Chapter 30: Keys to the Kingdom- Part 3
Cornelius Fudge was the next to arrive, looking as if he had been through a storm. He was visibly flustered, still grappling with his defeat. Rufus knew Fudge’s greatest strength was his aversion to conflict—he wouldn’t oppose Rufus’s decisions as long as his interests were protected.
“Fudge,” Rufus greeted, his tone polite but distant. “Thank you for coming.”
“Scrimgeour,” Fudge responded, trying to muster some semblance of his former confidence. “I’m here at your request. What can I do for you?”
“I’m offering you the position of Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation,” Rufus said without preamble.
Fudge blinked, clearly surprised. “International Cooperation? But surely—”
“It’s an important role,” Rufus interrupted smoothly. “One that requires diplomacy and experience. And you, Fudge, are well-suited for it. Besides, this department doesn’t currently factor into my immediate plans, so I trust you to handle it without issue.”
Fudge seemed to hesitate, but then he nodded, realizing that accepting this position was his best option. “Very well, Scrimgeour. I’ll accept. And I’ll do my best to serve the Ministry in this capacity.”
Rufus inclined his head. “I’m sure you will, Fudge. Your experience will be invaluable.”
As Fudge left, Rufus allowed himself a small sigh of relief. Offering Fudge this position had been a calculated move—one that kept him close enough to monitor, yet distant enough not to interfere with his plans.
The next person to enter was someone new to the Ministry’s upper echelons—Morgana Flint. A tall, imposing witch with sharp features and piercing blue eyes, she exuded an air of authority. Rufus had chosen her for the role of Head of the Department of Magical Transportation, knowing that her efficiency and no-nonsense attitude would be assets to his administration.
“Morgana,” Rufus greeted her with a nod. “I’m offering you the position of Head of Magical Transportation.”
Morgana inclined her head slightly, her eyes calculating. “I’m honored, Minister. I trust you’re aware of my qualifications?”
Rufus smiled. “I am. Your record speaks for itself—impeccable work at the Portkey Office, and your leadership during the broom regulation reforms was exemplary. I have no doubt you’ll excel in this role.”
Morgana’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “Thank you, Minister. I won’t disappoint.”
“I know you won’t,” Rufus replied. “Magical transportation is critical, and I need someone with your expertise to ensure everything runs smoothly.”
As Morgana left, Rufus felt a sense of satisfaction. She was a strong choice, and her appointment would bring fresh energy to the Ministry’s operations.
The next figure to enter was Lord Greengrass, an older, sharp-featured wizard with silver hair and a calculating gaze. Rufus knew him well; they were allies, bound by mutual interests and past favors. Greengrass had been one of Rufus's earliest supporters, backing him when others had wavered. Now, it was time to repay that debt.
"Lord Greengrass," Rufus greeted him with a nod of respect. "I’m offering you the role of Head of the Department of Mysteries."
Greengrass studied Rufus for a moment, his expression unreadable. But there was a glint of satisfaction in his eyes as he nodded. "I accept, Minister. The Department of Mysteries requires a steady hand, and I’ll ensure that our work continues without disruption."
Rufus knew that giving Lord Greengrass this position was more than just a strategic move—it was an acknowledgment of the debt he owed. With Greengrass in this role, Rufus could count on his continued loyalty and influence within the Ministry, ensuring that their alliance remained strong
The next meeting was one Rufus had been dreading—Ludo Bagman, the former Quidditch star and current Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Rufus had little respect for Bagman, viewing him as incompetent and irresponsible. But Bagman was popular, and removing him would cause more trouble than it was worth.
“Bagman,” Rufus greeted him tersely as Ludo sauntered into the room, his usual carefree grin in place.
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“Minister!” Bagman exclaimed cheerfully. “Heard you wanted to see me. What’s the good word?”
Rufus forced a smile. “I’m keeping you in your current position, Ludo. Head of Magical Games and Sports.”
Bagman’s grin widened. “Excellent! I’ve got some great ideas for the next Quidditch World Cup—”
“I’m sure you do,” Rufus cut in, not wanting to hear the details. “Just make sure everything is organized and on track. I expect you to handle it.”
“Of course, Minister, of course!” Bagman replied, still grinning. “You can count on me!”
Rufus nodded, though internally he was less certain. Bagman’s enthusiasm was unmatched, but his reliability was questionable at best. Still, it was a small price to pay for avoiding unnecessary disruptions.
The final meeting of the day was with Arthur Weasley, a man Rufus had always respected for his integrity and dedication. Arthur entered the office, looking slightly nervous but determined.
