"The entire Ministry knows that's impossible," Janus said, lowering his voice. "Of course, I'm not surprised the Minister thinks it might work."
He had served Cornelius Fudge for years, long enough to know the Minister's habits better than most people knew their own. Fudge wanted someone else to carry the blame, which was understandable. What he did not seem to realize was that dragging the former Minister into the matter could be far more dangerous than facing the scandal directly.
"Patricia, everyone knows Azkaban is a cesspit," Janus continued. "During the war, plenty of people were sent there in chaos, anger, or fear. But when something smells rotten, you don't rip the whole lid off in front of the public and let everyone see what's inside."
He glanced toward the packed corridor, where Ministry officials were still whispering, arguing, and pretending they were not afraid. "Rita Skeeter is standing on moral high ground and tossing bombs from a safe distance. We're the ones scrambling to wipe off the dirt while she collects the praise of the entire wizarding world."
"We can credit Voldemort's defeat to Headmaster Dumbledore and the Savior," Janus said, his tone sharpening. "But don't forget that Millicent Bagnold took responsibility for the Ministry when the wizarding world was on the verge of collapse. She retired early precisely because her reputation was clean, her achievements were secure, and her honor remained intact."
Patricia went pale. She had only been thinking of escape routes for Fudge, not of the wider cost of touching someone who still held so much quiet respect.
"Remember this," Janus warned her. "Former Minister Bagnold will not involve herself."
"But the Minister wouldn't lie to us," Patricia muttered, though her voice carried more despair than conviction. She was beginning to understand that Fudge might not escape the storm so easily.
"There's no total loss yet," Janus said. "At least, not if we're careful." He flipped through the documents he had taken from her, and the deeper he read, the tighter his brows became. "Look at this page."
He pulled out a report from the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, dated July 1, 1980. The parchment had been handled so often that the edges had softened, but the contents remained clear enough.
"Winchester suspected of being attacked by a Soviet nuclear missile…" Patricia read aloud, and old memories stirred uneasily in her mind. Then her eyes widened. "Theodore Williams's Lumos."
"Yes. The child's father." Janus tapped the report. "It says Theodore used Lumos to light up all of Winchester while covering Jessica and the child's escape."
He clicked his tongue softly, caught between admiration and regret. "I never imagined anyone could push a basic spell that far. In his own way, Theodore was a genius. Unfortunately for him, his opponent wasn't an ordinary Auror. It was Barty Crouch Sr., at his most ruthless."
Janus turned another page. "And look here. That battle had a major impact on the Muggle world."
At the time, the Muggle world was deep in the Cold War. The white light that swallowed Winchester was visible from satellites, and some Muggle authorities briefly believed Britain had been struck by a nuclear weapon. For several terrifying hours, parts of Europe edged toward panic, and the possibility of a wider conflict became frighteningly real.
If Cornelius Fudge, then Head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, had not personally intervened and coordinated with several parties to contain the incident, the Muggle world might have stumbled into disaster. The record was dry, but the implications were anything but.
"After investigation, Winchester is normal, with no trace of radiation," Patricia read from a clipped Muggle report attached to the file. "Professors from Oxford and Cambridge claim the white light that appeared on July first was an extremely rare natural phenomenon… Reports from the BBC and ITV."
"Then that makes it even less our responsibility," Patricia said. She remembered the aftermath now. She had even assisted in the large-scale memory-modification operation that followed.
"What will Rita say when she sees this file?" Janus asked.
Patricia fell silent.
"She'll scream it across the front page," Janus said, pinching his throat in a mocking imitation of Rita's voice. "Fudge used an innocent baby as a stepping stone to become Minister." His expression hardened. "And if this touches former Minister Bagnold, I promise you that report will appear in Rita Skeeter's hands almost immediately."
Before Patricia could answer, someone at the far end of the corridor shouted, "Barty Crouch is here."
The fireplace in the hall flashed green, and a tall, thin man stepped out of the flames. Barty Crouch Sr. had once been almost certain to become Minister, until his own son was exposed as a Death Eater and destroyed that future. He had since been moved to the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and though he remained a department head, everyone knew it was a promotion in name only.
The officials in the corridor quickly made way for him. No one wanted to stand too close to Crouch while his face looked carved from thunderclouds. Even now, years after his fall, he carried enough authority to make people straighten unconsciously.
"Patricia," Janus said quickly, "if Headmaster Dumbledore arrives, take him directly to the office."
He hurried after Crouch into the Minister's office, which looked as though a storm had torn through it. Papers covered the floor, broken objects lay near the wall, and Fudge stood behind his desk breathing hard.
