Dinner With Voldie and the Escape of the Spies 6
Finally Free
At the Ministry of Magic, Scene 1
Fudge stormed into his office (again) and slammed the door. Where the hell did that Alice girl get off anyway, rejecting him? He was the Minister of Magic, voted Witch Weekly's fourth most influential wizard. It was out of 5, but who really cared anyway? He was still the Minister of Magic, a position that Albus Dumbledore would never have- He was stuck being the smelly Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Fudge laughed heartily, until he remembered that Dumbledore had been in the running for the position of Minister, and would have won if he hadn't rejected it in order to keep his position as Headmaster. Blast! Dumbledore had won again, and this time he wasn't even playing.
Damn thesebloody psychological one-upmanship games against Dumbledore I play in my head,? thought Fudge.
Once again, Fudge had come to the shocking (but somehow unsurprising) realization that he was, and always would be, second to Albus Dumbledore. But he was still the Minister of Magic. And he could still do whatever he pleased. And everyone still had to listen to him.
That's right! I AM THE MINISTER OF MAGIC. AND YOU MUST DO WHAT I SAY! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME ? Fudge yelled out the door, startling a young Ministry of Magic intern that was passing in the hallway.
"Y-Yes M-Mr. Minister sir?
"NOW get me some warm butter beer! And in my special Mug?" shouted Fudge.
"But sir, you don't have a special mug"
"MAKE ME ONE!"
"Yes. Sir," stammered the intern, and hurried off down the corridor.
Bloody interns; always interrupting him. Why couldn't they ever do anything productive? They were always pointless, just wasting time.
No wonder nothing ever gets done around here, thought Fudge.
And then there was the matter of Harry Potter and that damned Order of Merlin ceremony. He had to get ready to present Harry Potter with the Order of Merlin, First Class.
Disgusting, absolutely disgusting, Fudge sneered. The highest honor a wizard could possibly receive would be awarded to a fifteen year old boy who could barely even produce enough facial hair to make a hairpiece for a pixie.
Fudge couldn't deny that the boy had talent. Anybody could see that the Potter boy was destined to be almost as great as Dumbledore himself, if not greater.
But why is he have to be better than meeeee, Fudge whined to himself. It's just not faiiiiiirrrrr.
Fudge threw himself into his chair. Where was that intern with that butterbeer? It was taking him bloody long enough.
Looking up, he saw a shadow lurking in the corridor.
Bloody interns always wasting time! thought Fudge.
"Now listen hear! You had best come along with that butterbeer. You think you have a future in the Ministry of Magic! Ha! I have the power to make or break you. You would be nothing here without me. Do you know what I can do to you? I possess powers you could never hope to imagine in you wildest dreams!"
"The question is, my good sir-" leered a cold high voice from the doorway, "do you know what I can do to you?"
Startled, Fudge sat back in his chair. Who would have the ordacity to speak to him in that manner?
"Now see hear, you little ingreat. Show yourself this instant!"
"Ah yes. It seems in my current state of agitation, I have forgotten to introduce myself, as we have never been formally presented. Yes, I must observe the niceties."
Fudge looked around for the processor of the seemingly disembodied voice frantically. Was it You-Know-Whom or as he had called him in the newpaper, Lord Thingy? Ooh, he was so going to pay for that! Why didn't he just say You-Know –Who like everyone else?
Fudge's heart nearly stopped. " H- He- who- m- Must- not -be n-named!" he stammered out hoping against hope that somehow it wasn't him.
"My dear sir, while I do enjoy your abject horror at the sight of me, such formality before death in hardly necessary. I much prefer Voldemort, as it is the name I have given myself. However, if you wish to be so cordial, Lord Voldemort will be sufficient."
Fudge sat frozen in his chair, whimpering softly.
"Out of all of these ministers, Fudge, you have definitely been the stupidest, not to mention the least competent. Not that I minded of course. It has previously been that your incompetence and sheer lack of magical skill has worked in my favor… until recently, that is"
Voldemort's voice came closer so that it seemed as though Fudge where speaking with a live Voldemort face-to-face.
