This was written for the Charms' Assignment at Hogwarts: write about someone attempting to blend into the background, using the prompt (word) subterfuge.
Also this started as a joke with Lin (MarvelGeek42) who has this amazing MCU/HP crossover called 'Stones of Disaster', and let's just say I accidentally misread that title… Also we were talking about the time I wrote about Umbridge's cats taking over the world, so that probably didn't help either.
Word count: 799
Scones of Disaster
The thing was, nobody had ever expected great things from Cornelius Fudge. Everything about him was average—from his wand ("Good for Charms and Enchantments," Ollivander had simply said, where his mother had had a "temperamental wand, I've heard you've worked wonders with it" and his father a "ah yes, I remember you, a tricky customer, weren't you?" Cornelius hadn't been tricky at all: his wand had been the second one Ollivander had handed him, and that had been that) to his clothes to his appearance.
The only thing Cornelius was really good at, the only skill he had that was truly is and that he could be proud of, was his skill at Potions. No one quite knew where it came from or how it came about—Potions certainly hadn't been a subject he had expected to like from his parents' stories of their own school days, and it wasn't a skill anyone had ever really had in their family.
But even though he was good at Potions, he wasn't great at it either. He could follow a recipe like no other, but as his teacher told when he tried to pursue the curse after his NEWTs, he didn't have the necessary spark to actually make it in the field, to be great.
So yes, all in all, Cornelius was average in pretty much everything. It wasn't all bad though—there was a certain power in being overlooked, in being the last person people expected to see or meet.
The war came and went, and Cornelius let himself melt into the background, everywhere and nowhere all at once, never publicly agreeing or disagreeing with anything or anyone until he had to.
("You could make it in Slytherin," the Hat had told him, but Cornelius had thought of his mother's warm smiles and his father's cold eyes, and asked for Hufflepuff instead)
(maybe he should have listened)
(then again, no one ever saw the Hufflepuffs coming, and that was what Cornelius wanted: for no one to see him rise until it was already too late to do anything to stop him)
He was the one to find Lucius Malfoy, after the man got himself acquitted. Everyone assumed it happened the other way around—even Lucius himself forgot that he hadn't, in fact, approached Cornelius himself after a while—but the truth was that Lucius had money and he was wily, but he needed Cornelius more than Cornelius needed him, even though he was too proud to ever admit it, even to himself.
Politics came easy to Cornelius. It was all a game of pretend, of carefully build subterfuges and almost-lies, and Cornelius had always been good at those, had always been the best at hiding in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike.
This was, he often reflected, what would have made him a good Slytherin. It was simply a shame that so few in that House seemed to share that characteristic, preferring to expose themselves and their ideals much too soon.
Or maybe not—it did mean he had less competition.
Not that there was much of one in the end: weird things happened, you see, to the people Cornelius Fudge didn't like.
(it went like this: Cornelius was good at Potions but he was great at making poisons, and what good politician wouldn't offer his visitors a snack when they dropped by his office?)
(it went like this: perfectly shaped and golden scones, dipped in disaster and seasoned with just a touch of bad luck, served with bitter tea)
(it went like this: his opponents came in and then came out, and then they simply didn't come back)
It was so, so easy to ask for protection when people started to notice what was happening—surely, he told the concerned public, surely someone was trying to sabotage the election and he would be the next victim. It was so, so easy to get Lucius incensed on his behalf in a way that made the man drop more gold into Cornelius' waiting hands.
It was so, so easy to get elected Minister, to finally get the power he deserved.
Cornelius was average, you see, but he was great at being just the right kind of average for people to notice him just the right amount.
It was harder to fade into the background as a Minister, but not by much. Not by much at all, when you had perfected the art of being unnoticeable for years. And it is terribly easy to be average, when no one expects anything great out of you.
(sometimes, the people who came into Cornelius' office walked in and out, and then never came back)
(sometimes, the bodies were found)
(sometimes they weren't)
(but, shh, that's a secret)