Harry Potter: Westeros’s Plant Life
0197 Terror

The silence that had settled over McGonagall's office was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, with Fudge showing no signs of concluding his self-congratulatory monologue.

Professor McGonagall, her patience finally reaching its limit, cleared her throat with the kind of sound that had silenced countless unruly students over the decades.

"Minister," She said, her Scottish accent lending a sharp edge to her words, "forgive my directness, but is there anything else you specifically require from us this evening? We do have pressing school matters to attend to."

Fudge's cheerful expression shifted slightly, as if he had suddenly remembered the official purpose of his visit.

"Oh, yes, of course," He said, his gaze sweeping around the room before settling on Dumbledore with focus. "There is actually one more crucial matter I need to address. The Ministry has received a large list of criminal charges against Gilderoy Lockhart, along with substantial evidence supporting these accusations. I'm here to take him into official custody for a thorough investigation."

"Of course," Dumbledore said. "Naturally, we will cooperate fully with the Ministry's investigation, Cornelius. However, as I explained in my letter, you should be aware that Lockhart's current mental state makes interrogation impossible. He doesn't remember anything."

Fudge waved his hand with casual dismissiveness. "That's of no consequence, Albus. The Ministry has experts specifically trained to handle such situations. We have Legilimens specialists, truth serum administrators, and memory reconstruction experts. Even if Lockhart has genuinely lost all memories, there may still be buried fragments we can extract."

He paused, his expression growing more serious. "Besides, regardless of his mental state, the legal process must be followed. His conviction requires proper documentation and procedure."

Dumbledore nodded slightly and turned to Professor McGonagall. "Very well. Minerva, would you be so kind as to escort the Minister to the hospital wing?"

Professor McGonagall rose from her chair, though her expression showed she was less than thrilled about the interruption to their important faculty discussion. "Certainly. Please follow me, Minister. Lockhart is currently receiving treatment from Madam Pomfrey."

Just as the trio was preparing to leave the office, Fudge suddenly stopped, turning back to face Dumbledore.

"Wait a moment, Albus." His voice had dropped to a whisper, and his hands trembled slightly as he spoke. "That person... the one you mentioned in your letter... has he really... truly... returned?"

Dumbledore looked at him with those penetrating eyes, his expression incomprehensible. "Cornelius," he said softly, "what kind of answer are you hoping to hear?"

Fudge's Adam's apple bobbed nervously as he swallowed hard, and he let out a forced laugh. "Ha! Well, you understand, I simply need to... to confirm the details for official records. After all, if such news were to reach the public, the consequences would be catastrophic. Mass panic, international incidents, the International Confederation of Wizards—"

"He has returned, Cornelius."

Dumbledore's words cut through Fudge's rambling with finality.

The color drained from Fudge's face as if someone had cast a Blood-Repelling Charm on him. For a moment, he looked like he might collapse, but then his political instincts kicked in, and he forced his face into a rigid, unconvincing smile.

"But surely there's no concrete evidence, is there?" His voice carried the desperate hope of a drowning man grasping for anything. "Everyone knows that You-Know-Who was destroyed twelve years ago by Harry Potter. That's precisely why the boy became famous as the Boy Who Lived."

Dumbledore's sigh seemed to carry the weight of years. "You must learn to accept reality, Cornelius, regardless of how unpalatable it may be. Lockhart was possessed and controlled by Voldemort. This is not speculation or theory—it is documented fact, witnessed by multiple members of our faculty."

"Impossible," Fudge continued to protest, though his voice lacked conviction. "It could have been something else…."

Adrian observed Fudge's desperate denial and could see the fear in Fudge's eyes.

If Voldemort had indeed returned, Fudge's entire political career would be in jeopardy. He had built his reputation on maintaining the peaceful status quo that had existed since the Dark Lord's supposed defeat. Acknowledging Voldemort's return would mean admitting that the wizarding world was once again in mortal danger, and that he, as Minister, might be utterly unprepared to handle such a crisis.

"Gentlemen, I really must take my leave now," Fudge said abruptly, clearly desperate to escape this uncomfortable conversation. "Oh, by the way, I believe I spotted Lucius Malfoy at the school gates when I arrived. He seemed to be heading toward the castle."

Adrian's eyebrows rose slightly at this information.

'Lucius Malfoy,' He thought with amusement. He recalled the recent quarrel between Lucius and Arthur Weasley in Diagon Alley, and couldn't help but anticipate that the evening was about to become more eventful.

Professor McGonagall left with the visibly flustered Minister, leaving the remaining faculty members in temporary peace. However, that tranquility was short-lived.

About five minutes later, as if summoned by Fudge's mention of his name, Lucius Malfoy stormed aggressively into Professor McGonagall's office.

Lucius looked furious, with Dobby following behind him, cowering and bearing some fresh injuries.

When Dobby's gaze fell upon Adrian among the faculty, his eyes brightened momentarily with what appeared to be hope or recognition, but after a nervous glance at his master's back, he immediately lowered his head again.

"This is a private faculty meeting, Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall said sternly, having returned from escorting Fudge. "You have no business here. Please leave immediately, and if you have official concerns, you may schedule an appointment to discuss them at an appropriate time."

