A/N: This lack of ability to read reviews is becoming quite upsetting ….

The Greatest Minister for Magic in History Part 5

Cornelius Fudge was working on the final list of Undersecretary candidates. He had hopes that Augusta Longbottom would take the Undersecretary for the Ministry – helping her grandson had, he thought, paid dividends in making her an ally. Amelia Bones was looking quite prepared for Undersecretary for Magical Law.

And, surprisingly, Albus Dumbledore himself had help solidify his decision on Undersecretary for International Law and Cooperation: Tiberius Ogden. In looking over the man's voting record, he was a traditionalist as well, but no pureblood supremacist. He was almost the longest serving Wizengamot member. And, although Dumbledore had called upon the man to take his place for this trial, there were a number of times when he had voted at odds with the Chief Warlock.

Lord Ogden was well respected and would likely do a good job. Now, he just had to sound the man out.

A Senior Undersecretary to the Minister's Office was still a post that he felt was needed. He had almost shredded Umbridge's application after the trial of Sirius Black – the woman had annoyed him so much – but had left it with a note for his records that she was at odds with too many of his positions to be put in the post.

He did not want to open himself up to a charge that he didn't take the time to actually review the applications sent to him.

Some names he had reviewed and dismissed: Rufus Scrimgeour – too power hungry; Dirk Cresswell – too much of a promotion; Pius Thicknesse – too unknown to him; and a few others.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. He called out distractedly, "Yes?"

His secretary's head popped in. "Mr. Xenophilius Lovegood, publisher of the Quibbler, is here to see you."

Curious, the Minister asked, "Did he say what it was about?"

The secretary's head bobbed. "A message from a mutual friend?"

The Minister's curiosity was spiked enough to say, "Well, send him in."

"Yes, Minister."

Soon a man who's dress sense compared quite favorably to Albus Dumbledore was coming into his office. The Minister stood. "Mr. Lovegood. Welcome to the office of the Minister for Magic. I am Cornelius Fudge. How can I help you today?"

The man shook his hand and moved to the seat indicated by the Minister. "Recently a man arrived at my home in time to prevent my family from suffering a tragedy. When I had thanked him, he asked me to tell you that he was being moved on and that the main piece would have to be handled on 31 July, 1991."

Cornelius was surprised. "This man was dressed as a Muggle but was a powerful wizard?"

"Yes. You know who I speak of."

"Yes. I thank you for the message. I had wondered why he had been out of contact." The Minister paused. "And how is your family doing?"

The man smiled. "Wonderfully well, thank you. My wife is a spell creator. She made a mistake and caused an explosion. Only the man's intervention prevented her death and my daughter seeing it. We were quite thankful."

Cornelius nodded. "Well, I am glad to see you enjoying Magic's blessings. The man helped me quite effectively as well."

"I had been wondering why there seemed to be fewer wrackspurts hanging around the Ministry. Normally, you can't find a place that's clear of them anywhere in the building."

Cornelius was confused. Wrackspurts? "Yes. Well. My secretary mentioned you published the Quibbler? I am not familiar with it."

The man's face lit up. "We specialize in the stories that the Daily Prophet and the Wizarding Wireless ignore. Our coverage of little-known magical creatures is unparalleled."

"I see. Do you have a copy with you?"

Lovegood reached into his pocket and pulled out a copy of his magazine and handed it over.

The Minister unfolded it and looked at the cover. His curiosity roused, he took a minute to glance through its pages. One particular item caught his attention.

He was very amused.

The Potter traveler had told him that he had taken his position, his authority, and himself far too seriously in the universe he came from. Cornelius had taken the critique to heart.

"Well, I'm sorry to tell you, I am not working on new recipes for goblins – they look a bit too gamey if you ask me. Give me a good steak or a roast of pork any day." Cornelius could barely contain himself from laughing. "Just between you and I though," the Minister looked around his office as though inspecting it for spies, "there is a Wizengamot member who looks like the type who would be working on recipes for goblin meat pies. Dolores Umbridge, the Selwyn proxy – she's got that look about her. Just between you and I. Tell no one you heard it from me."

The man quite cheerfully took notes of what the Minister was saying. He could honestly not tell if the man was taking him seriously or was going along with the gag.

