Short
Written for The Houses Competition, Year Two, Round Five.
House: Hufflepuff
Year: 5
Category: Short
Prompts: [Speech] "Huh, and you actually believed him/her/them?"
Wordcount: 748 (Google Docs)
Betas: to Blue Rose and Zoe, Thank you for your eyes!
Title: Tell Me, Minister Fudge, What Is the Truth?
Summary: Cornelius Fudge, after the Battle of the Department of Mysteries
Cornelius Fudge paced back and forth in his office. He took off his lime green bowler hat and rubbed the top of this rumpled grey hair nervously.
"What have I done, what have I done?" he muttered to himself. "It's real, it's all real… I have been a fool!"
His assistant came rushing in, a wiry fellow who had need to adjust his crooked spectacles. "Minister! I just heard. What can I do?"
The Minister of Magic stopped pacing and looked his assistant in the eye. "He is alive. I saw him myself. I… I can't believe… my word..." He resignedly hung his bowler hat onto the hat rack by the door and fell into his chair behind his desk, his head in his hands.
A pile of Daily Prophet newsprints lay on his desk, all but shouting the headlines of his own making:
Wizard Prison Blunder
He'd insisted that they had done it on their own. Even though it was nigh impossible for anyone to break out of Azkaban, they'd had no outside help. Just look at that picture of Sirius Black. Anyone could see that he was insane.
Dumbledore, Daft or Dangerous?
Albus Dumbledore had been after his position, hadn't he? He was the most powerful wizard in Britain and a man like that would only be interested in more power. Never mind the fact that he'd been a confidant, a good source of advice ever since Cornelius came into office. No man should have that much influence over the people, right?
The Boy Who Lies?
At the time, the boy's noise had to be shut down. It wasn't doing the public any good to listen to the nonsense. The whole idea of Voldemort coming back from the dead needed to be shut down. All it would have created was a messy side show of speculation and panic. But now he could hear his greatest critics whispering in the wings.
'He said it was all lies!'
'Huh, and you actually believed him?'
'Cornelius Fudge doesn't know his head from his arse!'
Fabrications of his own making stared up at him in garish black and white block lettering. While he had been 'keeping the peace' and 'avoiding unnecessary mass panic', the real threat had festered in the shadows, unchecked, growing in strength and numbers while he'd done nothing to stop it.
With one swift movement, he swiped the entire collection of news rubbish off of his desk. The pile of parchment landed with a dull thud into the dust bin at his feet. This was the end. His reputation, his career… perhaps the end of the Ministry itself.
"What have I done? What have I done?"
He reached for his quill and stared at the blank parchment in front of him. How was he going to tell them all? What was he going to do?
"Minister?"
Cornelius looked up and stared into the assistant's wary eyes. This smart young man had loyally glued himself to the Ministry for a solid two years. He'd been so young and inexperienced when Cornelius had chosen him as an assistant. But the bloke had shown great fortitude, even when he'd been shunned by his own family over Cornelius's own stance that there was no imminent threat to the Wizarding World, save a few Death Eater sympathizers.
Damn, but the boy's father, that Arthur Weasley had been right all along. Dumbledore had been telling the truth… everyone. Instead of giving them their due, he'd slandered and lied, and put that poor boy Potter in a terrible position…
His assistant cleared his throat impatiently. "They're waiting for you downstairs. The Prophet. The Quibbler. Even the Owl Post Review. They said they'll give you five minutes before they go off to gather their own facts about the matter."
"No. I'm coming." He'd better get this over with. Too many people had suffered from his ignorance for too long.
With shaking fingers, he set down his quill and stood. He reached out to gather his hat, but then thought better of it. It was too late to shield himself, or anyone else, from the truth any longer.
"Let's get this over with." Cornelius ruffled his grey hair again and turned off the desk lamp. He had to face the facts and inform the people. No longer could he indulge in his own self-protection. He looked back over the darkened room, his Office, and then resolutely closed the door on the future of his Ministry career.