Well of Shadows
All Fool's Day
By Ruskbyte
Chapter Twenty Seven
~ All Fool's Day ~
"Third principal application of aconite?"
"Wolfsbane potion."
"What must be added to triffid oil in order to make it soluble?"
"Iodine."
"How long must the Axolotl Potion be left to simmer?"
"Two days and nights."
"When are you going to put on some knickers?"
"What?!?!"
"Gotcha."
"Harry!" exclaimed Ginny in disbelief and more than a little disapproval, Hermione and Ron right alongside her, as Harry grinned wolfishly back at her.
It had been a month since the attack on Hogwarts by the Well of Shadows and Voldemort, heralding the coming of spring and (much to the fifth-years' dismay) the coming of the much dreaded and much maligned Ordinary Wizarding Levels. This was the reason why, despite Harry's injection of quirky (not to mention suggestive) humour, that the three older Gryffindor students were giving Ginny a quick test on potions - which was scheduled to be the first of this year's O.W.L.s.
Harry laughed as a fine blush rose to his girlfriend's face, tinting her cheeks the same red as her hair. He was hard pressed to decide who looked more scandalised by his question, Hermione or Ron. Hermione, no doubt, was appalled by Harry's apparent lack of concern in aiding Ginny study for her upcoming exams. Ron, without any doubt, was looking as wide-eyed as he was because he really did not want to hear Harry and Ginny discussing such matters in front of him.
"Come on, Gin," Harry told her, and by proxy his two best friends, "you know your Potions almost backwards and forwards. You can surely give it a rest until after breakfast, can't you?"
"Are you forgetting, Harry, exactly what I did to Snape last year?" retorted Ginny, looking a combination of frustrated and embarrassed at having to bring the subject up.
Harry shrugged. "So you may have bashed the smarmy git into the wall a bit..."
Hermione winced and added, "Unnecessarily."
"And he's been holding it against me ever since then," Ginny groaned. "This entire year's been one hellish Potions class after another - it's a miracle my grades have been as good as they are."
*Miracles have nothing to do with it, my dear.*
*The credit for your passable results lies solely upon the Order and our masterful tutelage of the subject of potion brewing.*
*Precisely.*
*As a matter of fact...*
Ginny groaned again, "Oh no, they're awake."
Ron looked at his sister as if she had just said something strange, which Harry supposed she had if you could not 'hear' the voices of the Order, and asked, "Who's awake?"
"Guess."
"Er..."
"She means the Order, Ron," explained Harry.
"Oh." Ron nodded in understanding. He considered that piece of information for a second before frowning in confusion and asking, "D'you mean they actually go to sleep like normal people?"
Harry blinked in surprise and said, "You know, I'd never really considered it."
~Of course they can't sleep~ declared Ginny silently, stepping up to Harry so that she could entwine her arm with his and resume their journey to the Great Hall. ~After all, they're all dead - have been for centuries. They don't have any bodies that need sleep.~
Or to smack if they irritate us, he ruefully agreed.
*Not all of us, I hope,* protested Merlin lightly. *I will admit that some of the more immature members of the Order do have a tendency to rub people the wrong way...*
*It's mostly that mead-guzzling oaf Loki that's at fault,* accused Osiris.
Loki immediately leapt to his own defence. *Me? You cause almost as much trouble as I do, you brainless Egyptian!*
Harry could almost see Osiris rising up in outrage. If he had been in the Grand Hall of the Phoenix, that is precisely what he would have seen. Though none of the past members of the Order had anything approaching a corporeal body in the real world, they did possess the ability to seem rather solid whilst in the metaphysical realm that contained their memories within the Order's precincts.
*Brainless? Are you daft, man?* Osiris practically bellowed, his accent growing thicker as he spoke. *My people built the temples, the obelisks, the Sphinx, the pyramids!*
The argument --which looked to become quite heated once the rest of the Order got involved-- faded into the background as both Harry and Ginny turned their minds outward and back to their walk though Hogwarts, where a peculiar noise had slowly caught their attention. It sounded, at least to Harry's ears, rather like a cross between a female hippopotamus in labour and Dudley complaining about not having enough to eat, only not in English.
