A/N: Comps and Prompts at the bottom. No spoilers up here.

for the good of wizarding britain

AlwaysPadfoot

Working late was no bother to me. The war was worth staying late for. It was for the good of Wizarding Britain. Day by day it was getting harder and harder to do the job. You-Know-Who's forces seemed to be growing stronger. People were scared; they were dying. Being Minister was not easy; it never was going to be. I wished these weren't the circumstances in which I gained the post, but I would fight until my last breath.

My eyes snapped upwards as a cold breeze blew through the office. Stiffening slightly, I stood and briskly approached my cabinet. Removing my finest whisky and a crystal glass, I poured myself a large neat drink and studied the door. Even now I could sense that something was going on. It wouldn't matter if whoever they were dislodged my door in the next five seconds, or the next five minutes; I was always prepared.

Sometimes I wondered whether people understood that I had been a highly trained Auror. Alastor and I had ridden half the scum that had plagued Britain in the First Wizarding War. I was not going down without a fight.

I swallowed the glasses content in one deep gulp and drew the back of my hand across my roughly shaven face. My eyes fell on the door; shadows were being cast across the office through the gap at the bottom. With a wave of my hand, I extinguished the lamps in the room and lifted the silencing charm on the door. I stood back, moving into the natural shadows of the room, and waited.

"He's still in there?"

"Of course, the crazy old bastard doesn't usually leave until way after eleven."

I only recognised the second voice; it was one of an old school enemy - Wilhelm Yaxley. A hiss of infuriation left my lips, Yaxley should be in Azkaban, where I put him twenty-five years ago.

"Ready?"

My wand was already in hand; I was very ready. I'd been ready for years to wipe this man from the face of the planet. I crouched slightly into a fighting stance, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I was no old dog yet.

The office door was blown clear off its hinges and five cloaked figures flooded into the room.

"Where the fuck is he?"

Immediately as the gruff voice spoke, my arm recoiled and shot a bombarda spell at the ceiling above the group. Someone swore loudly and two of the men were knocked out cold by the falling debris. Throwing up a shield, I avoided the brunt of three stunning spells and managed to slide behind the desk.

"You're quite agile for an old man, Scrimgeour."

"I promised you that one day I would eradicate you from this world, Yaxley." I spat, plotting my next three moves just in case. "You're making a grave mistake."

"Then come out, come out and face me."

"My pleasure," I hissed.

I upturned the desk and blasting it towards the group. Scrambling to my feet, I waved my wand in circles at the space where the door had once been. The man on the left of Yaxley was sucked back through the door and disappeared from sight. A blast of green narrowly missed me. I growled and sent a Reducto curse straight back at the man. Unfortunately, he deflected it and it completely destroyed my whisky cabinet.

"Now that just wasn't very nice; that's a fine whisky." I tutted sarcastically.

I shot off several more spells, keeping my eyes on both my attackers as all sorts of curses flew around the room. Eventually, I managed to get a direct hit in the other man's chest with a, particularly nasty Reducto. Yaxley and I froze for a second as the man's ribs cracked inwards and he began to splutter up blood, falling hard against the wall behind him.

At that moment whilst I was distracted Yaxley caught me, stupidly, off guard. A spell sliced across my shoulder, making me stumble backwards slightly. I gritted my teeth and threw the same hex back. Yaxley danced out of the way of it.

"Oh, Minister Scrimgeour, you seem to have lost your panache." Yaxley drawled.

I sneered, throwing every spell under the sun at him, desperate for revenge.

Then I finally made my last mistake.

Yaxley made the unmistakable change from basic duelling spells to the cruciatus curse. The bright red light smashed through my unsatisfactory shield and knocked me off my feet. I shouldn't have been temperamental. It took all my effort to bear the burning spreading across my body, making it convulse against my will, and forcing me to bite down on my lip to stop from shouting out. I just had to wait for him to stop, and with twenty-five years to brood in Azkaban over our last meeting, it could be a long time to wait.

What felt like forever and a day later, I curled forward breathing heavily, unable to move much further than that position.

