The two sides stood on the Quidditch pitch, staring each other down.
The people from the Ministry of Magic and the pure-blood families glared at the Hogwarts side with naked hostility. Dumbledore's actions had shaken the very foundation of their interests. This was no ordinary grudge, it was the kind of hatred that did not end until one side was crushed.
The Hogwarts group, meanwhile, remained fully on guard, watching the Ministry and the pure-blood families closely in case they tried to strike without warning.
Of everyone present, only three people still looked properly composed: Dumbledore, Harry, and Minister for Magic Fudge.
But unlike Dumbledore and Harry, who had seen far greater things and were not remotely rattled by a scene like this, Fudge was only pretending to be calm.
Cold sweat drenched his forehead, and the shirt under his robes was already soaked through.
This matter had spread across the entire British wizarding world, and even some forces from the American wizarding world had gotten involved. He had been shoved onto the fire by all sides and forced to act as the blade pointed at Dumbledore.
If he made even one wrong move in a situation like this, he could be destroyed without leaving so much as a grave behind. He had no choice but to stay calm and force himself to make the safest decision possible.
Feeling the urgent stares pressing into his back, Fudge bit down slightly, stepped forward, and shouted at Dumbledore, "Dumbledore, Harry Potter, we need to talk. Your remarks are an open insult to the dignity of the pure-blood families and a malicious attempt to tear apart the traditional order of the wizarding world.
"So you must retract everything you said immediately, at once, and issue a public apology to restore order to the wizarding world."
Dumbledore still wore the same gentle smile. Unlike Fudge, he was utterly certain of himself and completely confident in his own power.
When he heard Fudge's rebuke, he took one step forward.
That single step made not just Fudge, but many of the wizards behind him, recoil instinctively.
Only after effortlessly crushing their momentum did Dumbledore say in an even tone, "No, Fudge. In 1692, the International Confederation of Wizards put the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy into effect, hiding the wizarding world from the Muggle one.
"Around the year 990, Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw founded Hogwarts so witches and wizards could receive a proper magical education.
"And now, the wizarding world needs sweeping reform as well, so a world that has stagnated for years can finally move forward."
If Dumbledore had shown even a little excitement at this moment, joy, passion, anything of the sort, Fudge would have relaxed a little. That would have meant Dumbledore might just be acting on impulse, or chasing some personal goal with all this talk of reform.
But Dumbledore's voice was calm, flat, and without the slightest emotional ripple.
That made Fudge even more afraid.
It meant everything happening now had been thought through carefully. This was not the reckless outburst of a senile old man, the possibility they had hoped for.
Looking at the old wizard standing before him with that same kind face, Fudge suddenly felt a chill of fear.
He thought of the Death Eaters who had once swept across the wizarding world, and of the dark figure hidden beneath black robes.
For a moment, that image overlapped with the Dumbledore before him.
No, Dumbledore frightened him even more than You-Know-Who.
At that thought, Fudge shuddered.
He remembered that Dumbledore himself had once been a dangerous man. He had been friends with Grindelwald. He had once dreamed of ruling the wizarding world.
And at this distance, if Dumbledore suddenly decided to make a move, no one here would be able to save him.
So Fudge decided not to keep provoking Dumbledore. Not if it meant putting himself in danger.
Instead, he turned his eyes toward the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter.
Harry Potter had defeated Voldemort twice and was obviously no easy target either, but no matter what, he had to be easier to handle than Dumbledore.
So Fudge fixed Harry with a harsh glare and said sternly, "Mr. Potter, do not let yourself be influenced by Dumbledore. He is old, his mind is no longer clear, and he has done the wrong thing. You are still young and easily led astray, but you can still correct yourself.
"So let us clear this up in public and put an end to the damage this incident has caused."
Even as he lectured Harry in that chastising tone, Fudge kept sneaking glances at Dumbledore from the corner of his eye.
When he saw that Dumbledore had no intention of stopping him and even seemed faintly amused, Fudge let out a small breath of relief and made his tone even harsher.
But what he had not expected was that Harry showed no fear of him at all, even though he was the Minister for Magic.
And the moment Fudge met Harry's green eyes, he froze.
Harry was smiling at him, the corner of his mouth slightly raised.
Fudge knew that look very well. It was the same look he used when he watched monkeys perform at the circus.