"It seems that as soon as I returned to power, you and you little Ministry of Magic have been getting in my way. Frankly Fudge, you have become nuisance. And also quite frankly, Fudge, I hate nuisances. And do you know why I hate nuisances, Fudge?"
Fudge stared wordlessly into Voldemort's slanted eyes.
"Because they annoy me. And I don't like to be annoyed. You and your Ministry have been making my comeback most complicated. Your incompetence is causing me problems, Fudge. And I don't like it. But then again, this isn't the first time that an individual has had to take the fall for your incompetence, is it, Fudge? I'm sure you remember Sirius Black."
Fudge shuddered at the mention of Black's name. Black's death had been a fatal blunder on the part of the Ministry.
"My point is, Fudge, that it would serve you best to stay out of my way in the future. You and the Potter boy scum. Now I understand that you are presenting Potter with an award tonight."
Again Fudge said nothing.
Voldemort heaved an exasperated sigh.
"Your lack of participation in our conversation is exhausting, Fudge. Ever since I arrived, our conversation has been terribly one-sided. It is most impolite not to respond to someone who is speaking to you. Perhaps I should remind you not to forget your manners again?"
Again, Fudge was silently fuming yet desperately terrified. He still had no clue where the voice was coming from!
"Now I hope that we will not have to go through any grueling tutoring classes on how to be polite. As many of my torturees can tell you, it is most painful nad involves several Cruciatus'. Now are you willing to speak?"
Fudge gasped for breath, but said nothing.
"Very well. Then. I you leave me no choice. My visit here has been most unenjoyable, Fudge. I must say you were very uncooperative. However, it would be beneath me to kill a disgusting excuse for a pureblood like you, not to mention pointless. I would much rather leave you to the mercy of my numerous assistants," sneered Voldemort. "Good day, my dear Minister."
With a high, cold laugh, Voldemort's voice retreated from the desk just as mysteriously as it had come.
Fudge sat in shock for 10 minutes straight. Then shaking himself, he thought, It was just a dream. After all, You-Know-Who come and talk to me without me being able to see him? It's impossible. C'est impossible!
With that he bumbled around his office (trying to convince himself that it was a dream, no doubt), opened the door, and began to welcome in the people. As the room filled, he spotted Harry Potter, accompanied by that werewolf that Dumbledore had let teach at his school, followed closely by Albus Dumbledore himself.
He motioned toward them, trying to get them to hurry up. He wanted to go get this over with so he could spend the rest of the day the spa-he'd been working too hard lately. Who knew that running a country actually took effort?
However, Cornelius Fudge was in for a mighty surprise. A large amount of scream were let loose in the air as soon as Harry Potter began his speech with a, "Thank you, Minister Fudge for allowing me to accept this prestigious award…"
Luckily for the Minister, Albus Dumbledore as well as several top-notch Aurors, was there to control the wreckage caused by those damn creatures who call themselves human, otherwise known as Death Eaters.
Back to the Past Before Attack Begins
As the room filled with people Voldemort turned to his Death Eaters, Voldemort turned to his Death Eaters for a pre-attack prep. They were a group of about ten Deathie wannabes. Voldemort had merely planned this attack as a "terrorizer" with its main purpose to terrorize the wizarding world. No big deal. No massive death toll, although in his sick mind that would be a plus.
"Alright you know what to do. This is your chance, your only chance. Do not fail me or you will die. Remember at this point you are the expendable newbies. Show no mercy. And yes, some of you will die in the process, but that is a price I am willing to make. Now attack!"
The Death Eaters began to run into the depths of the crowd, but before they could take three steps they heard their new Lord and Master call them back.
"Wait! Just a second." Turning slowly they saw Voldemort quickly fastening on chakram
"Master, what is that?" asked a particularly brave yet stupid Death Eater.
"What does it look like?" asked Voldemort right back with a rude are-you-stupid tone of voice." It's a chakram. That warrior princess, Xena, I believe her name was, used to use this in her many escapades fighting against the Greek gods and goddesses. It inspired fear into her enemies."
"Oh," replied all the Death Eaters as a unit.
