While the officials of the British Ministry of Magic were convening to discuss Lockhart's proposal to establish a new bank, elsewhere—at the manor of the Greengrass family—Auston Greengrass, Lucius Malfoy, and Gilderoy Lockhart were likewise gathered, taking afternoon tea together.
Only, at this moment, Lockhart was clearly on edge. He set his teacup aside, pulled a copy of The Daily Prophet from his robes, slapped it down on the table, and blurted out impatiently:
"Gentlemen, I've already told you—according to the information from Bill Weasley, the Ministry will be holding a discussion and vote on this matter this very afternoon. Aren't you at all inclined to take action?"
At Lockhart's words, Auston Greengrass also set down his teacup, speaking unhurriedly:
"Mr. Lockhart, you must understand—I'm no less invested in this than you are. After all, this is the first time the Master has entrusted me with something so important. And in the Alliance, if you fail a task, you may not even get the chance to make it right."
Lockhart paled. His voice trembled with alarm:
"I'm not a member of your Alliance, am I? Surely your rules don't apply to me?"
Auston shook his head slowly. Seeing this, Lockhart was just beginning to breathe a sigh of relief—when Auston continued:
"For wizards like you, the Alliance doesn't bother setting rules. Usually, it's just a simple Avada Kedavra. Though, you'd best hope the wizard casting it is in a good mood… otherwise, you might be in for a round of Cruciatus first."
At those words, beads of sweat began to form on Lockhart's forehead. Just then, Lucius Malfoy interjected:
"That's enough, Auston. Don't scare him. Mr. Lockhart may be well-known, but he's not from a pure-blood family—certainly no match for us among the Sacred Twenty-Eight. It's no surprise that he's a little rattled by all this."
Lockhart looked like he wanted to retort, but after a moment's hesitation, he merely said coldly:
"So, Lucius Malfoy—you already know what to do?"
Lucius raised his chin, speaking with a touch of disdain:
"Hmph. Then allow me to show you how pure-bloods get things done. Originally, I had another task from Wentworth to attend to. But since we both serve the Alliance, I suppose I don't mind giving you a hand."
Lockhart's delight was immediate. Whatever displeasure he had felt moments earlier vanished, and he began heaping praise on Lucius with little restraint.
Moments later, Lucius casually picked up the Daily Prophet from the table and, upon leaving the Greengrass estate, Apparated directly to the Ministry of Magic.
Meanwhile, as Barty Crouch Sr. finished speaking, the entire room fell silent. His own authority aside, no one present wished to bear the blame for instigating a conflict between wizards and goblins.
Almost immediately, the hall erupted again in hushed chaos. Ministry officials gathered in small groups, whispering and debating the implications.
Several stood and publicly voiced their support for Barty Crouch.
Among them was Scrimgeour, Head of the Auror Office, who also rose and said:
"I agree with Director Crouch. We Aurors do not shy away from battle—but we do oppose pointless battles. Especially now—we're not ready to face both the Alliance and the goblins at the same time."
Scrimgeour's words were the final straw. Many of the undecided Ministry officials now firmly sided with Crouch.
Barty Crouch, watching the proceedings calmly from his seat, looked entirely unsurprised—as though everything was proceeding exactly as he had anticipated.
At the head of the room, Cornelius Fudge watched the murmuring crowd below, then turned his gaze to Crouch, who wore an air of quiet confidence. A flicker of displeasure passed through Fudge's eyes.
After all, Barty Crouch was Fudge's true political rival. If it hadn't been for the disgrace of Barty Crouch Jr. joining the Death Eaters and confessing his crimes, Crouch's standing might have ensured that the position of Minister for Magic had never gone to Fudge in the first place.
Just then, Crouch turned to Fudge, his face expressionless, and said:
"Minister Fudge, I suggest you issue the order to inform Lockhart that now is not the time to establish a so-called 'Central Bank of the Wizarding World.' The Ministry of Magic will not support such an endeavor."
Fudge clenched his jaw, fury bubbling just beneath the surface. He was just about to confront Crouch—demanding who, exactly, was in charge of the Ministry—when Umbridge stepped forward and bent close to whisper in his ear:
"Minister, Lucius Malfoy has just arrived. He requests an audience with you."
Fudge exhaled deeply. Then, he addressed the room:
"I have a matter that requires my immediate attention. As for Lockhart's proposal—everyone, give it more thought. We'll decide tomorrow."
Without waiting for a response, he stood and left quickly.
When Fudge reached his office, he threw the door open with such force that it startled Lucius Malfoy, who had just been about to rise to greet him.
Lucius blinked, then offered a sly smile:
"Now who could have provoked the kindest Minister in the history of the Ministry into such a foul mood?"
Fudge shook his head with a bitter smile.
"Lucius, please—not now. Today has been… Merlin, it's hard to even explain. I'm at my wit's end! Come then, what brings you here today?"
Lucius chuckled and glanced toward Umbridge, who stood by the door. She did not wait for Fudge to speak—discreetly excusing herself and closing the door behind her.
With the room secure, Lucius reached into his elegant briefcase and produced a copy of The Daily Prophet, handing it to Fudge.
Fudge accepted it knowingly. As he took the paper, he felt the familiar stiffness of something concealed within—heavier than usual. Weighing it thoughtfully in his hand, Fudge's face broke into a pleased smile.
"Mr. Malfoy, you always know exactly what I need. There's nothing I enjoy more than reading the news—I could read the Prophet all day long."
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