A Certain Magical Hogwarts

Chapter 107 Umbridge's Road to Power

"Ah, Lucius's here!" Fudge exclaimed with delight after introducing everyone.

William turned his head and saw Lucius Malfoy and his simple-minded son Draco.

Lucius was carrying a wand, but the diamond ring was gone. It seemed that after being fleeced by the Ministry of Magic recently, he didn't dare to flaunt his wealth so ostentatiously anymore.

"Ah, Cornelius," Malfoy said, extending his hand as he walked past the Minister of Magic. "Hello, I don't think you've met my son Draco yet."

"Hello," Fudge glanced at Draco and said, "Come, let me introduce you to the recipients of the Order of Merlin."

Malfoy smiled and nodded, clearly not wanting to miss this opportunity to expand his network; otherwise, there would be no need for him to attend the banquet.

As he was listening to Fudge's introduction, he suddenly saw Mr. Weasley. He was startled, his smile vanished, and he abandoned the minister to gaze deeply into Weasley's eyes.

The two stared at each other for a full twenty seconds, neither willing to be the first to look away.

Malfoy glanced at his wand out of the corner of his eye, making sure his diamond ring wasn't there. With that, he had no more worries and could fully unleash the fighting skills he had recently trained for.

Mr. Weasley was not to be outdone; he loosened his collar, seemingly ready to take off his new robes at any moment and get down to business.

But no one took the initiative to make a move. The Minister of Magic was still there, and the one who made the first move would be in the wrong.

Their eyes were all flashing the same message: Come here, come here!

"No, no, don't do this!" Fudge stepped between the two, speaking in a low but stern voice, "It'll make us a laughingstock among the other Ministers of Magic!"

The two men snorted coldly and took half a step back.

"Arthur, don't argue with Lucius anymore. He donated a building to the Ministry of Magic before Christmas; he was a VIP guest I invited."

Fudge patted Mr. Weasley on the shoulder, clearly not wanting to embarrass Malfoy, the golden pig father, too much.

"Of course." Mr. Weasley smiled. "I'm very grateful for Mr. Malfoy's donation; he certainly doesn't want to spend a few days in Azkaban."

Malfoy's expression turned ugly. Being fleeced by the Ministry of Magic was clearly not something to be happy about, even though he was very rich!

"Good heavens, Arthur," he said sarcastically in an exaggerated tone, "donating a building to the Ministry of Magic is something I'm willing to do, but I'm very curious, what exactly did you sell to get an invitation to the Merlin Medal award ceremony?"

Did you sell the house?

But that dilapidated house isn't worth that much money, right?

"Mr. Weasley doesn't need to sell his house, much less donate it; he's a guest I invited."

William, who had remained silent until now, answered with a faint smile.

"A recipient of the Order of Merlin can invite fourteen people. Mr. Malfoy has never received the medal, so he probably doesn't know."

Mr. Malfoy's gaze swept over William, his eyes cold, clearly recognizing the boy who had recently gained notoriety.

William met his gaze without flinching.

Draco's hands trembled involuntarily; seeing the boy brought back unpleasant memories.

He licked his dry lips, took a few steps back, and thought, "What a nightmare... I've never eaten ice cream since then."

Lucius glanced at William, then at his parents and Hermione's parents, who were all undoubtedly Muggles.

William's wand slid through his hand. If Lucius dared to utter any insulting words, he would teach him a lesson in public without holding back.

Under the watchful eye of the Minister of Magic, Malfoy didn't say anything out of line. He gave Weasley a mocking snort, then turned and pulled Decolas toward their seats.

"Relax, kid," Fudge laughed. "I think Lucius will now know that he can invite fourteen people to the medal."

"I wonder who you will invite when you receive the Order of Merlin, Minister?" a short, stout woman to Fudge's left suddenly asked.

The woman had a broad, sagging face, and her short, curly hair was adorned with a small black velvet bow. Her voice was high-pitched, sounding like a young girl's.

"What?" Fudge seemed not to have heard clearly. He looked at the woman. "What did you just say?"

"I'm telling you, Minister, you'll definitely get a Merlin Medal in the next few years," the woman said in a sickeningly sweet voice.

Fudge was taken aback, as if he were seeing this woman for the first time.

"Excuse me, you are...?"

"Dolores Umbridge, Minister." Umbridge's face was plastered with a fawning smile.

"Oh, I remember now, last year you asked me to promote some books, I remember! I transferred you to the Auror office..."

Umbridge's smile was somewhat stiff. Clearly, her strength did not meet the selection criteria for Aurors. She had only wanted to go in to gain some prestige, but this privileged appointment put her in a rather unfavorable situation.

After all, Rufus Scrimgeour, the Auror's Chief of Staff, was not an easy boss to talk to.

"You just said I'd get the Order of Merlin?" Fudge asked with interest. "Why did you say that?"

Umbridge, displaying a shy, girlish demeanor, complimented, "Under your leadership, Minister, the Ministry of Magic is thriving. You captured that damned Death Eater Tywin, and invented the Wolfsbane Potion... You deserve a medal for your contributions."

I think the Order of Merlin, First Class, would be very suitable.

Umbridge's eyes flashed with just the right amount of admiration.

Fudge clearly still had some integrity, and he quickly waved his hand, saying, "No, I can't... Albus only received a First Class Medal after defeating Grindelwald in 1945... I'm far from that level."

William gave Umbridge a meaningful look. It seemed this guy was about to get promoted; not only could he help the minister make money, but he also spoke so nicely.

Sure enough, Fudge thought for a moment and said, "Umbridge? I'll remember you. I'll check your evaluation form when we get back. If you're not suitable for the Auror, I'll transfer you."

"Thank you, Minister." Umbridge's voice became even gentler.

Just then, members of the Wizengamo arrived.

They sat down in the chairs, and there were about fifty people in sight, all wearing crimson robes with an exquisite silver "W" embroidered on their left breast.

Dumbledore strode over, wearing a long black and blue robe, with an extremely happy expression on his face.

He walked to the front of the stage, raised his head, and looked at the crowd through the crescent-shaped glasses perched on his hooked nose. His long, silver-white beard and hair gleamed in the torchlight.

Dumbledore's attire was so magnificent, and he wore enormous gems on his hands, enough to encircle his four fingers in a grand chain, radiating a dazzling light that would have made Thanos ashamed enough to remove his gauntlet.

The members of Wisengamo were whispering among themselves.

All eyes were on Dumbledore, and two elderly witches sitting in the back row stood up and waved, seemingly his loyal fans.

The noise in the hall subsided, and the medals were finally about to be awarded.

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(End of this chapter)