"Well? What are you waiting for? Attack!" Just as before, however, the Death Eater began running with an eager look at the thought of killing poor innocent witches and wizards only to be stopped again by their Master.
"Hold it! Just a minute longer," cried Voldemort.
Once again but slightly annoyed rather than surprise this time, the Death Eaters turned to face their leader. This time they were all shocked into silence. Not even the most courageous of the newbie Death Eaters could question Voldemort this time! Voldemort had conjured a tube of black paint and was pouring chunks of the icky clunky paint into the palm of his hand. Nothing short of stupefied, the Death Eaters watched as Voldemort placed streaks pf black paint on his facial checks. Had they known anything about the Muggle world, they would have known that this was a popular ancient custom of Muggle armies, Native Americans in particular, used for a variety of reasons.
"What are you looking at now? Its just some paint to make me look more evil than I already am is all. Nothing special, now attack!"
Personally none of the Death Eaters saw any reason at all for Voldemort to make himself look more evil. Where were you when he was described earlier as a Snake-human Animorph? But in any event, all the Death Eaters dove off into the crowd just looking for someone to kill.
"Just a second longer."
This time nobody could contain their displeasure. Sighing audibly as a group, they turned around.
"What now?" demanded the same brave, yet obviously mentally slow Death Eater. All the other Death Eaters huddled together and pointing at the other lesser known McNair twin went "oooh." Life within Voldemort ranks was like a dictatorship-e could be rude and toture you all he liked but never ever should you retaliate, especially not in his presence!
"How dare you question me!" screeched Voldemort. And what was the very stupid Death Eater's response? Why the great fool merely clamped his hands to his ears to block out the sound. Now everyone who's had a parent knows that now matter what happens, you absolutely do not try to block out your chastisement. So it was no surprise that the only thing everyone could think was? What the hell is this man doing?
Voldemort's already snakelike red eyes squinted with anger. "I think its time for a little torture session," he said in a voice cold enough to turn boiling hot water into ice in a matter of seconds.
Ten minutes later, as Harry was being called up to the platform, the Death Eaters wobbled to stand having survived Voldemort's torture session. Thank Morgana that they had a Notice-Me-Not charm on them this whole time! It would have been seriously embarrassing to have everyone know what being a Death Eater meant and that life as a Death Eater was far from glamorous.
"Now I was you to attack and I was no problems either. Leave my presence now!"
Finally the attack on the Ministry of Magic began. People began flailing their arms and wands uselessly and screaming. It was utter chaos, a Death Eater's dream. And of course, what's a dream without a little background music? thought Voldemort. He waved his wand and "Let's Get It Started" by the Black Eyed Peas began playing. Muggles really knew their music didn't they?
Continuing the Scene 1, At the Ministry of Magic
Harry stepped up to the now-clean and Death Eater-free platform.
"Are there any more rude disturbances?" he called out slightly nervous from the sheer numbers of witches and wizards who had turned up to hear his speech. At the few laughs his feeble joke inspired, Harry continued his well-planned speech.
"Good. I would like to thank all of you for coming here today. Today I am here to receive one of the highest honors in the wizarding world, the Order of Merlin. Our dear Minister Fudge has deemed me worthy of receiving this honor." Harry placed so much sarcasm on the 'dear Minister Fudge' part that the crowd before him broke out in titters. Was there some kind of problem with Minister Fudge? Didn't Fudge say right before Voldemort came in that he and Harry were on the best of terms lately?
"However, I do not believe that I am worthy of such an honor. I've had help every step of the way." Again the crowd began to murmur with bewilderment. What was going on? He was Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived for crying out loud! He's been worthy of the Order of Merlin practically since his birth!
"You have all heard, I am sure, why I am being awarded this medal, this badge of honor. I captured 10 or so Death Eaters who shouldn't have escaped from Azkaban to begin with. Or at least that is what you've been told. That is not, however what happened." The crowd gasped. "I helped capture the Death Eaters with help from my friends who should be up here with me accepting this award. These people are Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Sirius Black."
