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Chapter 2: Viruses, The Flu, and Fudge... Oh, My!
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The deep-voiced narrarator spoke again, "The strange scene that was unfolded before us was: Dumbledore just faced off the sickly Voldemort, who had just got away from the approaching crowd of Ministry officials by Disapparating. Harry Potter, the-boy-who-was-right (about Voldemort coming back), was laughing. Here, the story continues to unfold."
Fudge was used to the voice, as he was the Minister of Magic. He wished he had not hired Ludo Bagman to do it, though. Commentating at the Triwizard Tournament and the Quidditch World Cup was enough. But commentating on action at the Ministry? Perhaps he had gone too far. He disliked hearing about the flirting that went on between Linda and Frank in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, the sounds of Ludo eating on the job (it sounded like smacking sounds, ew), and when Ludo went to the bathroom worst of all.
But hiring Ludo was the reason why the crowd assembled. They had heard the narration he provided for Voldemort's appearance, along with escaped Death Eater, Bellatrix Lestrange, not to mention something about a "smashed prophecy". So, Fudge assembled a group (which acted more like a mob) of Ministry officials to check it out. Panic was in the mind of all officials. None wanted to find out if Voldemort was in the very building they were in.
Fudge opened the door, expecting to see a deluded Harry Potter and that old crackpot, Dumbledore. The scene he actually saw: Dumbledore, contemplating which cough drops he liked best; Harry, laughing his head off ("I can't WAIT to tell Ron!"), and Voldemort, Disapparating from the premises. Apparently, he Disapparated at the last possible moment.
It was the strangest thing Fudge had seen in a long time. He would have thought about it longer, if it had not been for the fact that Voldemort had been right there in front of him. Despite the fact that Harry was raving, despite the fact Dumbledore was licking his lips at the thought of peppermint cough drops... they had been right, after all.
Which made Fudge look like the biggest jerk of all time.
In a lime green bowler and matching striped pajamas.
"Hey, Fudge!" said the magically-loud Ludo. "You missed all the fun! Unfortunately, so did I, because at the sight of that Dark dude- MAN, I was SO out of there."
"You speak lightly of You-Know-Who... but more importantly, he was HERE! Right under my nose! In the Ministry of Magic!"
The crowd behind him buzzed him panicky fervor.
Harry stopped laughing, with a final, "can't... wait... tell... Ron... ha ha..." and Dumbledore stopped contemplating at, "...well, I guess vanilla chocolate cough drops are better than cherry cough drops, but really, what about apple-cranberry pie cough drops..."
Fudge glared down Dumbledore.
"Y-y-you!"
"Me," said Dumbledore coolly.
"Don't play games, Dumbledore, I-"
"Forget it, Fudge. I have no intention of taking over your esteemed position of Minister."
"But-but-we have proof! You had an army-"
"Does it make any difference? We have a killer on the loose here!"
"Yes, yes, I know, Voldemort, you were right, after all-"
"No, no, no, I meant the flu."
"The flu, Dumbledore?"
"The flu."
There was a bit of silence after that. Fudge wondered what the heck the flu was while Dumbledore wondered about whether vanilla cough drops were better than chocolate. Harry just stared at the two of them.
"Dumbledore, seriously, we don't have time for Muggle nonsense- the foo or whatever you said-"
"The flu, Fudge, and I recommend we better get some officials to fetch the Muggle anti-virus for it."
"Vi-virus? What are you talking about?"
"It's a common Muggle illness. In the Muggle world, it has been known to kill people if the virus mutated-"
Fudge was enraged. "The FLU? A mutating VIRUS? What are you talking about? I thought Muggle sicknesses do not affect us! So how is this suddenly our main concern? Voldemort is AT LARGE, DUMBLEDORE, IN CASE YOU DON'T REMEMBER!"
Dumbledore took his half-moon specs off his face and cleaned them with his robes. Fudge was clearly frustrated with Dumbledore's calmness.
"I remember quite clearly, Fudge. Yet, in his current condition, I don't think he could hex a puppy, let alone murder."
"What-what are you talking about-"
"I am quite clearly talking about Voldemort's illness."
Fudge flinched at the sound of Voldemort's name, but he was still angry, and now confused. "Illness? What illness? Dumbledore-"
"Yes, Fudge?"
"WHAT ILLNESS!"
"The flu."
"The flu?"
"The flu."
"The flu?"
"Yes, Fudge, I'm quite sure it's the flu, I have read enough Muggle books and seen enough infected Muggles to know it's the flu-"
"THE FLU! Dumbledore, what the heck are you talking about? GET TO THE POINT!"
Dumbledore sighed. "It's pretty clear, Fudge. Voldemort has the flu, a common Muggle illness, which will hinder his actions for the next few days. It will pass, of course, but-"
"You-know-who? Sick? Seems unlikely, Dumbledore..."
"Oh, so that's who was hacking away in here," Ludo piped in boyishly.
"What?" Fudge snapped at him.
"Well, I was doing my job, Fudge, and I saw him approaching, and I ran into the closet there... but I kept hearing all this coughing and sniffing... I thought maybe it was Harry or something... getting jinxed or something... but then Harry's laughing and asking about cough drops... Dumbledore too..."
"Enough. I've heard enough. Is this some sort of-"
"Look, Minister, I swear, do I look jinxed?" asked Harry, annoyed. "No. I saw Voldemort, he was hacking away and coughing and sniffing... it's the flu, if not a cold. My cousin Dudley has it almost every winter... he's not dead yet, unfortunately... but still, he could barely stand, let alone kill me... Voldemort, I mean... though Dudley fits into that category, too..."
"Fudge," said Dumbledore, a little agitatedly, "remember that we were right about Voldemort returning. We are definitely right about Voldemort having the flu."
"But the flu, Dumbledore-"
"The flu, Fudge."
"The flu!"
"The flu."
"The flu?"
"The flu."
"The flu," finally sighed Fudge. "Ok, so what are we going to do about it? Maybe it will kill off You-know-who."
"Well, Fudge, it is highly unlikely that the virus could kill him, it's very rare... but still, if it does kill him, then we'll have two problems. The first being that if he could return once, he could return again, and the second being that it would be a disease that could infect and kill almost as effectively as Voldemort kills... if not better."
Silence.
"The flu?" said Fudge incredulously. He thought the worst of his problems would be Voldemort until today.
"The flu."
Great, thought Fudge, great. Now we have more problems. As if St. Mungo's wasn't full enough.
"But there is a solution, Fudge."
"What?"
"We need the anti-virus."
"What is a virus, Dumbledore? I still have no clue what-"
"It's an extremely tiny microorganism. It attaches itself to the very basic parts of your body, namely, cells, and takes over. It inserts a bit of information of itself in there- DNA- and it incubates more viruses inside your cells. Then, lysogeny occurs- which is when the cell explodes, releasing thousands of more viruses into your body. And since viruses are so small, they are contagious- they can infect you just because you breathe... of course, exercising cleaner habits helps prevent the contagion from sticking around..."
This thought terrified Fudge. An enemy you couldn't see...but a way to defeat it...
With this thought in mind, he bid good-night to Dumbledore, and began thinking of his next act as Minister...