Chapter 13 – Sugarless Fudge

Pacing the room, he cursed himself quietly. Why didn't he listen to Albus Dumbledore? Why'd he have to ignore all of the man's advise? He was going to get it. The people would throw him out of office for sure! He couldn't believe it had happened. It had happened...

He found his large, comfortable chair, and fell into it. The cushions contorted around his short, large body. Due to the wheels on the bottom of the chair, he rolled over to his desk and grabbed a cigar. Muggle made, but just as good.

The seconds ticked by on the large, oak clock on his wall, and his palms began to sweat as it became closer to five-o-clock. What were they going to say? He wasn't worried about what Lucius Malfoy would say...considering Lucius was dead. At least I won't have to deal with him, he thought to himself. But Albus...oh, Albus.... He shuttered as visions of the powerful old man's face flew through his mind.

Albus Dumbledore was scary when mad. And though the man had never really seen Albus mad, he had heard stories. He could only imagine what the Headmaster of the old school would say to him. And worse, what he would do to him.

The clock struck five, and the man's face darkened. Within seconds, the room started filling up with various visitors. Some were quite young—to young to be dealing with situations as serious as this. They were to be out playing Quidditch. They didn't belong here. Others, like the man himself, were older, maybe in their mid-forties to late fifties.

But he soon realized it didn't matter how old they were. They were all here on the same purpose—to get him out.

As soon as Albus Dumbledore appeared in the room, all the voices (which were talking quietly about the quivering man in the chair) silenced, and they stared at the enraged man.

"How could you?!" shouted Dumbledore, his voice louder than anything any of the men had ever heard. "I warned you, Fudge, I warned you!"

Fudge stood from his chair, trying to find courage against the fuming man. "Professor, please, maybe some introductions would be appropriate first—"

"I do not need introductions, Mister Fudge." Dumbledore's voice had quieted to a surprisingly soft whisper. Despite the voice being quiet, it was still full of anger, and power. "All these men in here are my allies. That is all I need to know."

Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, looked around at all the other men in the room. He stiffened as they all nodded at Dumbledore's statement.

One of the older persons, a red-headed man, spoke up. "How could you let this happen?" he asked, almost as quietly as Dumbledore. Except, instead of anger and power, his voice was filled with disappointment, and sorrow.

"Mister Weasley, I assure you, I had no idea—"

"You lie!" screamed another man, who was much younger. "I heard the Headmaster warn you! He told you! He told you!"

Arthur Weasley placed a hand on the young man's shoulder. "Calm down, Bill."

Fudge's eyes darted around the room, much like a rodent's when it knows it is to be attacked by an owl, or worse, a hungry snake. He began to play uneasily with his robes, and he stuttered, "P-Please, men, ju-just listen to m-m-me..."

Albus shook his head. "You did not listen to me, Cornelius. You have not earned the right for us to listen to you."

"Please!" Fudge pleaded.

"I remember exactly what happened, Cornelius. In fact, for verification, I have brought my Pensive with me. There are some who heard it themselves," he nodded in Bill Weasley's direction. "But there are others, who know not of what you said."

Dumbledore reached into his robes, and pulled out a dish. He had put a covering on it, so the liquid inside would not drip out. He looked at the Pensive bowl for a moment, then the image began to appear...

"Voldemort has returned," Dumbledore repeated. "If you accept that fact straightaway, Fudge, and take the necessary measures, we may still be able to save the situation. The first and most essential step is to remove Azkaban from the control of the dementors—"

"Preposterous!" shouted Fudge again. "Remove the dementors? I'd be kicked out of office for suggesting it! Half of us only feel safe in our beds at night because we know the dementors are standing guard at Azkaban!"

"The rest of us sleep less soundly in our beds, Cornelius, knowing that you have put Lord Voldemort's most dangerous supporters in the care of creatures who will join them the minute he asks them!" said Dumbledore. "They will not remain loyal to you, Fudge! Voldemort can offer them much more scope for their powers and their pleasures than you can! With the dementors behind him, and his old supporters returned to him, you will be hard-pressed to stop him regaining the sort of power he had thirteen years ago!"...

