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[HP:Forbidden Magic Legend]-Chapter 129: Fudge
🕑 Added 2025-09-23 20:51:51 +0000 UTCCornelius Fudge was not in a good mood.
And who could blame him? Being woken in the middle of the night by a large bird wasn’t exactly a recipe for cheer, even if that bird was a phoenix. So, with his hefty belly jiggling, Fudge waved his arms in agitation.
“I assure you, Hagrid will not be—” He stopped short. “What is that?”
Fudge’s eyes landed on the basilisk coiled at Harry’s feet, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Leaning closer to inspect it, the hem of his blue pinstriped silk pajamas dragged on the floor. Suddenly, the transparent scales over the basilisk’s eyes slid open with a soft hiss.
Fudge stumbled back in a panic.
“I was just about to bring this up again,” Dumbledore said cheerfully. “I’ve found the true culprit behind Myrtle’s petrification—with the help of these fine individuals.”
Fudge’s gaze swept over the group, and when he spotted Tonks shrinking back, he barked, “What are you doing here?”
“Patrolling,” Tonks replied curtly.
Fudge blinked, momentarily thrown.
“Remember?” Dumbledore prompted. “After I refused to allow Dementors on school grounds, your assistant—Umbridge, wasn’t it?—suggested this as a ‘final line of defense’ against Sirius Black’s supposed invasion. She’s likely in the Ministry’s interrogation room now, awaiting a formal trial at the Wizengamot.”
Fudge’s face turned the color of liverwurst.
“So… what does this have to do with Hagrid?” he shot back, his voice rising. “It’s entirely possible he set that creature loose! I’ve heard he’s always been fond of dangerous beasts. Isn’t he trying to snag a teaching post?” Fudge glanced around the cavernous room, his tone tinged with unease. “And where are we? This isn’t the school.”
“You’ve hit the crux of the matter,” Dumbledore said. “We’re beneath the school. You must have seen the writing at the attack site. Salazar Slytherin built a secret chamber several kilometers below the castle.” Fudge stared dumbly at the towering Slytherin statue, disbelief etched across his face. “And that,” Dumbledore continued, “proves Hagrid’s innocence.”
“I don’t see it, Dumbledore,” Fudge said stiffly.
“Think, Cornelius,” Dumbledore said, a hint of impatience creeping into his voice for the first time. “This chamber was built by Slytherin. The creature that attacked the ghost is a basilisk—right there in front of you. I urge you to take a good look. Basilisks cannot be tamed, except, as far as we know, by Salazar Slytherin himself. Do you really think Slytherin would choose Hagrid as his heir? A Gryffindor? Or even consider his bloodline… Isn’t that precisely why you thought Hagrid needed to be removed from the school?”
Fudge had no retort. He stood to the side, simmering in silence, until a sly glint flickered in his eyes.
“Albus, if you’d agree…”
“No need,” Dumbledore cut him off.
“I’m the Minister for Magic, Dumbledore! I am!” Fudge shouted, losing his composure. Dumbledore regarded him calmly. “No one’s denying that, Cornelius. The question is, what are you hiding?” His voice was patient but probing. “You had Waffling’s memory erased, and ever since, you’ve been acting unlike yourself. You’ve made moves… It’s clear you have a plan, one that excludes me. That’s fine—you are the Minister, as you say. But when it comes to Voldemort—”
At the name, Fudge’s portly frame shuddered violently.
Dumbledore held up a diary, flipping to a page with a name written on it. “You see this, Tom Riddle. That was his first name. He’s the one behind this incident. I’ve told you time and again, I don’t believe Voldemort is truly gone. You never believed me, yet recently, you sent a team of trained Hit Wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad to Albania—”
“Since you know!” Fudge interrupted loudly. “You should know I’m doing the right thing! If we can catch the Dark Lord while he’s weak—”
“I’ve told you,” Dumbledore said wearily, “he cannot be destroyed.”
“You haven’t even tried!” Fudge bellowed. “You just sit here in this school. Honestly, I don’t know why you’re letting that man linger on. Are you hoping the Dark Lord will rise again, just so you can relive your glory days?”
Dumbledore fixed him with a steady gaze. Fudge’s eyes held fear but met Dumbledore’s defiantly.
“If you agree,” Dumbledore said earnestly after a pause, “I’m willing to share everything I know. All of it. But only if you’re honest about what’s driven this drastic change in you.”
For a fleeting moment, Fudge’s face betrayed a struggle, as if he might waver. But then he shook his head firmly.
“I’m the Minister for Magic, Dumbledore. Some things are for me alone to know.”
With that, the conversation ended on a sour note. Fudge stepped aside, saying brusquely, “I’m leaving.” Dumbledore sighed softly. “Fawkes.” The phoenix swooped down from a stone pillar. Fudge grabbed one of its legs. “I’ll release Hagrid,” he promised, then hesitated. “About the Defense Against the Dark Arts post…”
“No need to trouble yourself,” Dumbledore said, cutting him off. “I’ve already found a candidate.”
Their eyes locked, Dumbledore’s blue gaze reflecting Fudge’s stout figure. Then, in a burst of flame, Fudge vanished. Dumbledore turned to the others.
“I’ll escort you back,” he said, glancing at the rooster nestled by the foot of the Slytherin statue, looking quite at home. “Harry, don’t forget it. Hagrid will be beside himself if he returns to find one missing.”
Missing a Christmas feast, perhaps? Hodge Blackthorn thought wryly.
When Dumbledore left, only Tonks, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Hodge remained. Having witnessed the tense standoff between Hogwarts’ headmaster and the Minister for Magic, Tonks felt a bit awkward. “Er, I’d better go. Still got patrolling to do…” She lingered a moment before reluctantly heading off. Just before turning the corner, she saw Hodge speaking seriously to Harry and the others. Ron seemed to object, but Hodge shut him down firmly.
Tonks sighed inwardly, deciding she’d better have a word with Kingsley.
Lost in thought, she reached the fourth floor and nearly collided with a slight, frail girl. “Oh, sorry! You alright?” Tonks steadied the girl, who looked terrified and froze in place.
Tonks sighed again, this time audibly.
“Am I out of touch? Is wandering the halls at night the new trend?” she said. “I should take you to your Head of House, but… you’re lucky I’m feeling generous. Come on, I’ll walk you back. What’s your house, and what’s your name?”
The girl, with shoulder-length curly hair, blinked and said softly, “Lottie Turner.”
“Aha,” Tonks said brightly. “You must be a first-year. Sneaking off for a midnight snack? Or maybe a trip to the library—” She trailed off, her steps slowing. That name sounded familiar. Hodge had mentioned it before.
“Hold it!” Tonks snapped. “Who are you really?”
“Lottie” slowly reached behind her back.
“Stupefy!” Tonks cast without hesitation.