Lucius appeared to be completely deaf to McGonagall's words. His intense gaze was fixed solely on Dumbledore, and when he spoke, his voice carried the cold arrogance of a man accustomed to getting his way through intimidation and wealth.

"Dumbledore," He said, his tone soaking in contempt, "according to my information, you should have been officially dismissed from your position as headmaster by order of the Board of Governors. What are you doing here? Do you intend to blatantly ignore the Board's legal authority? I demand an explanation."

Adrian shook his head internally, recognizing the tactical error Lucius was making. The man clearly had no understanding of how thoroughly the situation had changed, or how well Dumbledore would have prepared for this confrontation.

Dumbledore's response was delivered with the kind of gentle, grandfatherly warmth that made his words all the more devastating.

"Ah, yes, that particular matter," He said, his eyes twinkling with what might have been amusement. "I'm afraid I may have forgotten to inform you of recent developments—old age does make one forgetful about certain details, you know."

He paused, savoring the moment before delivering the blow. "The other eleven members of the Board of Governors have all formally withdrawn their dismissal orders. They've come to the conclusion that only I possess the experience and capability necessary to properly manage Hogwarts during these challenging times."

Lucius's confident expression began to falter, but Dumbledore wasn't finished.

"Moreover," He continued, his voice taking on a sharper edge while maintaining its calm tone, "I've learned some rather disturbing information during my conversations with the other Board members. Information that I believe you'll find... enlightening."

Lucius's expression instantly turned ugly—Dumbledore hadn't forgotten to notify him; he simply hadn't wanted him to know.

'Age-related forgetfulness?'

This old fox was really good at making excuses.

Dumbledore began walking slowly toward Lucius, his hands clasped behind his back. "The other Board members informed me that you had made certain... threats regarding their families. They said you suggested that terrible accidents might befall their loved ones if they didn't vote to remove me from my position."

The sound of Lucius's walking stick clattering against the stone floor seemed unnaturally loud in the suddenly silent room. Behind him, Dobby trembled so violently that Adrian worried the poor creature might collapse from fear.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Lucius managed to say, though his voice had lost much of its earlier confidence. "Clearly you've been misinformed. However, since the dismissal order has apparently been withdrawn, perhaps you can enlighten me—have you managed to identify the perpetrator behind these petrification incidents?"

"Indeed, we have," Dumbledore replied calmly.

Lucius's expression froze, he was stunned.

"The culprit was Voldemort," Dumbledore continued straightforwardly. "He managed to enter Hogwarts through a specific cursed object, which allowed him to orchestrate all the attacks you're well aware of. Fortunately, our Professor Adrian Westeros, was able to identify the threat and drive Voldemort's presence from the school."

Lucius unconsciously stepped back half a pace, his walking stick making crisp tapping sounds on the floor.

"I believe you may be suffering from senile dementia, Dumbledore," He said, though his voice trembled with suppressed panic. "The things you're suggesting are absolutely preposterous. Such wild accusations are hardly appropriate for someone in your position."

At that moment, Lucius felt a gentle touch on his shoulder. He spun around to find Adrian standing behind him, wearing a pleasant smile that somehow managed to be deeply unsettling.

In Adrian's hands was a small, black book.

"Allow me to show you something of interest, Mr. Malfoy," Adrian said, his tone casual and friendly.

Before Lucius could react, the diary had appeared in his own hands. The moment his fingers made contact with the familiar leather binding, his entire body began to shake uncontrollably. The book slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor.

Adrian found the reaction quite satisfying, though he had to suppress a smile at the effectiveness of his deception.

The diary in question was actually a fake he had created, an exact replica of Tom Riddle's original journal with the appropriate wear patterns and aging. However, he was confident that Lucius would be unable to detect the difference, especially given his current state of psychological distress.

"Oh dear, do be careful, Mr. Malfoy," Adrian said with mock concern as he gracefully took the fallen diary and placed it back in Lucius's trembling hands. "You don't need to worry about handling it now—Voldemort's soul that was housed inside has already left. There's really no cause for such nervousness."

Lucius stood frozen in place, clutching the diary as if it were a venomous snake. His pale features cycled through a spectacular range of expressions.

"Fortunately," Dumbledore said in the kind of peaceful tone one might use to discuss garden planning, "all of the students who were affected by this dark object managed to retain their lives. Otherwise, I am certain that whoever was responsible for introducing such a dangerous object into our school would have faced rather severe consequences. Don't you agree, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Yes... indeed... that would certainly be the case," Lucius managed to croak, his composure completely shattered.

"Also," Dumbledore stepped forward gently taking the diary from Lucius's hands and examining it briefly before returning it. "I feel compelled to offer you some advice. According to our investigation this object originally came from you though naturally, such details can no longer be verified. However, what I want to impress upon you is this: you must never again distribute any of Voldemort's belongings."

Dumbledore's blue eyes seemed to pierce directly into Lucius's soul as he continued, "I'm well aware that you still possess quite a collection of such artifacts, acquired during your years of service to him. If any of these items were to fall into innocent hands again, if more children were to be endangered..."

He let the threat hang unfinished in the air. "Well, I'm certain you wouldn't want to be responsible for such tragic incidents occurring again, would you, Mr. Malfoy?"

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