The image faded, and Fudge's body shook harder. The other men glared at him, eyes flashing wildly.

"It's true then?" asked one of the men. "Albus Dumbledore warns you of something he should know about, and you ignore it? All because you're afraid of losing your place in the Ministry?" The man laughed. "Well, Fudge, you're screwed."

"I see that," Fudge said plainly.

Everyone in the room scowled at the Minster of Magic, completely silent. Fudge looked around at all the raging faces, not knowing what to do. Should he Apperate away? No, that would get him into more trouble.

"I think what we need to do," Albus said, "is first get all our information about just how much Mister Fudge fucked up, then decided what to do about it."

A few of the men jumped at Dumbledore's choice of words, others just nodded, agreeing.

"Yes, yes, okay," Fudge agreed. "Erm...won't you all have a seat?" He conjured up chairs for everyone, and they all sat, each with their wands in their hands. Fudge gulped, hard, at the sight, but tried to remain calm.

Arthur Weasley spoke first. "Just how many have escaped?"

"All of them," Fudge said. "All the Death Eaters escaped, bringing the dementors with them." He looked at all the angered faces. "You have got to believe me!" he suddenly shouted, pleading with mercy. "If I had known, if I had known..."

Dumbledore ignored Fudge's cry, and looked at Arthur. "I am most worried about Harry, Arthur...as you can imagine." After Arthur nodded, Dumbledore turned to no one in particular. "But, I am also worried about young Neville Longbottom."

A few men cocked their heads, one asking what was on everyone's mind, "But sir, why?"

Albus jumped slightly in surprise. "Don't you all remember?" Only Arthur suddenly seemed to understand.

"Neville's parents," he whispered breathlessly.

"Right. And I have reason to suspect that the three who are still alive, who were charged with subjecting them to the Cruciatus Curse, may want to finish their son off."

"What?" interrupted Fudge. "Ridiculous!"

"Excuse me, Minister," said Bill slyly, "but I do not believe you are in the position to contradict Professor Dumbledore."

Fudge gaped at the young red-headed man. This man, who was just beyond the age of boyhood, had power. He could see that.

Dumbledore nodded kindly at Bill, and once again looked at no one in specific. "So…the dementors are on Voldemort's side." The name of the Dark Lord sent tingles up some of the men's backs, while some looked around the room uncomfortably. Albus noticed it, and rolled his eyes. "Oh come now! You are all grown men! Surely you are not afraid of a name!"

The men in the room muttered lightly, some shaking their head, others nodded stupidly.

Albus sighed. "If we allow Voldemort," he empathized the name, "to scare us like this, then he has already won. He is a terrorist. If you become so afraid that you cannot speak his name, then you may as well join his side."

More murmurs filled the room, and Albus turned to Fudge. "How do you propose we should get these dementors killed?"

"We can't," Fudge said quietly. "Patronus charm is the only true thing that can harm a dementor. There's nothing else…nothing that I know of, at least…"

"YOU ARE A FOOL!" screamed Dumbledore, who stood so fast out of his chair that it fell over. "You are a crackpot fool! How could you put something so powerful into the hands of Voldemort? Something that couldn't be destroyed?!"

Fudge leaned back in his chair, sweat dripping down his cheeks and neck. "If I had known…"

"ARG!" screamed Dumbledore. He pulled out his wand, and pointed it at Fudge's nose "If you say that one more time…"

"Gentlemen!" Arthur Weasley interjected, causing both men to look at him. "Please…Albus…perhaps we should call it a day. I know I need to get home to my family…"

The old headmaster nodded. "Yes. Yes, alright. I'd better go check up on Harry. You are all dismissed."

The men all disappeared. Dumbledore was left alone with Cornelius Fudge.

"I warned you, Fudge," Dumbledore said quietly. "I warned you. And you were too blinded by your ignorance you see that I was right. Thank god I have sent Hagrid to get the giants. Thank god you are not the protector of Harry. He would never have lasted as long as he has."

And with that, Dumbledore left, leaving a stunned Cornelius Fudge to himself.