Ron was the first to comment on it. "Listen... d'you hear that?"
"Yeah," confirmed Ginny, cocking her head to one side and focusing on the noise in an attempt to identify the source. Her eyebrows, at first drawn together in concentration, rose up almost to her hairline in amazement. When she finally spoke, it was more a question that anything else, checking to see if the others were hearing the same. "It sounds like... Crabbe and Goyle?"
"Singing the Barber of Seville?" asked Hermione, looking both aghast and amused.
Harry listened intently for a moment, verifying Ginny and Hermione's conclusions. It did indeed sound very much like Malfoy's former bodyguards engaged in a hearty rendition of Rossini's opera. Either that or they were being tortured under the Cruciatus Curse. Regardless of the cause, the sound was not pleasant to listen to, even at such a distance away from the singers as the four Gryffindors currently were. It did not take long for Harry to suggest an appropriate plan of action.
"Let's go this way instead."
"Good idea," agreed Ginny, already turning down the side corridor Harry had indicated.
"Best one I've heard this morning," concurred Hermione.
As they had already been a short distance from the Great Hall before beginning their detour, the quartet arrived for breakfast only a minute or so later than they would have. Making their way to the Gryffindor table, Harry was suspicious to note that everyone was having breakfast - seemingly in a calm, collected manner and without half the ruckus he had been expecting this morning. The only odd thing he could see was that all four tables seemed to have a greater than normal amount of tomatoes arrayed on side dishes with the rest of the food.
Taking his seat, Ginny on his right and Hermione on his left, he reached for a platter of sausages and began serving himself breakfast. As he speared a couple of the sausages with his fork, transferring them to his plate, Harry remembered something and silently checked with Ginny. Hey Gin? Today's the first of April, isn't it? April Fools?
~Oh Circe's liver~ was Ginny's response as she paused in gathering her own meal and turned to look at him with wide eyes. ~Is that today? Already?~
I'll take that as a yes?
~Yes, though heaven only knows how it slipped my mind~ she answered. Suddenly she froze in place and started looking about her in a suspicious manner. You don't think they're going to go through with it, do you?
They're your brothers, he replied. You should know them better than I do.
Ginny continued to look around the hall. ~Perhaps, but it's you that's their business partner. Shouldn't you be in the loop when it comes to the... how did they put it in their letter? The grand opening?~
Harry shrugged, I suppose. All I really know is they'll be opening the shop they've arranged in Diagon Alley at noon today.
~Maybe we'll be spared then~ Ginny silently hoped. ~Not even Fred and George could set off a prank at Hogwarts when they're in London.~
"We should be thankful for small mercies," he told her.
"I can't stand it when you two do that," interjected Ron, while spreading a thick layer of grape jam on his toast. When both Harry and Ginny looked at him he elaborated. "Hold conversations in your heads like that and only speaking the odd sentence out loud. It's spooky."
*Coming from someone who lives in a castle filled with ghosts, that's not saying very much.*
Harry shrugged and turned back to the fried tomatoes he was helping himself to. Oddly enough he could have sworn that the fresh tomatoes, sitting in a bowl a short distance down the table, let loose soft and furious hisses as he did so.
*I zink, 'Arry, zat maybe you should avoid ze tomatoes,* advised Joan.
Ginny, having also turned back to her breakfast, looked up at the sound of wings beating and announced, "Owl post's right on time."
Glancing up Harry could see that she was correct and that close to a hundred owls had streamed into the Great Hall and were circling about. Looking them over Harry quickly determined that Hedwig, his faithful snowy owl, was not amongst them and so turned back to gathering his breakfast.
He was only peripherally aware of one barn owl dropping Hermione's Daily Prophet, to which she still had a subscription for some reason or other, in her lap. He could hear her unfolding the newspaper as he helped himself to some scrambled eggs. He had just started searching for a salt shaker when Hermione's sharp intake of breath reached his ears.
"Harry," Hermione called his name. "I think you'd better read this."
Harry looked at her, noting the peculiar expression on her face. Arching an eyebrow he reached over and took the sheaf of paper she was holding out for him. Glancing curiously as her and receiving only a silent urging to start reading, he pushed his plate out of the way and unfolded the newspaper to the front page.