"How much do you charge for a subscription?"

Xenophilius looked up from his pad. "We publish monthly unless there's a new sighting of Snorkacks – but sometimes twice a month. It's 1 Galleon 8 Sickles for a year."

The Minister nodded and pulled out his money pouch. He placed three Galleons on the desk and pushed them across. "Sign me up for a year and send an extra copy for my waiting room. Give my visitors something new to read."

The man took the Galleons and pocketed them and noted the sale in his book. "Thank you, Minister. You won't regret it. It's always best to keep up with what's newsworthy. You keep that copy so you can read it all."

Cornelius smiled. "I certainly agree and thank you; and my thanks for the message. I look forward to receiving the magazines."

The two stood and shook hands. "The next one is in two weeks. I think you'll enjoy it."

"I definitely will."

The Minister waited until the man had left and was certainly out of earshot. He then sat down and laughed long and hard. It had been quite a while since something had amused him so much. His secretary looked in with a worried expression, but he waved her off with a smile to say he was okay.

He then got back to work, smiling cheerfully.

An hour later, one particular missive caught his attention: Amelia Bones had spoken to Augusta Longbottom. She was asking to have their talk on Saturday, 4 August, at the Longbottom estate. Augusta had agreed to have her brother Algernon at the meeting.

Cornelius reviewed his schedule. He would have to inform his wife that he would be away – she was seeing far less of him since his ascension to his position. He would have to do something nice for her – especially because she particularly despised getting involved with politics. He chuckled that most people he worked with had never met her – and she was quite happy with that. She would never be seen at a Ministry event.

Rather than send a reply, Cornelius made his way to the offices that contained the Wizengamot Administration. Where Wizengamot members might have a position within the Ministry and, therefore, an office, most members were people of older families or who were appointed by the Minister himself if an insufficient number of families deigned to hold active seats.

The Blacks were such a family. While venerable a family as any, they avoided holding a seat to avoid assassination. They tended to be a paranoid bunch.

Therefore the fastest way to reach a Wizengamot member if they didn't have an office was through Wizengamot Administration.

The Clerk saw the Minister and asked, "Minister Fudge! How can we help you today?"

"I need to reach Lord Ogden, paterfamilias Ogden. Do you know if he will be in the Ministry today?"

The Clerk reviewed the book in front of him. "No. The next Wizengamot meeting is on Monday and he doesn't tend to be at the Ministry outside of the meetings."

Curious, the Minister asked, "Is there a reason for that?"

The Clerk chuckled. "As far as he's concerned, his brewery is more important than everyday politics."

Cornelius cursed internally. If that was the case, the likelihood of the man accepting the position was very low. "Well, alight then." He paused. "Can he be reached?"

The Clerk thought for a moment. "I don't think he'd be too upset if I give you this." The Clerk made a note on a scrap of parchment. "This is the floo address for his private office. He can be found most days there if the Wizengamot isn't in session."

The Minister accepted the parchment. "Thank you. By the way, how do you like your job here? Everything going well?"

The Minister took a few minutes to talk to the man before he went along his way to Amelia's office – since it was nearby to where he was.

As he walked away, the Clerk murmured to himself, "A good man, the new Minister."

After being invited in to Amelia's office, the Minister said, "I got your message. I decided to answer directly as I was down the hall on another matter. 2:00 on Saturday should be fine."

"That's good. To let you know, Black is responding well to treatment. My Aurors reported that the goblins seemed impressed with our foresight to get the man cleansed of Dark Magic residue before trying to heal him up. It was a rather smooth operation."

"Good, good. I'm glad to hear that. Well, I'll see you on Saturday – if nothing else pops up in the meantime."

Amelia chuckled. "It's good that Friday tends to be a quiet day within the Ministry. Most of Law Enforcement are usually busy making sure there are no disturbances after people get paid or are celebrating the end of the week themselves."

Fudge nodded. "Nothing wrong with that – there are definitely times I could use a good glass of whiskey or a tankard."

After speaking to Amelia, he made his way back to his office. Getting in front of the floo, he threw some powder in and called out, "Ogden's Finest!" and then put his face in the floo. It was times like this that he was very interested in some of the Muggle things that the Traveler had described. He called out to the other side, "Hello? Is Lord Ogden available?" Through the floo he could see three figures. As was standard for a floo, they looked like fire shapes.

