(During Chapter 23)

It hadn't been long into Cornelius Fudge's term as Minister for Magic that he had discovered that an excellent start to a day almost inevitably meant it would become terrible before noon. For example, the last time he had woken feeling this cheerful it had been the day of the Quiddich World Cup and that had ended terribly with the appearance of the Dark Mark and a following death eater rally. Only months before that, Bones had promised that her best auror was on the point of bringing in Black in the morning, only for the afternoon report to inform him that they had falsely imprisoned a member of house Black for twelve years without a trial! Of course, that one had been a particularly precarious situation because the reason Black was imprisoned in the first place was due to a testimony from none other than Dumbledore. The scapegoat had been, eventually, old Crouch. Just when everyone thought old Barty could not fall lower...

Fudge glared up at the beautifully shining sun, wondering which of the high risk, potentially disastrous events today would go wrong. Perhaps he would stutter whilst awarding the trophy, or even end up having to award the trophy to the French. Oh, how he hated that dreary minister who always stood upon prehistoric protocol and made Cornelius feel like a bumbling fool whenever they met.

Oh yes, he decided. It would almost certainly be the Tournament; it was already a disaster, what with the underage Boy-Who-Lived competing in Nurmengard's colours of all things. By now, even the Ministry workers weren't shy to wear Grindelwald's insignia on their robes, claiming it was support for Potter. He'd heard endless grumblings from the Bulgarian minister about the matter and the Norwegians were none too happy either.

At least, looking at the positives, it was a very public demonstration of how Dumbledore was losing control of even his students. Honestly, before his election, Cornelius would never have imagined looking forwards to his own school's defeat at such a prestigious event, but the circumstances would be rather beneficial to him if the Potter boy took the trophy. Dumbledore's champion would lose, discrediting him - even though a British wizard still wins, reflecting positively on Cornelius.

Of course, Durmstrang wouldn't be too terrible an outcome either; Krum was very popular after that spectacular catch at the World Cup and having Nurmengard's champion defeated by the Bulgarian might perhaps smooth some of the ruffled feathers from up that way. Then there was Amos Diggory's son... Fudge waved the thought away. When had a Hufflepuff won in any sort of a competition? In his experience, all of them were too soft for victory.

He shook his head, deciding that however unlikely it must be a French win, that would be how this day was ruined and he'd have to congratulate that French minister.

.

He shook hands with all three headmasters: with Igor Karkaroff who was a pardoned death eater, with Olympe Maxime who was (as Skeeter had recently found out) a half-breed, and with Dumbledore whom Fudge simply defined as the enemy. The formalities completed, he proceeded to the highest stand from where he could see over the entire maze. With a frown, he noted the very centre of the maze was surrounded by hedges so high that even from this prime spot he couldn't see inside. Perhaps the designers had decided it would add to the suspense.

The original plan had been to hold the task at sunset, but the lure of a potential day off had ensured the idea was almost unanimously vetoed in favour of holding it during the daytime, where people would be able to see all the action. It was good, he decided, to be able to see this task; the last one had been less than fascinating to spectate, which had made the organisers rather unpopular.

He wondered where Lucius had gotten to; his closest advisor had threatened to boycott the Tournament after Potter was allowed to compete despite being underage, without the same opportunity being extended to his Draco. Of course, as soon as he had revealed that the first task would be dragons the pureblood had quickly changed his stance.

The monster Maxime was chatting amicably with the Hogwarts gamekeeper. Dumbledore was talking with his allies from the ICW, and the Minister couldn't help a wave of relief that at least Grindelwald was not allowed to join the spectators. (Whoever had brought that up must have been out of his mind, but the idea was terrifying still.) Karkaroff was sitting next to a Hogwarts teacher, Cherry or what was her name. The former muggle torturer and the current muggle studies teacher had attracted all the media attention, they were the tabloids' favourite lovebirds during the Tournament.

.

