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Last of The Fae Chapter 148: A Discussion of Equals?
🕑 Added 2025-04-14 21:05:04 +0000 UTC"GODDAMNIT!" Fudge roared, slamming both fists down onto his desk with such force that several quills rolled off and a stack of parchment spilled across the floor. He loomed over the battered wood, face flushed and contorted with barely-contained fury. "Fae should be behind bars! Why does no one else see the danger he represents? He’s planning something—he has to be!"
Across the room, Lucius Malfoy stood unbothered, watching the outburst with cool detachment. His gloved fingers curled around the silver serpent head of his cane, "If Lord Fae is plotting something," Lucius said evenly, "then the worst thing we could do is allow ourselves to be ruled by emotion. Now is the time for calculated strategy, not tantrums."
Instead of pacifying the Minister, Lucius’ words lit a fresh fuse. Fudge jabbed a trembling finger at the nobleman, his voice rising like a teakettle under pressure. "If we’d won that trial, we wouldn’t need another one of your damn schemes! Don’t talk to me about strategy—I put my trust in your plan, and it blew up in our faces!"
"Winning was never guaranteed," Lucius replied, his voice like ice cracking under weight. "Only an amateur would stake everything on a single gambit. Surely even you know not to keep all your acromantula eggs in one cursed basket."
Fudge’s face twisted into a mask of indignation. "You calling me an amateur? A fool?" he spat. His voice trembled with rage. "If anyone’s to blame, it’s you, for parading that pampered brat of yours onto the witness stand. Draco got played like a harp by Cassian Vale. He handed Fae a victory on a silver platter!"
Lucius’ knuckles whitened around the head of his cane, his nostrils flaring—though he remained outwardly composed. Barely. "My son performed his role within the parameters agreed upon. What you call failure is merely the cost of a longer game you clearly lack the vision to comprehend. So rather than deflect your shame, I suggest you take responsibility for once in your incompetent, blustering life."
Fudge stumbled back a step, his fury dissolving into something more fearful as Lucius’ magical aura unfurled like a storm cloud. The pressure in the room shifted, becoming heavier, darker. Fudge’s voice lost its bite, reduced to a nervous stammer. "Y-you c-can’t talk to me like that—I’m the Minister of Magic!"
Lucius leaned in slightly, just enough to make the weight of his presence undeniable. "Yes... you are," he said softly, retracting his aura with precise control. Fudge exhaled as if suddenly freed from drowning depths. "And if you wish to remain Minister, you’d be wise never to insult my son again. Because I assure you, Cornelius... if you do, you’ll never see another vote cast in your favor for as long as you live."
Fudge blinked, wide-eyed like a stunned deer caught in the wandlight. "...W-what’s that supposed to mean?"
Lucius merely offered him a ghost of a smile, one that never reached his cold grey eyes. "We’ll talk again soon... Minister."
With the faintest rustle of his cloak, Lucius turned on his heel and swept toward the exit. But as he reached for the door, it opened abruptly from the other side.
Amelia Bones stood on the threshold, her raised fist still half-curled, clearly having been seconds away from knocking. Her sharp eyes narrowed with immediate suspicion as they landed on the unexpected visitor. "Lord Malfoy," she said crisply, her voice devoid of pleasantry. "What a surprise. What exactly are you doing here?"
Lucius stepped aside with practiced poise, offering her a shallow, sardonic bow. "Madam Bones. Working late as ever, I see. I was merely having a brief... policy discussion with the Minister regarding his future in office. Nothing of consequence, I assure you."
He brushed past her without waiting for a reply. Amelia turned, watching him disappear down the corridor, then looked back at Fudge, who had quickly sat down and was fiddling with the papers on his desk like a scolded schoolboy.
"Do I even want to know what that was about?" she asked.
Fudge cleared his throat, failing to meet her eyes. "Just... small talk."
Amelia sighed, deeply and audibly. "I fear I’ve arrived too late to stop whatever that was. Cornelius, if you’re smart, you’ll stop humoring that man. Every relationship Lucius Malfoy maintains comes at a price... and it’s never his to pay."
