Cornelius Fudge stood amid a bustling construction site just outside the gates of Merlin City, a sense of triumph washing over him. Thanks to the steady backing of the Ministry of Magic Development Foundation, the British Ministry of Magic had been showered with unprecedented funding; for centuries, no other ministry had been so well-supported. Fudge imagined the gratitude of its employees—and even the admiration—as he oversaw the project's many moving parts.
At the same time, he'd been granted command of Merlin City's defenses—a powerful bonus he hadn't anticipated. Merlin City was emerging as a hub for top-tier wizarding families and guilds from across the globe. If the British Ministry of Magic could align itself with these elite circles, it would prove an immense diplomatic—and strategic—victory.
Since construction had begun on Merlin City Phase II, Fudge had taken it upon himself to inspect the site every few days. He nurtured the hope that those families and guilds, observing his dedication, would grant land on the Floating City for a new Ministry outpost. Securing such a base would solidify the Ministry's presence—and Fudge's prestige.
Though Merlin City Phase II was still under initial groundwork on the surface, preparations below ground were viable. Count Dantes, having supplied the gerebato magic crystal, could inscribe the protective magic arrays at any time. But first, the ground-level structure needed completion. Wizards from around the globe—almost exclusively Count Dantes's workforce—performed at remarkable speed. Fudge couldn't help but reflect that, were these workers to relocate to the Muggle world, their engineering expertise would serve the public far better than anything in wizarding Britain.
Fudge stroked his chin thoughtfully. Dantes—wealthy, generous, and, in Fudge's estimation, a little naive—was putting forth vast resources without hesitation. If Fudge were in Dantes's position, he'd double the price of those magic arrays and crystals. Yet Dantes remained benevolent. Without his support, the delicate arrangement underpinning Merlin City's defenses—built on Dantes's goodwill—could collapse. Fudge recognized that Dantes's status as honorary Deputy Minister of Magic made his contributions obligatory—a point Fudge reminded himself internally.
Feeling confident, Fudge offered words of encouragement to the workers. "Keep up the good work, and let's aim for early completion!" Then he turned toward Merlin City, intending to treat himself to lunch and a drink at the New Leaky Cauldron Bar before returning to the Ministry. But he failed to perceive the contemptuous, pitying looks fired at him by the workers—expressions he would later realize spoke volumes.
Inside a private dining room of the New Leaky Cauldron Bar, Fudge feasted like a king. Though the bar bore that name, its menu mirrored the lavish dishes served at Count Dantes's banquets—no surprise, considering how widely his recipes had circulated. A mysterious cut of meat slid into Fudge's mouth; its flavor burst forth, rich and unfamiliar. One sip of butterbeer doubled the sensory delight.
"Delightful," Fudge declared, feeling certain his life would now glide into a golden second act.
Then came an abrupt scream from the street outside.
Fudge frowned, rising from his chair to peer through a window. Flames of chaos illuminated the avenue: carriages careening out of control, pedestrians scattering, the air charged with panic.
"What is Scrimgeour doing?!" he thought angrily. If Scrimgeour failed to manage this crisis effectively, Fudge's reputation would also crumble in the public eye.
He set aside his food and strode out of the private room, catching sight of panic in the bar's common areas too. Just then, the door burst open, and a Hit Wizard barged in. Fudge recognized him as either Maoli or Maori—a newcomer who had joined the Ministry earlier this year.
"What on earth are you running in here for?" Fudge demanded, projecting his authoritative ministerial pose. His eyes scanned the bar's patrons, seeking applause for his composure.
"Minister! Something terrible has happened!"
"What is it?"
"The Fire Serpent Party is here!"
A collective gulp echoed through the bar. Fudge's knees weakened; he steadied himself by clutching the nearby table.
"Then go defend! Why come running here instead of fighting?"
