

"They—how dare they—" His voice was forced out through clenched teeth, each word sounding like it was being forcibly ripped out, "bypass me?!"

He stood up abruptly, his obese body causing the office chair to slide backward.

It slammed against the bookshelf with a "bang," causing several heavy copies of "The Amended Magic Laws" to fall to the ground.

Fudge didn't even glance at him; his small eyes burned with flames of anger and terror.

"I am the Minister of Magic!" he roared, spitting as he spoke onto the documents on the table.

"Without my signature, why is Wisengagamo holding a trial on its own?!"

He grabbed the brass bell on the table and shook it wildly, the shrill sound shattering the silence of the entire floor.

"Umbridge! Umbridge! Get your ass in here right now!"

When the pink figure rushed into the office in a panic.

Fudge was pacing back and forth in the room like a trapped beast.

The ink bottle he swept over spread across the expensive carpet, resembling a spreading ominous sign.

"Minister?" Umbridge's voice trembled slightly.

"Contact Dumbledore immediately! No, contact the Daily Prophet first! I need to issue a statement—"

Fudge's voice suddenly stopped because he saw that Umbridge was holding another document.

It was a "Summoning Order of the Special Tribunal" covered in stamps! At the very bottom were the joint signatures of Dumbledore, Longbottom, and seven other Wizengamor elders.

Even more terrifying, an excerpt from Article 119 of the "Charter of Magic" was attached to the back of the document:

"When a minister is clearly guilty of misconduct, Wisengamo may temporarily take over certain judicial proceedings with the consent of two-thirds of its members."

Fudge's legs suddenly went weak, and he slumped back into his chair.

His fingers unconsciously rubbed the vault key hanging around his neck.

Just a few days ago, the Yaxley family transferred a "political investment" to him through this key.

But now, the key has suddenly become too hot to handle.

"They can't do this..."

He murmured weakly, "I was chosen by everyone... I am the true leader of the magical world..."

A sudden gust of wind blew open the office window, and several copies of the Daily Prophet flew in.

The headline on the front page of the latest issue stung his eyes:

Wissengamo initiates emergency procedures: Black case to go to trial within three days

There's even a subtitle: Multiple witnesses are in place, including the "resurrected" Peter Pettigrew!

Fudge's lips began to tremble.

He recalled Lucius Malfoy's meaningful words during the argument: "Connelly, sometimes taking the wrong side... can be very costly."

Now, he finally understood the true meaning of those words.

"Minister?" Umbridge asked cautiously, "Should we prepare a response statement?"

Fudge slammed his fat hand on the table, making the ink bottle jump: "Prepare my robe! I'm going to the trial in person!"

A final, desperate struggle flickered in his eyes. "Since they want to play... then let everyone see who the true masters of the Ministry of Magic are!"