Disclaimer

"I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the related characters. The Harry Potter series is created by JK Rowling and owned by Warner Bros. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the original Harry Potter story belong to Warner Bros."

At the Ministry of Magic

Minister Cornelius Fudge's office in the Ministry of Magic was an opulent and imposing room, reflecting his penchant for ostentation. The walls were adorned with grand tapestries, depicting scenes of historical magical achievements, and numerous ornate cabinets showcased a vast collection of magical artifacts and trinkets. A magnificent phoenix sculpture stood majestically in one corner, its fiery plumage casting a warm, golden glow over the room. A vast, polished mahogany desk dominated the space, littered with parchment and quills.

As Minister Fudge sat behind his desk, flipping absentmindedly through a report on the latest Quidditch matches, he welcomed the head of the Department of Mysteries, Roaker, who had come to discuss a matter of great importance.

Roaker, a stern and enigmatic figure, entered the minister's office with an air of authority. His robes bore the distinctive silver embroidery of the Department of Mysteries, marking him as a high-ranking official with access to secrets that were beyond the reach of most witches and wizards.

"Minister Fudge," Roaker began, his tone measured and deliberate, "I've come to discuss a matter of some significance that has come to our attention."

Fudge, his round face seemingly more preoccupied with Quidditch scores than the upcoming conversation, glanced up with mild interest. "Ah, yes, quite. Do take a seat, Roaker. I've had a most hectic day."

Roaker inclined his head politely and settled into one of the plush armchairs opposite Fudge's desk. With a sense of purpose, he continued, "Minister, we have detected a significant magical disturbance—a time alteration spell, to be precise."

Fudge, still more focused on the Quidditch report, raised an eyebrow. "Time alteration, you say? Well, it's not uncommon for witches and wizards to fiddle with time-turners. Students have been known to play around with them. I don't see the cause for concern."

Roaker's expression remained composed as he countered, "Minister, I assure you this is unlike any ordinary time-turner usage. This was a spell of substantial magnitude, and it happened within our borders, right here in Great Britain."

Fudge leaned back in his plush chair, now paying more attention. He cleared his throat and asked, "Are you suggesting that someone may be tampering with time on a larger scale, Roaker? That would be highly illegal, of course."

"Indeed, Minister," Roaker affirmed, his voice unwavering. "But what concerns us is the lack of specifics. The device detected the disturbance, but it failed to pinpoint the exact location of the event. All we know is that it occurred within our jurisdiction."

Fudge waved a hand dismissively, still seemingly untroubled. "No harm done, then. It was probably some amateur wizard experimenting with a time spell behind strong wards. We'll keep an eye out for any rogue time-turner users, and that will be the end of it."

Roaker's stern expression did not waver as he made another attempt to convey the significance of the situation. "Minister, I must stress that we're dealing with a level of magic that surpasses the capabilities of standard time-turners. This is a cause for concern. It may signify something far more complex and potentially dangerous."

Fudge frowned, his plump cheeks reddening slightly. "Now, now, Roaker, you're overreacting. We have more important matters to attend to—like budget cuts for the Aurors and new werewolf legislation, for instance. These time-turner shenanigans are not a priority."

Roaker's countenance remained impassive as he regarded the Minister. "Very well, Minister Fudge. But should the situation escalate or prove to be part of a larger, more complex magical event, I trust you will take it seriously. The Department of Mysteries will continue to monitor the situation."

With that, Roaker rose from his chair and exited Fudge's office, leaving the Minister to his Quidditch scores and other trivial matters. The head of the Department of Mysteries understood that some secrets were better left untouched, for now, and retreated into the enigmatic depths of the Ministry.

The room returned to its grandeur and ostentation, with the phoenix sculpture casting its warm, golden glow over the vast, polished mahogany desk—a reminder that in the world of magic, some mysteries could remain hidden even from the most powerful officials.

In Minister Fudge's office, the atmosphere shifted from the earlier meeting with Roaker of the Department of Mysteries. Now, the heavy curtains blocked the afternoon sunlight, casting an air of subdued opulence over the room. The polished mahogany desk was now the setting for a meeting with an influential and discerning figure in the wizarding world—Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius Malfoy was a tall and elegant man, exuding an air of aristocracy and refinement in his every movement. His long, silver-blond hair cascaded down his back, framing a face adorned with sharp, aristocratic features. His pale, unblemished complexion held an air of haughty indifference, and his steely gray eyes bore an intense and calculating gaze.

As he stood before Minister Fudge, Malfoy's robes were a masterpiece of dark, rich fabrics and impeccable tailoring. They bore the unmistakable mark of a pure-blood wizard of considerable wealth and influence. The silver embroidery on his dark cloak glistened, depicting the Malfoy family crest—a serpent coiled around a cane.

