Cornelius Fudge entered the Department of Mysteries. He didn't much enjoy being in the company of the Department of Mysteries; indeed, this was the one department he felt he didn't truly have any authority over. He mistrusted the place, yet he knew they were the only ones who could give him what he needed.

He approached Bode's office, knocked three times, and entered. The man was sitting at his desk, looking strained and reviewing a tediously long document. He looked up at Fudge upon the man's entrance.

"Ah, Fudge. Good. I have news for your…experiment."

Bode stood up. Fudge, closing the door to the office behind him, said impatiently, "Good, good, Bode. Tell me. What news do you have?"

Bode walked over to the side of his office, which Fudge realized was covered by a long curtain. Bode opened the curtain to reveal a small room with a house-elf in it. The house-elf was feebly stirring, as though it were struggling to regain consciousness.

"Our…experiment…worked, Fudge. This house-elf has lost all of its magic."

Fudge turned to look at the man. He looked rather uncomfortable with the words he was saying. However, Fudge looked delighted.

"Show me. Who's the house-elf's master?"

"I am."

"Give it a command. Try to summon it."

"Come here, Flicker."

The house-elf sat bolt upright, as though it had heard the summons. It snapped its fingers, but nothing happened. The house-elf looked alarmed, then proceeded to run at the door. Fudge recognized the symptoms of a house-elf punishing itself for failing to obey orders. The elf crashed into the wall, then it did so again, resulting in a bloody bump on its forehead.

"That's enough, Bode."

"Stop, Flicker."

The house-elf subsided, though looked terrified. Fudge turned to look at Bode.

"Have we tested this on humans?"

"No, sir. We haven't. It would be…difficult…to find a human willing to give up their magic for our experiment, sir."

"Yes, I can see where that would be difficult. Where does the magic go?"

"Into nonbeing. It's like it vanishes."

"Could we give it to someone else? Perhaps a Squib or something like that?"

Bode looked extremely uncomfortable now. "Mr. Fudge, what you are suggesting…even the things we have done up to this point…it's extremely unnerving. I'd prefer to stop these experiments. I know you want to use this against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named…"

"That's not all, Bode. Don't you think it would be appropriate to give magic to people who deserve it? The Squibs, or families of Muggle-borns? We can take it from the Death Eaters, and from Voldemort, and give it to those less fortunate."

At this, Bode undoubtedly looked alarmed. "Mr. Fudge, an Azkaban sentence is one thing, but to strip a wizard of his magic? Surely there are other ways of administering justice!"

"Yes, there are, Bode. This wouldn't be used except in the most extreme circumstances. Terrorism, for example."

"Yes, but I recall the Ministers of old saying that of Azkaban sentences," Bode retorted. "With all due respect, Mr. Fudge, I don't think this is a good idea. I regret doing it in the first place. Can't we just…destroy our results and be done with it?"

Fudge glared at Bode. "Of course not, Bode. We need to test this further. I will reach out to Dolores and arrange for Bellatrix Lestrange to be our guinea pig for this experiment. Someone like her surely deserves it, don't you think?"

Bode sighed. "Whatever you say, Mr. Fudge." He drew the curtain back over the testing room, and bid Fudge good day as he left the office.

Despite his statements to the contrary, Fudge was indeed feeling very unsure of his decision to have the Department of Mysteries undergo such experiments. Bode's words repeated in his mind; "I don't think this is a good idea, Mr. Fudge." What could possibly go wrong?

He thought of Dumbledore's warning, how Dumbledore had said Voldemort would try to take over the Ministry. That if Voldemort succeeded, Fudge was handing him not only the keys to the magical government but also a weapon so powerful and deadly that he would be nigh unstoppable. He also thought of Barty Crouch Jr's testimony at his trial. He had arranged for the man to be administered the Dementor's Kiss shortly after his trial, for breaking out of Azkaban. But his words still haunted Fudge: "He will take over your Ministry, Fudge, and there's nothing you can do to stop it!"

Fudge sighed deeply. He had made it back to the lift. He walked through the waterfall that covered the doors to the lift–washing away all magical enchantments and concealments, an order he himself had given to prevent Ministry workers from being Imperiused or Polyjuiced–and didn't realize he was not alone on the lift until a soft "hem, hem" issued from the other side. He turned and saw Dolores Umbridge staring at him, sweetly.

"Oh. Hello, Dolores. What are you doing here?"

"I was summoned to the Ministry by Pius Thicknesse, Minister."

"Pius Thicknesse? What did he need from you?"

"A consultation. As you know, I was Head of the Improper Use of Magic Office prior to becoming Senior Undersecretary. While here I was hoping to speak with you, in private."

Fudge nodded. "Let's go to my office, then, shall we?"

The duo set off, making small talk on the way, Fudge not really paying attention. He was still having that internal battle with himself. Am I doing the right thing?

After a few moments, the twosome found themselves seated around Fudge's desk.

"What can I do for you, Dolores?"

"Pius Thicknesse is very interested in the…er…research happening within the Department of Mysteries, Minister."

Fudge looked suspiciously at her. "Is that what you…consultation…was about?"

"Yes, Minister. He wanted to know if I had any information on it. Of course, I don't and I told him as much, but he seemed to think you had a weapon being prepared down there."

"Well, he's not wrong, Dolores. In fact, I have a task for you. I would like for you to arrange for Bellatrix Lestrange to come to the Ministry sometime in the next two weeks."

"Whatever for, Cornelius?"

Fudge sighed. "Dolores, you are going to find out eventually, so let me tell you what I've been working on. The Department of Mysteries has been undergoing research into taking a wizard's magic away from him. They have succeeded with a house-elf. We are now ready to test it on witches and wizards."

Umbridge stared at Fudge.

"Minister, you…you can't be serious!"

Fudge looked at her, unblinking. Umbridge paled, then sank down into her chair.

"I…that's incredible! And the experiment was successful?"

"Yes, Dolores. We tested it on an elf. It was successful."

"What are your plans for this…weapon?"

"We are going to use it on Lord Voldemort himself. Turn him into a Muggle."

Umbridge looked astounded. "But surely, Cornelius…surely, you've considered the impracticality of that! The Ministry has never been able to catch him. How do you expect us to take his magic away if we can't even get him under arrest?"

"Well, Dolores, that's partially where Madam Lestrange comes in," said Fudge grimly. "We use her as bait, you see. Take her magic away, and then let her walk free. Surely she will lead us right to him."

Umbridge smiled sweetly. "I see, Minister. A devious plan indeed." And she laughed, her high-pitched, girly laugh that made Fudge very uncomfortable, though he didn't say anything.