A dish best served cold

12

Harry Potter sat there in stunned silence. He couldn't believe the gall of the man that called himself the Minister. Cornelius Fudge had just told him that perhaps it would be best for all parties involved if a peace treaty was brokered with You-Know-Who.

The Headmaster and Harry had both laughed at first, thinking the Minister to be joking, but when the portly man became red-faced in anger, they realized that he was completely serious. To which Harry laughed again at the sheer absurdity of the whole thing. Dumbledore on the other hand, did not.

"Surely you cannot mean that, Cornelius. Voldemort wants only our full submission to his rule and he will eliminate all those who he deems unfit to live." He was giving the Minister a heavy look.

"Nonsense, Dumbledore, nonsense. He promised to stop all violence as long as you stopped attacking him. It's very simple. All he wants is to be left alone. That's all he wanted last time, as well." Fudge was attempting to put on a brave face, to show that he was sure of what he was saying. On the inside though, he was scared to defy the Dark Lord, and considering he was partly sympathetic to the man's cause, he felt it was his duty to do as asked.

Harry's eyes bugged out at that last statement. "You've SPOKEN TO HIM!? What the hell is the matter with you Fudge? He's feeding you lies. He doesn't want peace! He wants world Domination. Or submission, depending on which side of this war you are on. You can't trust him!" His acid green eyes drilled into Fudges beady black ones, trying to drive home the point. It didn't work apparently.

"So says the attention-seeking pubescent boy, who enjoys being in the spotlight." Fudge had intended this to come out as a cutting insult, but it came out as more of a whining and petulant attempt at name-calling. Harry just shook his head.

"Whatever you want to believe, Fudge, but there is no way in Hell that I'm going to be signing any form of treaty with the man that killed my parents for the sole reason of defending themselves and their friends. You are out of your mind." Harry waved a dismissive hand and looked away from the pile of garbage in a sack of flesh, named Cornelius Fudge.

The Headmaster spoke up, "Is that all Cornelius? If it is, I have a few things to discuss with Harry in private before breakfast," said Dumbledore with a soft smile.

"NO that is not all! YOU!" he said, pointing at Harry, "I demand that you withdraw your lawsuit against the Goblins IMMEDIATELY! AS MINISTER OF MAGIC, I ORDER YOU TO DROP ALL CHARGES!" he screamed, getting in Harry's face. Harry, who was fully displeased at having this man's mouth so close to his olfactory nerves, could see that the Minister was upset at having been denied on his first request. 'Trying a different tactic, eh Fudge? Well, jokes on you, pal. It's not going to get you anywhere.'

Harry stood up, bringing himself to full height where he could look down at Fudge. The fat little sweat machine backed off a step. "Let me tell you something, asshole. One, no one, and I mean no one, orders me to do anything. I live my own life, and if you don't like how I'm living it, piss off and die. Two, I will NOT drop the charges against Gringotts. They allowed my funds to be stolen, and did nothing to stop it. Their security was severely lacking, and they care only about money. They have, for so long, been the bank that everyone uses that they think people have nowhere else to put their money. Well, you fool, they are wrong. There are other Wizarding banks in this country, even if you are too ignorant to know about them."

At this point, the Minister began to realize just how deep of a hole he was in. He had come here today expecting to clear up one issue or the other, and had failed miserably at both. Doing the only thing he truly could do at this point if he had any hope in succeeding, he dropped down on his knees and begged.

"Please, Harry, I'm begging you. Do me this small favor and I'll make sure you get the best training in whatever field you want from all of the best teachers. I'll even make sure you get a job at the Ministry when you graduate." He clasped his hands together in a pose of praying. "Please, Harry, PLEASE!?"