Amelia Bones' laughter was complicated.
There was a trace of self mockery for her earlier solemn secrecy, but far more of it was directed at the Ministry of Magic and Cornelius Fudge himself.
The Minister had issued strict orders that the information be kept confidential. Yet the very next morning, it appeared splashed across the front page of the Daily Prophet.
Death Eaters Return! Peter Pettigrew Silenced Forever!
She skimmed the article. It offered no detailed account, but the most crucial facts were all there. Two Death Eaters had killed Peter under the protection of Aurors.
That alone was enough to make Fudge jump in fury inside his office.
"My apologies, Mr. Riddle," Bones sighed. "I was at the Ministry all night arranging search teams. I didn't even have time to glance at a newspaper."
"This emergency procurement is because the Aurors and Hit Wizards have personally experienced how practical and necessary your equipment is. They strongly urged the Ministry to purchase more."
"And the protective necklaces?" Tom raised an eyebrow. "That explanation sounds rather polished."
He did not believe for a second that the Ministry would willingly spend such a fortune to equip Aurors with top tier gear.
Bones looked even more embarrassed. "Well… certain individuals are quite frightened. The Ministry will cover part of the cost. The rest will come from their private funds."
"Madam Bones, for your sake, I can agree to sell a batch of protective necklaces. But their craftsmanship is extraordinarily complex. They require large quantities of rare materials, tremendous effort, and the success rate is not high. Naturally, the price will reflect that."
Tom lifted his hand and spread all five fingers.
"Five thousand Galleons each. If they agree, I will release my current stock. If they try to haggle, even one Galleon less, I will not sell."
Bones was visibly startled by the price. Her annual salary, even with allowances, barely reached that amount.
Yet when she considered the necklace's formidable defensive capability, along with the final emergency Apparition mechanism embedded within it… five thousand Galleons was not entirely unreasonable.
"I will convey this to the Minister," she said cautiously. She would not make such decisions on behalf of others. "And the rest of the equipment…"
"Delivery in three days," Tom replied. Conveniently, he was heading to New York in three days as well.
Bones departed, and Tom returned to his workshop to prepare.
He had ample stock of anti curse cloaks and protective necklaces. The Vigilant Eyes, however, were in short supply. In truth, they were somewhat limited in function. Any opponent equipped with counter tracking methods or concealment magic could render them useless.
When Snape had launched his ambush, the Vigilant Eye had only triggered at the exact moment he struck.
Tom had already designed a superior version, of course. But producing it required renegotiating prices, and he could not be bothered. For now, this would suffice.
He had always maintained three tiers simultaneously. One batch in use. One batch in reserve. One batch under research and development. The protective necklaces followed the same principle. Two upgraded versions were nearing completion. That made it the perfect time to sell off the older models.
The next day, Bones returned.
Not only did she bring confirmation, she brought the money in full.
Fifty seven thousand Galleons in total. The Vigilant Eyes and anti curse cloaks accounted for seven thousand.
Money from wealthy patrons was always the easiest to earn.
Tom sighed in satisfaction. It had only been a few days since the holidays began, and he had already earned over a hundred thousand Galleons. At this rate, five million did not seem so unattainable.
Of course, he knew this was merely a one time windfall. Once fulfilled, there would be little follow up. True wealth would have to come from other avenues.
Tom handed over the stock without delay. Bones wasted no time lingering.
The Daily Prophet article, however, had unleashed chaos.
For many witches and wizards, it dredged up memories of those dreadful years.
Anyone wearing a pointed hat was given a wide berth. People returned home cautiously each night, never certain whether the person sleeping beside them might be under the Imperius Curse and ready to cast a flash of green in the dark.
The Dark Mark itself was an unspoken nightmare. Wherever it appeared, wizards within ten kilometers would flee in blind panic.
The fear had never truly disappeared. It had merely been forgotten.
Now Peter Pettigrew's death reminded the public of one undeniable truth.
The Dark Lord's followers had not been eradicated.
The Ministry's owl post office was flooded once more. Citizens enthusiastically reported suspicious individuals, overwhelming Aurors and Hit Wizards alike. They ran themselves ragged, chasing false leads and wasting manpower and resources.
Diagon Alley grew deserted. It was the height of summer, yet Hogwarts students were strictly forbidden by their Head of House from venturing out.
Fudge had no time to continue targeting Barty Crouch. Surviving this crisis was his immediate priority.
The first step was to investigate the most suspicious figures. Lucius Malfoy. Nott. Avery. They had escaped punishment last time, but everyone understood how that had happened.
Rufus Scrimgeour led the operations, summoning these pure blood families repeatedly for stern warnings. Complaints filled the air.
Ordinarily, Fudge would have rushed to appease his financial backers. This time, he did not bother. In fact, he deliberately allowed Scrimgeour to pressure them. Do not stir trouble. Do not endanger his position.
At the same time, Fudge once again invited Dumbledore into the public eye.
Dumbledore agreed readily. He did not wish for Snape's personal vendetta to destabilize the entire wizarding world.
The effect was immediate.
After Dumbledore spent two days in Diagon Alley, the public mood noticeably calmed.
With Dumbledore present, Death Eaters did not seem so terrifying.
Gradually, order began to return across Britain. Fudge felt relief.
And unease.
The old wizard's reputation was simply too immense.
Used properly, Dumbledore could secure Fudge's authority. But what if one day Dumbledore decided he wished to experience life as Minister for Magic?
Would Fudge simply sit and wait for his own displacement?
In the corners unseen by Dumbledore, invisible cracks had already begun to form between him and Cornelius Fudge.