"Yes. Who is calling?"

"Cornelius Fudge."

"Minister! What a surprise! Do you need something?" the figure sitting down asked.

"Can I come through and consult with you?"

The figure at the desk waved off the other two who left. "Certainly. Come on through."

The Minister stood up and then threw more powder in and, after calling out the destination, stepped through. As most wizards and witches who were used to the floo did, he almost subconsciously cleaned the ash from his body with a silent spell and returned his wand to its resting place.

"Minister," the elder statesman and brewer said as he approached. "Welcome to my establishment. What can I do for you today?"

The Minister shook the man's hand. "Thank you for seeing me with no notice. I wanted to consult with you as to your opinion."

"Oh?" Lord Odgen indicated a comfortable seat in the office for the Minister to take.

"Yes. As you know, my Reorganization Bill is coming up. While it is not certain right now, if it DOES pass, I will need a few positions filled. This led me to you?"

"And what do these things have to do with me."

The Minister smiled. "To be truthful, I was going to ask you to take the Undersecretary for International Law position. However, it was suggested by those familiar with you that you'd much prefer your own pursuits than dealing with unruly foreign governments and others."

The man chuckled. "Quite true. The Wizengamot is a duty and honour; a political post would be a nightmare."

"Well, then, I wanted to ask if you had a name more suitable. I need a traditionalist in the post – someone who won't make revolutionary changes but who would be willing to ensure that the Ministry gets the best agreements regarding foreign trade. I think that Weasley as heading the Interior can deal with the Muggles sufficiently – I'm already having him spend some time learning from someone who understands muggles better. Even if the bill doesn't pass, it will help his current department run better. But, I need someone to make certain Crouch gets the best for Britain that can be achieved – someone with stature. Do you have any ideas?"

Ogden sat back in his chair. "I can see why you thought of me. My product makes my name well known far beyond Britain's borders." The two men chuckled together. "But I think that you need someone younger than I, someone who is familiar with the changing tides of International trade." Ogden paused. "Where do you stand on Light vs. Dark?"

Cornelius waved his hands to dismiss this. "Being labeled 'Light' or 'Dark' is usually something done to make oneself or those you label to be looked at a certain way. I'm more interested in the law and prosperity for Wizarding Britain. I won't accept someone who's likely to upset other nations with some overblown idea of superiority or someone who will deal with International criminals. And the Supreme Mugwump, I am certain, pushes the 'Light' agenda quite enough as far as that goes. I also don't want someone who will treat it like a lark, something fun to do to pass the time – Ludo Bagman has that attitude sown up quite enough as well. I want someone who is business minded."

Ogden was nodding. "Good, good. I think you are on the right track with this. And so I think I have a name."

"What name?"

"Mathias Greengrass."

Cornelius thought about that. "He deals with … potion ingredients and magical items?"

"Yes. His family's fortune is based on international trade. And they have been traditionally neutral as well. I think he would find the position challenging."

Cornelius nodded. "A name I hadn't thought of. There's a reason I'm asking those who've been running things longer than I. Can you possible arrange an introduction?"

Lord Ogden laughed. "That will not be an issue." The man stood up and walked over to the fireplace and threw in some floo powder. He called out, "The Hothouse!" After a moment, Ogden put a foot in the floo to keep it open and called out, "Greengrass! Are you there?"

A voice came out, "Yes. I see a foot. Only one person calls the floo with a foot. What do you need, Tiberius?"

"Blame my bad knee. I will not get down on the ground just to speak to someone. Anyway, come to my place – I have someone who wants to talk to you."

Ogden withdrew his foot and the flames turned back to normal. After a moment, however, the flames turned green again and a man exited the floo.

Cornelius appraised the man. He looked to be in his forties – which could mean he was anywhere from forty to sixty, depending on how the man aged, and he was dressed in conservative robes. His face was pleasant but, unlike someone like – for example – Arthur Weasley, it wasn't open: In other words, what one would expect from a wealthy man in the normal course of business.

The man looked around and took on a small (very small) look of surprise. "Minister Cornelius Fudge. I expect that you are whom Tiberius wants me to meet. What can I do for you today?"

