The arrival of Cornelius Fudge went largely unnoticed. If anything, the Quidditch players on the pitch were far more captivating than the Minister himself. The Wizarding Minister was simply too distant a figure for them to care about.
But that didn't include Dumbledore, seated in the commentary booth.
In fact, the moment the Minister of Magic entered the stadium with his Head of the Auror Office, Professor McGonagall approached Dumbledore and informed him of the arrival. In other words, Dumbledore was aware of the visitor.
Yet no one could discern the wizard's gaze behind those gleaming half-moon spectacles, nor could they tell what he thought of the Minister's sudden visit. Was it rejection or welcome?
Though his expression revealed nothing, the magical fluctuation in that instant was noticed by Draco, who had just hit the ball into the hoop.
"What happened?"
He glanced toward Dumbledore's commentary booth, but before Draco could look further, his attention was swiftly drawn away by another incoming Bludger.
Then came Lee Jordan's astonished exclamation.
"He dodged it again! How many times is this? The Hufflepuff beater can't even trouble Draco! Honestly, they'd be better off protecting Cedric instead—at least he wouldn't be suffering so much."
Though they knew Draco was the formidable wall they needed to overcome, his fluid and graceful play still left even the opposing young wizards spellbound. Each time he narrowly dodged a Bludger, the crowd's hearts seemed to rise and fall with him. Every move, every attack, made it impossible to look away.
It was almost unbelievable that Draco alone could command the entire stadium's attention. The other players seemed like mere supporting cast, their presence dimmed by his brilliance.
The worsening situation, compounded by Goyle and Crabbe's frequent bursts of aggression, left Cedric increasingly frustrated. His shoves and charges grew rougher, and if not for the last shred of self-control he held onto, he might have slammed into Pansy himself.
Unfortunately for him, the two hulking figures—Goyle and Crabbe—weren't intimidated by such reckless tactics. If anything, this was exactly the kind of play they enjoyed. They blocked every opportunity Cedric had to ram into Pansy.
To anyone watching, it was clear: Cedric had fallen into the quagmire of their relentless interference.
If things continued like this, Hufflepuff's chances of victory were looking grim.
It hadn't been like this before. Had they been hiding their true strength?
'Damn it! If that's the case, doesn't that make me the fool!'
The memory of how he'd gone out of his way to taunt Draco before the match now burned with regret. The thought of it filled Cedric with a growing frustration.
Maybe he wasn't as impressive as he'd believed. Maybe he had simply underestimated Draco's dominance on the field...
...
Cedric's impatience did little to disrupt Draco's flawless performance, but Dumbledore's calm indifference was enough to make Cornelius Fudge, who had been waiting to speak with him, finally lose his composure.
Noticing that Dumbledore hadn't stood up, Fudge rose from his temporary seat and led the Aurors toward the commentary booth. Seeing this, Dumbledore adjusted his glasses slightly, the half-moon lenses catching the light as they glinted faintly toward Fudge.
"I think we need to talk, Albus."
The noise of the crowd forced Fudge to raise his voice, giving his tone an edge of impatience.
Unfazed by the Minister's attitude, Dumbledore offered a calm smile to him and the Aurors standing behind.
It was worth noting that while this smile often brought comfort to students, it had quite the opposite effect on the Aurors—it only made their movements stiffer and their expressions tense. To anyone who didn't know better, it might have looked as if they were facing a group of Death Eaters instead of the Hogwarts headmaster.
"My friend, you should sit down and enjoy the wonderful performance of these children. It's still early, isn't it?"
"Well... you're right, but—"
"And another thing," Dumbledore continued mildly. "Next time you decide to visit, I'd appreciate a bit of notice. Also, I don't have any prisoners here for your Aurors to arrest. Or have they taken on babysitting duties now?"
Fudge's face stiffened.
The tall Head of the Auror Office flushed red, his hand tightening around his wand as if he might draw it. But Dumbledore's calm, glacial gaze froze him in place before he could move.
It was Fudge, subtly accused of cowardice, who hastily stepped forward with an awkward smile to defuse the moment.
"Now, now, calm down! You know, Dumbledore, it's just that—"
"No buts, Fudge," Dumbledore interrupted softly. "As long as I am here, no Death Eater can hide under my watch."
"Of course, of course, I trust you completely, my dear friend Albus."
For someone who stood among the most powerful figures in Britain's wizarding world, Cornelius Fudge looked anything but dignified before Dumbledore. The constant wiping of his brow and the strained smile on his face were a far cry from the arrogant confidence he had displayed just moments earlier.
Perhaps realizing that it was still a public occasion and appearances had to be kept, Dumbledore finally eased his gaze and spoke more gently.
"So then, what's the reason for this unexpected visit? Don't tell me you've come to hand me my Christmas present in person. Surely you know I've been hoping for a new pair of socks?"
"..."
The abrupt change in topic made Fudge's mouth twitch, but he chose to ignore it. Leaning closer, he lowered his voice.
"The thing is, I received a tip-off."
"Oh?"
"Someone claims there's a Werewolf inside Hogwarts. I know it sounds absurd, and I'm not inclined to believe it, but still..."
Dumbledore's expression was unnervingly calm.
Seeing the difference in his demeanor, Fudge fell silent, exchanging a glance with the Head of the Auror Office beside him. Out of Dumbledore's sight, their lips curled in a faint, knowing smile that vanished as quickly as it appeared.
When they turned back, both wore the same cold, businesslike expression.