Hogwarts: I am the White Demon King

Fudge stood stiffly in place, his throat as if stuffed with cotton, unable to utter a single word.

The Voldemort before him looked no different from how he had looked more than ten years ago, except that he was not the Minister for Magic at that time, merely an insignificant nobody in Voldemort's eyes.

Only now did he deeply realize how much pressure there was when facing Voldemort directly.

Fudge really wanted to say forcefully, "Seeing you doesn't make me happy at all," but that thought only flashed for a moment before being thrown to the back of his mind.

His mind raced, thinking about how to escape, but he found that he had absolutely no way out.

His wand, his magic, and the power he relied on most, all seemed so pale and weak in front of Voldemort.

Just then, the fireplace in the distance began to flicker with green flames, and the Aurors, who were originally on vacation, arrived one after another after receiving the urgent notice.

However, after seeing Voldemort in the Ministry of Magic's hall, no one acted rashly, but silently came behind Fudge and stood with him.

Voldemort didn't care about the Ministry of Magic's reinforcements at all. Having just obtained the Elder Wand, he dared to fight Dumbledore, let alone these so-called Aurors.

So, he just raised his hand to signal the Death Eaters not to attack for the time being, and then looked at Fudge with a smile that was not a smile.

"What? Minister, aren't you welcoming our arrival?"

The hall was silent. The Death Eaters surrounded Voldemort, watching Fudge with mocking smiles. Their eyes were filled with fanaticism and contempt, as if they would pounce on him and tear him to pieces in the next second.

The return of the Aurors gave Fudge a glimmer of confidence. He forced himself to stop trembling and squeezed out a sentence with all his strength, his voice weak and hoarse: "You... what do you want to do? This is the Ministry of Magic."

Voldemort put on a warm smile: "Don't be nervous, Minister Fudge. I'm just here today to take my servants back to celebrate Christmas, and also to stop by and say thank you for your long-term cooperation."

Cooperation? Thank you?

Voldemort's words were like a blockbuster, stunning everyone.

Amelia Bones stood in the crowd, listening to Voldemort's words, and recalled Fudge's various actions over the past few months—frantically suppressing Dumbledore, smearing Harry Potter, and resolutely denying the news of the Dark Lord's resurrection.

At first, she only thought that Fudge was extremely stupid, treating a crisis that could endanger the entire wizarding world as a rumor created by political enemies, politicizing it to consolidate his power.

However, now it seems that things are far from that simple.

The meaning in Voldemort's words forced her to think of a more terrifying possibility—Fudge may have really reached some kind of agreement with Voldemort in secret.

Otherwise, his radical behavior and disregard for obvious danger would be difficult to explain.

Perhaps, Fudge had tried to use Voldemort's power to get rid of Dumbledore, but completely underestimated the power and ambition of this Dark Lord. Today's attack on the Ministry of Magic is the best proof.

Fudge's brain was in chaos, and he couldn't understand what Voldemort meant for a while.

What nonsense is the Dark Lord talking about?

When had he ever cooperated with him?

However, Fudge quickly discovered that the wizards who had originally been close to him had now taken a few steps back, their eyes full of doubt and incomprehension.

"Fudge cooperated with the Dark Lord? Did he reach some kind of agreement with him, or did he completely defect to him?"

"No wonder he has been targeting Dumbledore and the Savior."

"No wonder these prisoners escaped from Azkaban so easily."

"I was wondering why Fudge was so diligent, even working on Christmas Day. It turns out he was secretly meeting the Dark Lord here."

The whispers of the Aurors made Fudge realize the seriousness of the matter. His face was pale, and he hurriedly defended himself.

"No! I have never cooperated with him. He wants to provoke us, divide us, yes! It must be so!"

His voice was full of panic, almost pleading. However, his defense failed to quell the doubts of the crowd, but instead deepened the suspicion in their eyes.

"Cornelius Fudge," Voldemort's voice sounded again, with an irresistible pressure, "I admire your ability to manage the Ministry of Magic, and I need someone like you."

"Come, join us, become my Death Eater. With me, you will gain supreme power and display your talents."

Hearing Voldemort's invitation to Fudge, the surrounding Aurors stepped back again, distancing themselves from him. They stared at Fudge with strange eyes, waiting for him to make his final choice.

Under the gaze of the crowd, Fudge was completely numb.

Shouldn't this kind of recruitment be done quietly in private? Now that there are so many people watching, how can I directly agree to your request?

To be honest, Fudge had never thought that he would face such a choice.

Voldemort's proposal seemed tempting, but it contained the threat of death.

What does refusal mean? It means that he might be killed immediately, and even his corpse would become a symbol of Voldemort's victory.

And what about agreeing? He couldn't imagine the pointing fingers, ridicule, and the infamous name of betrayal that would follow his surrender.

What's more, from the first day he became Minister for Magic, he wanted to be a Minister for Magic without any constraints.

Whether it was Dumbledore or the many pure-blood families, he didn't want to be at anyone's beck and call.

So, after taking control of the Ministry of Magic, Fudge began to slowly eliminate Dumbledore's influence, even at the cost of turning against him.

After implementing the tax reform, he began to eliminate the influence of pure-blood families in the Ministry of Magic.

He wanted to leave a strong mark in the history of magic and become a unique Minister for Magic.

Faced with Voldemort's invitation, Fudge was hardly moved at all. He thought very clearly that if he had to find a boss for himself, why not just hug Dumbledore's thigh?

At least, under Dumbledore, he wouldn't have to be obsequious or kiss the hem of robes on the ground.

Joining the Death Eaters not only meant completely betraying the entire wizarding world, but also having to live cautiously, and might even be mercilessly obliterated one day for losing his value.

"Merlin! What should I do?" A desperate cry rang out in Fudge's mind, "Is it to bow down to save my life, or to choose to defend my last dignity in front of everyone?"

The moment of silence stretched endlessly in Fudge's heart. He took a deep breath, and the chaotic thoughts in his mind gradually became clear.

No Minister for Magic has ever surrendered without a fight!

No matter how scared he was, how much he longed to live, he could not accept his name being firmly nailed to the pillar of shame in magical history.

He wanted to preserve his reputation, even if it was only the last bit of remaining dignity.

He was Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic, and although incompetent, he must never become the first Minister for Magic to publicly succumb to the Dark Lord.

Fudge straightened his back, trying to make his voice sound calm and firm.

"No, Dark Lord, I refuse. I will not join you, nor will I betray the wizarding world."

"Do you think you can use threats and violence to make me submit? But you are wrong! As the Minister for Magic, I may have made mistakes, but I will never lead the wizarding world to the abyss of darkness."

A dangerous light flashed in Voldemort's red eyes, and the corners of his mouth slightly raised.

In his opinion, a Minister for Magic was just a small figure. After truly taking over the Ministry of Magic, he could let Yaxley be the Minister for Magic as a reward for him.

However, Voldemort didn't say anything more, but others couldn't help it. Bellatrix raised her eyebrows and shouted madly.

"Damn it, no one can refuse the Master's kindness!"

Saying that, she waved her wand fiercely, and a green curse shot out.

"Avada Kedavra!"