Fudge only grunted, jaw tight, resentment smoldering just beneath the surface.
"Anyway," Amelia continued, tossing a folder onto his desk, "my department has finalized a formal procedure for the deployment of dementors in public spaces. Might help you avoid the next disaster."
Fudge scoffed, eyes narrowing. "Why wasn’t this implemented before the incident?"
Amelia crossed her arms. "Because you went over my head and greenlit the operation solo. You said—and I quote—‘We need to show initiative and take control of the narrative.’"
She turned to leave, her tone dry. "Consider this an opportunity to reclaim some of that narrative."
Left alone, Fudge’s fingers curled into fists as he stared after her. His office was quiet again—but inside, a thousand schemes stirred. His plans had failed. His authority had been challenged. The control Fudge had so carefully implemented after getting Wizarding Britain back on track after the War was slipping through his fingers and one boy was the root cause.
With a firming resolve, Fudge grabbed his stationary and began to write a letter. It was time that everyone remembered that Cornelius Fudge was the Minister of Magic and he didn't need the permission of anyone to do what was best for the people.
---
"Girls, he’s not going anywhere—you don’t have to pin him down like he’s about to vanish into thin air," Daphne called out, amusement coloring her voice as she leaned against the doorframe, watching with a knowing smile.
Rose, curled around Thane’s side and practically glued to his arm, shot Daphne a mock glare. “Please. You’re going to snatch him up the moment Luna and I let go. And we all know how long you like to take your turn. You’ll have him wrapped up for hours.”
Daphne shrugged with feigned innocence, her grin widening. “Guilty as charged. I make no apologies for being efficient with my time. But I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make me wait too long. My patience may be refined, but it isn’t eternal.”
“I feel like I should have some say in this,” Thane interjected with a dry chuckle as he tried to prop himself up—only for Luna to drop onto his chest with feather-like precision, sending him sprawling back down onto the plush mattress.
“Nope,” Luna said with a mischievous smile, her silver-blonde hair cascading over his face as she leaned in and planted a kiss on his lips. Thane exhaled into the kiss and wrapped one arm around her waist, his free hand sliding up to thread lazily through her hair.
Feeling Thane's touch Luna deepened their kiss throwing her arms up around his neck as his hands started to roam across her seductive body and curves.
"Hey don't hog all of him," Rose complained and as she pressed herself to Thane's side Luna let go of Thane's lips making room for her friend.
Once more Thane was embraced with a kiss, however before he could move to the eventual conclusion of their activities, he felt a vibration in his pocket.
With laughable effort, Thane sat up with Luna still clinging to him as he reached down and pulled out a rectangular piece of glass encased in a leather cover.
Reading the notification on the two-way mirror Thane's face darkened as frustration and furry bubbled inside of him, "That self-conscious, arrogant pig-headed fuck!"
"What's wrong?" Daphne asked very concerned, she had never seen Thane so explosive before.
"What's that in your hand?" Luna asked staring at the device Thane was holding.
"It's a prototype for what was supposed to be Fae Inc. next product, but that's going to have to wait." Thane muttered as he stood up Luna still hanging on to his neck, "Luna you're gonna have to let go of me now."
"Aw," Luna protested but let go dropping to the ground before hopping onto the bed with Rose who looked equally disappointed.
"Thane what's going on," Daphne asked as she walked over placing a hand on Thane's chest only to feel the broiling heat of fire as his heart pounded.
Adjusting his robe Thane took a steadying breath only to find it did nothing the the raging inferno inside of him, "I just want to be left to my own devices but clearly that's impossible. The Minister just announced a slew of new regulations regarding the alchemical components for publicly sold potions. Which wouldn't be nearly as much of a problem if the bastard hadn't also launched an audit against Fae Inc."
Daphne's face soon shifted to match Thane's mask of anger, "What are you going to do?"
Thane snorted smoke trailing from his nostrils, "Something I should have done long ago."
