FHB: Chapter 25

Lucius sat on his bed for a very long time, contemplating if he should do as what the letter had asked of him. He knew what the right choice was, but did he want it? Somehow, free will was no longer a privilege in his life and he found himself deciding to go with the letter.

The following weekend, students were allowed to leave school grounds for a visit to Hogsmead. Lucius would normally stay back and lurk the hallways, but this time he went along. His only goal was to meet the Dark Lord and then return to school immediately after that. So, when everyone decided to grab a mug of butterbeer Lucius excused himself and headed to Potage Cauldron Shop instead.

Potage Cauldron Shop was a shop away from the busy street with a door that made no sound when opened. As Lucius stepped into the crowded cauldron stacked shop, he took hesitant steps and debated silently on whether to make his presence known. But just when he was about to say a ‘hello’, he heard a shuffling of feet.

Unlike most people who would voice their uneasiness, Lucius remained quiet and stood in place. He listened intently and when the shuffling stopped, he slowly turned to look behind him. It was then that he saw someone he least expected to see.

“Father?” Lucius asked in surprise.

His father simply nodded his head and gestured for Lucius to follow after him. Holding back the questions in his head, Lucius did as he was told and hurried after his father.

The two of them headed to the back of the shop and climbed down a flight of narrow, wooden steps. They creaked dangerously and Lucius held on to the pipes on the basement wall as he made the descent. When his feet finally touched the floor of the dark room, his father whispered a spell and the lantern at the corner lit up.

“Father, what is going on?” Lucius asked.

“I was sent here to pass you a message,” his father replied in a voice that carried unwillingness and dread.

“Was it you who wrote me the letter?”

“He wrote the letter, I sent it.”

Lucius had a feeling his father knew about the letters Lucius was receiving from the Dark Lord, and he quickly said, “I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid he would find out.”

“I know.”

“He might think I’m-”

“Weak,” his father interrupted. “I know.  He’s testing us, Lucius. Testing our loyalty. You did what you had to do.”

Lucius nodded his head. He was glad his father understood.

“Things will get harder now. He wants you to be marked,” his father added.

“The dark mark? But I’m still in school.”

“Not so soon. He needs you to do one thing for him, one thing very important.”

There was something about the way his father spoke that day that did not seem right. It was not just the words but the way he said them. Lucius did not know his father well, but he knew when someone was distracted. Wanting to relieve the worry that was apparent on his father’s face, Lucius asked, “What does he want me to do?”

That question was met with hesitation, that lingered for a while, freezing time as the pin drop silence began to ring in their ears. Lucius wanted to break it but he dared not. Fear knocked on his back door and he was suddenly scared to hear what was required of him.

“He…” his father paused briefly, “He wants you to recruit students.”

Lucius let the words sink in before asking, “Aren’t we too young?”

His father looked Lucius in the eye, as though to point out that Lucius was too young but still doing the Dark Lord’s bidding.

“Why?” Lucius could not help but ask.

“The younger, the better. It would also be the perfect timing when you finish school.”

Lucius merely stared at his father in response. The Dark Lord was depriving him of a schooling life and now he wanted to do the same to others. Lucius did not care about the others, but he found it hard to believe that children now had to choose sides. With Tanya starting her training as an auror and the Dark Lord recruiting children, he knew both sides were preparing for a war.

“I’m sorry, Lucius,” his father said.

Lucius gave his father a nod and immediately after, his father turned on his heels ready to leave.

“Wait, are you leaving?” Lucius quickly asked.

“Yes. Is there anything else you need to ask?”

“No. I just thought…” Lucius trailed off. He thought it would be nice to spend some time with his father, but it looked like his father was not interested. “Never mind,” Lucius ended his sentence.

It was strange, but as his father ascended the steps out of the basement a bad feeling sunk in Lucius’ stomach. His father looked even more distracted than he was before and Lucius could not help but wonder if his father was holding information from him.

At that very moment, Lucius stood frozen with the urge to chase after his father. He wanted to know everything but he was not sure if everything would put him at rest. Just as his father was about to reach the door, Lucius forced himself to make a quick decision.

To Be Continued…

(Leave a comment below or vote on whether Lucius should stay quiet or find out!)

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Goblin Crusher

“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.

“Sir, if-”

“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!)