"You think it's true?"
"No way."
"I'm telling you, I saw it. He really threw one out…"
People were annoying. Richard ignored the whispers, the direct questions, and even those who followed him just to pry about the Dementor incident.
Instead, he walked faster down the corridor toward the familiar staircase.
"Sour drops."
Richard found himself standing once more in front of the most powerful wizard of the current time.
"Professor Dumbledore. Professor McGonagall." He acknowledged them, ignoring the two other people standing beside them.
"Mr. Cloverfield."
Despite the worry and tension on the others' faces, Dumbledore remained calm, his smile unchanged as he greeted Richard.
"I'm sorry to pull you away before you could enjoy the feast. But as you can see, the matter was considered urgent by those present."
"It's—"
"This is preposterous, Dumbledore."
Richard frowned as the old man interrupted him.
"We cannot allow a student prank to turn into a full-blown scandal."
"A student prank!" McGonagall looked near her limit. "A student was attacked. A Hogwarts student was attacked by a Dementor on the Hogwarts Express. This has never happened in the history of this school, and you intend to dismiss it as a prank?"
Fudge fell silent immediately.
Richard never liked him. A man like Fudge was what he would compare to a fence planted in mud—bending whichever way profit blew him, uprooted by the slightest pressure. They were always easy prey for devils.
"I apologize for interrupting," a sharp voice cut in, entirely unrepentant.
"But this rumor itself implies the Ministry has no control over the Dementors that guard the most secure prison in the world…"
She scoffed.
"Or perhaps even suggests the Ministry itself orchestrated an attack on a student. Or—" her eyebrows rose theatrically, "—that Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban was somehow assisted internally? Surely Hogwarts wouldn't want such absurd rumors spreading at a time like this?"
"Yes."
Silence.
Four pairs of eyes locked onto Richard. He stared back at the woman in pink without flinching.
"If that is what I implied… what would you do?"
"Boy, this is not the time for games—"
"Then stop playing with me."
McGonagall spoke carefully. "Mr. Cloverfield, that is the Minister of Magic."
"I know."
Another pause.
"Mr. Cloverfield, your little prank has gone too far," Umbridge said, stepping forward. "Do you understand the consequences of your actions? People might believe your lies—"
"So you—"
"—ehem—cause unnecessary disruption—"
"—just think that—"
"EHEM!"
Her face was turning steadily pink.
"Mr. Cloverfield, that is enough."
McGonagall stepped in firmly. If this continued, Umbridge might actually lose control of herself.
"No."
Richard looked directly at Umbridge
"If this old cat witch thinks she can change whatever she wants, however she wants, don't expect me to listen to her."
He turned away from her and faced the Minister.
"If you want something, say it directly."
"Well…" Fudge hesitated. "The matter of the Dementor attack… we simply wish to confirm whether there is any truth to the rumors—"
"You want me to stay quiet? Because if you want, I can do that."
"I… I mean, there is no need for the spread of false—"
"Exactly. If it's only a rumor, and the person involved denies it—something that can be arranged with a little incentive…"
He trailed off. He wanted money. Unfortunately, he was short on leverage.
The room stared at him.
Fudge looked almost tempted.
"No."
Umbridge's voice cut through the silence.
"The Ministry rejects this preposterous claim. The Dementors are fully accounted for and operate strictly under Ministry supervision. They have always been so."
"Tsk."
"Of course," Dumbledore said mildly, "as they should. But Cornelius, Dementors are dark creatures. They feed on despair and emotion. One cannot always predict their behavior when exposed to the presence of children."
He folded his hands.
"I do hope you will reconsider their placement within Hogwarts."
The conversation drifted away from Richard
.
A pity.
If it had only been Fudge, he might have walked away with a thousand Galleons.
That was why his preferred target were people like him.
Weak, deaparate with no real direction or plan.
Unfortunately, the woman in pink was still present. Else he could have struck a good deal.
"The Ministry will not change its position based on hearsay," Umbridge said sharply. Then she turned her gaze to Richard.
"As for you, young man… you should be disciplined thoroughly."
"That ,will be decided by his guardians and Hogwarts," McGonagall replied coldly. "I suggest the Senior Undersecretary focus on matters such as rogue Dementors instead of third-year disciplinary issues."
They finally left the room.
Richard's gaze lingered a moment longer on the minister, and the undersecretary.
We'll meet again.
"Mr. Cloverfield."
He turned.
McGonagall looked furious.
"What?"
"Never in my life have I seen such insolence. Such shamelessness. Such—such indecency!" Her voice rose. "You have disgraced Gryffindor in front of its Head of House."
"Sixty points from Gryffindor."
"What?" Richard said flatly. "I needed money. The Minister looked like enough of a pushover to try."
"Richard," Dumbledore said quietly, "when you grow older, you will learn there are things you cannot buy—and things you should not sell. Honor, courage, character. These matter more than money."
"I disagree, Professor."
He turned slightly away from McGonagall.
"I consider values like honor to be subjective, shaped by a person's goals and ambitions."
"If someone wants strength and independence, they will refuse scraps even when starving. If someone prioritizes survival above all else, they will accept those scraps—and even be grateful for them."
"And you are willing to sacrifice honor for what? Money?" McGonagall snapped.
Dumbledore raised a hand slightly before she could continue.
"That is an interesting perspective, Mr. Cloverfield. If honor is subjective—tied to personal goals—then tell me this: are right and wrong also subjective to you? Can they shift according to your thoughts, at your whim?"
Silence settled.
It was not the question that carried the weight, but rather the answer that Richard would give.
"Yes."
Richard's answer was immediate.
Dumbledore blinked, briefly taken aback.
"Isn't that true for everyone?" Richard asked.
"Isn't right and wrong always defined by personal values and perspective professor? Even society's morality is just a collection of shared individual beliefs."
"Then why do you think so?" Dumbledore asked calmly.
"It's like chickens."
Richard replied.
"Chickens are born in a coop. Most never see beyond it. When they stop laying eggs, they are slaughtered."
"We don't mourn every chicken on our table now do we?. In our perspective, that is normal."
"But someone who believes all life is equal, that freedom matters regardless of scale—they would see it as wrong, even if they grew up in the same society."
Dumbledore leaned back slowly.
"I see… then I take it your actions today were driven by the belief that monetary gain serves your goals better than honor?"
"Yes."
"There was no reason to be honest in that situation. The Minister would not believe a Dementor acted outside control, and he certainly would not believe a third-year repelled one."
"That is true," Dumbledore admitted.
"But it raises another question, does it not? How did you repel a Dementor, Mr. Cloverfield?"
"I cannot cast a Patronus, if that is what you mean."
He replied before they could dig further
"I used another method. I can reveal it—if it counts as a favor."
"It—"
A sudden cry interrupted him.
Caw!
A phoenix landed on Dumbledore's shoulder, watching Richard carefully.
Dumbledore chuckled softly.
"Oh. Fawkes is advising me not to agree to that."
He tilted his head.
"Did you two make an arrangement previously? Maybe last year? Something involving his missing tail feather ?"
Richard exhaled.
"Yes."
the exhaustion and defeat in that word was something even three pages of dialogue couldn't fully describe
Seriously, how is it so hard for someone to make a deal these days?