“The Goblin Crusher has done it again. Witnesses from Gringotts have claimed that Cornelius Fudge, our newly elected minister of magic, has been threatening the Goblins during his daily visits. Not only so, he was said to be seen throwing one over a cliff as a warning to the rest.
How far will Cornelius fudge go just to get his dirty hands on Gringotts? One can’t really tell. All we do know is that our beloved minister has no respect for other magical creatures, as he undermines their value….”
“Bloody rumours. They don’t know what they are writing about,” his assistant said as Cornelius Fudge threw The Quibbler into the fireplace.
“I need some time alone, to think,” Cornelius said as he waved for his assistant to leave. His assistant nodded and left his side immediately.
“Goblin crusher. Couldn’t come up with a better name could they?” Cornelius scoffed.
As he took a seat by the fireplace, the sun was already slowly setting, casting hard shadows in his office. Its weak rays found a spot on the coffee table, where a draft of tomorrow’s Daily Prophet lay.
Its headlines read, ” Minister of Magic denies Goblin rumors” right above a picture of Cornelius Fudge in his best pressed suit.
“Our newly elected Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, denies the claims of his violent acts towards the Goblins at Gringotts Bank.
“The Quibbler, like many other non-commercialized newspapers, is only seeking attention once again. Spreading rumors has always been their forte, and it is our duty not to buy into such rumors, to keep the peace among our people,” says the minister of magic.”
By the time Cornelius had relived the day of which he gave that statement, his office was finally swallowed with darkness. But the flickering light from the dim fireplace failed to hide the satisfaction on his face. Once again, he knew he had done it. He was untouchable, no matter what those who were against him say or do.
But how, how did they manage to get such information of him? That was the question that kept bothering him. He had never failed to be discreet, and just as he was about to brush the thought aside, a memory slipped right onto the tip of his mind.
It had been raining for days, but Cornelius did not find it as an excuse not to pay his little friends a visit. He had been informed that a group of his wildly intelligent friends were gathering by a clearing in the forest, to discuss on how they could black mail him. And so before they could decided, he was going to barge in and offer them a solution.
Together with his trusted assistant, his wand, he stormed into the clearing. Rain pelted on his heated face, and when they saw him, they tried to scatter. But to his delight, they could not escape from his binding spells.
As he rounded their stiff bodies and assembled them in front of him, he asked one simple question, “Who’s in charge?”
But none of them dared to answer as they started breaking into cold sweat.
“Tell me, or I’ll drop him!” Cornelius ordered as he moved a goblin towards the edge of a cliff and hovered him in the air with his wand.
Only shivers and whimpers could be heard from the small crowd of drenched goblins.
“Fine,” Cornelius said as he pulled his wand away and a scream echoed the air.
“Who’s next?!” Cornelius asked.
Just when one of them was about to answer, he heard a crack. It was distinct even under the pouring rain. As he searched among the trees, he spotted a figure, running away from the scene.
His heart stopped briefly before he dashed after it. It was small and fast, but he could not make out what it was. When he finally came out of the forest into the nearby town, he knew he had lost it. He decided not to return to the goblins as leaving them there would teach them a lesson about treachery. But he kept his eye out, just in case he was still being watched.
Drenched coat and soaked hat, Cornelius hurried to a nearby tavern for shelter. Once he had ordered a warm glass of butterbeer, he spotted something rather peculiar.
A few tables away from him was a child, who held a copy of the Daily Prophet upright, but upside down. Dripping on the floor around her were the water from her cloak in which she was still wearing.
As he stood up, certain he had caught the figure who was spying on him, a familiar voiced called out to him.
“Minister! What are you doing here on a rainy day?”
Turning around only to find the annoying Xenophilus Lovegood, Cornelius quickly searched for the child again, but she was gone. The only thing left of her was the puddle of water under her seat.
The puddle of water was painted so clearly in his mind that he knew that child was The Quibbler’s informer. But who was that child? Pale with dirty blond hair. Immediately it struck him, it was Lovegood’s daughter.
“Why, that man would use his own child?!” Cornelius was rather surprise.
But was there really anything to be surprise off? It was time for Cornelius to keep an eye out, especially on the little girl who might have already known too much.
And boy, did he dislike being around children after that. Their sneaky little hands could steal everything he had worked so hard for. Perhaps Cornelius Fudge would deny this, but he possibly feared children more than Dementors.
(Bestsellerteen requested a story on Cornelius Fudge, you can request a story too in the comments below!)