His premonition was proven right. He had read reports that He Who Must Not Be Named was still alive and becoming active, but he had dismissed those warnings. However, even he could no-longer dismiss that when the dark wizard was levitated out of the maze, stunned and bound, by a very shaken looking Harry Potter. Diggory carried the cup (which was a bad enough result without the aforementioned dark lord) and was proclaimed winner whilst Potter was just happy to see You-Know-Who handed over to the authorities.

As the head of said authorities, Fudge was far less relieved when Bones and Kingsley cast their own ropes around the still unconscious, skeletal, slightly grey and snake-faced prisoner. He most certainly did not want to be responsible for holding him; the precedent for being a minister holding a dark wizard was not good.

"His snake got away," Potter shared, still out of breath. "So did Pettigrew, I think. I'm not sure."

Dumbledore arrived a moment before the Minister could have had his photo taken with the defeated and unconscious You Know Who, and by the time the headmaster was done congratulating both his champions (that was literally what he had the guts to call the young men) He Who Must Not Be Named started to stir awake. Despite the full boy bind hex and the conjured ropes, he was still horrifying and lethally dangerous, so the Minister moved to the victor's podium and congratulated Diggory. That was his task here, not bothering with dark wizards! Even if Potter's catch happened to be the most feared wizard in Britain's history.

"The Cup was a portkey," Cedric quickly stated in the half second the Minister took a breath. "I don't know who made it but it took us to a graveyard somewhere..."

"The Ministry might be able to locate it, my Trace is still active and I used magic in a muggle place," Potter added.

Shacklebolt nodded. "We will see to that. The portkey was set by May-Eye, he's in custody until we find out more."

"Proudfoot and Tonks are on it," added Savage. "Sirs, what are we going to do with Vol... with Potter's catch?"

"My bodyguard's Kiss will sort him out," Fudge happily replied.

"No, sir," Potter argued. "It wouldn't work. He used dark magic to ensure his survival."

"Darker than a dementor's kiss?" Dawlish joined them. "Impossible!"

"I'm afraid Mr Potter is right," Dumbledore stepped closer. "Voldemort performed the most heinous deed magic is capable of, and I have reason to believe he did so more than once. In his unfathomably twisted state, a dementor tearing out what's left of his soul wouldn't incapacitate him."

"But I'm sure Wohl will know what to do with him!" Potter's face lit up.

Wohl, Wohl, that sounded like a name the Minister of Magic had heard before.

"You mean Grindelwald," Bones nodded. How could she stay this calm? He Who Must Not Be Named had just been left on the Ministry's figurative doorstep and the boy who'd done so was now claiming there was nothing more they could do!

Potter enthusiastically agreed with the Head of Department of Magical Law Enforcement. "If anyone knows dark magic, it's him. But you'll need him to be here for that..."

That sudden gleam in Dumbledore's eyes... What could that mean?

"Legally, that's doable," Dawlish mused aloud. "Any member state of the ICW can petition custody of an international criminal, and if I remember right, the Austrians weren't happy to have him back two years ago."

"They weren't," Dumbledore confirmed.

"Please, minister," Potter said. He appeared like he really wanted the Ministry to burden itself with yet another horrifying dark wizard. As if one wasn't enough.

The minister wished he had had Malfoy with him, but he stood terrifyingly alone. But if he'd do his Austrian colleague a favour; it would certainly help his case to reduce the trade levy between the countries... "That's not something I can decide on alone," he eventually said.

"Indeed, sir," Dawlish spoke again. "The Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot will need to propose the transfer of the prisoner's custody. To the Supreme Mugwump himself."

"What?" The Minister hoped it was Potter who asked the stupid question, not himself. Those were the same person!

"That's the law," Dawlish repeated with a very straight face.

"Perhaps the Headmaster can help speed up the bureaucratic process," Shacklebolt suggested, throwing in the third position Dumbledore held.

.