Without even waiting for the crowd to being its angry screams of 'traitor!' Harry continued quickly. "Sirius Black is an innocent man. He never killed those Muggles and Peter Pettigrew. He was framed for it by Peter Pettigrew who was an unregistered animagus in the shape of a rat. And our Minister of Magic, here, thought that since all the evidence pointed towards Sirius being guilty, that Sirius would not have a trial. You know Fudge, there is a reason why people say 'innocent until proven guilty,'" said Harry while smirking at Fudge who was now positively shaking in his wee lil' bootsies. The whole crowd was either glaring at Fudge or floundering uselessly in confusion.
"But anyway, I guess that I will accept this award today. But not for myself, I'm accepting it for those who were lost and for all those who are still fighting. I will accept this award on behalf of my parents, Sirius, and the countless others where have given themselves in sacrifice to save all of you who stand before me. I will accept this award for all of those who are willing to sacrifice themselves and are possibly fighting even as we speak so that we all might live another day in peace. Thank you."
Harry then stepped off the platform. There he was attacked by Fudge who had retreated to the back of the stage. Fudge had flown onto Harry, practically mauling him, throttling him and shaking him at the same time.
"How dare you?" He screeched. "I put my heart and soul into this career, and now you sunk it faster than the Knight Bus!" He pounded Harry's head against the wall at each word. It was a while longer before, Harry managed to escape from being practically underneath Fudge's massive body.
Rasping horribly, Harry said, "Don't you dare try to blame me for telling the truth Fudge! If you had done things right in the beginning, then you wouldn't have a problem now, would you? You know what the say-you're' actions in the past will haunt you forever!"
"Stupefy" cried Remus.
"Nice one," said Harry to Remus, stepping over Fudge. "What took you so long."
"Well, I had to make it through all the pandemonium that you left behind, ever so carelessly I might add. That's just the sort of thing that James would've done," said Remus in such a way that one could tell that he was quite proud of Harry.
Harry glanced behind him and saw all the witches and wizards clamoring to the platform to ask Harry questions of every kind.
"Do you have a girlfriend, Mr. Potter?"
"Would you consent to an interview, Harry?"
"Could we have a quote, Harry? Just one, for the readers"
He shook his head. Some people never learn, he thought as he turned back toward Remus. "Let's go home," he stated simply, grabbing hold of the portkey made to take them back to their new suburban home in Duluth.
The Last Supper
Once again Voldemort sat down to dinner after a failed attack. This time it was with one unfortunate Death Eater by the name of Kingsley Shacklebolt. However, unlike all other "happy"-that is to say the Death Eaters were never exactly happy in Voldemort's presence- dinner Voldemort was not pleased.
The attack on the Ministry of Magic, so carefully planned, far from terrorizing the people, had failed miserably. The Aurors had begun shooting spells amost as soon as the Death Eaters had begun killing. Oh sure, they had had time to torture several people, but there were very few kills. Very disappointing in Voldemort point of view, as it would be to anybody who was leader of a legion of evil doing and evil-intentioned creatures.
And he, Voldemort, knew why the attack had failed-there was another spy in his ranks. How did this happen? I thought I was free of those foul betraying cockroaches! Woe is me. Oh well, let's get rid of him, thought Voldemort
"My lord?" questioned Kingsley quietly. Voldemort was not attacking his food with his usual vigor-a tell tale sign that the Dark Lord was upset or angry about something. Voldemort frowned at Kingsley's interruption of his thoughts. Apparently I was right, thought Kingsley.
"Oh Kingsley, " began Voldemort in a sickeningly sweet voide not unlike Peeves the Poltergeist's when he was at his life's work of pranking the poor Hogwarts student. "There was something rather odd about the attack on the Minstry of Magic."
"Odd" replied Kingsley. "I did not see-"
"The Aurors reacted rater quickly, wouldn't you say?And they seemed to know exactly where our Death Eaters were too. Almost as if trhey knew exactly where to go and who to attack…" Voldemort left his unsaid words hang in the air before continuing, "Think carefully how you respond Shacklebolt, for these next words may well be your last on this earth."