MINISTER OF MAGIC INVOLVED IN BLOODY COVER-UP!
By Rita Skeeter.
Suffice to say, the headline caught Harry's attention and held it. He looked up from the paper and at Hermione, whose expression was now one of mixed satisfaction and apprehension.
"Rita Skeeter," Harry breathed.
"I'd almost forgotten that we'd set her on the Minister during Halloween," mused Ginny, leaning over to Harry's shoulder so that she could read the article at the same time.
Harry resumed reading.
In a special report this morning freelance reporter Rita Skeeter, who has been on extended leave since the events following the Triwizard Tournament and You-Know-Who's return, has uncovered top-secret documentation revealing that current Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, has been instrumental in a massive cover-up involving the deaths of over one hundred witches and wizards last August.
Sources in the Ministry reveal that Fudge, who has thus far declined to make an official statement, repressed a Department of Mysteries report detailing the discovery of evidence indicating the completion of a highly organised ceremony in early August last year. The ceremony's victims, ranging from ten to sixty-six years of age, were used as sacrifices in the ritual used to create a Well of Shadows.
Information released shortly after the start of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry’s new school year, reveals that Draco Malfoy, son of convicted felon and Death Eater Lucius Malfoy, was the recipient of the Well of Shadows. As reported by this newspaper in our edition on the fifth of September, Draco Malfoy, who was supposed to be starting his sixth year of study at Hogwarts, revealed his new status on the first day of term in a terrifying display that cumulated in the deaths of six Hogwarts students and numerous injuries.
Under-Secretary to the Minister, Dolores Umbridge, refused to comment on accusations that many of Minister Fudge's personal staff aided him the suppression of the report. However, inquiries made by the Internal Affairs Branch have revealed the possible existence of a conspiracy in the Ministry's upper echelons with the apparent goal of keeping knowledge hidden from the public eye.
Further examination of confiscated Ministry reports and memorandums suggest that it was the intention of those accused to prevent Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, and Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, from learning of the successful completion of a Well of Shadows summoning ceremony. Reasons for this action have not been provided, but at this time it appears to stem from a well-documented personal grudge between the Minister and young Mister Potter.
"This is incredible," Harry finally said, setting the paper down.
"I know," agreed Hermione. "I never imagined..."
Ginny laughed softly and shook her head in disbelief. "She did it. She actually did it."
Ron, who had appropriated his own copy of the Daily Prophet to read, tossed the newspaper back to the impatient looking second-year Ravenclaw he had taken it from. He shook his head, much like his sister, and muttered, "This is incredible."
*If I'm not mistaken, you already said that, Harry.*
"Oh, shut up. This is important."
"Hey!" protested Ron, looking hurt by Harry's exclamation.
Harry shook his head and apologised. "Not you, Ron. I was talking to Iphicles."
*Sorry...*
"So..." Ginny propped herself against the table with her elbows. "It looks like we'll have a new Minister of Magic before too long. Possibly an entirely new administration in the Ministry as well."
"I hope Dad doesn't get caught up in this," worried Ron, gnawing at his bottom lip as he considered the possibility.
Any further concern about the forthcoming trouble in the Ministry did not so much come to an abrupt end as it died a painful death when the Great Hall --particularly in the vicinity of the Slytherin table-- erupted with shouts, odd squelching noises and a series of loud bangs that preceded the launch of a dazzling display of fireworks into the air.
Now Open for Business
Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes
Shop Ninety-Seven
Diagon Alley
The blazing lights had flashed and flared in every colour imaginable as they coalesced into the sparkling sign that advertised the much-anticipated grand opening of Fred and George's joke, prank and novelty item shop - specially timed to take place on the one day of the year when such items were always in their greatest demand.
"Mother of..." breathed Ginny in awe, watching as the crackling sign burst into a sparkling array of fiery dragons and griffins before slowly fading away. "They did it. Those crazy bastards actually managed to pull it off."
