Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 914: The Split Ministry of Magic

That evening, after finishing his classes, Snape didn’t stay at Hogwarts as he usually did. Instead, he returned to his home on Spinner’s End.

“You’re finally back, Severus...” Narcissa Malfoy sat on the sofa, sobbing uncontrollably. Lucius was beside her, his face pale.

The moment they saw Snape, both of them stood and rushed over.

Ever since news of Dumbledore’s death had spread throughout the wizarding world, the Death Eaters assigned to monitor them had vanished. They had once again earned the Dark Lord’s trust and were free to go wherever they pleased.

Voldemort himself had even come in person, showering Draco with praise for his courage and cunning.

But Lucius and Narcissa felt nothing but a chilling dread. They knew all too well—being praised by the Dark Lord was never a good thing.

Still, that wasn’t their most urgent concern. They had something far more important on their minds.

“Well? Severus?” Lucius asked tensely. “Have you heard anything from Draco?”

“You came back so suddenly—you must’ve done it, right?” Narcissa looked at Snape with hope in her eyes.

“There was a bit of a complication...” Snape hesitated, but as he looked at the despair deepening in their expressions, he sighed.

“All right. Listen—Draco is with me.”

A gasp of overwhelming relief escaped Narcissa’s lips as she clutched at her chest, overcome with emotion. Her body suddenly went limp and she collapsed onto the floor.

Lucius didn’t move to help her. He was barely holding himself together as it was. The only difference was that he was still on his feet.

“Thank Merlin,” Lucius Malfoy whispered, a smile appearing on his face for the first time in months.

“Thank you... Severus, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” Snape said, shaking his head. “Like I said, there was a complication.”

“What do you mean?” Lucius tensed again. “Is Draco all right?”

“He’s fine. It’s not about that.” Snape paused, clearly weighing his words.

“Honestly, I had been thinking about rescuing Draco. But it was only a thought…”

“You both understand—after killing Dumbledore so openly at school, neither Hogwarts nor the Ministry would ever let him go. Saving him should’ve been nearly impossible.”

“But you did it, Severus,” Narcissa said gratefully. “The best decision we ever made was choosing you to be Draco’s godfather.”

“That wasn’t me,” Snape said quietly. “Or rather, I didn’t get the chance to do anything. Draco showed up in my office on his own.”

“What?” Lucius blinked in disbelief. “You mean... Draco escaped by himself?”

“Lucius, has the Cruciatus Curse scrambled your mind?” Snape walked over and sat down at the table. “After his wand was confiscated, Draco not only defeated Flitwick—the one guarding him—but also managed to avoid all the castle’s ever-watchful portraits and make it to my office undetected.”

“Do you really think that’s possible?”

“Absolutely not,” Lucius said without hesitation.

Not even he could manage something like that, let alone Draco.

Defeating Professor Flitwick silently was no small feat. There were only a handful of wizards in the entire magical world capable of such a thing.

A Duelling Champion didn’t earn that title with a bag of Galleons. That goblin professor could go a few rounds even against the Dark Lord himself.

Could it have been Voldemort who helped him...?

Impossible.

The thought barely surfaced before Lucius crushed it. Voldemort helping Draco? That was even more unbelievable than Draco escaping on his own. It simply wasn’t possible.

“Then who helped Draco?”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be wasting my breath with all this.” Snape cast a glance at Lucius.

“That…” Lucius looked a little embarrassed.

“Don’t mind him, Severus.” Narcissa, having regained some strength, stood up from the floor. “Can you tell us what happened?”

“I was at the funeral when I suddenly sensed someone had triggered the magic I’d set on the private storeroom, so I rushed over.”

Snape recalled the events of a few days ago. “When I opened the door, I saw Draco lying on the table—alone. There wasn’t a soul around.”

“And the enchantments I had placed were still perfectly intact, as if someone had deliberately triggered them just to draw my attention.”

Snape’s expression darkened. These events slipping out of his control left a sour, unsettling feeling in his chest.

“Does Draco remember anything?” Narcissa asked. “Maybe he saw something.”

“He remembers nothing,” Snape said with a shake of his head. “When he woke up, he didn’t even realize he’d been moved.”

“Could it be that there’s someone else at Hogwarts...” Narcissa trailed off, hesitating to finish her thought.

She’d been about to suggest that there might be another Death Eater hiding within the school. But thinking it through, if it were that easy to get into Hogwarts, the Dark Lord wouldn’t value Snape’s position so highly.

And besides, with the way those people operated, they’d never risk themselves to help another Death Eater.

But aside from that explanation, she couldn’t imagine who else would have helped Draco.

Ever since he killed Dumbledore, nearly every witch and wizard wanted him dead. Only people like them would even consider helping him.

“I’ve been investigating the matter for days, but I still haven’t found a single lead.”

Snape ignored the shifting expressions on Narcissa’s face and continued, “I only came to tell you that Draco is alive. Don’t worry too much.”

