0444 Explanation

The group of dark wizards who had launched such a brazen attack on the Quidditch World Cup were certainly not the same as the powerful witch who had later dueled with Bryan Watson. Nor were they connected to the ugly, grotesque figure that had materialized in the sky at last. This truth was known not only to Fudge but to many others who had been present in the top box of the stadium that night.

They all saw that the shockingly powerful witch was after Harry Potter. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that her goal had been to kidnap him.

As for the earlier group, those black-robed wizards their motives seemed less clear-cut. Based on the limited information they had managed to gather in the chaos, these individuals didn't appear to have been intent on causing widespread harm or casualties. Instead, their actions seemed calculated to inspire fear, or to create panic and confusion among the gathered crowds.

Fudge's mind whirled with these thoughts, his political instincts warring with his personal fears and suspicions. He opened his mouth to speak, but found himself at a loss for words. His gaze, filled with a mixture of confusion and desperation, turned towards the quiet Dumbledore.

A nagging question kept pushing its way towards Fudge's mind.

'Why would that witch want to kidnap Harry Potter?'

Fudge had always kept a watchful eye on the boy, of course. It was part of his job, after all, to be aware of potential threats and points of interest within the wizarding community. And Harry Potter, by virtue of his history and his fame, was certainly a point of interest. Fudge's surveillance had showed that the boy was far from a model student at Hogwarts when it came to following rules. In fact, many of the incidents that had occurred at the school over the past two years had involved the child in some ways.

Yet, despite all of this, Harry had always been under the watchful eyes of both Dumbledore and the Ministry. And there was no information, no intelligence, no hint of anything that could explain how or why Harry Potter could have provoked such a powerful and resolute dark witch. What could a teenage boy, barely into his fourth year at Hogwarts, have done to draw the attention of such a formidable enemy?

Fudge's mind, desperate for answers, began to explore darker possibilities. Aside from the Death Eaters imprisoned in Azkaban, he couldn't imagine who would be so desperate to harm Harry Potter. Unless...

A chilling thought began to take form in Fudge's mind. There might be one, but that person was-- no, it was impossible. That person was finished, gone, But then, that grotesque figure who had appeared at the end of the night's chaos, so ugly and disgusting, but with a face that looked...

Fudge's lips trembled a few times as he forcibly stopped himself from continuing that line of thought.

Into this tense silence, Bryan's voice cut like a knife, startling both Fudge and Dumbledore from their private contemplations.

"That witch is the leader of this group of cloaked wizards, they're a band of deranged criminals who have been wreaking havoc in Albania for some time now. I've been on their trail for the past two years, tracking their movements and gathering intelligence.

These fanatics have never actually met the Dark Lord, but they worship him with blind devotion Tonight's attack at the World Cup was their twisted way of paying homage to him. They disguised themselves as Death Eaters and unleashed this terrible assault showing their devotion to the Dark Lord."

'Lies! Utter nonsense!'

The words echoed in Fudge's mind, a habitual reaction to the audacious claims being made. Even Cornelius Fudge, a man well-versed in the subtle art of political doublespeaking, found his eyes widening in disbelief at Bryan's words. He instinctively wanted to refute them, but before the words of protest could leave his mouth, he suddenly remembered a secret report he had read a few days ago.

The report had detailed a disturbing incident in Albania, one that had sent shockwaves through both the magical and Muggle worlds. Most of the dark wizards active in that region had been wiped out in a single brutal attack. The incident had caused severe repercussions in the Muggle world, with inexplicable disappearances making headlines across Eastern Europe. Despite extensive investigations, the perpetrators of this massacre had yet to be identified or brought to justice.

Fudge stared at Bryan with a slightly horrified look. The report stated that those lawless dark wizards had died very miserably.

They were dead. All of them.

But as this chilling thought settled in Fudge's mind, a new thought began to take shape. His eyes lit up with a spark of political wit. This meant there was no one left to testify. Those incinerated dark wizards couldn't stand up and defend themselves against Bryan's claims.