In a rapid breath, Maori replied, "The Fire Serpent Party appeared simultaneously across multiple zones of the city, launching precise attacks on our deployed guards. It was so sudden—we had no time to respond. By the time they raided the streets, most Ministry outposts were already unreachable."
"Captain Kingsley Shacklebolt is on duty today. He sent the signal to activate Merlin City's magic array defenses, but… nothing happened. I fear those responsible for maintaining the arrays and the guards from prominent families have been attacked—maybe incapacitated."
Shackledbolt's voice had been calm on the Floo Network before it cut out. No further updates had come from the city's communication network.
Fudge's rage mounted. "Merlin City's entry protocols are now very strict! How did so many Fire Serpent Party members infiltrate at once? We keep our defense deployments confidential—how did they know where to strike simultaneously?"
He could not comprehend how such coordination had been possible. All he felt was powerless fury.
"Contact Scrimgeour! Tell him to send reinforcements!" Fudge barked.
Maori shook his head. "Captain Shacklebolt already contacted the Ministry at first opportunity, but Merlin City's Floo connections have been seized. We can't communicate by Floo at all. The only way is to send a cat owl—and that will take time."
"Then what do we do? What should be done?"
"Minister, you should hide. If they capture you as a hostage, it will put us in a dire position."
"Yes, yes, of course…" Fudge agreed, panic rising. He rushed to the bar counter voice raised, calling out, "Hannah's mother! Do you have somewhere I can hide—quick!"
Hannah's mother emerged from behind the counter, concerned. She whispered, leading Fudge toward the bar's back kitchen. "I have a food storage cellar. You can stay there, Mr. Minister."
Within moments, Fudge descended into the dim, cool cellar. The muffled echoes of bar chaos above gave nothing away. He sank into a hidden niche, trembling, hoping this desperate gamble would spare him capture and preserve his authority.
Meanwhile, somewhere else in Merlin City, Ollivander Avery dined quietly in his grand residence. The construction of Merlin City Phase II proceeded without delay; Count Dantes had ensured deliveries of gerebato crystals and full support for the project. Yet Avery, ever cautious, had not lifted a finger to aid Dantes in stripping him of defense control—he diplomatically sent multiple letters seeking distance, but the Count never replied. Likely, a lasting disagreement had settled between them, though Avery doubted Dantes would exact any vengeance, now that alignment with other major families had strengthened Avery's position.
Still, Avery was prudent. He had already paid 150 million Galleons toward the gerebato crystals, and, wary of potential strife, had secretly removed an additional 150 million from bank vaults and hidden it in his mansion.
Several other elite families had done the same. With Britain's Gringotts only nominally functioning and no European Goblin Elder Council representatives yet sent, security was minimal. Many believed their personal vaults within Merlin City homes provided the safest haven.
Avery was finishing a hearty meal when a disturbance outside shattered the peaceful high society setting. "Is this not supposed to be a quiet, upscale neighborhood?" he muttered. "I'll need someone to improve the soundproofing charms next time."
Then came a crash: the door flew open.
Avery's hand stiffened mid-motion toward his wand. Seven or eight robed wizards burst in—black robes with red trim, some fully red—each one wearing a mask branded with the Fire Serpent Party emblem. Their wands were raised at him.
Shock rippled across Avery's face. He could not act rashly. Why was the Fire Serpent Party invading? Where were Merlin City's guards?
A deadly silence hung in the room, punctuated only by the low hum of magic at the party's wands.
Back in the cold storage cellar beneath the New Leaky Cauldron, Fudge sat in the narrow niche, his heart pounding. The screams and crashes upstairs became distant threats rather than immediate dangers. He could feel no support coming from Scrimgeour or Kinglsley—but he did sense something deeper: a betrayal of trust in Merlin City's defenses.
The Ministry's magic arrays had failed. That failure felt personal. Fudge had believed he controlled the defense structure. Now, with the Fire Serpent Party moving through the city unhindered, his illusions shattered. Hours—or perhaps minutes—of careful engineering had been bypassed.