“Focus on your tasks now. Your own situation isn’t much better than Draco’s.”

“I know...” Narcissa said softly. “Severus, can you bring Draco—”

“No.” Snape cut her off without hesitation.

“We just want to see him.”

“Then my advice is: don’t.”

Snape spoke curtly. “The Aurors and Hogwarts professors have never stopped looking for Malfoy. Just coming here was already a massive risk—I had to pass through three separate checks.”

“And right now, the safest place for Draco is with me.”

“I... all right, then.”

“Thank you, Severus.”

Narcissa and Lucius exchanged a glance.

They hadn’t dismissed the possibility that Snape could be lying. Until they saw Draco with their own eyes, everything he said could still be false.

But they had no alternatives. Whether out of trust or desperation, they had no choice but to believe him.

“What should we do now?” Lucius asked.

“Keep serving the Dark Lord, of course,” Snape said coldly, shooting him a sharp look. “Do I really need to spell that out for you?”

“Lucius, the Dark Lord has already shown you more mercy than you deserve. If Draco hadn’t bought you another chance, you’d have suffered far more than a Cruciatus Curse.”

“Yes, of course.” Whatever little color had returned to Lucius’s face vanished instantly.

He looked conflicted, as though he wanted to say more, but in the end, it all came out as a heavy sigh.

“I understand. I’ll cooperate with Rodolphus. Once we take Hogwarts, we’ll finally be able to see Draco again, won’t we?”

“Of course.” Snape lifted his head and gave him a quick look. “As long as those damned Aurors withdraw from the school, I’ll be able to get Draco out.”

Lucius’s eyes lit up.

“What? You’ve got a way?” Snape looked at him, intrigued.

“Me? Of course not,” Lucius said. “But if it’s the Aurors we’re talking about... I don’t think they’ll be too focused on guarding the school much longer.”

“Oh? What do you mean?”

“The Dark Lord’s running out of patience with Bones. He’s planning to replace her with someone more obedient.”

Narcissa added, “Once the Ministry falls, the entire British wizarding world will be under the Dark Lord’s control. We’ll have plenty of time to deal with Hogwarts.”

She looked far more at ease now, even faintly excited. “When that day comes, Draco won’t need to hide anymore. He’ll be hailed as a hero.”

“Let’s hope so,” Snape murmured.

...

Late at night, after Lucius and Narcissa had left, Snape was alone in the house.

Those who loved potions rarely liked bright spaces, and Snape was no exception. His home was lit only by a single dim oil lamp.

He sat there in silence, lost in thought. The lamp’s glow lit one half of his face, while the other half was swallowed by shadow.

To avoid arousing suspicion from the Aurors, Snape returned to Hogwarts early the next morning, just before breakfast. He brought along a group of Cornish Pixies.

After all, his excuse for leaving had been to gather teaching supplies—he couldn’t very well come back empty-handed. These were simply a convenient purchase along the way.

The school was much the same as before: the mood was heavy, the professors still taught and marked assignments as usual, but the number of students was steadily dwindling.

During breakfast, Snape discreetly set aside some food to take back to Draco Malfoy.

He hadn’t lied to Lucius and Narcissa—Draco really was hidden in his storeroom.

But just because things were calm at Hogwarts didn’t mean the outside world was the same.

Ever since Dumbledore’s death, the Death Eaters had come crawling out of the shadows like Doxies in spring, flooding the streets.

The war had gone public—an open blaze, much like the chaos after the Quidditch World Cup.

In the days that followed, the Ministry of Magic was attacked twice. Though both assaults were fended off by Amelia Bones and Scrimgeour with the help of the Aurors, that didn’t mean the threat had passed.

After the second attack, the Director of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes publicly declared his support for Voldemort taking control of the Ministry.

A furious Scrimgeour nearly killed the traitor on the spot. But to everyone’s shock, the Department of Magical Games and Sports and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement both followed suit—voicing their allegiance as well.

Even more startling was the number of supporters they had behind them.

Amelia Bones’s expression was grim. She suddenly remembered how, since Dumbledore’s funeral, there had been frequent personnel transfers throughout the Ministry.

She hadn’t paid it much mind. Dumbledore was gone, and fear of the Dark Lord had driven many to flee abroad. She couldn’t expect everyone to stay and fight—not when she didn’t even have the authority to stop them.

So, her attention had remained fixed on the Aurors and Hit Wizards. The rest, she hadn’t scrutinized too closely.

She hadn’t expected this…

“Minister, surely you’re not thinking of dismissing us. And Scrimgeour… are you planning to kill us?”

Bartok, the head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, stood opposite Amelia, seemingly speaking on behalf of the others. Strangely, his expression looked oddly vacant.

“You’d best think carefully. The Death Eaters aren’t far from here.”

“Damn you—is that a threat?” Scrimgeour growled.

“Not a threat,” Bartok replied in a flat tone. “Just a difference in ideals. After all, we didn’t take advantage of the Death Eaters’ attack to ambush you. We’re still part of the Ministry.”

