"You're saying Sirius Black was wrongfully accused?"
Cornelius Fudge sat nervously in the Headmaster's office, listening to the group's explanation. He wiped the sweat from his brow, glancing uneasily at Sirius. "But that's absolutely preposterous."
"If he was innocent, why didn't he defend himself when he was arrested?"
Dumbledore responded calmly to Fudge's skepticism. "Cornelius, Sirius chose to go to Azkaban to atone for his guilt."
But even with Dumbledore vouching for Sirius, Fudge pushed back, not too subtly. "Albus, you've never been Minister of Magic, so you wouldn't understand. I can't just think about one person. Overturning a case like this is complicated. A twelve-year miscarriage of justice would be a massive blow to the Ministry's credibility. The public would lose all faith in us."
Though Fudge didn't outright refuse, his reluctance was clear as day.
He might as well have said, "This isn't my problem, leave me out of it."
Joking aside, dealing with the Dementor fiasco had already left him overwhelmed. His approval ratings were scraping historic lows, and he'd been running to Dumbledore for advice almost daily. Now they wanted him to reopen the case of a "vicious criminal" like Black? That was just asking for trouble. One wrong move, and his position as Minister could be on the chopping block.
Plenty of high-ranking Ministry officials were eyeing his job. Who wouldn't want to sit at the top of the wizarding world?
Compared to justice, Fudge cared more about keeping his fancy hat. To stay Minister, he'd turn on anyone—even Dumbledore.
Rather than clear Sirius's name, he'd prefer to drag him back to Azkaban and call it a day. It might even claw back some of his pitiful approval ratings.
Too bad that wasn't exactly easy to pull off.
"Even without this mess, the public's already fed up with the Ministry," Harry thought.
How many useful policies had the Ministry rolled out under Fudge's leadership?
Zero.
Most wizards spent their days eating, sleeping, and cursing the Ministry.
Fudge's behavior left Dumbledore exasperated. He had to listen to Fudge's complaints while staying wary of him, unsure of what to say. If Fudge insisted on arresting Sirius, things could get tricky.
Dumbledore had been out of the political game for too long. Old allies like Nicolas Flamel had passed away one by one, and the few powerful wizards left—maybe only the one in the tower—were out of reach. He doubted he'd ever cross paths with that wizard in his lifetime.
Harry felt a surge of anger. He wasn't exactly fond of Sirius, but he wanted Peter Pettigrew to face justice. Why was the Minister dragging his feet on something so obvious? Powerless to do anything himself, Harry looked to Dudley.
Sensing Harry's gaze, Dudley, who'd been silent until now, finally spoke.
"Mr. Fudge, the order to arrest Sirius didn't come from you, did it?"
"Oh, no, Mr. Dursley," Fudge said, caught off guard but nodding. "That's correct."
If Fudge was cautious with Dumbledore, his tone with Dudley was noticeably warmer. The two had a tentative partnership, after all.
Dudley strolled over to Fudge, towering over the short, stout man by a full head.
"Then what's there to worry about?"
In a soft, almost conspiratorial tone, Dudley continued, "Here's how I think it went down. The brilliant and wise Minister Fudge, shortly after taking office, had a gut feeling that something was off about Sirius Black's case. Determined to uncover the truth and ensure no wizard suffered unjustly, he investigated alone. Through his tireless efforts, he uncovered a shocking secret."
Dudley's story hooked Fudge instantly. His words carried a mix of charm and persuasion, and as he spoke, Fudge's breathing grew heavier.
"The notorious criminal Sirius Black was innocent all along."
"Minister Fudge, a just and kind wizard, cannot tolerate even a single wrongful conviction."
"This was a failure of the previous Minister, Millicent Bagnold. But Minister Fudge is willing to take responsibility, apologize to the public on behalf of the Ministry, and make things right."
Bagnold, long retired and out of the political spotlight, was the perfect scapegoat. Blaming the predecessor and climbing over them was Politics 101.
With every sentence, Fudge's eyes gleamed brighter. Dudley knew he was one step away from sealing the deal.
Leaning down, he whispered in Fudge's ear, "Your reputation's already taken a hit with the Dementor situation. If you don't act, your position might not be secure. I hear Barty Crouch, after losing to you last time, has been reflecting deeply. He's been rallying a lot of support."
"This isn't good news for your loyal allies."
"We want you to stay Minister. That's what's best for us."
If Fudge didn't get the hint after that, it might be time to back someone else. A person could be foolish, but not that foolish.
"You're a smart man, Minister. You know what to do."
With that, Dudley sat back down.
Fudge's less-than-sharp mind churned for a moment. The plan was perfect—not only could it turn his current mess around, but it might even skyrocket his approval ratings.
And that "smart man" comment? Fudge ate it up. He'd always thought himself exceptional—why else would he be Minister?
"Well, er… I deeply regret what Mr. Black has been through," Fudge said, his tone suddenly resolute. "And I'm appalled by Peter Pettigrew's vile actions. Rest assured, the Ministry will not wrong an innocent wizard, nor let a guilty one walk free."
It was like he'd been hit with a Confundus Charm. Gone was the hemming and hawing—now he spoke with righteous conviction.
"We will ensure justice is served."
His words left everyone else stunned.
Sirius, Lupin, Harry, and Hermione stared at him in disbelief. Fudge, unfazed, didn't even blush, his wrinkled face as shameless as ever—a key trait for any successful Minister.
Dudley sat calmly, as if he hadn't just orchestrated the whole thing. Dumbledore, meanwhile, watched Dudley with a knowing smile, his thoughts unreadable.
In the books, Fudge is described as a short, portly man. Power-hungry and a bit greedy, to boot.