Rufus Scrimgeour entered the Ministry of Magic through the same dingy toilet entrance that Arthur Weasley had once used. The experience was far from the grandiose entrances he envisioned as befitting someone of his stature. The cramped, grimy space was a stark reminder of the Ministry’s tendency to blend the practical with the mundane. While Arthur had navigated this entrance with an air of practicality, Rufus felt a deep-seated disgust. As he ascended from the depths, his eyes landed on the "Magic is Might" poster dominating the Ministry’s foyer. He longed for his own face to be on such a poster, symbolizing the power and authority he was determined to wield.
His mood darkened as he made his way to the Auror Office. The thought of a mundane entrance grated on him. If he were to become Minister, that would change. He would ensure that every aspect of his rule, from the smallest detail to the grandest display, exuded the power and dignity he craved.
Upon reaching the Auror Office, Rufus was greeted by Amelia Peasegood, a junior Auror.
“Good morning, Mr. Scrimgeour,” she said warmly.
Rufus returned the greeting with a curt nod. “Good morning, Amelia. How are things?”
“Busy as ever, sir,” she replied. “We’ve been working on the recent cases.”
He acknowledged her and continued through the office, nodding at the polite acknowledgments from various members of his team. The efficient, slightly impersonal atmosphere of the office suited him—mostly. It was a well-oiled machine, but he knew it lacked the warmth that encouraged loyalty. He’d have to change that, but not today.
As he reached his office, excitement bubbled under the surface. Today, he would meet with some of the most influential figures in the Auror Office—people he had read about and admired in his previous life. Moody, the legendary Auror who inspired fear and respect in equal measure; Amelia Bones, a paragon of justice and integrity; Kingsley Shacklebolt, whose calm and composed demeanor hid a sharp mind; John Dawlish, a dependable, steady presence; and Proudfoot, a seasoned veteran.
These were characters I admired, Rufus thought, allowing himself a moment of anticipation. And now, I can work alongside them—or better yet, lead them.
He was also eager to help shape the future. Moody and Bones, in particular, were destined for tragic ends if the future played out as he remembered. Perhaps he could prevent that, but it would require subtlety.
His assistant, Miranda Wexley, entered his office as he settled in. “Everyone is assembled in the conference room, Mr. Scrimgeour,” she informed him.
“Excellent. Let’s proceed,” Rufus said, rising from his desk.
The meeting began with Rufus laying out the parameters for the operation against Fenrir Greyback. He emphasized the need for thorough intelligence gathering and precise planning, stressing the critical nature of the task without over-explaining. As he spoke, he observed the reactions of the others. Moody’s grizzled face showed no emotion, but Rufus could sense the old Auror’s mind was working, evaluating every word. Amelia Bones listened intently, her sharp eyes missing nothing. Kingsley and Dawlish exchanged a glance, understanding the gravity of the assignment.
Rufus was thrilled to be in their company, but he kept his excitement hidden behind a mask of professionalism. These people are the backbone of the Auror Office. Moody, with all his paranoia and gruff demeanor, has saved countless lives. Amelia Bones is the epitome of fairness. If only they knew what awaited them—
No, he corrected himself. If only they knew what I’m going to do to change that. Moody and Bones deserve better than what the future holds for them.
As the meeting concluded, Rufus issued orders for his team to start gathering intelligence and formulating plans. He refrained from revealing his entire strategy, especially his intention to use the werewolves from Diagon Alley. The idea was too unconventional for most to grasp, and he knew it could raise too many questions. Once the room emptied, Rufus allowed himself a brief moment of satisfaction.
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Later that evening, Rufus arrived at the opulent home of Horace Slughorn. The warmth and charm of the residence were a stark contrast to the sterile environment of the Ministry. Slughorn, ever the genial host, greeted him with a broad smile.
“Rufus, my boy! It’s been too long,” Slughorn exclaimed, ushering him inside. “Come in, come in. Let’s have a drink before we get down to business.”
“Thank you, Horace,” Rufus replied, settling into a plush armchair. “It’s good to see you.”