Moreover, if this explanation were to be accepted and propagated, it would serve multiple purposes. It would explain to the public why Bryan Watson had seemed to know the witch called Cliodna during their duel. It also provided a neat, if somewhat convenient, explanation for the night's events. And perhaps most importantly from Fudge's perspective, it allowed Bryan to position himself as a hero who had been secretly working to protect the wizarding world, while simultaneously distancing himself from any direct involvement in the night's catastrophic events.

The pieces of this narrative began to take their place in Fudge's mind. Bryan had been to Albania and was tracking those Dark wizards preparing for confrontation and he had also eliminated a group of dark wizards nesting there.

Dumbledore's gaze flickered for a moment, a brief flash of something crossing his weathered features. But he said nothing in front of Fudge.

In his earlier moment of agitation, Fudge had aggravated the wound on his arm. Now, as he gradually calmed down, the pain made his face slightly pale. He glanced at the small bloodstain on the bandage, muttered a few words, and returned to the conference table.

Bryan, having delivered his explosive narrative, fell silent once more. The office sank back into a tense, contemplative quiet, broken only by the soft ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece.

The truth.

It was the least important thing. Everyone needed an explanation. The Ministry needed one, a story to present to the public that would maintain their image of control and competence. The folks of Magical Britain needed one, something to ease their fears and restore their sense of security. Bryan Watson needed one, a tale that would elevate his status as a hero rather than raise uncomfortable questions about his involvement. The wizards from various countries who had come to watch the match needed one, an assurance that their safety had not been cruelly disregarded by their British hosts. And perhaps most pressingly, the families of the injured and the deceased needed one, a reason for their suffering, a target for their grief and anger.

But Fudge knew, with the weary pessimism of a career politician, that an explanation and compensation alone would not be enough. For such a heinous incident, one that had shattered the illusion of peace and security that Magical Britain had enjoyed for over a decade, the Ministry had to be seen taking decisive action. They had to arrest the culprits as soon as possible. Otherwise, the reputation of the British Ministry of Magic would once again face a serious challenge, one far worse than the embarrassment caused by Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban and the subsequent revelation of his innocence.

However, both "as soon as possible" and "arresting the culprits" were daunting tasks for the Ministry, challenges that seemed almost insurmountable given their current situation and the mysterious nature of their enemies. The attackers had vanished like smoke, leaving behind only chaos and questions. How could they hope to track down and arrest such elusive foes?

The Ministry now had one arrested terrorist in its custody. Under normal circumstances, they would interrogate her relentlessly, using every tool at their disposal to force her to reveal the purpose behind their attack and the identities of her accomplices. But using Bryan's explanation... well, Fudge had to admit, grudgingly and with a mixture of admiration and resentment, that Bryan Watson had once again come up with a brilliant idea.

This explanation neatly clarified why these wizards were dressed as Death Eaters and why they had launched their attack. Most ingeniously, it completely disconnected the supposedly vanquished Dark Lord from this incident, portraying it as the independent plot of a group of deranged fanatics. It was a narrative that allowed the Ministry to maintain the illusion of control while simultaneously distancing themselves from any deeper, more troubling implications.

In this new light, the Ministry didn't need to expend much effort on interrogating their captive, the witch named Melanov. People wouldn't care how many "small fry" the Ministry had caught in their net. What the public most wanted to see, what they would demand with increasing enthusiasm in the coming days, was the Ministry sending Cliodna, the apparent leader of these lunatics who had planned this shameful attack, to Azkaban.

If Barty known for his hardline stance against Dark wizards, proposed executing that witch this time, Fudge knew he would agree without hesitation. It would be a decisive action, a clear message to the public that the Ministry was in control and that justice would be swift and merciless.

As these thoughts raced through his mind, Fudge found himself already thinking along the lines of Bryan Watson's suggestion. But a nagging question remained, one that endangered the neat narrative they were constructing.

'Could the Ministry actually capture that mysteriously powerful witch?'

Without anyone telling him, Fudge knew the answer was an unambiguous no. It was absolutely impossible. They knew nothing about her - her true identity, her whereabouts, absolutely nothing.