Malfoy's voice was smooth and measured, as he addressed the Minister with a sense of importance. "Minister Fudge, I come to you with deep concerns regarding recent events at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Fudge, now more attentive and eager to address an influential pure-blood wizard, gestured for Malfoy to sit. "Please, Lucius, take a seat. What troubles you?"

Malfoy accepted the offer and seated himself with an air of regal grace. "It's a matter of the utmost importance, Minister. One of our most distinguished pure-blood families, the Crabs, has had their heir, Vincent, go missing at Hogwarts. This is a grave concern for our community, and it warrants immediate attention."

Fudge, eager to please Malfoy and maintain the support of his substantial wealth and political influence, nodded in agreement. "I understand your apprehension, Lucius. But it's not as simple as just ousting Albus Dumbledore from his position as Headmaster. There are politics at play, and it would be a complicated endeavor."

Lucius Malfoy raised an eyebrow, a hint of exasperation crossing his otherwise composed visage. "Minister, you must understand the stakes involved here. The pure-blood tradition is under threat, and we cannot afford to be lenient in matters concerning the welfare of our children. We must act to preserve our heritage."

Fudge, feeling the pressure of the situation, scratched his head nervously. "I do recognize the importance of the situation, Lucius. I have a proposal that might help. We could appoint a Ministry-approved teacher to oversee the activities at Hogwarts starting next school year."

Malfoy's thin lips curled into a slight smile, revealing a trace of satisfaction. "Minister, that does sound like a prudent measure to ensure the well-being of our pure-blood heirs. I trust you will make the necessary arrangements."

Fudge, relieved that he had managed to find a compromise, was all too willing to oblige. "Of course, Lucius. I'll work on the details and ensure that everything is set into motion. You can count on my support in your future endeavors as well."

With that, the influential and politically astute Lucius Malfoy had successfully leveraged his influence to secure his interests, leaving the office of Minister Fudge, its heavy curtains drawn and grand tapestries hanging with all their opulence, behind him. The meeting had served as a testament to the complex and intricate web of politics in the wizarding world, where power, wealth, and heritage could sway even the highest-ranking officials.

In Minister Fudge's office, the conversation with Lucius Malfoy had left him eager to regain control over Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. After Lucius had left, Fudge summoned his trusted Undersecretary, Dolores Umbridge, a woman known for her strict adherence to the Ministry's policies and her zealous loyalty to Fudge himself.

Dolores Umbridge was a plump, bespectacled woman in her late fifties, with mousy, flyaway hair, which she kept neatly pinned up beneath her pink bowler hat. She wore glasses perched upon her short, pudgy nose and favored a wardrobe exclusively consisting of pink, from her cardigan to her frilly, high-collared blouse, and down to her kitten heels. Her small, gloved hands clutched a clipboard and a stack of parchment, ready to take notes or issue decrees at a moment's notice.

Fudge, trying to regain his composure after the meeting with Malfoy, leaned heavily on his mahogany desk. "Dolores, I have a task of utmost importance for you. You've done excellent work with the werewolf legislation. Now, I need you to ensure the safety and security of Hogwarts. I'll be sending you there as High Inquisitor for the next school year."

Umbridge's eyes widened with enthusiasm, her broad face breaking into a smile that never reached her eyes. "Oh, Minister Fudge, I am most honored by your trust in my abilities. Rest assured, I shall bring order and discipline to Hogwarts."

Fudge nodded, relieved that Umbridge was eager to take on the responsibility. "Thank you, Dolores. I'll be creating a set of rules and regulations for Hogwarts, ones that ensure we have a tight grip on any anti-Ministry activities. I want you to ensure that they are enforced."

Umbridge couldn't hide her satisfaction at the prospect of tightening her control over the school. "Minister, you can count on me to maintain the highest standards at Hogwarts and ensure the safety of our young witches and wizards. Our world needs to be protected, and I shall make certain of it."

With a firm handshake, Fudge left no room for doubt about the importance of this task. "Very well, Dolores. Go to Hogwarts, do your job, and remember that you have the full support of the Ministry."

As Umbridge left the office, her kitten heels clicked crisply against the marble floor. She couldn't help but feel a sense of vindication and opportunity. Her new role as High Inquisitor would allow her to shape Hogwarts to her own liking, maintaining strict control, and reinforcing the Ministry's grip on the institution. With the backing of Minister Fudge and the pure-blood families who supported his policies, she was determined to bring her vision of discipline and order to Hogwarts, no matter the cost.