As they enjoyed their drinks, Rufus made a point of flattering his former Potions Master. “You know, Horace, your influence during my time in the Slug Club was instrumental in shaping my career. I’ve always admired your knack for recognizing talent and helping it grow.”
Slughorn beamed, puffing up slightly at the compliment. “Ah, yes, the Slug Club. We had some extraordinary talents pass through our gatherings, didn’t we? And you, Rufus—you were always so determined, so focused. I knew you were destined for great things.”
Rufus nodded appreciatively, though inwardly, his thoughts were more critical. Slughorn, for all his bluster, had the opportunity to make real changes, to influence the future. But he chose comfort and anonymity instead. A man who prefers the back seat, who enjoys the perks without the responsibility.
Still, Rufus needed Slughorn’s help. “I’ve decided to run for Minister of Magic,” Rufus announced, watching Slughorn’s reaction closely.
Slughorn’s eyes widened slightly. “Running for Minister, you say? Well, that’s quite the ambition, Rufus. But if anyone can do it, it’s you. Your career has been nothing short of impressive.”
“I’m aware of the challenges ahead,” Rufus said, “and I need support from influential figures like yourself. Your reputation, your connections—they could be invaluable.”
Slughorn appeared thoughtful, then let out a dramatic sigh. “Well, I do have some reservations, especially with someone as dangerous as Greyback involved. I’d be willing to assist, but only if my involvement remains completely anonymous. You understand, of course—I’m more comfortable with a bit more leg room in the back seat, as it were.”
Rufus nodded, keeping his expression neutral. He knew Slughorn’s request for anonymity was less about fear and more about his preference for avoiding the spotlight. You don’t fool me, Horace. You just like the luxury of being important without the risk.
“Of course, Horace. Your preference for discretion is well understood. I’ll ensure your involvement is kept entirely confidential,” Rufus assured him.
Relieved, Slughorn agreed. “Excellent. I’ll assist with the potion work for the disguises. Greyback is a menace, and while I’d prefer to stay out of the fray, I’ll do what I can to help from behind the scenes.”
Rufus listened silently as Slughorn boasted about his previous successes, smiling politely. A man who could have shaped the world, yet chose comfort over courage. But no matter. I’ll use what he offers, and ensure the credit stays where it belongs.
As the meeting concluded, Rufus felt a renewed sense of determination. He was chipping away at Voldemort’s future army while laying the groundwork for his rise to power. With Slughorn’s support—albeit from the back seat—he was one step closer to realizing his ambitions.
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Rufus’s thoughts as he plans ahead are as follow ‘**The Greyback case is more than a mere assignment; it’s a pivotal opportunity. If we can capture him, it will serve multiple purposes. Greyback represents a threat to both the magical community and its broader reputation. His capture will not only eliminate a dangerous criminal but will also bolster my position within the Ministry.
The operation involves a strategic advantage. By utilizing the werewolves from Diagon Alley, who detest Greyback for the damage he has inflicted on their kind, we gain unique intelligence. Disguising them as Greyback’s associates will give us a valuable edge. This approach is unconventional but necessary.
I must be cautious about discussing this plan openly. There’s a risk of sensitive information leaking if I’m not careful. My discussions with Horace Slughorn will be particularly discreet. His expertise in potion-making and transfiguration is crucial for creating effective disguises.
Slughorn’s reluctance to take a more active role is both a challenge and an opportunity. He prefers the comfort of the back seat, away from the limelight. His support will be invaluable, but I must ensure he understands the importance of his involvement without demanding too much.**
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Returning to his residence later that evening, Rufus was greeted by his house-elf, Alby, who had prepared a warm meal. The comfort of home provided a brief respite from the day’s complexities.
“Good evening, Master Rufus. Dinner is ready,” Alby said.
“Thank you, Alby,” Rufus replied, sitting down to eat.
As he ate, his thoughts remained focused on the path ahead. The journey to becoming Minister of Magic was fraught with challenges, but Rufus was resolute. With each calculated move, he drew closer to his goal, ready to face the obstacles and seize the opportunities that lay ahead.
Rufus pondered the significance of the choices he had made that day, both for his future and for the fate of the wizarding world