Thinking he had finally pulled one back, Fudge was practically beside himself with impatience. If Tver had not been there, he might even have told Percy to drag the British Prime Minister back on the spot from whatever event he was still attending outside.
Unfortunately, the Statute of Secrecy did not allow that. Unless it was an extremely urgent matter, Fudge still had to get in touch with the Prime Minister in advance and find a suitable time when both of them were free before arranging a meeting.
Of course, what usually happened was that the Ministry of Magic checked the Prime Minister's schedule first, then simply picked a time slot and showed up.
It was not because wizards looked down on the muggle Prime Minister, but because people in positions like his generally did not believe what some man in a portrait hanging in the office had to say...
So it was not until evening that Fudge finally took Tver with him into a fireplace at the Ministry of Magic.
This time, they were not heading home after work, but... going to meet the Prime Minister.
...
At that moment, the current British Prime Minister was sitting in his office, staring at the papers on his desk with a headache.
He had no idea what the meeting promised by that odd man in the portrait was actually about, but he hoped that at least one absurd event might ease some of the frustration weighing on his mind.
Hah. The Minister of Magic...
The first time he had met that man called Fudge, who claimed to be the British Minister of Magic, had been five years earlier, just after he took office.
At the time, he had been full of ambition, eager to achieve something earth-shaking, only to have the existence of magic laid out right in front of him.
Although it had merely been Fudge's routine notification, something every Prime Minister went through, it also meant that every Prime Minister had to suffer that same fright once.
At first, he had wondered whether his eyes were deceiving him, but it did not take long for him to abandon that suspicion.
If the public ever learned that his eyesight had deteriorated so badly that he kept seeing the man in the portrait picking his nose, they certainly would not hesitate to make him the shortest-serving British Prime Minister in history...
As for the last time, that had been two years ago, over that supposedly vicious criminal, Black.
But unlike those two sudden intrusions, the man in the portrait had politely asked about his schedule, chosen a time slot in the evening before dinner, and made an appointment for this meeting.
That perfectly normal act of making an appointment immediately made him feel respected, so he did not mind the slight lateness.
Just as the Prime Minister was thinking this over, the decorative fireplace in his office suddenly erupted in bright green flames.
Before he could even wipe the frightened look off his face, a stout man suddenly appeared in the fireplace, spinning like a top.
A few seconds later, the fat man strode out of the fireplace, dusting soot off his clothes as he smiled and walked toward him.
"It's been a long time, Prime Minister. I'm glad your reaction is only surprise, and not screaming."
Fudge casually held out his hand, but before the Prime Minister could recall the details of their meeting five years ago, the flames in the fireplace flared up again.
The Prime Minister looked toward the firelight.
A tall figure appeared in the fireplace, but unlike Fudge, he did not spin. Instead, he inclined his body slightly with graceful ease and stepped out of the fireplace like a courteous gentleman, his clothes completely spotless.
The Prime Minister's astonished gaze moved back and forth between the helpless-looking Fudge and the composed Tver, and only came back to himself when Tver stopped in front of him.
"So you've been pushed out, Fudge!"
Fudge: [・_・?]
"What nonsense are you talking about? I'm the Minister of Magic. I always have been!"
His deepest anxiety had been struck head-on. Fudge immediately flew into a rage, embarrassed and furious.
"Well, this young man looks much more like the Minister to me..." the Prime Minister muttered.
He had no idea how sensitive Fudge was about that point. Fudge's anger surged at once, and he looked ready to argue with the Prime Minister on the spot.
"What would an old man like you know? Age means experience. I'm the one..."
"Tver Fawley. It's a pleasure to meet you, Prime Minister." Tver stepped neatly between the two of them and shook the Prime Minister's outstretched hand in a friendly manner.
"Although this meeting happened because I pushed for it, I am certainly not the one meant to replace Fudge."
"What are you saying, Fawley?! No one can replace me! I'm going to stay in this position..."
Compared to the shouting Fudge, the Prime Minister gave Tver an appreciative smile and turned slightly, gesturing for him to walk toward the desk.
"I'm very glad to meet such an outstanding young man as well. Please, have a seat."
Ignored just like that, Fudge stared blankly as Tver chatted with the Prime Minister as naturally as a seasoned politician.
He really had been angry just now, but more than anything, it had been an act meant to intimidate Tver.
After all, in Fudge's eyes, a young man like Tver could not possibly understand the way politicians talked to each other.
He had deliberately pretended to be furious because he wanted to see Tver panic, lose his bearings, and make a fool of himself, then step in as the magnanimous one and have a pleasant conversation with the muggle Prime Minister himself.
Would that not make his role stand out perfectly?
But now, after only a few short exchanges, Tver had already flattered that crafty old politician across from him so thoroughly that the man was smiling like a flower in full bloom.
If this kept up, Fudge would probably not even get a cup of tea.
"What are you two talking about that's making you so happy?"
Fudge shamelessly edged over, only for both of them to stop the conversation at once and look at him with identical expressions.
"Ahem." Realizing how awkward he looked standing there, Fudge quickly straightened his clothes. "Right then, let's not waste time on pleasantries. Let's talk business."
"Uh..." He suddenly realized that he did not really understand the Confederation's new regulation all that well. "The Confederation intends to, um, set up an office. Yes, that's right. With you, I mean, with us..."
Seeing the Prime Minister's baffled expression, Tver took over with an amused smile.
"The magical world intends to establish a joint office with Your Excellency's government. Its main purpose will be to deal with evil wizards who may appear in the future, and also to help both sides better conceal traces of magic and handle serious problems such as damaged buildings and casualties."
"Evil wizards?" The Prime Minister frowned unhappily. "Isn't that your business? Why would it involve us?"
"Prime Minister." Tver smiled faintly. "If we had a choice, we would not want to do this either."
"It is simply that we are about to face a powerful wizard whom the Ministry of Magic cannot deal with on its own. To put it plainly, we need your help."
Since he was, on the surface, asking for assistance, Tver naturally chose the more tactful phrasing.
But Fudge, still clinging to a wizard's arrogance, could not stand it. He had always believed the joint office would be led by the Ministry of Magic, and that they neither could nor should lower themselves before muggles.
Even if it served his own ends.
"You-Know-Who has not returned! And we do not need help from muggles. To put it even more plainly, what could people like them possibly do for us?!" He widened his eyes, as though that alone might make him look more imposing.
He did not expect those words to anger the already displeased Prime Minister.
"I do not know what is going on with your side, but if you insist on maintaining this arrogant attitude, then I can only say that you are not welcome here!"
Though displeased, the Prime Minister knew very well that if he rejected Tver's proposal in a fit of anger now, it would only make Fudge more pleased with himself.
For a politician, what matters most is never the policy itself.
Because the policy a politician needs most is one that can trip up an opponent.