"Hello, Mr. Greengrass. I would like to sound you out on a proposal."

At Lord Ogden's invitation, everyone sat down. "What kind of proposal?"

"I assume you keep up with current legislation?"

The man chuckled. "Yes. Although I refuse to apply for the seat my family could assume, I do keep up. Necessary if one is to do business."

Curious, he asked, "Why not take your family's seat?"

Matthias grinned at Ogden, who looked almost resigned. "Well, first of all – I'm not that old. I'd feel out of place amongst those fossils." Ogden shook his head at his fellow business owner. "But mostly because things are fairly balanced and my input would not change much."

"I see. Why waste time when there isn't much reason to do so."

Greengrass chuckled. "Yes, exactly. Taking the title of 'Lord Greengrass' would be nice – but the headaches aren't worth it for so little gain."

"I understand that you deal in imports and exports?"

"Quite. My family has a long history of it."

"So, you are definitely interested in International Law and Cooperation?"

Feeling something coming, Greengrass looked at Minister carefully. "You could say so."

"How would you like more direct input in how Britain works with other countries? Be able to ensure the agreements we make will not damage your income base?"

Matthias Greengrass considered the Minister. "That sounds – theoretically – like a good idea. But what would I have to do?"

"My Ministry Reorganization Bill is coming up for a vote soon. If it passes – and signs indicate that there is more and more support daily – I will need someone to take the position of Senior Undersecretary for International Law. Lord Ogden suggested you, after verifying his own lack of desire for it."

Greengrass looked at the older man. "You just want to sit around and drink the product that your brewery makes and get out of all the hard work."

Ogden chuckled. "Someone has to be quality control – and who better than I?"

Greengrass laughed with him, as did the Minister. "Yes. I guessed it was something like that." When the three settled down, he asked Fudge, "What exactly are you looking for in someone for that position?"

"I don't want a supremacist who will upset the foreign governments we deal with, and I don't want an idealist who believes in the innate fairness of people. I want someone who knows business and who can ferret out little loopholes and hidden clauses so that Magical Britain is not put at a disadvantage. I think you would do well in this."

The man considered it. "But I DO have my own interests to run."

"I understand that. But a few things to consider: You would not need to be in the Ministry full time. Most of the actual work will be done by the two who run the Interior and the Exterior. Your job will be mostly to ensure that they don't go off the deep end of the lake. A man in such a position could insure that agreements with other nations would not hamstring his own business. Now, I couldn't countenance you using the position to hamstring other British wizards who are doing business – the Ministry is supposed to work for ALL of Magical Britain after all – but at the same time, you could prevent insidious creeping of regulations and laws which might do damage to business."

Greengrass considered. "The offer is tempting."

Cornelius looked at the man and added, "Think of this as well – a little insurance for the future. The position will come with a seat on the Wizengamot. If, at some future time, I am no longer Minister for one reason or another and some political enemy tried to force you out so that you cannot use your Wizengamot seat against him, the fact that you can take a family seat will most likely be forgotten. So they force you out as Senior Undersecretary and suddenly you're back as Paterfamilias Greengrass. Imagine the consternation you could create in such a situation."

Matthias Greengrass looked at the Minister and asked, "What house were you in again?"

"Hufflepuff, actually."

Greengrass nodded and laughed. "You're the most Slytherin Hufflepuff I've met recently. Your vision of how to turn things on one's enemies years before such a possible scenario could occur would have brought a smile to the face of our House's founder, I think."

"Thank you. I think." The Minister said this with some humour.

Matthias thought about it for a moment and said, "I'll have to talk to my wife, but I think that I am interested."

"Good! Good. Now then, all you have to do is to get together an organizational plan for your section if the bill passes. Remember – your authority will be all relations with governments that fall outside of the direct control or authority of the Ministry of Magic. The Directors of the Interior and Exterior will answer to you, and then you to me. Arthur Weasley will deal with the Interior – Muggles, Goblins, Centaurs – and Barty Crouch will deal with the Exterior – other Magical Governments and International Liaisons for various Ministry Departments: Games and Sports, Magical Creatures, Law Enforcement, and for the Wizengamot Liaison, the ICW seats. Any questions?"

"And if I want to propose change to how we deal with a particular group?"

