Fudge arrived the next morning.
He had three Ministry officials with him - one of them who Blake recognised as Percy Weasley, unsurprisingly - all of them carrying clipboards, and he swept into the entrance hall with what he tried to make seem like confidence, but most people knew better - this was a man on his last legs, trying to retain some semblance of the power he so desperately craved. Umbridge, who had apparently been waiting by the doors since before breakfast, fell into step beside him immediately, and the two of them exchanged words quickly, murmuring.
Blake watched from the staircase, arms folded.
However much of this is Fudge's own idiocy and however much is Umbridge, she's not steering a man that doesn't want to be steered.
The morning went normally. Classes, Charms with Flitwick who mercifully did not bring up the date incident again, a free period that Blake spent in the library looking at nothing useful. By lunch, it was clear that Fudge was doing a tour - classrooms, corridors, a brief and visibly uncomfortable visit to the Great Hall where the students reacted to him with a polite silence that was worse than hostility. Umbridge accompanied him everywhere, her smile so fixed it seemed like it was plastered on like makeup.
Blake noted that Fudge's eyes kept finding him.
Of course they do, he thought, refraining from rolling his eyes as he stabbed at his sausages.
After lunch, one of the Ministry officials found Blake in the corridor and asked, with exaggerated politeness, whether the Minister might have a word.
"Of course," Blake said pleasantly.
/
They found a small unused classroom on the second floor. Fudge arranged himself behind the teacher's desk with the unconscious instinct of someone who always wanted a desk between himself and other people. Umbridge sat beside him, clipboard on her knee, quill poised.
Blake sat across from them.
"It's nice to see you again, Minister," he said, smiling politely.
"Likewise, Blake," Fudge began, with the warm tone of a man who had practised this. "Firstly, I want to say - on behalf of the whole Ministry - how incredibly proud we are of everything you've accomplished. The graveyard, the Triwizard plot, the Death Eater captures - extraordinary. Truly extraordinary."
"Thank you, Minister," Blake said. But the praise doesn't mean much coming from a coward like you.
"You're a remarkable young man," Fudge continued. "And at a time like this, remarkable young men have an opportunity to do remarkable things." He leaned forward slightly. "The wizarding world needs voices it trusts, Blake. Voices that people look up to. And I think - I know, in fact - that your voice could do an enormous amount of good."
"That's very kind," Blake said, smiling as best he could manage.
Fudge smiled. Umbridge's quill moved.
"What I'd like to propose," Fudge said, "is a simple thing, really. A public show of unity. You and the Ministry - me, really - together. Something that says to the wizarding world: we are not afraid. We are prepared. We are strong."
Blake looked at him for a moment.
"Minister," he said carefully, "I'm going to be honest with you, because I respect you enough to know that you deserve that."
Fudge blinked. "Of course-"
"I know you and Professor Dumbledore are in the middle of something," Blake said. "I don't know all the details, and honestly, I don't want to. What I do know is that if I, like, publicly align myself with you right now, I'm not just doing a photo. I'd be putting myself into something I don't fully understand between two people who are both considerably more powerful and experienced than me." He paused. "I'm fifteen. I fought some Death Eaters, and I got lucky in a graveyard. But this - whatever this is between you and Dumbledore - this is above me. And I'd be doing you a disservice if I pretended otherwise."
Fudge stared at him.
Blake kept his expression earnest, open, and as helpless looking as his ego could allow.
"I hope you understand, sir," he said. "I really do want to help. I just don't think I'm in a position to be useful here without understanding the full picture. And I know you have my best interests at heart. I don't think either you or Professor Dumbledore would want me charging into something half-informed, right?"
A long pause.
"Well," Fudge said, unable to completely mask the frustration in his voice, but carefully smoothed nonetheless. "I understand, of course. You're right to think carefully." He glanced at Umbridge, who was looking at Blake with her toad eyes in a way that made him uncomfortable. "Perhaps when things are a bit clearer - when you've had more time to understand the situation-"
"I'd like that very much," Blake said warmly and quickly, sounding as open and eager as he could muster.
They shook hands. Umbridge smiled at him fakely, even by her standards.
In the corridor afterward, Blake walked back toward the stairs.
Dumbledore's going to hear about this soon. Good.
/
He was right. The invitation to Dumbledore's office arrived the following evening, delivered by a very self-important owl that Zabini threw a grape at.
"You don't have to go," Zabini reminded him, still trying to pelt the owl with grapes as it flew away.
"I know," Blake said, putting on his robes.
Dumbledore's office was exactly as it always was - instruments humming, Fawkes on his perch doing absolutely nothing useful but looking immaculate, the portrait of the previous headmasters arranged along the walls, pretending they weren't listening. Dumbledore gestured Blake to a seat and settled behind his desk, smiling widely, eyes twinkling.
"I wanted to thank you," Dumbledore said. "For how you handled Cornelius yesterday."
"It wasn't that big of a deal," Blake replied.
"It was graciously done," Dumbledore said, with a small smile. "Refusing him without antagonising him further - that required more tact than most adult wizards I know would've managed."
Blake nodded, and let a second pass.
"I should tell you, though, Professor," he said, "that I didn't refuse him on principle. I told him I didn't want to get in the middle of something I didn't understand, between you and him." He watched Dumbledore's face. "Which means Fudge's retaliation is probably going to land on your door rather than mine. Sorry."
AN: If you would like to view up to 20 more bonus chapters on all my fics so far including this one, and would also like to support me, please visit my P@TR30N, at pa tr eon.com / GhidorahWriter (remove the spaces).
Thanks for reading and make sure ADD to your COLLECTION and VOTE with POWER STONES! Once we hit 150, I'll release a BONUS chapter!