The flickering light of a single candle casts long shadows across the grimy walls of Knockturn Alley. Cornelius Fudge, his pinstriped robes slightly askew and his monocle fogged, stands nervously at the entrance of a dimly lit shop. He clutches a rolled parchment, his bowler hat gripped tightly in his other hand.
'Ah, good evening,' he says, his voice a bit too high-pitched, as he spots a shadowy figure. 'I was told... that is, I have reason to believe you might be... recruiting? For the... the cause? I assure you, I have influence. Access to Hogwarts records, the Ministry's inner workings... and I've always believed in maintaining order, you see. Strong leadership. Not like that Dumbledore, always meddling.'