"Work it out with your Department heads, keep me informed, and propose it at the Wizengamot yourself. Remember, you'll have a seat with the same authority as any other."

"Well alright, then. I look forward to your bill passing."

The group of men broke up, the two visitors returning to their respective offices.

Cornelius Fudge was looking forward to the meeting he was going to be having. He would finally share the news of his visitor with those whom he felt he could trust, and would therefore solidify their support further, at least he believed so. He was also feeling refreshed - he had made the day before a short day and had taken his wife out for dinner and a show. She had quite enjoyed herself. The old axiom still held true: Happy wife, happy life.

He was welcomed in the floo area by the Dowager Longbottom herself, along with her grandson. "Minister Fudge. Welcome to Longbottom Hall. May you find peace and succor beneath its roof."

"Thank you, Lady Longbottom. I accept the hospitality of Longbottom Hall. And although the giving of gifts to one's host for every visit has fallen out of common fashion, I thought that these might be appreciated." He pulled out several small envelopes of parchment. "Each of these contains seeds of various magical plants. With young Neville's interest in Herbology and the suggestion of the goblin healer, I thought he might appreciate the chance to work with more unusual plants."

Madam Longbottom smiled and nodded to her grandson, who had looked at her for permission. He turned back to their visitor. "Thank you, Minister! The chance to work with new plants is something I always look forward to."

"You're welcome, lad," he replied, handing the packets over. "Practice your craft in good health."

Neville read the names of the seeds. "Wow! A couple of these I've never heard of!"

"I'm sure your gran would agree that you should research them first before planting them – always better to be safe and to have a plan. They are, after all, magical plant seeds."

"Yes, quite. Run along and put those away. We'll be having tea in the sitting room when all the guests have arrived. I expect to see you there."

Neville shot the Minister one more look of gratitude and ran to seal the seeds in his room – he was experienced enough to know you don't leave unknown seeds around without knowing exactly what they would do.

The hostess watched her grandson with a smile. "Since we visited Gringotts, he's seemed to grow up from a clumsy boy to a promising wizard overnight. It's been a joy."

The Minister nodded with an answering smile. "Nurturing our legacy should always bring us joy."

Augusta looked back to her visitor and nodded. "Please follow me. We have only to wait for my brother. I was curious as to why you asked for his presence."

The Minister chuckled. "Well, I think you'll understand. A few things I've heard I wanted to speak to him about – nothing of catastrophic consequences."

Soon, the Minister was sitting with Amelia Bones and Neville Longbottom. And, finally, Augusta led her brother to the table and the group had tea. It was a fairly cheerful setting. When it was done, and the plates and cups were taken away by the house elves, the meeting between the group began.

"Minister. I was a bit surprised when Augusta invited me to tea to meet you as apparently it was at your instigation. Is there something that I can help you with or something you need from me?" Algernon Harcourt asked the Minister.

The Minister smiled and said, "Yes. You could say that. Actually, I will need to speak privately with Augusta and Amelia about Ministry matters, but things that I have learned prompted me to ask your sister to ask you to come, and I had hoped that young Neville would be present as well, at least for this first part. I won't take up much of your time, but I thought the matter fairly important."

"Oh? And what can I help you with?" the man asked almost eagerly.

"Before I begin, I wish to say to our hostess that I hope that I am not intruding onto family matters and that when I have finished that she will not be offended, but something occurred to me and I find that there needs to be some … rectification."

"Rectification of what?"

"Well, you see … are you familiar with the family your sister married into? The respect that they hold?"

Algernon was confused. "Of course. I've been here on and off for most of 45 years, since she was originally married."

"Good, good. You see, I am familiar as well. Which is why I was surprised when Madam Longbottom intimated to me that there had been concern that young Neville would not qualify for Hogwarts. She expressed her happiness that these worries were unfounded. Knowing how unfathomable the idea that a Longbottom would be unqualified was, I suggested we visit Gringotts to check for Dark magic residue. He had been exposed, as you know, while very young.

"Gringotts, however, found that any residue was quite dissipated – but they also found two … not one, but two … infant locks. They removed these for a fee. And what, Madam Longbottom, did the goblin healer say about young Neville's magic?"

