A lone man's tea party
By Ligeila
A shadow stopped in front of his cell. No cold waves of fear and despair followed. He looked up when his name was called. Three men, one of whom he knew.
"Sirius Black"
"Minister"
With a small bang of satisfaction he realized that he could still put so much contempt into one word that it positively tripped with hate. As greetings went he was sure that Fudge was well and truly used to it.
"How do you do, Minister?"
Even politeness could be honed to a knifepoint. His mother would be proud.
"F-fine, fine. How are you?"
Sirius' lips thinned into a smile. By the little startling noise Fudge had not planned on asking him that. Such fun this man was to taunt, his only amusement over the years. Really, Fudge should come more often.
"Oh. Me? I am well. You should come to one of our tea parties, they are such fun. I get to wear a really big hat."
"Uh…"
What an unintelligent man, the carefully prepared joke was so lost on him. Pity to have such fools for company, even if for only once a year. Something caught his eye.
"Is that today's paper?"
He eyed the rolled up newsletter. He could pass the time reading, after all the White Rabbit was always late.
"Could you spare me the paper, Minister? I do ever so miss the crosswords."
"Uh… Sure."
Fudge tossed him the Prophet. It landed just out of his reach but he didn't move to get it just yet. It would no do to show the tremble in his hands. By the look of it Fudge was quite surprised over what he had done.
"Why thank you, Minister."
Nothing is quite as offending as unwavering niceness and his arsenal was rather low on ammunition as of late. Something resembling of defiance lit in his partner's eyes – promising.
"Your cause is lost!"
The words rushed out of the little man's mouth. Sirius could not help but smile. This was proving to be a true highlight of his recent social life. He uncoiled form his cot on the floor. He knew that it must have looked like a skeleton coming to life but that too served its purpose. He rose and even though he was thin as a reed he still managed to loom over Fudge – one more stab of satisfaction. Take you kicks where you can get them, old boy.
"Is that so?"
Had his voice not been so gravely it would have sounded soft and menacing.
"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has fallen!"
How odd – a sign of defiance along side with an open admission of fear.
"If all is well in Denmark, then say his name."
Fudge backed away and the aurors who shadowed him moved forward. But Sirius didn't care. The little man had always offended him with his very presence. How had this small minded man reached so far, he had to wonder?
"Voldemort"
He hissed it out himself. And as if his neighbors in thick walled cells could have heard him they all sopped their little noises and silence fell. How dramatic. Sirius was having the time of his life. He would pay for it later, when dementors returned. But for now…
"He is dead."
One of the aurors. He didn't know this man. Oh well, it seemed that the fight had gone out of the minister. Such pity.
"Not as dead as you would like."
He allowed himself a little evil chuckle before raising his voice so it rang off the walls.
"Have no fear Horatio! The prince will come home!"
He had to have the last word. It seemed that this party was well and truly over. What's a man to do?
"Don't let me keep you, Minister. Have a nice day."
The Minister and his little entourage looked at him baffled. He waived his hand as if giving them a permission to leave. And they did, without saying another word to him. He laughed and laughed to the retreating steps of the Minister of Magic.
He would have to wait several days before the dementors were gone form behind his cell door after they had sucked the last of this day's victory out of him. Then he would find the newspaper on his floor and would open it for the first time.
A/N: Thank you for reading. I know this is short but I hope to finish something longer soon, I clearly have too many things at works.
