Seeing Dumbledore suddenly reveal his edge, everyone finally remembered that this old man was publicly recognized as the foremost white wizard in the wizarding world.
If Dumbledore had not existed during the last Wizarding War, Voldemort would have broken into the Ministry of Magic long ago. How could they possibly be standing here leisurely holding a banquet?
Once they understood that, they immediately fell silent, shivering with fear. Some nervously looked away, no longer daring to meet Dumbledore's eyes, as if even one glance would expose the little schemes in their hearts.
Tver, however, understood Dumbledore's anger.
Just as he had mentioned, from the last war all the way to Voldemort's recent attack, the Ministry's attitude toward the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore had always been ambiguous.
What was even more ridiculous was that if Aurors wanted to openly fight Voldemort, they could only join the Order of the Phoenix instead of acting in the name of the Ministry of Magic.
All of it made the Ministry seem as if it wanted to watch Dumbledore and Voldemort fight each other to mutual ruin, so it could sit back and reap the benefits.
But the problem was that Dumbledore had no ambition to control the Ministry of Magic. Whether he was hurt or not brought the Ministry no benefit at all.
On the contrary, if Dumbledore fell, then the power and influence they so greedily desired would depend entirely on Voldemort's charity.
In a sense, the Ministry of Magic was simply the sort to bully the kind and fear the wicked. It had been taking advantage of an honest man all along.
So naturally, when that honest man's anger was vented on them, they deserved it.
That was also why Tver had begun planning around the Ministry of Magic in his first year after graduation. It was not because he expected them to give him much support, but because he feared this group of useless allies would drag him down.
"I didn't expect this," Madam Bones said, glancing curiously at Tver before turning to Dumbledore. "For the two of you to be so aligned."
Dumbledore turned to face Bones, his expression softening slightly.
"Amelia, as long as we focus on dealing with Voldemort, our views will always align."
Something was wrong.
Tver's suspicious gaze moved back and forth between the two of them.
Just from the tone of this conversation, which was far gentler than when she spoke to him, these two definitely knew each other. They might even be old friends.
But Madam Bones suddenly turned her gaze toward Tver, startling him.
"Then you can rest assured." Her expression paused with a trace of complexity. "The Ministry of Magic is now under the control of that fine professor of yours."
"Never mind this lot. I suspect that if I went against his wishes, I would probably have to leave the Ministry in disgrace, just like Fudge."
"Only planning ahead." Tver nodded lightly, but did not deny her words.
After experiencing Voldemort's attack, he would not allow anyone to meddle with the Ministry of Magic or interfere with his plans.
"Besides…"
"Besides, I wasn't driven out of the Ministry of Magic, Madam Bones."
As if a burden had been lifted from him, Fudge walked over with a cheerful smile, forming a sharp contrast with the bitter, resentful Barty Crouch beside him.
"In fact, they merely said what I was going to say ahead of time…" Barty said with an indescribably complicated expression.
He was different from Fudge. He would not worry needlessly that Dumbledore and Tver would replace him, nor did he think that the Order of the Phoenix growing stronger would weaken the Ministry's authority.
Even when dealing with Voldemort, with Tver and Dumbledore helping him, he had no worries at all.
Well, all right, since it was Voldemort, there was still a little worry.
But most of that worry came from internal friction between the Ministry of Magic and the Order of the Phoenix. That was why he had invited Dumbledore to attend tonight's banquet, to send a message to the outside world.
The foremost white wizard was willing to put aside past grievances and join hands with the Ministry of Magic against the Dark Lord.
When that happened, even if he retired immediately after defeating Voldemort, he, Barty Crouch, would still be a renowned Minister of Magic in the wizarding world, completely different from that fool Fudge.
Only Tver and Dumbledore had echoed one another and conveyed the impassioned speech he had spent days preparing in an entirely different way.
"Is that so? Then you may need to change your speech." Fudge laughed with undisguised schadenfreude, paying no attention at all to Barty's increasingly dark expression.
Now that he had attached himself to Tver, he was practically thriving in the Joint Operations Office.
He truly was not good at operational matters, but he did not need to plan those anyway.
At Tver's request, all he needed to do was maintain good relations with the heads of the other departments involved in the joint operation, or occasionally go have tea with the Prime Minister and members of Parliament to understand opinions within the British government.
That was something he was excellent at, far better than he had ever been as Minister of Magic.
So even though he was still officially an employee of the Ministry of Magic, if anyone asked him to return there, he would absolutely refuse ten thousand times over.
As for Barty's opinion, he no longer cared.
Seeing that the volcano called Barty was about to erupt, Tver hurriedly soothed him. "Dumbledore and I were only speaking from feeling. Of course, words like that will be far more effective coming from you, the Minister of Magic."
Barty gave Tver a resentful glance, said nothing, and turned away helplessly.
You just openly spoke on behalf of the Ministry of Magic. Which one of us is actually the Minister?
Still, resentment was resentment. When he stepped onto the stage, Barty adjusted his state of mind, and even seemed to carry an air of authority as if he had been preparing for this moment for years.
Although the speech was still the same set of ideas from Tver.
After listening for a while, Tver, somewhat bored, shifted his attention to the banquet's chocolate cake and chocolate. No, to Babajide.
"Didn't you say the Wizards' Confederation was very busy? Why do I keep seeing you wandering around Britain?" he asked casually while eating cake.
He had thought the food at a banquet like this would not be anything special. He had not expected the cake to taste unexpectedly good.
Of course, it might also be because it had been far too long since he had leisurely enjoyed a piece of cake. Just being able to eat it already made him feel satisfied.
"You know I'm busy!" Babajide complained, nudging Tver. "If the situation in Britain weren't so special, especially the Joint Operations Office…"
Tver paused mid-bite, his brows knitting slightly, but he still asked in a casual tone, "Is there anything strange about the Office here? Actually, muggles also have many temporary emergency departments that operate this way."
"But the wizarding world doesn't…" Babajide sighed. "Many countries have responded to your call…"
"The Confederation's call!" Tver emphasized.
"But they lack experience in cross-departmental cooperation, and wizards have no idea how to get along with muggles."
"At first, because it was new, many problems were covered up. But now that the Office has been officially implemented for more than half a year, more and more issues have appeared. I can only try to summarize effective methods from Britain's experience and promote them elsewhere."
"However…" Babajide changed direction and looked expectantly at Dumbledore, who was also eating cake.
"Since the misunderstanding between you and the Ministry of Magic has been resolved, Albus, it would be perfectly natural for you to return to the Wizards' Confederation."
Hearing that, Tver nearly choked on his cake.
If Dumbledore returned to the Confederation, how was he supposed to use the Confederation to influence the Ministries of Magic in other countries?
"Ahem. Dumbledore needs to guard against Voldemort right now, doesn't he? Last time, the Death Eaters nearly ran rampant through Hogwarts."
Dumbledore smiled faintly, the chocolate stuck to his teeth especially conspicuous.
"Exactly. Since I'm so busy, isn't there still Tver?"
"…"