Deep beneath Whitehall in London, at the Ministry of Magic, in the Minister's Office.
Fudge sat alone behind the large desk, a copy of the Daily Prophet spread out in front of him.
But his gaze didn't fall on the newspaper; instead, his eyes glazed over as he fell into deep thought.
He didn't know how much longer he could stay in that position.
He's been thinking about this problem every day lately.
If a minister doesn't make any mistakes, he can serve his term peacefully until retirement. This is a tradition of the Ministry of Magic, an unspoken rule that has been Great Britain Ministry of Magic for hundreds of years.
Fudge did indeed do it, or at least he did.
Since taking office, he has been adept at navigating social situations and carefully avoiding any potential pitfalls.
He didn't delve into the mess left behind after the fall of the You-Know-Who, nor did he challenge Dumbledore's growing prestige at Hogwarts.
He pretended not to see the power struggles between those Pure-blood families, and he pretended not to know about the various developments in the Muggle world.
Delay if you can, avoid if you can, and muddle through if you can.
This is his survival strategy, and this is the secret to how he has been able to sit comfortably in the ministerial position for so many years.
What the Wizarding World needs is not a wise leader, but a minister who won't make things worse.
Fudge has always been well-versed in this, and is very proud of it.
However, the peaceful times suddenly changed last year.
That guy named Allen Wayne, that ghost writer who appeared out of nowhere, wrote those damned books one after another, peeling away the entire Wizarding World's trust in the Ministry of Magic layer by layer, like peeling an onion.
When his first book came out, he was still able to manage it, albeit barely.
After all, that book was about things that happened at Hogwarts, and it contained a bunch of old stories that he had almost forgotten.
He thought at the time that things would be fine once the hype died down and people's novelty wore off.
He even successfully manipulated public opinion, causing some people to begin to doubt the book's authenticity.
But what followed quickly began to spiral out of control.
Dumbledore was publicly questioned, the Floo Network was cut off, and the Death Eaters invaded Hogwarts.
These events happened one after another, each one a reminder to everyone in the Wizarding World that what the book said was true, and that there was nothing the Ministry of Magic could do.
Then, there was the matter of those thirty International Auror.
That thing could have been done secretly, but that fox-masked guy used a Sonorus to turn everything upside down, making all the Muggle in London hear the words " International Auror have invaded London."
How much effort did he put into suppressing that matter? How many favors did he owe the Muggle Prime Minister? How many conditions did he agree to for that Muggle Prime Minister?
These things gave him a headache just thinking about them.
And just a few days ago, " Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets " (Part 2) was released.
Public opinion throughout the Wizarding World took a sharp turn for the worse.
He knew exactly what was written in that book, and he immediately had someone buy a copy and read it through.
Lucius Malfoy gave Ginny Weasley the Dark Lord's diary, which nearly led to the closure of Hogwarts, Dumbledore's suspension from the Board of Governors, and Hagrid's imprisonment in Azkaban.
Cornelius Fudge, in that book, was portrayed as a Minister for Magic who couldn't distinguish right from wrong, was incompetent, and only cared about arresting people to fulfill his duties.
In the book, after the Chamber of Secrets incident, he didn't hesitate to imprison Hagrid in Azkaban, hastily closing the case without any investigation, and even kicking Dumbledore when he was down.
What will the public think when they read these plot points?
They would compare him to Fudge from the book, they would think he was that kind of person, and they would think the Ministry of Magic had always been doing things the same way.
Fudge hasn't dared to go to the Ministry Atrium these past few days. Every time he walks down the corridor, the officials and staff give him strange looks.
Some people immediately lowered their heads and pretended to be busy when they saw him, while others looked him up and down with a scrutinizing gaze, as if they were getting to know him all over again.
His former authority, which commanded respect and obsequiousness wherever he went, deflated overnight like a punctured balloon.
As for sending Auror to capture Lucius Malfoy?
Of course he had thought about it; he had even seriously considered it on a sleepless night.
But it's clearly stated in that book that the Ministry of Magic has no evidence.
No one was present when Lucius Malfoy handed the diary to Ginny, and no magical traces were left behind; that old fox never leaves a trace.
Even the book itself doesn't explicitly state that Lucius did it!
Furthermore, even if there is evidence, can he make an arrest?
The Malfoy family is a long-established Pure-blood families with an absurdly large political influence.
They have seats in Wizengamot, a voice in the Board of Governors, and connections in various departments of the Ministry of Magic.
If he actually captures Lucius, he himself will be out of a job as Minister for Magic within three days.
He might not only be fired, but some other "accident" might happen to him.
So there's nothing he can do now but sit in this office, staring blankly at the portraits of past Minister for Magic on the wall.
In the portraits, some of the old ministers were dozing off, some were talking in hushed tones, and some were looking at him with a subtle gaze.
Fudge always felt there was something in those eyes, a mixture of pity and mockery.
He leaned back in his chair and let out a long sigh.
Just then, there was a knock on the office door.
Fudge didn't respond immediately; he was still pondering the meaning behind the expressions in those portraits.
But the assistant outside clearly didn't intend to wait for his response. After only two knocks, the door was pushed open, and the assistant rushed in.
His brow furrowed slightly, almost unconsciously.
"He barged in before I could even respond," Fudge thought bitterly. "What's the point of being a department head if even an assistant doesn't respect me?"
He was about to say something to assert his status when his assistant spoke first.
"Minister! Arthur Weasley hasn't come to work all day!"
Fudge was taken aback.
Arthur Weasley?
It took him a full two seconds to painstakingly retrieve the name from his mind and then match it with a face in his head.
Arthur Weasley, head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, is an oddball who spends his days tinkering with Muggle. This year, he was even fined by the department for a flying wrecked car.
He was also the father of Ginny Weasley, who was bewitched by the diary in that book—just an insignificant little man.