Harry Potter: The Golden Viper

0220 Hogsmeade

The snow drifted down like soft, white plumes, enveloping the world in fog. The landscape was a blur of grey and white, and the only sound was the muffled crunch of boots on the frozen ground. 

The cold north wind sliced through their clothes like a blade, and every time someone came in or out, the cold wind that poured into the pub from the door caused people to exclaim in unison. They shivered and wrapped their cloaks tighter around them, seeking warmth and comfort in the cozy atmosphere of the Three Broomsticks.

Fudge showed a rare quality like a high-ranking official of the Ministry of Magic. He kept his mouth shut and refused to reveal anything, regardless of how Professor Flitwick and Hagrid tried to pry. 

'Then why did you say it?' Bryan sighed inwardly, thinking that he was just showing off his superiority. 

"I think you have heard the hearts of the ordinary people, Minister." 

Fudge was the kind of politician who could talk to you all day without getting to the core of the problem. He was good at spinning words and avoiding responsibility, but he was not good at solving issues or making decisions. Bryan didn't want to spend the whole afternoon with Fudge in a contest of 'art of language'. He wanted to get to the point and discuss the matters that concerned him the most. So, after the mysterious event topic ended, he said bluntly, 

"Minister, I have heard Professor Dumbledore say that the Ministry of Magic had sworn that those Dementors would not break into Hogwarts and disturb the normal learning life of the young wizards, unless they found Black. But you see-" 

He spread his hands innocently. "Reality is always worse than we expected." He said with a hint of accusation in his voice, making Fudge squirm in his seat.

"Yes, yes–" Under the gaze of several professors, Fudge subconsciously wanted to wipe his forehead. He felt a bead of sweat trickle down his temple, and he wished he could escape from this awkward situation. But when he raised his hand, he realized that he was not talking to Dumbledore. He awkwardly picked up the cup and took a sip of the red currant rum in the cup to ease his mood. 

'Oh, well, another difficult guy!' He thought as he put down the cup. He sneaked a glance at Bryan's calm and purple eyes. The previous two experiences made Fudge mistakenly think that Bryan would be a young wizard who was friendly to the Ministry of Magic. 

The negotiation on whether to keep the Dementors was not complicated. Bryan and Professor McGonagall's real demands were simple: to control the number of Dementors and require them to take turns. This way, they could effectively prevent the Dementors from being too hungry and rushing into Hogwarts to kill. 

Fudge easily agreed to this. He knew that he had no choice but to comply, since he had no authority over Hogwarts or Dumbledore. The Dementors sent by the Ministry of Magic caused trouble first was only one of the factors. Bryan and his amazing monitoring device also made him feel less anxious. 

Meanwhile, more students came into the room, and the pub was noisy. They were laughing and chatting, oblivious to the serious conversation that was taking place in the corner.

And there seemed to be something wrong with the kettle on the fireplace shelf. They were holding their stomachs and coughing, spraying hot water from the spout, which splashed into the burning fire, making the whole pub smoky. It was a prank by Fred and George Weasley, who had slipped some of their joke products into the kettle. They watched from a distance, snickering and high-fiving each other.

"Uh, Dumbledore's whereabouts–" After finishing the Dementor issue, the remaining concern was Dumbledore's whereabouts. 

"I can't answer that for you," Fudge slurred his words as he muttered. He was feeling the effects of the rum, and was losing his composure. "Dumbledore wrote me a letter before he left Hogwarts, telling me he had to go out for a while. And as soon as I heard the news, I immediately found him. He can't just leave me alone to deal with the endless problems of the International Confederation of Wizards!" He complained, sounding more like a child than a minister.

What Fudge was trying to hide made everyone curious. Except for the reserved Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick and Hagrid started to ask around again. Fudge obviously knew that if he revealed a bit here, probably, by tomorrow evening, the centaurs in the Forbidden Forest would hear the wind. So, he just smiled and talked nonsense, not willing to say anything. 

Bryan did not join this topic. Not knowing from when, his expression became a bit strange, and he looked a bit absent-minded. His eyes were not on the few people in the conversation, but occasionally glanced at the outside of the door. 

A while ago, he suddenly felt that Harry, who he had marked, appeared in Hogsmeade and entered his mark sensing range. He stayed in a place for a few minutes, then quickly came to his side. And when he approached the Three Broomsticks, Bryan also sensed the two familiar magical powers that accompanied him. 

