Epilogue
Cornelius
Fudge had finally accepted the fact that Voldemort was no longer a threat. He
had prayed every night for the day when he could live without fear of becoming
the Dark Lord's next target. Now that day was here. It took him a month
to get used to the idea, but finally he had begun to accept it. He was one very
relived minister of magic, to say the least. But still, in the back of his
mind, there was an annoying, nagging fear. And so he realized just what he
would have to do. He would have to confront Voldemort. He needed to see it with
his own eyes, needed to see the fallen dark lord, safe behind bars. And so he
found himself one warm summer morning, standing before the chilling building
that was Azkaban.
He
was lead to the maximum-security cell where the Dark Lord was being held until
permission to proceed with his execution was granted. There, right before his
eyes, sat Voldemort, looking sad and pitiful and not really like much of a dark
lord at all. Cornelius Fudge looked at the sad, broken man in the cell before
and did something he thought he'd never do. He laughed.
"Look
at you, you pathetic fool, sitting all alone in your cell. Where is the Dark
Lord? What has happened to the King of all evil, the Prince of Darkness? What
are you now that we've beaten you? You don't look like a King or a
prince. No, you don't look like much of anything at all." Fudge
seemed emboldened by the steel bars separating the two of them. "Yes,
that's right Voldemort, we've beaten you. You've lost. I
promise you that you will never, ever leave this prison alive. It's
over."
And
with that, Fudge turned on his heel and left the prison, satisfied at last that
the Dark Lord would threaten the wizarding world no longer.
In
his cell, Voldemort looked up at the spot where Fudge had been standing. His
eyes, which had never met Fudge's, were smoldering angrily as he followed
Fudge's back with his eyes until he rounded the corner and disappeared.
It is never over.
The End.