Fudge nodded at that, ready to get down to business.
He took a crystal ball out of his desk drawer.
With a light tap of his wand, the haze dispersed, and the image gradually came into focus.
Hermione recognized it at once. It was the scene of Voldemort's resurrection from her prophecy.
"Miss Granger," Fudge asked, "did you foresee all of this?"
Hermione nodded, her expression calm. "That's right."
Fudge's expression darkened.
He gave a dry cough, trying to hide his unease. "But, Miss Granger, didn't Deputy Director Lockhart destroy the Dark Lord's Horcrux last year?"
"In theory, something like this shouldn't happen in the future."
Hermione watched Fudge with a hint of amusement in her eyes.
"So?" she asked. "Minister Fudge, are you asking me to admit that my prophecy was wrong?"
Her blunt question left Fudge spluttering.
He hastily waved his hands and explained, "No, no, no, that's certainly not what I meant."
"It's just that, Miss Granger, as you know, the wizarding world needs stability, and the public needs peace."
And I need to be reelected... he added silently.
"A terrifying prophecy like this, even if it's true, shouldn't be announced in public."
"It would cause panic, wouldn't it?"
Fudge paused, then added, "Besides, prophecies are inherently uncertain."
"If you want people to truly believe you, I'm afraid... we'll need more information, in greater detail."
Listening to Fudge's high-minded excuses, Hermione couldn't help laughing.
"Minister Fudge," she said, a trace of mockery in her voice, "you must be joking."
"Since when has anyone been able to get whatever information they want out of a prophecy?"
"Do you think prophecy is like ordering food? You ask for whatever you fancy, and the chef whips it up for you?"
Hermione spread her hands, wearing an exaggerated expression.
"Sorry, this