Someone requested that I continue, so this is the result. I might do another chapter, but this isn't a regular update. Scrimgeour is hard to write, since he appears only in the sixth book at the start and finish. I see him as a more orderly man than Fudge, but still racist.
The Prime Minister himself is OOC, but since he's a minor character, and England inspired him, so I hope none of you mind.
I don't know what the Prime Minister's office looks like, but this is fanFICTION, so I took some liberties to reflect the mood.
One more thing. I can't write like what a politician would speak, or any fully mature adult for that matter. I'm not that experienced.
The man of 43 seconds later
Order Prudence to send out memos- check.
Give speech, written by Paine- check.
Do paperwork- check.
Visit muggle Prime Minister- not yet.
"Prudence, I'm going to visit the muggle Prime Minister. Hold my calls, sort out any memos that come in, and I expect an Earl Gray by the time I get back," I watched Prudence scurry away as the flames burst into existence. The girl looked worried, but I thought nothing of it. Muggles were weak creatures, and they were lucky that we wizards had to time to deal with them. I stepped into the emerald fire.
As the flames subsided, I noticed the furnishings of the Prime Minister's room. The walls still held shades of past luxury, but there was nothing left of former riches, if any existed at all. It appeared that most of the furniture was sold not long ago, replaced by cheap replicas. The only piece of furniture that remained was a polished wooden desk, where the Prime Minister sat opposite a ragged man.
None of this lined up with what I learned about muggles. Muggles lived dull lives and worked to serve the superiors, rich muggles or wizards. The few who knew about magic, or at least believed in it, thought that it could solve everything [1]. But this muggle… he stood there like a true wizard, knowing that nothing could fix everything without work and dedication, not even magic.
But still, I am a wizard, and I will guide him through this time. "So," I began. "You are the muggle Prime Minister?"
The muggle stood up. "Can't you see that we're in the middle of a conversation?"
The other man turned towards me just enough for me to see his face. Fudge.
"What are you doing here? You lost your job, so get on out."
"You lost your job?" The Prime Minister shot a startled look at Fudge.
"Yesterday morning. Now you must leave. I am the new Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeor. Now get out,"
"You can't order people out of my office!" The Minister bellowed.
"He is not the Minister, therefore he has no right to be in your office," I concluded.
"By whose rights! Just because you're a wizard and you have your own separate government, you have the authority to override my rights? It's a free country!"
…I couldn't find an argument to that. Well, having Fudge here isn't a problem. After all, he already knows. "He-who-must-not-be-named is back,"
His gloomy expression did not change. "Fudge already told me that. What else?"
"… We are entering marshal law. I advise you to do the same," I never planned on saying that, but this muggle's attitude forced me in order to maintain face.
"For what reason exactly should I do this?" he replied coldly. "None of us would betray ourselves to a tyrant, especially one so much like Hitler,"
"Hitler was a muggle ruler of Germany, am I correct?" I did not see why he drew such contempt at his name.
"He was just as bad as your Voldemort!" he snapped. "Maybe worse! If you don't know what he did, then you're the one who needs to know more!"
What? This man dares challenge me? "You- He is the worst thing that could happen to the world! He kills anyone who gets in his way, including innocent bystanders!"
"You are under the impression that we muggles are helpless, mollycoddled sheep! None of us have ever escaped the tidings of war, and you just waltz in and tell us that this Hitler-wannabe worse than anything we've ever seen?"
"You're underestimating the Dark Lord!"
"London was Blitzed! My great-grandparents died when my grandmother was a child!"
"He can kill with only a single curse! And his followers can, too!"
"A single curse, can he?" He began, his voice filled with cold fury. "So can I,"
What? This man was mad. "You're saying that you can kill someone with a curse. Muggles can't use magic," I said like a teacher educating a schoolboy.
"I may not be able to use magic, but-" he picked something out of the desk, "I can use this." He held a complex steel instrument that meant nothing to me at all. It had no trace of magic or anything that looked even remotely harmful, not counting the fact that it was solid metal.
Fudge choked. "Th-that's a machine gun, isn't it?"
"I'm glad you took my advice, William," A voice came from the corner.
"Wh- You!" Both Fudge and the Prime Minister gasped in unison.
I turned towards him. A young man was standing there, holding a cup of tea. Despite his apparent youth, I felt an aura of power surrounding him. "Hello, Rufus."
Who was this man, to refer to me so casually? "Who are you?"
"I'm England," …what?
"Long story. VERY long story," Fudge muttered with a resigned tone.
"You never said anything about this," I retorted.
"That's why I'm here in the first place! You're my new boss, along with William here, and as nations, we have to tell our bosses about us,"
"Wait, there are more of you?" said the muggle Prime Minister.
"You thought that I was the only one?"
"Er… Yes, as a matter of fact,"
"You claim to be an island," I said.
"…Well, if you put it that way…" He stared into my eyes, and- A hundred knights stood on the hill, ready for combat- The Tower of London loomed overhead, prisoners awaiting execution- A young man eating a green apple turned, saw- a fleet of ships, cannons firing and privateers looting-( No! Use Occlumency!) Green fields, a breeze gently blowing potato leaves- A small teashop, a man doing the crossword sitting opposite a woman eating a scone- He was all of this. England.
"Did I look like that when you did that to me?" the muggle Prime Minister said to England.
"Yes," he replied curtly. "Your expression was quite like a teenager on LSD,"
"… Can we go back to our conversation?"I asked thickly.
"Well," England began, "I agree with both of you. The problem is, neither of you really understand each other. You've," he nodded to the Prime Minister, "never known magic or faced danger head-on, while you," he nodded at me, "look at muggles- or anyone who isn't a normal wizard, for that matter- as inferior, and don't take their thoughts in your grand scheme,"
"What about Fudge?" I retorted.
"You shut your eyes on the suffering of everyone, denied both your instincts and your hopes, and you let your fish die after not feeding it for a month when you were six,"
Fudge looked abashed. "How did you know about Mr. Giggles?"
"Maybe it's because I'm ENGLAND?" he said sarcastically.
"Right, sorry,"
"Anyway, the two of you need to work out your differences. Voldemort is still gaining power, and right now arguing will only give him more time and power. You need to make a decision, or else,"
"Can't you give us any advice?" the Prime Minister asked.
He shook his head. "Only what a human can know. I mean," he caught himself, "Because I'm England, I know about anything that happens here, but I can't tell humans about it without one of my citizens knowing. But if I discover information by conventional methods, like spying," ("That's not very conventional," muttered the Prime Minister. "Shush!" I hissed.) "Then I am free to tell you about it. As for advice, I can only tell you what you already know,"
"Wait," I said, "I did not know about the Prime Minister not facing danger, so how could you-"
"You may not know, but he knows, therefore I can tell you," he finished. He went over to the window and opened it. "Remember what I said, try to look at the other sides of the issue," he jumped out.
"Why does he always do this?" the Prime Minister muttered.
"If the Ministry had windows, he would have done that to me, too," Fudge remarked.
"In that case, we should work something out, shouldn't we,"
END
[1] People who know about magic, or at least believe in it- About the 'believe' part- what he's saying is people who have never seen anything magical but still believe in it, as opposed to seeing, say, a unicorn and then realizing that magic is real.