“…What do you mean?” It was a long while before Fudge finally asked again.
Eric’s voice seemed to possess a strange kind of magic.
His words were spoken lightly, yet when they reached Fudge’s ears, they struck like thunder.
“The matter of Sirius Black is connected to Dumbledore.” “If you’re willing to accept my terms, then you may have the chance to become the true Minister for Magic…” No one understood the feelings buried deep within Cornelius Fudge better than Fudge himself.
They were extraordinarily complicated, a mixture of respect, fear, humiliation, helplessness, and countless other emotions, all of which had eventually developed into a profound fear of Dumbledore.
And now Eric had exposed that fear directly, leaving Fudge not even the slightest shred of dignity with which to conceal it.
Before Eric mentioned Dumbledore’s name, Fudge could never have truly believed him.
And that was only natural.
Forget the Minister for Magic, even an ordinary person wouldn’t readily trust a child they had never met before.
Eric claimed to possess information about Sirius Black, but he hadn’t actually placed any evidence in front of Fudge.
So no matter what Eric said, Fudge had maintained a cautious attitude throughout their conversation.
He simply couldn’t find any reason to believe Eric, much less enter into the sort of deal the boy was proposing.
Was he supposed to trust him merely because of everything Eric had done tonight?
Eric was certainly unusual.
Fudge wasn’t the only person capable of seeing that.
But unusual only went so far.
It certainly wasn’t enough for Fudge to accept everything Eric said on the strength of a few sentences.
The moment Eric mentioned Dumbledore, however, everything changed.
Fudge had never expected Sirius Black’s situation to involve Dumbledore.
Of course, Fudge had never admitted to anyone that he feared, and envied, the enormous influence Dumbledore possessed.
All these years, Fudge had presented himself as Dumbledore’s loyal ally.
Occasionally, he used his authority as Minister for Magic to secure a few benefits for himself, but Fudge considered that perfectly reasonable.
Dumbledore had tacitly allowed it as well.
As long as Fudge remained useful to Dumbledore, Dumbledore would have no reason to abandon him.
Ever since entering the Ministry, Fudge’s rise had largely been supported by Dumbledore.
In a sense, he had become Dumbledore’s representative within the Ministry.
Who didn’t know how obedient Cornelius Fudge was towards Dumbledore?
If Dumbledore said one thing, Fudge certainly wouldn’t dare openly say another.
But that had been before.
Back when he was merely an ordinary Ministry official, Fudge could afford to follow Dumbledore’s wishes without complaint.
Now he was no ordinary official.
He was the Minister for Magic.
Power had a way of nourishing ambition.
It was the finest aphrodisiac in the world.
And after becoming Minister, Fudge had naturally begun developing certain ideas that Dumbledore would never approve of…
For instance, granting influential wizarding families more “privileges” resembling honorary titles.
Or placing more witches and wizards personally loyal to Fudge within the Wizengamot.
Of course, all those ideas ultimately shared one common purpose.
Galleons.
Cornelius Fudge would never believe there was such a thing as having too many Galleons.
And if Dumbledore genuinely had some connection to Sirius Black’s affair, it wouldn’t need to be anything particularly serious.
So long as Dumbledore displayed even the slightest inclination to favour Black, it could inflict tremendous damage on his reputation.
In other words, Fudge might finally have an opportunity to free himself from Dumbledore’s shadow.
He would no longer need to consider Dumbledore’s attitude every time he made a decision.
Eric hadn’t explained any of this explicitly.
He didn’t need to.
If Fudge couldn’t work out something so obvious for himself, he never would have become Minister for Magic in the first place.
Fudge was greedy, not stupid.
He still possessed the basic qualities required of a Minister, and his political instincts were particularly sharp.
And what Eric needed was precisely someone like Fudge, someone who believed himself clever enough to convince himself.
In short, this might be Fudge’s chance to finally realise those ambitions.
Gulp.
After Eric finished speaking, Fudge remained frozen in place.
For a while, neither of them said anything.
Then the loud sound of Fudge swallowing broke the silence.
Eric smiled, entirely unsurprised.
He knew he had successfully awakened Fudge’s greed.
“I told you, Minister.
There’s no need for excessive probing between us,” Eric said calmly.
Fudge didn’t respond for a long time.
At that moment, he felt as though he were completely transparent before Eric.
As though the boy could see straight through him, inside and out.
Every petty calculation.
Every secret concern.
Everything he truly cared about.
Nothing seemed capable of escaping Eric’s eyes.
The thought terrified Fudge.
And, at the same time, excited him.
After drawing another deep breath, Fudge gradually relaxed.
“Tell me where you come from.” Of course.
As far as Fudge was concerned, Eric was merely a representative sent to communicate with him.
Once he had confirmed that Eric wasn’t using magic or potions to disguise his appearance, that conclusion had almost immediately formed in Fudge’s mind.
Eric hadn’t exactly tried to discourage the assumption either.
For someone of Eric’s age to possess such composure was profoundly unnatural.
Fudge simply refused to believe that an eleven year old boy had independently decided to use information about Sirius Black as leverage in a political bargain with the Minister for Magic.
That simply wasn’t possible.
Not even by magical standards.
So it was only natural that Fudge assumed someone else, or some organisation, had to be standing behind Eric.
And Eric had, of course, anticipated the question long ago.
After Fudge spoke, Eric rose calmly from his chair.
He walked over to a nearby table, picked up a sheet of parchment and a quill, and with only a few strokes drew a symbol upon the parchment.
Then he handed it to Fudge.
Having done so, Eric returned to his chair and sat down again, smiling as he watched for Fudge’s reaction.
To Fudge, Eric’s actions were obvious confirmation of his theory.
There really was an organisation behind him.
Without a word, Fudge accepted the parchment from Eric.
Then he looked down— and almost couldn’t believe his eyes.
Drawn upon the parchment was a symbol Fudge had seen before.
A triangle containing a circle.
And through the centre of that circle ran a single vertical line.
Fudge stopped breathing.
Most people might not have recognised it, but he had seen the symbol in Ministry documents before.
He had even heard the story behind it, and what it represented, from Dumbledore himself.
It was— Grindelwald’s mark!