No, something was wrong with this Harry Potter. Even Professor McGonagall would show a trace of tension in front of the Minister for Magic.
After all, the Minister was the peak of political power in magical Britain. Aside from figures like Dumbledore, wizards standing at the very top of the wizarding world's pyramid who simply did not care about that sort of authority, everyone else was affected by it.
So why was Harry untouched by the power of the office? Why was he looking down at him as if he were watching some animal act?
After a brief moment of shock, a nameless fury rose in Fudge's chest.
It became an inferno in an instant, nearly swallowing him whole.
A man's tolerance was always different depending on who stood in front of him. Fudge feared Dumbledore, so he did not dare show anger.
But Harry Potter?
What was Harry Potter, really?
The Boy Who Lived?
Just a title.
If people chose to give him face, then he was the Boy Who Lived. If they did not, then he was only an underage wizard with a few notable accomplishments.
Fudge's face twisted at once, and in the harshest tone he had used yet, he barked, "Harry Potter, mind your attitude!
"The glory of the pure-blood families is not to be questioned. We will never allow Muggle-borns and inferiors to overturn the current class structure.
"This is your warning, shut your mouth immediately, or the Ministry of Magic and the pure-blood families will use every resource at our disposal to make you pay dearly for your arrogance.
"Your family, and everything you treasure, will be reduced to ashes in our fury."
Because Harry was the one being targeted, the others no longer stood by in silence the way they had when Fudge was confronting Dumbledore. Several members of the pure-blood families stepped forward as well, glaring furiously at Harry.
Barty Crouch was one of them. He did not dare speak disrespectfully to Dumbledore, but he had no hesitation in aiming his malice at Harry Potter, a mere student wizard.
"Harry Potter, do you even know what you're doing? You are disrupting the order of the wizarding world and undermining the stability we have maintained for so long."
When he saw Harry look at him, Barty Crouch lifted his chin and said arrogantly, "You are far too naive, Potter. The current order was shaped over countless years. It exists for a reason.
"The pure-blood families, their ancestors made enormous contributions to the development of the wizarding world. Their standing is earned.
"And Muggle-born wizards, their magical talent has always varied wildly. They are fundamentally different from pure-blood wizards. That is an unchangeable fact.
"So put an end to your dangerous ideas and stop these reckless words and actions at once.
"Otherwise, the Ministry will not stand by and do nothing, and the pure-blood families certainly will not spare you.
"If you insist on going your own way, what awaits you will be the frozen cells of Azkaban and the contempt of the entire wizarding world."
With two high-ranking wizards taking the lead, the other pure-blood family wizards began condemning Harry as well.
Under the subtle direction of some Ministry officials, even the Dementors began drifting closer to Harry and the others.
The temperature on the Quidditch pitch dropped to freezing. In the shrieking wind, frost spread instantly across Harry's Gryffindor robes.
Dozens of Dementors descended slowly from the rolling clouds, the hollow darkness beneath their black robes gleaming with a ghostly green light, as if they meant to swallow every trace of brightness in the world.
Surrounded by so many Dementors, even Professor Lupin's face changed slightly. This many Dementors were more than enough to pose a deadly threat.
Worried for Harry, Lupin called out anxiously, "Harry, get back here, now. Stay together with us."
Lupin knew Harry had destroyed a Dementor before, but he had no idea whether Harry could drive off dozens of them at once.
As far as the current wizarding world understood, the best way to repel Dementors was still the Patronus Charm.
And Lupin had never seen Harry cast it, which probably meant Harry had not mastered it yet.
But in the face of Lupin's worried shout, Harry only turned and smiled. Not only did he not go back, he actually kept walking slowly toward the pure-blood families.
Lupin tried to stop him, only to be blocked by a withered old arm.
That arm looked thin and frail, yet it held astonishing strength. With Lupin's strength, he could not move it even a fraction.
After stopping Lupin, Dumbledore said with a smile, "Professor Lupin, don't worry. Harry is not afraid of threats like these.
"If anything, rather than worry about Harry, we should worry about those people. Harry hates it when someone threatens his family. Some people are going to have a very bad night tonight."
Professor Lupin was completely dumbfounded.
Dumbledore, did you hear yourself just now?