Half an hour later Fudge found himself in dire need of either some extra-strong coffee, or (alternatively) a dose of Dreamless Sleep Potion. It was a taxing day! Both Snape and Karkaroff had officially identified Potter's prisoner as their abandoned former lord, and 'Moody' had turned out to have been Crouch's death eater son. The latter was a simple case, he'd been taken back to Azkaban, to the cell right next to Sirius Black's (that was now holding his father.) The real Moody was in St Mungo's, in a really bad shape if the healer's reports were to be believed. His last apprentice, the disowned Black girl's daughter, was still at Hogwarts, although Fudge had no idea what she might have been doing there.

Finally, his most trusted (and best paying) advisor arrived to his office, with one of the junior assistants in tow. Fudge didn't need to waste more than a passing glance, it was obvious enough that it was a Weasley: an irritating presence, but at least, rarely in the way, and hard-working.

"Magical Austria agreed to the prisoner transfer on the condition that they won't have to take him back again," Lucius announced. "It's in our best interest to ensure the dark lord doesn't get out of sight like he did last time." The elegant wizard rubbed his arm through the sleeve, as if he had a wound there.

"Certainly, but what can we do with Grindelwald?" the Minister sighed. "If Dumbledore tells me he would have him under control, the only thing I can tell for sure is, he won't! I don't need another catastrophe!"

"My son was rather fond of him during the year he taught at Hogwarts. If we free him, we'll have a rather potent ally in our debt."

"Supposing he's the grateful type," Fudge growled.

"I expect him to rid us of more than one annoyance," Malfoy said with a mysterious smile.

Fudge inwardly swore. Why did Lucius always act like he expected his talking partner to read his mind? He was the Minister of Magic, not a legilimens! "If you say so..." he finally decided to say. "Have you ever met him? I don't want to start with getting on his bad side! He's a mass murderer." Whom could he possibly place between himself and that dreaded man? He didn't want to lose an important wizard to this situation! It was out of control! Why did Potter have to bring back You Know Who if he can't be killed, anyway? Fudge had a year left in office, couldn't this whole fiasco have waited until the next government?

Lucius looked infuriated, as if the minister had accused him of partaking in Grindelwald's killings before even he had been born. "What do you take me for, Cornelius?" he hissed.

"I'm clueless," Fudge admitted. Only at his advisor's piercing glare towards the red-headed assistant boy did he realize he shouldn't have spoken up with a witness present. If admitting his perplexity got out, he'd lose support.

But the youngest working Weasley didn't seem to have realized what had just happened. Being looked at, he cheered up and spoke, "Well, he likes having things his way. Give him full attention, and don't ignore his advice. He's always open to a question and he'd explain the most complicated transfiguration theories in ten minutes and you'll walk away like you've read an entire library. A mutinous spirit, like my twin brothers, but way more reasonable. Very serious about the rules he sets. The only time I've seen him angry was when a fifth-year used a tusk-growing spell she couldn't undo, he actually had five others cast the same spell on her and sent her to the Infirmary before fixing the teeth of the victim." After a moment of thinking, Weasley added, "He likes a few minutes of privacy before lunch and after classes, usually some quiet place where he can gather his thoughts. And prefers cold orange juice instead of tea. Chilled drinks in general, really, I've seen him cast freezing charms on his morning coffee."

Fudge stared at the boy, then blinked at Lucius only to find he was doing the same.

Weasley stared back at the two of them. "What? He was teaching at Hogwarts while I was a prefect. He's the reason I started learning German and picked up international wizarding law."

"You speak German...?"

"Ich verstehe mehr als ich sagen kann. Ich lese viel aber wir hatten keinen andere Lehrer."

Taking that as a yes, the Minister grinned, "All right, Weasley. You stick around him and make him feel home."

Lucius added, "You must ensure his opinion of us remains positive. You're in charge of his cooperation."

"Yes, sirs, of course!" the young Weasley grinned ear to ear.

Once he was dismissed, Fudge turned back to the memos on his desk with a frown. That pile had somehow doubled in size when he hadn't been watching.

At least the new Weasley wouldn't be underfoot.