So impressive, not to mention unexpected, was this display, that it took nearly a full minute before anyone realized that the Slytherins were continuing to shout and scream and holler and otherwise make something of a racket. It took even longer for the other occupants of the Great Hall to realize that the Slytherins were not actually complaining or protesting, but rather trying to deal with what at first looked like an especially bloody attack on everyone in their house. It was only when Harry recognised just what it was that was assaulting the Slytherins that he realized the blood --as he had first mistaken it for-- was something else all together.
Tomatoes.
Their soft skins were split into what looked like eyes, nostrils and fang-filled mouths, giving them an appearance rather similar to a Halloween jack-o-lantern, only red rather than orange. Armed with only these caricatured features, and a rather suspect method of locomotion, the tomatoes were rolling and hopping up and down the length of the house table and launching themselves at the wide-eyed and seemingly panic-stricken Slytherins.
*I told you to avoid ze tomatoes,* said Joan smugly.
Harry watched as Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode ran screaming from the Great Hall, a dozen or so fresh tomatoes rolling and bouncing after both of them. He could only shake his head and resume eating his eggs. "Sometimes it's better not to ask."
"Y'know, I used to delude myself into believing that this place would calm down after Fred and George had left," mused Ron, still watching as the tomatoes continued to attack any Slytherins they could find.
"Not likely," Hermione told him, "they merely raised the bar to new heights."
Ron looked away from the carnage, as it was, and looked at her in puzzlement. "I don't remember them ever doing anything to the Three Broomsticks."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Never mind."
Harry, however, was still preoccupied by the article in the Prophet. He looked at the newspaper, which he had situated next to his plate, and skimmed over it once again. He noticed that Fudge, or the front page picture of him at least, seemed to be gnashing his teeth in frustration as reporters kept on silently badgering him with questions and camera flashes.
~Worried?~ asked Ginny, reaching out to turn the newspaper so that she would not have to crane her neck as much to look at it.
Shouldn't I be? he replied. Fudge may be an incompetent buffoon that couldn't find his own arse if you handed it to him, but he can still cause damage, as this proves.
*Not for much longer from the look of things,* observed Isis.
Romulus agreed, *If there is an inquiry as the article claims there might...*
Harry shook his head. "He'll fight it."
"Even a vote of no confidence?" asked Hermione, apparently understanding his meaning, even if she had not heard the entirety of the conversation up until them.
"I don't doubt that he will be removed from office," Harry told her grimly, "but what frightens me is how much trouble he'll stir up trying to avoid the inevitable."
*That's one of the risks you have to take,* Merlin told him.
*Especially when you set an unscrupulous, not to mention possibly rabid, reporter on the trail of a story that you knew could lead to this situation.*
*Toppling governments is a tricky business, Harry.*
Are you saying you have experience in matters like this?
*Absolutely none.*
*And I've got even less.*
*Same here.*
*Me too.*
*Sorry, can't help yeh.*
Ginny frowned. ~I do not find that reassuring.~
***
The remainder of April Fool's Day proceeded in much the same manner as breakfast. Various classrooms, corridors and chambers would unexpectedly explode into Technicolor firework displays proclaiming the opening of Fred and George's joke shop. Naturally each advertisement was closely followed by an audacious prank which supposedly demonstrated the twin's wares. Ginny and Ron, knowing their brothers as they did, said that this was simply an added bonus as far as they were concerned.
As a result of Fred and George's marketing campaign not many lessons were able to proceed as planned. The students were either delighted or furious - depending on whether or not they fell prey to any of the assorted pranks. The professors appeared to become resigned to the fact that nothing much could be taught, and one or two simply sat back to wait and enjoy the next spectacle of the day.
By the time lunch came around everyone was beginning to get into the spirit of the thing and almost nobody was spared a prank or more at their expense - particularly Professor Snape for some reason, though the Gryffindors denied any involvement. Only the fifth and seventh-years were unappreciative of the day's laidback approach and lack of productivity. This was primarily because they were more concerned with studying for their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s than they were with having a laugh.
By dinner, however, even they had surrendered to the inevitable and joined in sitting at their house tables in anticipation of the final climactic encounter of the day. Little did they know the extent and importance of what they were about to witness, even though its consequences would prove more far-reaching than any of them could possibly believe.
Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione were sitting at the Gryffindor table --granting the tomatoes a judicious amount of distance-- when Harry spotted Cho Chang making her way towards them from the Ravenclaw table across the hall. She was looking up and down the length of the Gryffindor table, a faint frown on her brow, seemingly searching for someone.
"Hello, Harry," she greeted as she reached them.
"Hi, Cho," replied Harry, looking up from his dinner. "What brings you over here? Looking for Neville?"
"As a matter of fact, yes," Cho confirmed. She looked up and down the table yet again before asking, "Where is he?"
Ron, not pausing from eating, answered, "In the Hospital Wing."
Cho, quite understandably, looked at him in alarm. Neville, as everyone at Hogwarts knew, was accident prone to a startling degree. "What?"
"He had a slight accident in Care of Magical Creatures," explained Harry, trying to sound calm about it, but not able to repress a faint smile as he remembered the incident.
Ron elaborated around a mouthful of steak, "He ran into a tree and broke his nose."
Cho looked from Ron to Harry in disbelief. She blinked several times, clearly trying to process what she had been told, and asked, "What on earth does Hagrid have you studying that could make Neville run into a tree?"
Harry smiled impishly and asked in return, "I don't suppose you've ever heard of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal?"
"A mind-bogglingly stupid animal," explained Hermione when Cho shook her head, "that assumes if you can't see it, then it can't see you."
"Daft as a brush," added Ron, helping himself to more potatoes, "but very very ravenous."
"Oh no, I think I can see where this is heading..." groaned Cho.
Harry chuckled and explained not only for Cho but also for Ginny, who had been in Charms at the time, "Neville volunteered to demonstrate how to avoid looking at it by wrapping a towel around his head."
Hermione sighed and tried valiantly not to smile as she continued. "Unfortunately Fang decided to join us around about that time."
Cho looked puzzled and asked, "Fang?"
"Hagrid's dog," Ginny clarified.
"The one with only one head, thank goodness," noted Ron, serving only to confuse Cho more and cause her to look at him strangely. Despite the fact that Harry's first-year adventure involving the Philosopher's Stone was common knowledge, not everybody knew the particulars. Even those who knew about Fluffy, and his role in guarding the third-floor corridor, minor details such as Hagrid's name for the beast.
Hermione waved Ron back to his meal. "Anyways, Neville got into a bit of a panic when Fang ran up to him --he thought it was the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast-- and, well, one thing led to another."
Cho lowered her head in resignation. "Oh dear."
"Don't worry," Harry told her, reaching up to pat her shoulder. "Madam Pomfrey will be done with him before dinner's over."
The unexpected swinging open of the doors leading from the Entrance Hall into the Great Hall --Harry was still unable to work out why they always seemed to be closed, in spite of the traffic through them all the time-- caused the noise level at all four house tables, as well as the staff table, to drop to next to nothing as people noticed the new arrival.
Harry, who had at first just glanced in that direction, could not prevent his eyebrows from nearly shooting off his head as Cornelius Fudge stomped angrily into the room. The Minister's lime green bowler hat seemed in imminent danger of toppling off his head as he marched furiously down the row between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables.
"He has more balls than a Quidditch team," commented Cho, looking at the man with an expression of obvious distaste, "coming in here after this morning's Prophet."
"Don't worry," Hermione assured the Ravenclaw witch, her voice clipped and carrying a dangerous undertone. The normally reserved young witch was glaring at Fudge in a manner that slightly worried Harry. "Once I'm through with that egotistical prat, he'll be a eunuch."
Ron, seemingly also picking up on his girlfriend's dangerous disposition, placed a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to calm her down. "Hermione..."
Unfortunately, before Ron could do more, Fudge strode right up in front of the four Gryffindors - almost knocking Cho aside in his haste. His face was a curious mixture of pale and blotched red as he began to speak, in an imperious tone, "Harry Potter--"
Hermione, actually baring her teeth, interrupted him with a snarl. "What the bloody blue blazes are you doing here?"
Fudge blinked in surprise and stammered for a few seconds, apparently finding himself at something of a loss. Gathering himself, by attempting to stand straight, he glared at Hermione and audibly ground his teeth as he grated, "I will not be spoken to in such a manner!"
