Hogwarts: I'm Harry's older cousin

Chapter 248, Question 246: Minister Fouché, what's your opinion?

A news story made the front page of the Daily Prophet—Peter Pettigrew has escaped from prison.

In less than half a day, the newspapers were sold out.

The wizards' doubts about Azkaban's defensive capabilities reached their peak.

Meanwhile, the Ministry of Magic, which had just regained some prestige due to the Sirius Black case, once again became the target of public criticism.

The Minister of Magic's room was once again filled with roaring complaint letters.

"Damn it! What are you bunch of useless idiots doing?! How could such a big, living person, without even a wand, still get away?" Fudge roared furiously in his office, his angry shouts audible even downstairs. The Ministry of Magic official in charge of Azkaban standing in front of him trembled with fear at Fudge's appearance.

As it turns out, Fudge was truly a hopeless case. No, he was even worse than mud.

Even though Sirius had just escaped from Azkaban right under the Dementors' noses not long ago, he still had his men dump Peter in Azkaban and hand him over to the Dementors.

He devoted all his energy to the show, producing seven or eight installments of the "Bright and Powerful Minister of Magic Fudge's Personal Biography".

Personal desires were satisfied.

But now that Peter has escaped, everything is back to square one.

"Quickly, take me to Mr. Dursley!"

After venting his anger, Fudge waved for his incompetent subordinates to leave, then shouted to his new secretary, whose previous secretary had been dismissed for being too stupid (stepping into the office with his left foot first), and whose new secretary was clearly much smarter.

Within two minutes of Fudge giving the order, Dudley's location was immediately located, and Fudge's itinerary was arranged.

He was accompanying Fudge on his journey.

In the past, Fudge might have consulted Dumbledore or other pure-blood wizards for advice.

Now there's this Dumbledore thing, this pure-blood wizard thing.

He now only trusts Dursley!

Only Mr. Dursley could save him in this situation.

When Fudge and his men rushed to No. 4 Privet Drive, Dudley was enjoying a rare holiday with his family, having a BBQ in his garden.

"Mr. Dursley."

Fudge kept wiping the sweat from his forehead and anxiously shouted to Dudley.

Dudley gestured to Harry and Hermione with his eyes, then walked over to Fudge.

In a daze, Fudge thought he saw Snape in the crowd, but he didn't have time to think about it. He just wanted to find a solution from Dudley.

"It's about Peter, isn't it, Mr. Fudge?"

Peter's prison break caused a huge stir, so much so that almost all wizards knew about it.

Dudley spoke slowly and deliberately, then snapped his fingers lightly, and a seat made of woven rattan rose up behind Fudge.

"Sit down and talk it out slowly, try this."

He then handed Fudge a classic glass filled with eight-tenths full of ice, with about half of it filled with a brown liquid.

"Cough cough."

Fudge thought it was some kind of beverage and took a big gulp, only to be choked and cough repeatedly.

Compared to the popular Butterbeer in the Wizarding World, this drink is significantly stronger.

Dali shook his head slightly, picked up a glass of the same style, took a small sip, and felt the rich aroma of Scotch whisky linger between his lips and teeth.

"I don't want my family to be disturbed, Mr. Minister."

"The Ministry of Magic has been making some rather big moves lately."

Dudley's words were loaded with meaning and had a hidden agenda.

The seemingly irrelevant words sent a chill down Fudge's spine.

Did he find out?

After seeing Dudley's eyes, he was certain of it; he definitely knew.

"Don't worry, those are just Squibs. They won't cause you or your family any trouble. We're doing this for better protection, Harry, aren't we? Harry Potter is an important savior."

Many residents near Privet Road have moved away one after another, while at the same time, many duds have been placed here.

You could say that, apart from the Grangers and the Dursleys, all the other residents on the street were duds.

These were all arranged by the Ministry of Magic, or more precisely, by Fudge.

This is actually quite understandable. It is precisely because Fudge trusts Dudley that he wants to completely control him.

"Thank you for your trouble."

Dali simply nodded, not dwelling on the issue too much.

"Minister Fouché, this might not be such a bad thing after all."

Fudge was taken aback by Dudley's words and looked at him suspiciously.

Peter's escape is a good thing? You must be kidding me.

I didn't have much formal education, but I still graduated from Hogwarts in all the proper respect.

Dudley wasn't surprised by Fudge's expression, and continued, "Think about it, you're the Minister of Magic."

"Your time is very valuable, and you can't do everything yourself. Things like detaining the criminal Peter should be the responsibility of other officials."

Fudge's head nods like a chick pecking at rice.

Makes sense.

As the Minister of Magic, I have no time to concern myself with such trivial matters.

"So this isn't your problem, it's their incompetence. You must understand that."

In other words, it's about shifting the blame, or to put it more bluntly, finding someone to take the fall.

Of course, simply shifting the blame is not enough.

"You should also take the initiative to apologize to the wizards."

He shifted the blame, bowed and apologized, put on a show, and cultivated a persona of being responsible.

"Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful!"

After listening to Dali's detailed explanation, Fudge repeatedly expressed his approval.

Why couldn't he think of that himself?

Dudley resolved his biggest crisis with just a few words, and Fudge's opinion of Dudley rose even higher.

Such outstanding talents must be firmly held in my hands.

Dali's plan didn't end there, he continued.

"Minister Fudge, if I remember correctly, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement is responsible for Azkaban's work, right?"

"Yes." Fudge nodded.

"As a former Minister of Magic, Mr. Barty Crouch Sr. and you have always had a terrible relationship. I remember he was a strong contender for the position when you became Minister of Magic."

"That's right."

Fudge continued nodding, then paused for a moment before tentatively asking, "You mean..."

"I believe Peter is largely to blame for escaping from Azkaban."

"And if I remember correctly, his son, Barty Crouch Jr., is a Death Eater."

"That's right."

"If someone can raise a Death Eater's son, then his own thinking must be problematic."

Dudley flashed two rows of white teeth, as white as hydraulic presses, and looked at Fudge, saying leisurely, "Don't you think some of the high-ranking officials in the Ministry of Magic have been in office for far too long? Even longer than you, the wise and mighty Minister of Magic."

"This is not good, it's very bad. If they outwardly comply but inwardly defy you, even your orders cannot be effectively relayed from top to bottom."

Dudley's words stirred up many unpleasant memories for Fudge. On the surface, he was the Minister for Magic, the man at the pinnacle of power in all of England.

In reality, many officials in the Ministry of Magic were two-faced, saying one thing to his face and another behind his back.

"Minister Fook-gi, what's your opinion?"

"Mr. Dursley, I think you're right!"

(End of this chapter)