Augusta, who was solemn at the Minister's words, replied, "It was very strong. And because he had grown with the locks, it would require a precisely matched focus for him to learn control – otherwise his magic would be too strong to control it precisely."

"Yes. That's what I recall as well."

Algernon had not actually heard the details and his face was a study of shock and surprise. Amelia Bones just watched. Neville's eyes were wide listening to the Minister talk.

"The Longbottom name is, of course, steeped within the history of Magical Britain. Its members are usually very well known. And do you know why?"

It was a rhetorical question and the man didn't try to give an answer – he had some small sense that the Minister wasn't looking for one.

"You see, certain families are … different. While many families have contributed much to our society, certain families have always given … more. Names like Bones," he motioned toward Amelia, "Potter, Longbottom – these names are a reverent litany of service and sacrifice; to their families, and to their society; for over a thousand years. And the price they have paid is not just a matter of the distant past either. Even young Neville here paid a price when was still in swaddling.

"While some families have one or two or even a few who distinguish themselves in service, these families … the very ground that Magical Britain sits upon is sanctified by the blood that wizards and witches with these names have shed. So you see, it was rather curious to me that, after I visited Gringotts with the Lady Augusta and young Neville here, my inquiries ran into certain rumours seemed to tell a certain tale – which I knew to be false.

"So I rousted out these rumours and, to my shock, found the rumour that young Neville was almost a squib! We know now that this is not true, but it got me to thinking: Where did these rumours come from?"

Algernon's face lost a bit of color at that. He didn't answer that one either.

"Also, the rumours of the actions that certain family members had taken to scare the magic out of him – to force him to have accidental magic: How his being dropped and bouncing verified that he wasn't a squib. How he almost drowned. Things like this. And that, finally, is what caused me to ask Augusta to invite you."

"First of all, I would point out a few things about certain actions that were taken during Neville's childhood: While – I am certain – these actions were born not of maliciousness but of concern, and even misguided notions of familial love, they are also quite properly classified as abuse. And if they had caused any permanent damage, they could have been reclassified as attempts to end an Ancient and Noble Line. As far as that goes, that is all I will say. I'll take no further action. If Augusta or young Neville decide to, now or in the future, I would – of course – have to support them.

"But the real reason I asked that you be invited is this: By the time young Neville begins Hogwarts next year, any rumour or hint that he is almost a squib or is less than the powerful wizard that he is had best be, to the best of your ability, squashed down flat. You started the rumours – you had best fix them. And, also, any description of the actions taken to cause Neville to have accidental magic had better not contain the notion that the results were successful. No, no. I want witches and wizards the length and breadth of Magical Britain to be certain that such activities are criminal and will be prosecuted thoroughly as such by any Ministry that I run. Do you understand?"

Looking almost green, Algernon Harcourt nodded in agreement. "Now, Augusta, Amelia and I have Ministry business to discuss and so, perhaps, you should ask to be excused so that you can begin to take the steps I've mentioned." He turned to Neville. "And you should ask to be excused so that you can begin your research. Or perhaps spend some time learning your family history – it is quite rich with tales of legend."

Augusta stood up. "Yes, Neville. We will discuss this further – later. Have fun looking up your new seeds. Algie: I will escort you to the floo so that we can have a private word or two."

Neville thanked the group for visiting and withdrew to his room. Augusta led her shocked brother out. And if it took longer than strictly necessary that the time to go to the floo and return, neither Cornelius nor Amelia said a word.

After the others had left Amelia commented, "I should perhaps spend some time with my niece explaining the importance of the Bones legacy."

Cornelius smiled at her and said, "Probably quite appropriate."

When Augusta returned and she had given the Minister her personal thanks for his words about her family, the three took a moment to drink some more tea delivered by house elf – and then the Minister came clean about the visit by the Lone Traveler. He explained what he had learned and what actions the Traveler had taken. He also explained what he had personally done to avoid that future and why. He also included the things that he had learned that, perhaps, had not even been contemplated by his visitor. He also included his general plans for the next year.

When the tail was done, the two women were both amazed and shocked. They also promised Cornelius their full support – the consequences of acting otherwise was too steep to be acceptable.

Augusta's final comment reflected what Cornelius knew to be true: "We truly have been blessed by Magic."