HP Approaches the Magic World

"You - um - your - I mean, some of your people have - to do with these events, right?"

Fudge gave the Prime Minister a very stern look.

"Of course it is," he said. "Surely you understand what's going on?"

"I..." the Prime Minister hesitated.

It was this situation that made him dislike Fudge's visit.

After all, he is a dignified Prime Minister, and he doesn't want anyone to make him feel like a primary school student who doesn't understand anything.

However, this has been the case since his first meeting with Fudge on the first night he became Prime Minister.

He still remembered the scene clearly as if it happened yesterday, and he knew that he would never forget that memory until his death.

At that time, he was standing alone in this office, savoring the joy of finally achieving success after so many years of dreaming and careful planning. Suddenly, he heard a cough behind him. Just like tonight, he turned around and saw,

It was the ugly little portrait that spoke to him, announcing that the Minister of Magic was coming to visit him.

Naturally, he thought it was the long campaign and the pressure of the election that had caused him to go a bit insane.

He was indeed horrified when he found a portrait talking to him, and that was not to mention that when a man who claimed to be a wizard jumped out of the fireplace and shook hands with him, he was even more frightened and overwhelmed.

He said nothing, and Fudge kindly explained that there were still wizards living secretly around the world today, and comforted him by saying that he didn't need to worry about these things, because the Ministry of Magic had the responsibility to manage the entire wizarding world and keep it from non-wizards.

their existence.

Fudge said that this was a very difficult job, covering everything from regulating the responsible use of broomsticks to controlling and governing all fire dragons (the Prime Minister remembered that he couldn't help but hold on tightly when he heard this)

table to prevent yourself from falling).

After Fudge finished speaking, he patted the still stunned Prime Minister on the shoulder like a loving father.

"Don't worry," he said, "you probably won't see me again. I will only bother you if we have serious trouble there that might affect Muggles, that is, non-wizards.

.

Other than that, just let nature take its course. By the way, I have to say that your attitude towards accepting this matter is much better than that of your predecessor.

He thought I was a liar sent by his political enemies to throw me out of the window."

At this time, the Prime Minister finally found a chance to speak.

"So, you - are not a liar?"

This is the only slim hope he has left.

"no,"

Fudge said gently, "Sorry, I'm not.

look."

As he spoke, he waved his magic wand and turned the Prime Minister's teacup into a gerbil.

"But," said the Prime Minister breathlessly, staring at his cup of tea as he chewed on his next speech, "but why - why didn't anyone tell me -?"

"The Minister of Magic only reveals his identity in front of the ruling Muggle Prime Minister."

Fudge said as he inserted his wand back into his clothes, "We think this is the best way to stay hidden."

"But," the Prime Minister said in a trembling voice, "why didn't the previous Prime Minister remind me——"

After hearing this, Fudge actually laughed out loud.

"My dear Prime Minister, will you tell others?"

Still laughing, Fudge threw some powder into the fireplace, stepped into the emerald green flames, and disappeared with a whoosh.

The Prime Minister stood there motionless. He knew that as long as he was alive, he would never dare to mention this meeting to anyone. Who in the world would believe him?

After a while, his frightened heart slowly calmed down. He once tried to convince himself that Fudge was just an illusion. He had such an illusion because he was exhausted mentally and physically due to the campaign and lacked sleep.

.

To rid himself of all reminders of this unpleasant interview, he gave the gerbil to his delighted niece, and ordered his private secretary to remove the portrait of the ugly little man who had announced Fudge's visit.

But what greatly frustrated him was that he couldn't get rid of the portrait.

They used several carpenters, one or two construction workers, an art historian, and the finance minister to try and pry it off the wall, but all failed.

Finally the Prime Minister gave up trying and just wanted the thing to remain still and silent for as long as he was in office.

Occasionally, he was sure that out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of the person in the portrait yawning or scratching his nose, and once or twice he even walked out of the frame, leaving only an empty khaki canvas.

However, the Prime Minister trained himself not to look at the portrait too often. Whenever something strange like this happened, he always firmly told himself that his eyes were deceiving him.

Then, three years ago, on a night like today, when the Prime Minister was alone in his office, the portrait announced that Fudge was coming, and then Fudge jumped out of the fireplace, wet as a drowned rat.

, looking panicked.

Before the Prime Minister could ask him why he had dripped all the water on the Axminster pile carpet, Fudge started talking angrily about a prison the Prime Minister had never heard of, a prison called

The man who was called "Little Bad Wolf" Black, a man who sounded like something from Hogwarts, and a boy named Harry Potter, the Prime Minister was so confused that he had no idea what he was talking about.

something.

"I just came from Azkaban."

Fudge gasped, pouring a large amount of water from the brim of his bowler hat into his pocket, "You know, it's a rough road out in the middle of the North Sea... The Dementors rebelled—

—”

He shuddered, "——They have never had a prison break before.

Anyway, I have to come to you, Prime Minister.

Black is a famous Muggle killer, but he is probably planning to join You-Know-Who's gang... Of course, you don't even know who You-Know-Who is!"

He looked at the Prime Minister helplessly for a moment and said, "Oh, sit down, sit down, I'd better tell you in detail... have a glass of whiskey..."

Although he was in the Prime Minister's office, the other party ordered him to sit down and invited him to drink his own whiskey.

The Prime Minister was very annoyed, but he sat down anyway.

Fudge took out his wand and conjured two large glasses out of thin air, filled with amber liquid. He pushed one of them into the Prime Minister's hand, and then dragged over a chair.

Fudge talked for more than an hour. When he reached a certain place, he refused to say a name out loud. He wrote it on a piece of parchment and stuffed it into the Prime Minister's hand that was not holding whiskey.

Finally, Fudge stood up to leave, and the Prime Minister stood up as well.

"So, do you think..." He narrowed his eyes and looked at the name in his left hand, "Fudi——"

"The devil who must not even be named!"

"I'm sorry...you think that the devil who must not even be named is still alive, don't you?"

"Yes, that's what Dumbledore said," Fudge said, tucking his pinstriped cloak tightly under his chin, "but we never found him.

In my opinion, he's only a danger if he has support, so it's Black we have to worry about.

Will you publish that warning?

Very good.

Okay, I hope we won't meet again.

Prime Minister, good night."