"I'll speak to you however I like, you great moronic oaf!" countered Hermione, rising from her place at the Gryffindor house table and turning to confront the Minister head on.
"I won't stand for this!" bellowed Fudge, his face flushing almost purple.
"Oh? Would you rather we get on our knees and sing your praises?" asked Harry, also rising to his feet and turning to face Fudge. He looked down at the Minister, he was nearly half a foot taller than the other man, and noted bitingly, "You seem to have forgotten the exact nature of your position, Fudge. You are the Minister of Magic. It's your job to serve and protect the people who elected you as their supposed leader. Not the other way around."
"Don't think that you have any influence whatsoever over me any more," Fudge hissed angrily, pointing an accusing finger at Harry. He backed away a step, a look of satisfaction on his podgy features as he said, "I had the last vial of that Set's Bride which you supposedly gave me last Christmas analysed by the best Potion Masters in Britain... it was water!!"
"Of course it was," snapped Hermione. She was looking at Fudge as though he were possibly the stupidest creature she had ever seen - which Harry supposed was probably true. "He wouldn't be much of a hero for the light if he went around poisoning people just to get his way. Unlike you, Harry isn't a pathetic--"
Ron, who was now also standing, took Hermione by both shoulders and turned her away from the flustered Minister before she could tear into him any more. Harry shared a worried glance with him as he pulled her back a step or two, leaving only Harry and Ginny standing immediately in front of Fudge. Neither of the two young wizards could really believe that Hermione had reacted in such a manner - it was certainly out of character for someone who was normally exceptionally respectful of any authority figure.
Even the various members of the Order seemed impressed by her outspoken criticism. Osiris was the first to comment on it, sounding particularly delighted. *I never thought I'd live to see the day that the know-it-all ripped into the Minister of Magic like that.*
*You're dead, remember?* Alexander reminded him, *You didn't live to see the day.*
*Details, details.*
Ginny, who was standing by Harry's side, took her turn to speak to the Minister. "In any case, it doesn't matter. Harry got you to admit that Tom has returned. Having accomplished that - you're no longer of any use to us."
"Tom? Tom?" repeated Fudge, looking completely lost. "Who the bloody Hades is Tom?"
"Tom Marvolo Riddle," Ginny answered calmly and with just a hint of disapproval in her voice, as though Fudge had somehow missed the blindingly obvious. "The most dangerous dark lord to have risen this century."
"You're that simpleton Weasley's child, aren't you?" Fudge asked, looking at her properly for the first time. His mouth curled into an unfavourably sneer as he said, "I shouldn't be surprised that you're spouting such nonsense."
*Vaporise this imbecile,* urged Iolaus. *Better yet, hex him all the way back to his office in London.*
Tempting, but inappropriate, replied Harry.
~I might just do it anyway, Harry~ Ginny growled silently, her bubbling anger making itself felt though their connection. ~You heard what he said about my dad.~
"Hardly, Cornelius," observed a calm but authoritive voice which drew everyone's attention to one side. Standing not far from where they were having their confrontation, was Professor Dumbledore. He had apparently come down from the staff table, unobserved, and had only now decided to make his presence known to them. "Indeed, Virginia has been perfectly correct in her statement."
Seeing the blank look in Fudge's eyes, Harry began to trace lines in the air with his index finger as he explained. "Tom Marvolo Riddle," he said, once he had finished writing the name in fiery red and gold letters - which hung suspended in midair. Aware that everyone in the Great Hall was watching closely, particularly the students, Harry reached out and began to nudge the letters into the phrase which caused many of those observing to shudder.
Fudge looked at the words hovering before him in disbelief and awe. His mouth opened and closed silently several times before he managed to half-whisper, "By the Maker."
"Lord Voldemort. Tom Riddle," supplied Ginny, waving her hand through the words and causing them to dissipate.
"Despite however much you'd like to protest over it, however much you try to stick your head in the ground and ignore it, Voldemort is back," declared Harry. "Getting you to admit the fact, even if I had to resort to such methods, was far more important to the safety of the world than catering to your idiotic ego."
"I'll have your wand snapped in two for this, Potter!" yelled Fudge, apparently of the opinion that if he made a big enough noise about it he would actually be able to accomplish it.
