Thus it is.
Only then can he prevent certain things he doesn't want to see happen, and only then can he have the capital to negotiate when facing Albus Dumbledore, possessing a trump card to make this century's most powerful wizard compromise.
"He certainly has a motive!"
Umbridge may be an adequate sycophant, but she is definitely not a truly qualified politician; she's obviously lacking in the ability to understand the thoughts of her leader.
Fudge's words made this fellow think she needed to step forward as the bad guy.
"Oh?"
Grindelwald drew out the tone.
Making Umbridge more exuberant.
"Perhaps Albus Dumbledore can bury his past from others, but the Ministry of Magic can uncover it. He has attempted more than once to find some way to revive his dead sister..."
Before Umbridge could finish her sentence.
"Bang~"
In the flash of magic, she was blasted away, hitting the wall directly; judging from her mad coughing and spitting of blood, at least a few ribs were broken.
"Shut that filthy mouth of yours!"
The person who acted was actually Snape.
His hands were trembling.
After casting the spell, he kept glancing nervously at Albus Dumbledore. Just now, he noticed a look beneath Dumbledore's half-moon spectacles that sent chills down his spine. As one of the people who knows Dumbledore best, Snape had no choice but to intervene decisively to prevent Dumbledore from losing control.
"Damn it! How dare you attack a Ministry official! Are you all insane?!" The risen Umbridge shrieked hysterically.
However.
The boss she expected to speak on her behalf, Minister Fudge, remained silent, did not speak for her, and did not even reprimand Snape for his attack.
How could he not feel the emotions that Snape could sense? He came to find leverage against Dumbledore, not to provoke him into a deadly confrontation.
"What do you want to do..."
Umbridge realized at some point, Albus Dumbledore had already stood in front of her, his face expressionless but with eyes as sharp as an eagle's.
"You shouldn't be asking what I want to do, but ask yourself, what do you want to do? My respect for the Ministry of Magic is not your capital for making rash statements in front of me."
"If you have no idea what dignity means... I think I can teach you personally." Albus Dumbledore picked up Umbridge's wand, which had fallen to the ground.
He seemingly calmly handed the wand back to Umbridge.
"You were the ones who attacked me first!"
Umbridge's tone was angry, yet she dared not reach out to retrieve her wand, for she noticed that Dumbledore also held a wand in his hand.
At this moment.
Feeling the immense pressure emanating from him, Umbridge feared he might challenge her to a duel in the name of family; she finally remembered who the old man standing before her was.
Albus Dumbledore, not one of those timid characters she usually faced, but the most respected and powerful wizard in the magical world today.
"Is that so?"
Albus Dumbledore stared at Umbridge.
In an instant.
Only feeling her mind involuntarily recalled those deeply buried memories, including those sordid affairs she assumed forgotten.
"I'll give you a chance to say it again."
As if a reminder.
Also like a warning.
The Aurors lowered their heads, the Minister of Magic remained silent, "Lockhart" chuckled, and Snape and Professor McGonagall exchanged a glance with somewhat complex expressions.
The atmosphere on site was quite subtle.
Umbridge wanted to seek help from Fudge, but Fudge and the Aurors pretended to examine Quirrell's corpse, offering no response, leaving her with a chilling sense of isolation.
"No, I accidentally hit the wall myself."
Finally.
Unable to withstand the pressure, Umbridge chose to concede—she knew exactly what she had just experienced, and understood that once her deeply buried sordid secrets were exposed, everything she held would vanish.
"Hmm, be more careful next time."
Dumbledore's tone remained gentle.
He returned Umbridge's wand to her hand and turned to walk toward Quirrell's corpse, leaving a seemingly vulnerable back open to attack.
And yet.
Umbridge lacked the courage to take advantage.
"Did the intelligence you received suggest someone intended to use Quirrell's life to conduct some kind of revival ritual?" Albus Dumbledore crouched by Quirrell's corpse.
"No, no, no, someone, someone attempted to use Quirrell's corpse to conduct some kind of revival ritual." Fudge dared not argue further, promptly unveiling the information he could share.
He was an exceptionally astute politician, and what politicians need most is observation skills; therefore, even if his authority was damaged, he dared not say a word in defense of Umbridge.
After all.
He had realized something deeply unsettling—a Dumbledore who usually prized his reputation no longer cared, an implication capable of stirring uncontrollable anxiety and fear within him.
...
As the farce in the basement drew to a close.
Ian had already reached in front of the Headmaster's Office, the guardian beast statue was never an obstacle to him. He only needed to lift his foot slightly, and the path to the office would be unimpeded.