Like a kid caught opening his Christmas presents a week advance, Kingsley gulped audibly before speaking. Should he stick to his story or not?-that was the question.
"My Lord, I did not think that the Aurors reacted any differently than-"
"Shacklebolt, your mind speaks more true than your words have ever done in your entire life. But no matter," said Voldemort thoroughly nipping Kingsley's reply in the bud.
"Shi-" was all that Kingsley was able to get out before a curse was sent flying through the air. The Cruciatus.
An hour later the food was cold. Voldemort was lazily reviving Kingsley while eating a wonderfully delicious cold pancake.
"Now, you pathetic creature, get up and leave my presence. And tell Dumbledore not to send any more of his stupid spies. And that as much as I love having a little bit of entertainment from torturing you, this must 'have a spy' thing must stop. It's getting old. Next spy I catch will be Nagini's next meal-and that's if I'm in a good mood."
Groggily Kingsley nodded, not feeling anough energy to even think of any smart comments. He promptly apparated away, hoping that he didn't splinch himself in the process.
With the traitor gone, Voldemort slouched back in his seat sighing. He was getting old, it was time for total world domination and to kill that Potter brat who had defied him for far too long.
Suddenly the door to the dining chamber swung open. In stepped a sprightly, tall young man with thick black hair and blue eyes. Bowing deeply and elegantly, the man said, "Lord Voldemort, my name is Walpurgis MacNair, twin brother of Walden MacNair and brother of Alice McColl, your faithful servants. I have come to you to ask that you allow me to serve you and assist you in any way that I possibly can."
Finally, thought Voldemort, there is a man who looks like he might be worthwhile. He conjured a book and tossed it to Walpurgis MacNair. He said, "Life as a Death Eater will be tough, before you commit yourself, read this book. And I warn you, you had better know everything in it including the tblae of contents. And then I will want you to be able to tell me, or my head Death Eater rather because I am too important, what your favorite lines were and why, the theme, and be able to answer any question without a moments blink."
The man looked at the book in front of him. It was titled So You Wanna Be A Death Eater, a novel by the Dark Lord Voldemort. This was most certainly a change from the last time he had joined the Death Eater ranks. Things would certainly be interesting this time 'round.
"Be gone," said Voldemort dismissively.
The man turned around to walk out the door to apparate out. But before the man could apparate away, Voldemort could have sworn that he saw the most insolent of winks. Could it be another spy? Nah, he determined, dismissing it from his evil mind. Little did he know, it was another spy, The Great Sirius Black who was determined this time, to make this spy job work. And yes, the capital T in "the" is required.
Final Conclusion to Dinner With Voldie and the Escape of the Spies
Slowly Harry walked into a dark room. "Now you have seen and experienced a Dinner with Lord Voldemort." Lord Voldemort then walked into the room. "And now you have seen the escape of the spies, "he said scowling. Sirius and Remus walked in together next. "This is the end of this tale. We hope that you enjoyed it." Finally Dumbledore walked into and joined hands with the rest." We also beg you to remember that this is just yet another nonsensical fanfiction story created by yet another wild, crazy, and disorganized mind."
As a unit at the end of the tale, Harry, Voldemort, Sirius, Remus, and Dumbledore lifted their hands and bowed saying, "Now we hope you will give our author one heck you a review because Merlin knows she deserves it after finishing our peculiar tale with very little encouragement! Thank you and good night. We hope to see you soon."
The lights dimmed and the curtains fell, as crowd goes wild at this authors completion of her first ever fanfic!
LAST AND FINAL AUTHOR'S NOTE :tear:
That's the end of Dinner With Voldie and the Escape of the Spies…period.
Once again: if you liked my story, would you please review? And if you hated my story, would you please review? And if you thought my story was stupid, would you please review? Oh and by the way, if you don't review, I will know that you've been to see my story because there's this new thing on that let's me know who's visited my story, so since I know you've made it this far, would you please review? PLEASE review and visit my author profile. It's got something very important to say to heavy fanfictioners!
Wishing you lots of laughter, love, and Harry Potter,
wannabewitch610