"Dolores, Janus, Albert, Kidley, stay," Fudge ordered when he saw Crouch enter. He waved everyone else out with an impatient jerk of his hand. Apart from Crouch, the four who remained were core members of the Minister's office, people whose loyalty was tied directly to Fudge himself.
"Barty, I order you to take responsibility for this matter in your personal capacity," Fudge snapped. He slammed his hand onto the desk, glaring at the copy of The Daily Prophet as if he could tear it apart with his eyes.
Crouch's mouth tightened, but he did not immediately respond.
"Who did you think you were?" Fudge demanded. "A member of the Order of the Phoenix? Acting on your own to avenge the McKinnons by going after the Williams family? You threw them into Azkaban without trial, and you included a baby."
His thick index finger jabbed toward Crouch's hooked nose. "The Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Wizengamot have been lying to me. Everyone has been lying. Deceiving me. Even my own office has been deceiving me."
"Minister Fudge," Crouch said coldly, "I will not tolerate insults directed at the Aurors of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."
"At that time," his expression seemed to say, "that baby was clearly already dead." But the words did not come out, because saying them aloud would only make the room colder.
"Our Aurors were forced to make impossible decisions," Crouch said instead. "You know that better than most."
"Ha. I nearly forgot you are the famous Barty Crouch," Fudge said, his anger rising again. "Our righteous former Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Was it not you who used the Imperius Curse on an infant? Was it not you who sent a mother and child to Azkaban without trial?"
Crouch's eyes hardened, but Fudge pressed on. "You constantly claimed it was all to end the Wizarding War as quickly as possible. You allowed Aurors to use Dark magic against Voldemort and the Death Eaters. And in the end, the scandal hanging over us is a curse used against a baby. You have shamed the Ministry, and you have shamed the Aurors."
"Fudge, you have no right to say that," Crouch snapped.
The two men leaned toward each other until they were nearly face-to-face. Years of fear, ambition, guilt, and resentment seemed to crowd between them, thick enough to choke the room.
"I have no right?" Fudge shot back. "Barty, you always claimed to be the most righteous wizard in the Ministry. Tell me, what is the difference between what you did and what Voldemort did? Is it only that you failed to leave a lightning scar on that child's forehead?"
For once, Barty Crouch had no answer. Fudge's voice kept rising, and the muffling charm on the door could not fully contain his rage. Out in the corridor, every word became a distorted echo of the Minister's fury.
Patricia stood by the fireplace, worried and helpless. When green flames flared and Headmaster Dumbledore arrived, she stepped forward quickly. "Headmaster Dumbledore…"
"I know everything," Dumbledore said gently.
He raised one hand and walked toward the office where the anger was boiling over. Behind him, the fireplace roared again, louder this time, and a group of people led by Lucius Malfoy stepped into the Ministry. They were representatives of several pure-blood families, and they had clearly come to reclaim what they had lost during the war by using this scandal as their opening.
"Headmaster Dumbledore," Lucius said with a smooth smile, "thank you for your owl. Otherwise, we would not have known the Williams family still had a descendant."
There was real gratitude in his words, though it was wrapped in calculation. Lucius Malfoy rarely said anything without weighing the profit first.
"He is a brave child, worthy of everyone's respect," Dumbledore replied calmly. "I believe what truly matters is not bloodline, but character. Everyone present today, I think, has come here for kindness and justice."
Malfoy opened his mouth, then paused as though Dumbledore's statement had briefly robbed him of the proper angle of attack.
"For kindness and justice, Headmaster," Lucius said at last, his smile growing thinner. "Beautifully said. The Williams child is worthy of an old wizarding name. After all, he survived even in Azkaban."
His cane tapped softly against the floor. "Still, you may wish to prepare yourself. I have received word that Ilvermorny in the United States and Beauxbatons Academy of Magic in France have already sent admission invitations to Mr. Roger Williams."
"Is that so?" Dumbledore said cheerfully. "That is wonderful news."
Lucius's eyes narrowed.
"No matter which school Roger chooses, I will be truly happy for him," Dumbledore continued. "A kind-hearted child deserves the best education available. I believe that wherever he studies, he will become an excellent wizard, not because of bloodline, but because of character."
Malfoy's face darkened slightly. He had meant to use the news to unsettle Dumbledore, but the old wizard remained far calmer than he had expected.
"How generous of you, Headmaster," Lucius said in a low, smooth voice. "However, certain members of the school board believe Hogwarts should not so easily give up the descendant of an old wizarding family. If Roger chooses another school, the board may have reason to question whether Hogwarts' educational philosophy has developed certain… problems."
He stepped closer, watching Dumbledore carefully. "Of course, we all know Hogwarts is the finest school of magic in the world. As long as you give the boy a little proper attention, Roger will surely choose Hogwarts. On that point, most witches and wizards in Britain share the same view."