Finally, Yaxley had relented with the cruciatus curse, but since then my wand had been taken and reinforcements had arrived. However, even though I remained pretty much completely and utterly screwed, I wasn't going to give up. Not now; not ever. I would fight to the end, whether that be in two minutes or two decades. Through my years as an Auror, that motto had been cemented into my mind, but even previous to that, my own father had taught me to stand up to the scum that had crawled out from the depths of hell.

Somebody hauled me onto my knees and I swore roughly under my breath.

"Let go," I said calmly, dangerously to the person whose hands were pinning me down on my knees.

I was still Minister.

Of course, I wasn't naive enough to believe that I would continue being so after tonight. Even if I weren't Minister, I would not act differently. This was a war. I would go down fighting, with bravery and honour.

I lifted my chin, my expression set in stone, calm and ruthless. If I got even a few seconds to get my hands on Yaxley, with or without a wand, I'd take that opportunity in a heartbeat. He looked ever so smug, one leg crossed over the other, sat on the overturned desk from the duel previous.

"Are you feeling confident, Scrimgeour?" Yaxley smirked to himself as if knew something I did not. I wouldn't doubt that he did indeed know something I had yet to find out.

My eyes moved coldly to his."I sincerely hope you're feeling confident, Wilhelm."

His eyes narrowed at my use of his forename and I raised one thick eyebrow at him. He decided not to amuse me with a reply, which seemed a shame. In light of the situation, it would have been greatly amusing to see what mediocre replies he could summon to the forefront of his mind.

I let my eyes scan the room, without even moving my head, searching for anything of use. I found my wand had been placed next to the unbroken whisky bottle and the glass I had left on the side. My first thought was to summon it silently. However, the cruciatus curse had weakened me and retrieving it unnoticeably would be more desirable than having it shoot straight in front of Yaxley.

The door was still lying discarded on the floor and outside I could see several people who should be under the highest security in Azkaban.

I kept my composure straight, my eyes narrowing ever so slightly at the riffraff that now occupied my office. For a second I did wonder why nothing appeared to be going on, but as I continued to analyse my surroundings I realised that we appeared to be waiting for something.

"Dare I ask what, or whom, we are waiting for?" I said nonchalantly.

I flexed my hands very slightly to test my ability to move after a rather lengthy exposure to the cruciatus curse. It had been a long while since I'd been subjected to a curse quite as hateful as Yaxley's had just been. He half-chuckled, half-smirked after I spoke.

"Sorry, I wasn't aware I'd made a joke," I added coldly.

"I'd almost forgotten that serious was your middle name," Yaxley commented with mild disinterest. "Well, Rufus, someone really wants to talk to you."

I didn't even twitch at the mention of my name. "How can that certain someone be sure I want to speak to them?"

Yaxley's dark eyes fell to mine, a smirk upon his lips as he contemplated his answer and re-adjusted his ascot very briefly.

"You don't have any choice, Minister."

"No, of course not, you wouldn't have broken into my office otherwise." I retorted with a roll of my eyes. "How stupid of me to not figure out the connotations of your actions."

Yaxley made a noise of annoyance at my response and I finally got annoyed enough to shrug off the hands on my shoulders.

"I'm not going anywhere am I?" I said coolly, without even turning to whoever was behind me.

Reluctantly they let go and I brushed my shoulders slightly. As a warning, I felt the sharp jab of someone's wand in the back of my head and I frowned slightly, yet remained stationary.

My attention returned to the doorway when it was filled by none other than Rabastan Lestrange.

"We're in control, Yaxley."

"Very well," he responded. "Call the Dark Lord."

Comp/Challenge & Prompts:

Insane House Challenge: 156. Location - The Ministry of Magic

365 House Challenge: 172. Job - Minister of Magic

Going Going Gone: Plot point: Not letting someone down.

Writing Club [Book Club]: Mad Sweeney: (word) temperamental, (word) mistake, (action) fighting

Writing Club [Showtime]: 1. Overture - write a different POV of a canon event

Writing Club [AAA]: 13. Garbage Bears - Emotion: Hatred

Writing Club [Lo's Lowdown]: 11. T'Challa: write about someone who wants revenge.

Word Count: 1613 — not inc. notes, titles, or ANs.