The Potter Twins and the Prisoner of Askaban {3}

3. The Minister

"I've got no time for feeling sorry" ~ Feeling Sorry, Paramore

"I knew it!" Stan shouts gleefully. "Ern! Ern! Guess 'oo Taylor and Asher is, Ern! 'Arry and 'Aylee Potter! I can see their scars!"

"Yes," Fudge says testily. "Well, I'm very glad the Knight Bus picked up Harry and Haylee, but the three of us need to step inside the Leaky Cauldron now..."

Fudge increases the pressure in my shoulder, and I find myself and Harry being steered inside the pub. A stooping future bearing a lantern  appears;

"You've got them, Minister?" The man says. "Will you be wanting anything? Beer? Brandy?"

"Perhaps a pot of tea," Fudge says, who is still gripping Harry and I.

There is a loud scraping and puffing from behind us, and Stan and Ernie appear, carrying our trunks, looking extremely excited.

"'Ow come you di'n't tell us 'oo you are?" Stan asks, beaming at us.

"And a private parlour, please, Tom," I hear Fudge say pointedly.
"Bye," I say miserably to Stan and Ernie.
"Bye, Taylor and Asher!"

Fudge marches us along the narrow passage after Tom and then into a small parlour.

"Sit down, Haylee, Harry," Fudge says, indicating two chairs by the fire.

Harry and I sit down, and I feel goosebumps rise on my arms, despite the warmness of the room.

"I am Cornelius Fudge, Harry and Haylee. The Minister of Magic."

I already know this, but only because of the few pictures that I have seen of him in the prophet.

"Well, Harry and Haylee," Fudge says, pouring out tea, "you've had us all in a right flap, I don't mind telling you. Running away from your aunt and uncle's house like that! I'd started to think...but you're both safe, and that's what matters."

Fudge butters himself a crumpet and pushes the plate towards Harry and I.

"Eat, the two of you look dead on your feet. Now then...You will be pleased to hear that we have dealt with the unfortunate blowing up of Miss Marjorie Dursley. Two members of the Accidental Magic Reversal Department were dispatched to Privet Drive a few hours ago. Miss Dursley had been punctured and her memory had been modified. She has no recollection of the incident at all. So that's that, and no harm done."

Fudge smiles at us over the trim of his teacup, rather like an uncle surveying his favourite niece and nephew.

I can't believe my ears, and I can't even open my mouth to speak.

"Ah, you're worrying about the reaction of your aunt and uncle?" Fudge asks. "Well, I won't deny that they are extremely angry, Harry and Haylee, but they are prepared to take you back next summer as long as you stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas and Easter holidays."

"We always stay at Hogwarts for Christmas and Easter holidays," I speak up, "and we don't ever want to go back to Privet Drive."

"Now, now, I'm sure you'll feel differently once you've canker down," he says in a worried tone. "They are your family, after all, and I'm sure you are fond of each other - er - very deep down."

I decide not to correct Fudge, even though he couldn't be more wrong.

"So all that remains," Fudge begins, "is to decide where you're going to spend the last two weeks of your holidays, I suggest you take a room here at the Leaky Cauldron and -"

"Hang on," Harry blurts out, "what about our punishment?"

"Punishment?" Fudge questions.
"We broke the law! The Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry." 

"Oh, my dear boy, we're not going to punishment you for a little thing like that!" Fudge cries. "It was an accident! We don't send people to Azkaban just to blowing up their aunts, surely you two don't want to be expelled?"

"Or course we don't," I say quietly.

"Well then, what's all the fuss about?" Fudge laughs airily. "Now, have a crumpet, Harry and Haylee, while I go and see if Tom's got a room for you."

He strides out of the parlour and we stare after him. Something's seems off.

"Why was he waiting for us, Haylee?" Harry whispers. "Why aren't we being punished?"

"I don't know, Harry, but it doesn't seem right," I reply quietly.

Fudge returns moments later, accompanied by Tom in innkeeper.

"Room eleven'a free," fudge tells us. "I think you'll be very comfortable. Just one thing, and I'm sure you'll understand: I don't want you wandering off into Muggle London, alright? Keep to Diagon Alley. And you're I be back here before dark each night. Sure you'll understand. Tom will be keeping an eye on your both for me."

"Okay," Harry says slowly, "but why?"

"Don't want to lose you again, do we?" Fudge says with a hearty laugh. "No, no...best we know where you are...I mean."

Fudge clears his throat loudly.

"Well, I'll be off, plenty to do, you know."
"Have you had any luck with Black yet?" I ask suddenly.

"What's that? Oh, you've heard...well, no, not yet, but it's only a matter of time. The Azkaban guard have never yet failed...and they are angrier than I've ever seen them."

Fudge shudders ever so slightly.

"So, I'll say goodbye."

Fudge holds out his hand and we both shake it.

"Er - Minister? Can I ask you something?" Harry says.

"Certainly."

"Well, third years at Hogwarts are allowed to visit Hogsmede, but our aunt and uncle didn't sign our permission forms. D'you think you could?"

My mouth drops and I stare at Harry with wide eyes. Did he actually just ask that?

"Ah," Fudge says, looking uncomfortably. "No, no, I'm very sorry, but I'm not your parent or guardian..."

"But you're the Minister for Magic," Harry says persistently. "If you have us permission..."

"No, I'm sorry, but rules are rules," Fudge replies flatly. "Perhaps you'll be able to visit Hogsmede next year. In fact, I think it is best if you don't...yes...well, I'll be off. Enjoy your stay, Harry and Haylee."

With one last smile, Fudge left the room.

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