“What’s the difference?” Scrimgeour’s face darkened to a purplish shade.

“There’s a big one,” Bartok said. “It’s the difference between who draws blood from their own side first.”

“I don’t care,” Scrimgeour spat. “Do you Death Eaters still care about appearances?”

“Well, we are planning to take over the Ministry, and a bad reputation wouldn’t help.” Bartok forced a rigid smile.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t considered it.

In fact, back when Scrimgeour was fighting alongside the Aurors against the Death Eaters, Bartok had already been preparing to switch sides.

But before he could act, they were discovered.

While he and the others had been plotting their move, Chris—the Director of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures—had stumbled in and exposed everything.

And the man had bolted fast, leaving Bartok no time to silence him.

So, Bartok—or more accurately, the Death Eater controlling him—had been forced to scrap the original plan and go with the backup: stepping forward now.

“Don’t even dream about it!” Amelia Bones stepped forward, eyes sweeping across the traitors. “As long as I’m here, you’ll never succeed.”

After a long period of recruitment and preparation, the Ministry’s combat forces had grown into a formidable unit.

Amelia’s gaze shifted to the Director of Magical Law Enforcement across from her, and she silently thanked her past self for transferring command of the Hit Wizards from that department to the Minister’s Office.

At the time, the new director hadn’t yet been compromised. Although he hadn’t liked the change, he hadn’t resisted much either, so the transition had gone smoothly.

Looking back now, if the Death Eaters had ended up with command of the Hit Wizards, their entire force might have been wiped out before they even realized it.

“Bones, I really suggest you surrender to the Dark Lord,” Bartok continued to press. “You could remain Minister of Magic without any consequences. Isn’t that a fair deal?”

“You’re like a squashed leech—repulsive,” Bones snapped, glaring at him without the slightest pretense of civility. “Why don’t you crawl out of your sewer and say that to my face!”

“What a shame, Bones.” Bartok fell silent, merely standing there, eyes fixed on her.

In an instant, the vast Ministry of Magic was split into two clear factions.

The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and the Department of Magical Games and Sports had aligned with the Death Eaters—though most were likely under the Imperius Curse.

Opposing them stood the Department of International Magical Cooperation, the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, and the Department of Magical Transportation.

It was a clean fifty-fifty divide.

Notably, Bartemius Crouch—who had been scapegoated and sidelined by Fudge after the Sirius Black affair—was still around.

Or rather, he had never left.

Ever since his quiet reassignment to the Department of Magical Transportation, he’d completely faded from public attention. He hadn’t protested Fudge’s actions, nor had he attempted a comeback. He clocked in and out each day like clockwork, staying so low-profile that most had nearly forgotten he existed.

And now, once again, he stood on the side opposing the Death Eaters.

On the surface, with the Minister herself and the Head of the Auror Office present, the Ministry side appeared to have the upper hand.

But the very moment the Ministry split, it was already a sign they’d lost.

Scrimgeour was seething, gripping his wand tightly and rubbing it between his fingers. He was on the verge of launching an attack—until the Minister stopped him.

Bones didn’t dare take that gamble. She had no idea what the Death Eaters might do if open conflict broke out. Would they take the opportunity to strike again?

Killing the traitors wasn’t difficult. But what if Voldemort took it personally and appeared in the flesh?

At the very least, the Aurors and Hit Wizards were still under her command. That gave them the upper hand for now—and possibly some breathing room.

Two back-to-back assaults had already worn down their forces significantly.

These people would have to be dealt with—but not yet.

If it came down to a battle of strategy, Bones was confident she wouldn’t lose to a few Death Eaters. One way or another, the Ministry would return to the right path.

...

In the main hall, the two sides faced off, neither willing to budge. Chris stood between them, his expression grim.

He was thankful he’d taken a few precautionary measures against infiltrators; it was those that had allowed him to uncover Bartok’s betrayal in time.

He also remembered the Death Eaters who had appeared in St. Catchpole two days ago. If he hadn’t reacted quickly—and if not for the help of a few close allies—he would probably be standing on the opposite side right now, under the Imperius Curse.

No... if he’d been controlled, and no one else in the Ministry had uncovered Bartok’s plot, there might not have been any negotiations to begin with.

He rubbed his forehead, irritated.

He wasn’t the only one. Arthur, Molly, Kingsley, Charlie, and other members of the Order of the Phoenix had all been attacked as well. They’d now moved back into 12 Grimmauld Place.

Arthur had discovered that the protective enchantments around the house were still intact. It seemed Dumbledore had changed the Secret Keeper ahead of time.

After moving in, they discussed who it might be.

Charlie thought it was Kyle.

His reasoning was that Kyle had been extremely close to Dumbledore and was the first to arrive after the incident. If Dumbledore had acted fast enough, he could have passed the Secret Keeper role on to him.

But Molly and Arthur leaned more toward Minerva McGonagall. They believed the headmistress’s calm, steady nature made her the more reliable choice.