“Arthur,” Rufus greeted him warmly. “Thank you for coming.”
“Minister,” Arthur replied, his tone respectful.
“I’m offering you a promotion,” Rufus said, getting straight to the point. “You’ll be heading the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects.”
Arthur’s eyes widened in surprise. “Me? Minister, I—I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll accept,” Rufus replied with a smile. “You’ve earned this, Arthur. Your work in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office has been exemplary, and I trust you’ll bring the same diligence to this new role.”
Arthur hesitated for a moment before nodding. “I accept, Minister. Thank you for this opportunity.”
Rufus nodded in return. “Good. The Ministry needs more people like you, Arthur—dedicated, honest, and hardworking. I’m counting on you.”
As Arthur left, Rufus leaned back in his chair, feeling the weight of the day settling on him. He had assembled his cabinet, each member chosen for their specific strengths—or, in some cases, their political necessity. The Ministry was now his to lead, but he knew the real challenges were just beginning.
With his cabinet in place, Rufus Scrimgeour turned his attention to the months ahead. The events of 1992 were unfolding as expected—Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, the return of Voldemort's influence, and the simmering tensions within the wizarding world. He had taken the keys to the kingdom, but now he had to ensure he wielded them wisely.
As the day drew to a close, Rufus found himself drawn to the Department of Mysteries, where the Prophecy Room awaited him. It was a place he had only visited once before, many years ago, during his training as an Auror. The memory of that visit had stayed with him, not just because of the eerie silence that filled the room, but because of the sense of foreboding that had settled in his chest as he gazed upon the endless rows of orbs.
The Prophecy Room was a vast chamber, its walls lined with shelves that stretched from floor to ceiling, each one filled with countless glass spheres. The orbs glowed softly in the dim light, casting flickering shadows on the cold stone floor. As Rufus entered, the door closed behind him with a soft click, sealing him in a place that felt removed from time itself.
He walked slowly down the aisle, his footsteps echoing in the silence. The air was thick with magic, and Rufus could feel the weight of the future pressing down on him. Each orb contained a prophecy—some long forgotten, others still waiting to be fulfilled. He knew that among them was one prophecy in particular, one that could change the course of history.
His hand drifted to the key in his pocket, the "Key to the Kingdom," as he approached the shelf where the prophecy was kept. His heart raced as he reached out, his fingers brushing against the cool glass of the orb. The prophecy within was one he had heard whispers of, though its full contents were a mystery to all but a select few.
The orb was cold in his hand, and as he lifted it, he felt a strange sensation wash over him—a mixture of dread and anticipation. He knew that the prophecy he held could shape the future of the wizarding world, but the weight of that knowledge was almost too much to bear.
He could not open it, not without the one it was destined for, but even holding it felt like a transgression, a step too far into a future that was not yet written. Rufus placed the orb back on the shelf, its soft glow dimming as he released it. He turned to leave, the echoes of his footsteps following him out of the chamber, and the weight of the prophecy lingering in his mind.
As Rufus left the Ministry, the streets of Diagon Alley were alive with the hustle and bustle of a city that never truly slept. The cobblestones echoed with the sound of hurried footsteps, the occasional bark of a shopkeeper closing up for the night, and the distant laughter of wizards and witches enjoying the evening.
Rufus walked home, the cool night air a welcome contrast to the intensity of the day. His thoughts were a whirlwind, the events of the day playing out in his mind as he navigated the familiar streets. The weight of his new responsibilities pressed down on him, but there was also a sense of purpose, a determination to lead the wizarding world through the challenges ahead.
When he arrived at his modest home, he found Alby waiting for him, the house-elf bustling about as he prepared dinner. The comforting smell of roast chicken and fresh bread filled the air, and for a moment, Rufus felt a sense of normalcy, a reminder that despite the chaos of the outside world, some things remained unchanged.
"Evening, Minister," Alby said, a hint of pride in his voice as he served dinner. "Everything ready for you, sir."
Rufus smiled, the title still feeling foreign to him. "Thank you, Alby. You’ve done a wonderful job as always."
They ate in companionable silence, the simple meal a welcome reprieve from the day’s events. As Rufus sipped his tea, his thoughts drifted to the future. The key in his pocket was a constant reminder of the power he now held, but also of the responsibility that came with it. He knew that the days ahead would be difficult, that the path he had chosen was fraught with danger and uncertainty. But as he sat in the warmth of his home, he also knew that he was ready.
The wizarding world was at a crossroads, and Rufus Scrimgeour, with the weight of history on his shoulders and the key to the kingdom in his hand, was determined to lead it into a new era.