"Excuse me, everyone–" Hagrid was trying to ask Fudge and the officials of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures to say hello and ask them to be lenient with Buckbeak, when Bryan suddenly got up and interrupted him. 

"Miss Rosmerta's tea leaves are probably not very fresh. Please allow me to leave for a while–" Saying that, he left his seat and walked quickly to the inside. 

Ding-dong-dong! The pub door swung open with a bang, and two heads quickly peeked in through the crack. The swirling smoke made the already dim pub vision even worse. 

Harry looked around with interest, while trying to avoid bumping into the bustling crowd. He could smell the aroma of roasted chestnuts, spiced cider, and firewhiskey, mixed with the scent of pine and candles. Because they couldn't show their faces openly, they chose a hidden spot, between the window and a beautiful Christmas tree, so no one would notice it. The window was covered with frost, and the tree was decorated with glittering baubles, tinsel, and fairy lights. It was a cozy and festive corner, perfect for hiding and spying. 

"It's really lively here!" Ron went to get drinks. And Harry sat next to Hermione, happily saying, "I don't think anyone will notice me. What do you think, Hermione?" 

"No way, Harry!" Hermione said with a snap. "You've already taken a big risk. I won't let you take off your invisibility cloak." She looked around nervously, as if expecting someone to spot them at any moment. 

"I-, I didn't mean that, Hermione–" Harry, who was caught in his thoughts, said reluctantly. But then, his eyes were attracted by the steaming butterbeer on the table of a few older students next to him. He had only tasted this delicious drink once, last year due to Professor Watson's class, when he defeated the Inferi that night. Fred and George got it for everyone. 

Two minutes later, Ron came back with three identical cups of butterbeer. But when he passed a certain position, his hurried footsteps suddenly stumbled, and his happy expression turned to fright. He nearly dropped the drinks, as he saw who was sitting at the table near the fireplace. 

"What's wrong, Ron?" Harry, who had been staring at him, asked inexplicably. "The professors are there, Harry. Hide quickly, don't give yourself away!" 

Harry's body moved faster than his brain. As soon as he heard Ron say that, instinct drove him to slide under the table. And because he couldn't see Harry's movements, Ron stood there stupidly, using his body to block the possible line of sight from that position. 

He tried to act casual, as he placed the drinks on the table, and sat down next to Hermione. He hoped Harry was well hidden, and that the professors wouldn't come over to talk to them. He knew they would be in big trouble if they were caught.

"I told you!" Hermione lowered her voice and said angrily. "I had a feeling something might go wrong. And usually when I feel that way, things are always right!" She glared at Ron, as if blaming him for their predicament. She wished they had stayed in the castle, or at least chosen a less conspicuous place to visit. 

"Don't make such a fuss, Hermione–" After sitting down, Ron's heart was no longer beating so fast. He said indifferently, "They can't see Harry, can they?" 

With Ron's hint, Hermione and Harry finally noticed that the Minister of Magic and several professors were not far from them. Harry's most feared Gryffindor head of house was also there. He recognized Professor McGonagall, with her stern face and tartan hat, sitting next to Fudge, who was wearing a pinstriped suit and a lime-green bowler hat. 

"I can only say you're lucky, Harry." Hermione took out her wand and whispered 'Transfiguration' to the Christmas tree, so that it could better cover Harry under the table. "You should be glad that Professor Watson is not here. Your invisibility cloak can't fool his eyes!" 

'This is fun!' Harry thought so. 

And then, a pair of dazzling green stilettos appeared in his line of sight. The owner of the shoes stepped on the Minister of Magic's striped cloak on the ground and giggled. She was a tall and curvy woman, with long blonde hair and red lips. She wore a tight green dress that matched her shoes, and a fur coat that draped over her shoulders. She had a tray of drinks in her hands, and a smile on her face. She was Miss Rosmerta, the landlady of the Three Broomsticks, and one of the most popular women in Hogsmeade. 

"Do you need some more, Minister?" Miss Rosmerta asked as she poured Fudge another full glass of wine. 

"Let's have some more, dear!" Fudge raised his voice, feeling tipsy. "I just came back from Paris, and tomorrow I have to get back to troubl-, ahem work. It's rare to have some free time." He took a sip of his wine, and sighed. 

"Big shots are always busy," Miss Rosmerta said. "By the way, is there any new progress in the Ministry? I mean, on the hunt for Black." 

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