Cornelius Fudge fell silent upon hearing Rosier's question.
"To fight to the death for the British Ministry of Magic?"
What a noble slogan! If one of his Aurors shouted such a phrase, Fudge would be more than happy to award them an Order of Merlin.
But if it were him? That required more careful consideration.
Refusing to let Rosier corner him, Fudge responded with defiance:
"Don't get too comfortable! I've already sent messages to the other Ministries of Magic across Europe. I imagine a large number of Aurors are on their way as we speak!"
Rosier, however, showed no hint of fear or surprise. Instead, she looked at Fudge with a touch of pity and replied:
"It seems, Minister Fudge, that you truly don't understand our Pureblood Party."
Fudge thought to himself, Understand? How could I? While you lot were wreaking havoc in the wizarding world, I was still playing with mud pies!
Without waiting for a response, Rosier continued:
"Minister Fudge, I doubt your reinforcements will arrive. Not unless they're willing to completely disregard the International Statute of Secrecy."
A sense of unease began to rise in Fudge. His voice faltered as he asked nervously,
"Good heavens, what have you done?"
Rosier smirked dismissively.
"Oh, nothing much—just a few small spells in some densely populated Muggle areas across Europe. Of course, if those Aurors don't rush to handle the situation, the news will spread uncontrollably, and I doubt anyone will be able to contain it."
She continued with an air of mock contemplation:
"Now, what will they need to do? First, they'll have to Obliviate the Muggles involved. Then, they'll need to repair the damaged streets. If they have enough manpower, perhaps they'll even try to track down our wizards, though catching them would be quite impossible."
"So, the reinforcements you're waiting for, Minister Fudge? I wouldn't count on them arriving anytime soon. Clever, isn't it? A single wizard in each area is enough to tie up dozens of Aurors. A valuable lesson in guerrilla warfare, don't you think?"
Fudge's face turned deathly pale.
"You dare challenge the International Statute of Secrecy?"
Then, as if realizing something, he let out a bitter laugh.
"Of course, I nearly forgot. You Purists would dare…"
Seeing Fudge lapse into silence, a glint of triumph flickered in Rosier's eyes. Deciding to press further, she turned to the wizards behind him and raised his voice:
"Attention, all Purist wizards! I bring new orders from our young master: you are authorized to use the Unforgivable Curses at will!"
"Prepare your spells! I will stand at the forefront and fight beside you—for the greater good!"
Rosier's words exploded like thunder across the battlefield, and in their aftermath, the Purist wizards once again raised their wands. Malice gleamed in their eyes as they stared at the Aurors opposite them.
Meanwhile, Rufus Scrimgeour and his Aurors, though also holding their wands aloft, could not conceal the fear in their expressions. Many of the Ministry's untrained wizards were already in complete disarray.
Unforgivable Curses.
Most of them had never even seen one cast, let alone used one themselves.
Fudge, too, was trembling with disbelief.
"You're mad! All of you are mad!"
Rosier nodded in agreement, a wild grin spreading across her face.
"You're absolutely right. I've been mad since the moment I chose to follow Lord Grindelwald. The wizarding world needs change, and only Grindelwald can bring that change!"
"Every great reformer is called mad in the beginning. But history will prove us to be visionaries, not lunatics!"
Fudge had no interest in debating prophets versus madmen. His face flushed red as he leaned closer to Rosier and whispered,
"Tell me your demands! What does your Pureblood Party want?"
Cowardly though he was, Fudge was no fool. He knew that Rosier's hesitation to issue an outright attack meant there was still room for negotiation.
Rosier feigned surprise.
"Surely my wizards have informed you of our demand? We want the release of the Purist wizards you've arrested!"
Fudge shook his head violently, like a pendulum gone haywire.
"That is absolutely out of the question! If we cave to your threats and release those wizards, the British Ministry of Magic will lose all credibility! I'd not only lose my position as Minister but likely end up in Azkaban!"
He knew that while some in the Ministry might initially rejoice at avoiding a conflict, someone would eventually have to be held accountable—and that someone would be him.
Fudge's rejection, however, seemed to have been anticipated. Rosier pointed behind him with a sly smile.
"Our young master understands your predicament, Minister, and has already thought of a solution. This isn't a threat—it's a trade."
"A trade?"
Fudge glanced at Cedric Diggory, who stood restrained by Auston Greengrass, a mixture of confusion and dread clouding his features.
Rosier nodded.
"Yes, a trade. That young man is a student at Hogwarts and the son of a Ministry wizard. Right now, he's our hostage. As the Minister for Magic, isn't it your duty to save him?"
Fudge now fully understood Rosier's implication.
"I will never bow to you! The British Ministry of Magic will never bow! Every wizard here is prepared to fight to the death to uphold the Ministry's honor!"
With that, Fudge strode purposefully back to his camp, though sweat glistened on his brow.
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