Bryan seemed to have finished speaking, his suggestion laid out for their consideration. Fudge looked at him a few times, seeking some sign of what the young wizard was thinking. But Bryan skillfully pretended not to notice. Left with no other option, Fudge had no choice but to turn his pleading gaze once more towards Dumbledore.

'Lies and deception...' Dumbledore sighed deeply in his heart.

But reality, Dumbledore knew all too well, isn't a fairy tale. You can't always stick to the rules and at the same time hope to mitigate the impact of a crisis as quickly as possible. There are not so many good things in this world that can have the best of both worlds.

Sometimes, hard choices must be made, compromises struck for the greater good.

"Bryan--" Dumbledore began, his voice soft but carrying easily in the tense silence of the office. He paused, choosing his words carefully.

Dumbledore had always pursued ideals, striving for a better, more just world. But that didn't mean he was an idealist, blind to the harsh realities of the world they lived in. And in this matter, as distasteful as it might be, he recognized that lies were necessary.

"We must catch the culprit to give a justification to the people who were harmed tonight." The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. It was as close as Dumbledore would come to endorsing the deception, but it was enough.

Bryan looked up at Dumbledore's words, their gaze meeting in mid-air. They just stared at each other for a while.

A moment later, Bryan shifted his gaze to the uneasy Fudge, raising his eyebrows slightly, as a strange smile flashed across his lips.

"I don't understand--"

His smile faded, and Bryan spoke in a low voice.

"Haven't I already cooperated with the Ministry to catch the culprit?" he continued, his tone one of innocent bewilderment. "Minister, your subordinate Rufus is interrogating her right now. In my opinion, there's nothing left to interrogate, is there?

We've already uncovered the motive behind this heinous attack. What remains now is to convene the Wizengamot for a formal trial, following all the proper legal procedures, of course." Bryan's eyes glinted with hardness. "And finally, we must ensure that Cliodna is imprisoned in Azkaban for the remainder of her days. For such a dangerous and depraved criminal, I believe we should prepare a separate, specially secured chamber."

The suggestion was audacious, bordering on the absurd. Yet, it was delivered with such conviction that it momentarily stunned both Fudge and Dumbledore into silence.

Quietly, almost comically, Fudge's mouth fell open.

Under Fudge's bewildered gaze, Bryan took out the staff he had confiscated from Cliodna. This staff had been passed down for generations among the Druid priests. It was the source of power; without it, that woman Cliodna couldn't have dueled with him.

Fudge immediately sat up straight. He stared fixedly at the staff Bryan had produced, his breathing becoming lighter. Even a fool would know that this uniquely shaped Staff, inconsistent with wizard traditions, was extraordinary!

Even Dumbledore adjusted his spectacles, his penetrating gaze sweeping over the grapevine wand. This was a powerful alchemical artifact from another system. A wizard like Dumbledore couldn't help but be interested. He could sense the extraordinary magic stored in the wand in a peculiar way. But Bryan bringing out his trophy...

"You're planning to--" Fudge began, unable to contain his excitement. A flush of unnatural excitement appeared on his pale cheeks, bringing some color back to his face for the first time since the night's chaotic events had begun. He stared eagerly at Bryan, his expression full of anticipation, like a child on Christmas morning waiting to unwrap a particularly enticing gift.

Bryan's response was surprising. With a fluid motion, he took out his own wand and tapped it gently on the staff. In an instant, an identical staff appeared on the table, a perfect replica down to the last intricate carving.

Without missing a beat, Bryan put away the real staff, stashing it back into the folds of his robes. Then, with a casual flick of his wand, he levitated the fake staff onto the table in front of Fudge. The intention behind this little performance was clear.

As much as he had been excited before, Fudge was now equally disappointed.

Mumbling a few incoherent words under his breath, Fudge slumped back into his chair. He had understood Bryan's meaning.

"In a moment, I'll go and remove the fire cage trapping Cliodna. By the way, does the Ministry have wizards skilled in human transfiguration?"

"Of course, we do!" Fudge, feeling insulted, jumped up again indignantly. "When I was studying at Hogwarts, I got an 'O' in my OWLs Transfiguration exam!"

"It was an 'E', Cornelius--" Dumbledore said with a smile.

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