"Wand?" Harry made a display of holding his empty hands up for all to see. He looked at Fudge in mock puzzlement and asked, "What wand?"
*Not very observant, is he?*
~To be fair, Isis, not very many people have noticed that Harry's given me his wand to use until I get mine replaced~ Ginny reluctantly admitted.
*Perhaps, but still...*
"I haven't used a wand, Fudge, since shortly after the last attack on Hogwarts," Harry explained for everyone to hear. He ducked his head fractionally so that he could glare at the Minister from beneath his lashes - something that he knew made him look more than a little menacing. "You remember the attack, don't you?" he asked softly, but using the Order's power to project his words throughout the hall. He stepped closer to Fudge, who was beginning to look apprehensive as Harry bore down on him. "The one your blind obstinance aided in the implementation of?"
The Great Hall was deathly silent, save for the soft rap of Harry's dragon hide boots on the stone floor and Fudge - who was breathing heavily as he backed away from Harry as he pressed closer to Fudge with each step.
"How many people died, Minister," Harry asked insistently, having backed Fudge into the Hufflepuff table until the shorter wizard could no longer retreat without tripping over the bench of students behind him, "because of what you did? Tell me - how many?"
"I - I don't know," Fudge admitted desperately.
"Well, I do," snapped Harry, his temper momentarily getting the better of his control and almost managing to slip to the surface. As it was the air about him was crackling and shimmering with the energy flocking around him. "D'you want me to list their names for you? In alphabetical order?"
Dumbledore, who had been watching closely, stepped forward and spoke soothingly to Harry before his magic could take any unintentional action. "I don't believe that will be necessary, Harry."
"I believe it is," Harry replied curtly. He looked at Dumbledore and nodded his head at Fudge, who was trying to regain his composure. "This... travesty of a Minister has, through his negligence, cost hundreds - thousands of people their lives."
*Listen to Dumbledore, Harry,* urged Sun Tzu.
*Yes, he does have a point,* agreed Quetz. *You don't need to utterly destroy Fudge, however gratifying it might be, especially when he seems to be doing a good enough job of it on his own.*
*He's practically committed political suicide coming here to confront you like this.*
Harry glanced to his side and met Ginny's gaze. He knew she would support him fully in just about anything, but some part of him cringed at the thought of having her watch him verbally batter Fudge into a blubbering mass - even if the Minister deserved it. Heaving a deep breath and letting it out in a long sigh, Harry turned his back on Fudge and reluctantly agreed, "Perhaps you're right, Albus. There's no point in wasting my time or effort on this... politician."
"I will not rest until I have you for this, Potter!" Fudge all but shouted, apparently not able to recognise that Harry had just completely dismissed him.
"You can try," answered Harry, not bothering to turn around as he resumed his place at the dinner table. "You won't succeed."
"Don't be so sure of that, you insolent brat!" snarled Fudge, clearly incensed that Harry was being so indifferent to his threat. "I am the Minister of Magic."
Harry still did not turn to look at the Minister, but he did incline his head a fraction as he agreed, "For the moment, but not for very much longer."
"Quite true, Harry," agreed Dumbledore. The headmaster was favouring Fudge with an almost pitying expression as he spoke. "I have very little doubt that once this encounter between the two of you becomes public knowledge --which it no doubt shall once all our students write home about it-- that you, Cornelius, will be finding yourself on the wrong side of the Wizengamot."
"Mark my words, boy - and you too, Dumbledore," Fudge declared, jabbing his finger from one to the other. "Once I'm done with you, you shall both rue this day."
"If anyone's going to rue the day, Minister" --Harry spat the man's title-- "it will be you. I guarantee it."
"Is that a threat?"
"If you want to make it one."
Nobody spoke as Fudge alternately turned ghostly pale and then a livid red before jerking away and storming out of the Great Hall in a huff of indignant fury. Harry, remaining unmoved at the Gryffindor table, resumed his dinner as though nothing had happened and was soon joined by Ginny, Ron and Hermione. It was not until Dumbledore returned to his place at the staff table that the normal level of conversation resumed.
Suffice to say, the next morning's Daily Prophet would prove to be an interesting read.
TBC...