Chapter 14: Chapter 14: The Minister's Anger
Disclaimer:
Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
I own nothing but the original characters I make.
"Dialogue"
'Thoughts'
-Author notes-
Chapter 14: The Minister's Anger
"Albus, there you are." Minister Fudge was standing in the middle of the room, with two tough-looking Aurors at his side.
"About time… do you have any idea of the night I had?!"
"I can imagine, Cornelius. Don't think that mine has been any better," Dumbledore responded.
"Oh, but it has. A moment ago, I was in Azkaban when they called me to come here. Apparently, someone had sneaked into the prison and killed an Auror."
"What? Someone sneaked into Azkaban? Who could do such a thing? And for what reason..." Dumbledore frowned.
This could not be a coincidence. Something like that had never occurred before, and it just so happens today...when Voldemort came back to life?
"Yes, well, I would love to know that too. But we have no suspects so far," the Minister said.
"What's the name of the Auror?!"
A loud shout came from the other side.
"Mister Moody, I told you to not move from the bed yet." Madam Pomfrey hurried to his side while the others turned their attention to him.
"Ah, you are awake, Alastor. I had been meaning to speak with yo—" Dumbledore was not allowed to finish his sentence before Moody repeated the question, this time louder.
"Lower your voice, please. We have patients trying to rest here." Madam Pomfrey's tone had turned much more strict.
"The name of the Auror is… ehmm…" The Minister glanced at the two Aurors behind him for help.
"I believe the last name of the new recruit was Graham, although I don't know his first name," the Auror responded.
"Graham… I see, so it wasn't her." Moody seemed somewhat relieved. Last year, he had recommended his best student for a rotation in Azkaban, thinking that dealing with the prisoners there would be a good way to gain experience without being in much danger.
"I want to get to the point, but first… where is the criminal?" Fudge looked around. "I was told he was being kept here."
"He is in the last bed," McGonagall pointed. "He is restrained and we placed a powerful Sleeping Charm on him."
"You are keeping that bastard here?!" Moody had obviously not been informed of this.
The Minister made a beeline to the bed and pulled the curtains away.
"Merlin! It really is him… Barty Crouch Junior is still alive…" He glanced at Dumbledore. "What of the father?"
"St. Mungo's. He is in a coma… I'm afraid it doesn't seem likely for him to wake up any time soon. He was kept under the Imperius Curse for too long," Dumbledore said.
"Bastard…" Fudge was staring at Crouch Junior with barely contained rage. "At least, he will soon be paying for his crimes at least." He made a gesture to the Aurors. "Take him away, boys. Directly to Azkaban to await his execution."
"Hold on a minute, Cornelius. I would like to speak with him before that," Dumbledore was very insistent on this.
As of right now, he had little evidence of Voldemort's return. It was unclear if Harry would regain his memories of the event, and he would need something more solid to present his case before the Ministry.
Barty Crouch Junior must have important memories he could use to further his plans.
"Not a chance," Fudge huffed. "This man is a mass murderer and has evaded justice for too long. No more…"
Moody stood up with the help of a cane that the nurse had left for him. "I agree with Albus on this one. I would also like to know wh—"
"Nonsense!" Fudge sounded furious as he looked at them. "Don't get me started with you two." He pointed at Moody. "You let this bastard kidnap you and keep you locked up for almost a year… and you!" He now pointed at Dumbledore. "You had this impostor in Hogwarts all this time and never suspected anything?! How can the 'Greatest Wizard in the World'... be so incompetent?"
Dumbledore had no response to that. At least not one that would make him look good. He did indeed suspect that Professor Moody had been an impostor sent by Voldemort, but he took a more passive approach and merely observed instead of intervening. Because if he did that, next time he might not have figured out Voldemort's plan before it was too late.
"Take him away already," Fudge ordered the two Aurors, and they hurried to bring Barty Crouch Junior out of the infirmary.
"Now…" The Minister was not done yet. "They told me that you also lost two boys today. One of them being 'The Boy Who Lived'… for your own good, I hope that part was not true."
"Actually… we have been able to find Harry Potter. He is currently resting on that bed," Dumbledore said.
McGonagall threw him a side glance. Harry came back by himself… and they were yet to find the other boy.
"Some good news, at least." Fudge looked somewhat relieved. "And the other one?"
"We will have him before night, I'm sure of it," Dumbledore added. "But there is something I wanted to discuss with you, Cornelius. It's about the one responsible for all of this happening today. I believe tha—"
"What are you talking about? We already have the one responsible." Fudge interrupted.
"One of them, yes. But we have reason to believe that he was merely following orders from someone else."
"From who?" Fudge asked.
"About that…" Dumbledore didn't want to say it out loud. The Minister would never believe him like that. "I'm still not sure."
"Then leave it to the Aurors to figure it out." Fudge glanced at Moody. "Isn't that right?"
"Aye. I'm sure Madam Bones has already mobilized the entire Auror force to solve this." Moody could not help but agree.
Fudge pointed at Harry's bed. "Let me know when Mister Potter wakes up. I would very much like to speak with him. I'm going to need something good to tell the press in the morning…" He rubbed his temple. This had not been a good week.
"I will, of course." Dumbledore tried to hide his displeasure. The conversation had not gone the way he wanted at all.
They had taken away the Death Eater, and he could not get the Minister to cooperate with him without revealing things that he didn't want to be revealed.
His blue eyes turned to the bed where Harry was lying. His best hope was in the boy remembering something in the morning.
While the adults finished their conversation and left the infirmary, Harry had been listening to everything they had said with rasp attention.
Pretending to be asleep had yielded an unexpected gain.
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