Did he truly believe Harry alone could defeat dozens of Dementors and so many exceptionally capable adult wizards?
But when Lupin met Dumbledore's deep gaze, he was stunned to realize that Dumbledore was serious.
Dumbledore lowered his arm and looked ahead, the smile on his face growing more obvious.
"Watch closely, Professor Lupin. Watch how far the new generation of young wizards has already grown."
Harry casually swept his eyes over the Dementors around him, then looked at Fudge and asked, "Minister Fudge, are you really going to use these Dark creatures against an underage wizard?"
Fudge's expression stiffened, but his face was thick enough to hold. Wearing a righteous expression, he said, "No, Harry Potter. You are now a criminal, and criminals do not get special treatment because of their age."
Harry spread his hands helplessly.
"All right, then..."
Fudge and the many pure-blood family wizards lit up with delight.
"Hahaha, Harry Potter, have you finally realized your mistake and decided to correct it? If you turn back now, we may still forgive the sins you've committed!"
"No."
Harry's eyes turned razor sharp in an instant as he let out a mocking laugh.
"I just feel sorry for you. Dozens of valuable assets are about to vanish into nothing."
Fudge and the others were completely bewildered.
Under their confused stares, Harry straightened his back. His wand spun smoothly in his palm as moonlight flowed along the silver grain in the wood and gathered at his fingertips into a pulsing core of light.
"There are no Dementors here."
His voice sounded like something peeled from an ancient incantation, and every syllable carried undeniable power. The instant the last sound fell, a blinding scarlet radiance erupted from the tip of his wand.
Dozens of Dementors let out piercing shrieks. The hollow forms beneath their black robes began to convulse violently. Their movements slowed, and the things hidden under the robes started twisting out of shape.
The dreadful black mist around them scattered like gauze in a storm, dissolving rapidly beneath the scarlet glow of Harry's magic.
The Dementors flailed their rotting arms, trying to cling to the last scraps of their existence, but in the face of the absolute power of chaos magic, all struggle was meaningless.
Their bodies began breaking apart inch by inch. First the black robes disintegrated into dust, then their decaying forms evaporated under the blazing light, leaving behind only wisps of smoke.
A scorched stench spread through the air. As the Dementors' final screams faded, every trace of darkness and fear was completely purged.
When the last shred of black mist vanished, the only things left on the Quidditch pitch were Harry's wand, still faintly gleaming with scarlet light, and the stunned faces of Fudge, the Aurors, and the Hogwarts professors.
Only then did Harry lower his hand. The crimson light faded little by little, as if that world-shaking power had never appeared at all.
The Dementors that had once inspired terror vanished completely in only a few seconds. Aside from a few drifting black flecks falling from the air, there was no sign they had ever existed.
Well, except for the thin layer of frost still lingering over the Quidditch pitch.
Minister for Magic Fudge stood frozen in the middle of the field, watching the Dementors be blown out of existence by Harry's magic. His face went pale, then red, then pale again. His lips trembled, and whatever he wanted to say lodged in his throat under the weight of pure shock.
His hands clenched unconsciously around his robes. Beads of sweat broke out across his forehead, only to go cold in the freezing wind.
"This... this is impossible!" he finally forced out, his voice full of terror and disbelief. "What kind of magic is that? How could it destroy dozens of Dementors all at once?"
His voice was shaking. The haughty force he had worn moments ago had been completely shattered by the power Harry had just displayed.
And honestly, no one could blame Fudge.
Anyone faced with magic like that would have reacted the same way.
It was too powerful, far beyond even the ancient magic recorded in history.
There was no doubt that if Harry had aimed that spell at them instead, most of them would have been reduced to nothing at all.
The pure-blood family wizards stood in the distance, led by Mr. Malfoy, their expressions dark enough to drip.
Mr. Malfoy gripped his wand so tightly that his knuckles went white. After witnessing Harry's true strength, he immediately decided to change sides without hesitation.
He would throw his lot in with Harry and betray the pure-blood families.
Even if the Malfoy family declined after Harry's reforms, that would still be better than being wiped out completely.
Besides, a new age brought new opportunities. The Malfoy family might not only survive, it might rise again.
The other pure-blood family wizards, however, were not nearly as quick to read the situation as old Lucius Malfoy...
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