When Maggie Met Cornelius

The Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher sat in her office and thought about how her day had gone so far. It had certainly been a long, one but it was not over yet- she still had a large stack of documents to look through and paperwork to fill out.

She had just reached out her hand to take the document on top of the pile when she thought she heard a cough behind her. It wasn't loud, but it was definitely a cough.

She must be hearing things, she thought, all this lack of sleep must be affecting her. She ignored it.

Suddenly a piercing voice sounded in the office. Margaret turned to see where the voice was coming from and saw, to her horror, that it was coming from the oil painting at the far end of the room, which depicted a squat, frog-like man with tumbling silver tresses that strongly resembled a wig. He was saying, "To the Prime Minister of Muggles. Request a meeting immediately. Sincerely Fudge."

"What on earth...?" Margaret said, but she stopped in astonishment when intense green flames erupted in the empty fireplace. A stout man emerged from within the flames, alarmingly fast. He slowed down and then stopped and climbed out onto the beautifully embellished carpet that covered the floor- coating it, Maggie managed to notice amidst her amazement, with soot.

Maggie stood up, alarmed, as the man, flicking dust off of his coat, strode forward toward her, proclaiming "Prime Minister, how good to meet you," and caught her hand in a strong grip.

"Who, may I ask, are you?" asked Maggie, determined not to let neither her voice nor her face display the concern she felt.

"I, my good lady, am Cornelius Fudge," the man answered her as he released her hand.

"Would you please explain to me what you are doing in my office, Mr. Fudge" she questioned him. She felt that her mind wasn't working properly. A man had just appeared in her fireplace. She had seen it with her own eyes. And yet maybe she had imagined it. She was in shock and felt unable to comprehend what was happening. This must be all an elaborate trick, she thought to herself. Yes, that would be the answer to it.

"If you would please sit down I will tell you."

"I prefer to remain standing, thank you," she replied, concentrating on keeping her worry out of her voice.

"If you insist. Well, you see," Fudge said, looking nervous, "I am the Minister of Magic. Now where do I begin...?"

***

"Get out, get out, you awful man!" cried the Prime Minister as she hit him over the head with her handbag.

"Prime Minister, you don't understand... if you would just listen for a moment... Prime Minister, will you please stop doing that!

It was a few minutes later and Fudge wondered where it had all gone wrong.

Maggie stopped but fixed him with a formidable glare. Fudge straightened his robes and noticed that he had been backing towards the window. Another step backwards and he would fall through it.

"I am not a trick set up by the opposition," said Fudge, in exasperation.

"So tell me who you are, then," Maggie shot back.

"I already have!"

"Well, you can't expect me to believe any of that."

"I can see, Madam," said Fudge with a reconciled sigh, "that this is not working. So I will take your leave and return when you have calmed down."

"Oh no you won't, "said Margaret furiously."I will make sure never to let you in here again. In fact, I don't know how you got here in the first place. All these green flames! It was a hoax, I'm sure of it!

"Well, let's not discuss that now," said Fudge in a worried tone, "I won't deny that I am disappointed about how this meeting has gone, but when you have reconciled yourself with the idea then I sure we can talk further."

Fudge may have been projecting an outwardly calm and collected front, but inside he was bristling with annoyance. He had never been spoken to in such a way before. And he had certainly never been attacked before with a handbag. He had been used to wands and yet he was attacked by this woman, using her handbag as a weapon. He would be a laughing stock if anyone ever found out about this. He was quite eager, therefore, to finish the meeting.

He strode to the fireplace and paused to turn towards her. "Madam, I bid you farewell," he said resignedly. She didn't answer him.

He bowed to her and then turned and stepped into the fireplace. The flames blazed emerald once more and then Fudge vanished.