He closed his eyes, steadying his breathing. As Minister, he had no robot bodyguards; he had no squadron of Aurors with him down here. All he had was the bar's food cellar—and time. Time to consider his options, once the chaos subsided.
Above, voices shouted, curses tore through the air, and glass broke. Fudge pressed his back against the rough stone wall, his uniform dusty but intact. He tried to drown out the noise, focusing on the fact that surviving capture was essential. If news spread that the Fire Serpent Party had snatched the Minister himself, panic would set in—indeed, the Ministry's credibility would collapse.
So he waited, crouched and silent, gathering his mental bearings.
In Avery's mansion, the Fire Serpent Party operatives closed in. Avery's wand hand remained frozen; he dared not move. Outside, the city's defenders had collapsed or been eliminated. The magic arrays—once his family had trusted to protect all prominent residences—had failed to activate. He had always believed that Premier families like his had built-in defense protocols; now, those protocols lay broken.
Standing before Avery, the masked intruders whispered orders. One uttered, "Give us your vault combination and where you've hidden the remaining funds. Cooperate, and no harm will come to you or your household."
Avery swallowed. He hesitated. His reputation, his family's estate, and the fate of his loved ones weighed heavily on him. If he refused, they'd kill him. If he complied, he'd lose everything. Through clenched teeth, he began to speak.
"Start talking," said a voice from behind him. Another group of intruders wrestled a goblin-servant into the room.
Avery composed himself. "You won't get the vault numbers. What I hide, I hide well."
Masks hushed and glared. Torches flickered against the darkened walls.
Then suddenly—a detonation echoing from outside. The intruders stumbled. Avery used the moment to pull free the wand at his waist. At least he had enough presence of mind to flee.
Rushing through halls, he sought a safe room. The estate's soundproof charms muffled chaos beyond. But he knew that whatever protections magic arrays offered had failed across Merlin City. Fleeing would be his best chance.
In the Leaky Cauldron's cellar, Fudge heard muffled footsteps above. The bar had fallen—he could tell by the absence of clamour. He stayed quiet, hoping his concealment held.
Minutes dragged into an hour. Finally, silence stretched. Then he heard shuffling, heavy footsteps descending nearby. Someone was coming.
Fudge clasped his trembling hands, bracing himself. If guards came to rescue him—or enemies came to seize him—time would tell.
A low voice echoed: "Is anyone here?"
Fudge uttered nothing.
"Minister Fudge, it's Captain Kingsley Shacklebolt," the voice continued. "We're clearing out the invasion. We're heading up now. If you can hear me, respond."
Fudge exhaled—all air had tensed inside him. He whispered, "Minister Fudge, reporting." Relief flooded him as a tall figure stepped into the dim cellar light.
Shacklebolt offered a wand and helped him stand. Together, they ascended to the wrecked bar, where cryptic sounds of battle receded into the night.
Hours later, Merlin City braced under the aftermath of the attack. The Fire Serpent Party had struck fast and widespread—but Shacklebolt's counterattack, though delayed, had driven them back.
Fudge emerged from the bar, shaken but alive. The defense arrays remained inactive; investigations into sabotage had begun. Ministers and dignitaries gathered, shocked by the scale of infiltration.
Cornelius Fudge walked into the gathering room just after midnight, wracked with guilt and fear. Families whose defenses had failed looked at him, expecting answers. The patriarchs and guild leaders who had allocated land to the Ministry—and to him—now hesitated, uncertain where their loyalty should lie.
Heavy silence fell. Fudge met each gaze: some sympathetic, others cold, many furious. All now questioned the stability of Merlin City—and of his leadership.
As Shacklebolt laid out the timeline and the Ministry's delayed response, Fudge realized his comfortable future might be collapsing. Now, more than ever, he needed to assert control and restore faith—or everything he'd built could unravel in a storm of mistrust and chaos.
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