Fudge's ears buzzed.
He felt as though someone had poured a bottle of shoddy earwax remover into him. He had heard every word clearly, but put together, they were utterly absurd.
"The... long-term development of the wizarding world?"
His voice rose, its final note going off-key with disbelief.
Fudge's gaze swept past Sirius and fixed on Dumbledore.
"Albus, is this your idea? Since when did a director of academic affairs and a Head of the Auror Office start worrying about the Ministry's future on my behalf?"
Dumbledore took a small step back, putting himself at the perfect distance to remain uninvolved.
He lowered his head slightly, his eyes glinting with sly amusement beneath his half-moon spectacles, looking as mild as an innocent bystander.
"Cornelius, I think you've misunderstood."
He gave a light cough, his voice carrying just the right hint of weariness.
"Before, I had no choice. Now, I only want to be a good headmaster."
Dumbledore shrugged helplessly and spread his hands, his posture seeming to say: look, this mess has nothing to do with me.
Scrimgeour's fingers tapped lightly against the lion's head atop his walking stick, that tiny movement betraying his calculations.
Sirius, meanwhile, blinked rapidly.
That fellow Douglas was practically a prophet. He had even predicted Fudge's reaction to having his tail stepped on with perfect accuracy.
A Seer whose talents were wasted writing novels... oh, no, he was a novelist to begin with.
He drew his gaze away from Dumbledore's expression of enjoying the show and turned to Fudge.
"Minister, you're treating us like strangers."
Sirius adopted an earnest expression, his warmth suspiciously enthusiastic.
"Hogwarts and the Ministry have always been in the same boat. Protecting the wizarding world is our shared goal."
"Looking after my students' futures means providing fresh blood for the wizarding