A front-page headline in The Daily Prophet screams the news: Peter Pettigrew has escaped from Azkaban.
Within half a day, every copy of the paper is sold out. The wizarding public's faith in Azkaban's security has plummeted, and the Ministry of Magic, which had just started to regain some public trust after clearing Sirius Black, is once again the subject of a flood of Howler complaint letters.
"Blast it all! What are you imbeciles doing?! A grown man, with no wand, and you still let him get away?!" Minister Cornelius Fudge roars, his angry shouts echoing through his office. The Ministry official in charge of Azkaban stands before him, trembling.
Fudge is, as it turns out, just as incompetent as ever. After Sirius Black's escape, he should have known better than to put Pettigrew in Azkaban under the Dementors' care. Instead, he was busy with his own publicity stunts, publishing a seven- or eight-part series on his "wise and mighty leadership." Now, with Pettigrew's escape, all that goodwill has evaporated.
"Quickly, take me to see Mr. Dursley!" Fudge orders his new secretary. His old one had been fired for being "too dimwitted" (by walking into the office with his left foot first), but this new one is clearly sharper. Within two minutes, she's located Dudley and has a Floo route ready for the Minister.
In the past, Fudge might have sought advice from Dumbledore or other pure-blood wizards. Not anymore. He only trusts Dudley Dursley. He is certain that only Dudley can save him from this mess.
When Fudge arrives at Number 4 Privet Drive, he finds Dudley and his family enjoying a rare day off, having a BBQ in the garden.
"Mr. Dursley!" Fudge calls out, wiping sweat from his brow.
Dudley gestures to Harry and Hermione, and walks over to the Minister. Fudge thinks he sees Snape in the crowd, but he doesn't have time to wonder. He only has time to beg for help.
"This is about Peter, I take it, Mr. Fudge?" Dudley says calmly. He snaps his fingers, and a wicker chair appears behind Fudge. "Have a seat and relax. Try this." He hands Fudge a glass with ice and a dark liquid.
Fudge takes a large gulp, thinking it's a soft drink, and immediately starts coughing. The liquid is much stronger than the popular butterbeer. Dudley simply shakes his head, takes his own glass, and sips the rich, smoky Scotch whisky.
"I'd rather not have my family disturbed, Minister," Dudley says, a subtle hint in his tone. "The Ministry has been... rather active lately."
Fudge immediately understands the subtext. He knows. Dudley knows about the Ministry's secret operations.
"Don't worry," Fudge says, trying to assure him. "They're just Squibs. They won't cause any trouble for you or your family. We're just trying to protect Harry, aren't we? After all, Harry Potter is the great savior."
It's true. Many of the families in Privet Drive have moved away, and the Ministry has replaced them with Squibs. Fudge himself ordered it. He trusts Dudley, and he wants to have total control of the area.
Dudley simply nods. "Thank you for your concern." He moves on from the topic and gets to the point. "Mr. Fudge, this isn't necessarily a bad thing."
Fudge looks confused. "Peter's escape is a good thing? You must be joking."
"Think about it, Minister," Dudley says. "You're the Minister of Magic. Your time is valuable. You can't be personally involved in every single little thing, like locking up Peter. That's a job for other officials."
Fudge nods eagerly, like a baby bird accepting food from its mother. "You're right. I'm the Minister. I have no time for these little things."
"So it's not your fault, it's their incompetence," Dudley says, spelling it out for him. "You just need to find someone to take the blame."
Dudley's plan doesn't end with just finding a scapegoat. "You must also apologize to the wizards and witches. If you take responsibility and make a big show of it, you'll look like a good, strong leader."
"Brilliant! Brilliant!" Fudge exclaims. He can't believe he didn't think of this himself. Dudley has just solved his biggest problem in a few sentences. Fudge's respect for Dudley soars. He must have this man on his side.
Dudley's plan, however, has one more layer. "Mr. Fudge," he says, "if I remember correctly, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement is in charge of Azkaban, is that right?"
"Yes," Fudge nods.
"And its former head, old Barty Crouch, has always had a bad relationship with you. He was a big competitor when you ran for Minister."
"Yes, he was," Fudge agrees, and then his eyes widen. "You mean to say...?"
"I think Barty Crouch is responsible for Peter's escape," Dudley says. "And if I'm not mistaken, his son, Barty Crouch Jr., was a Death Eater, wasn't he?"
"Yes, he was..."
"If he raised a Death Eater, then he's probably not the best person to be running things. Don't you think some of the Ministry's high-ranking officials have been in their positions for too long... perhaps even longer than you, the great and mighty Minister of Magic?" Dudley asks, a cold smile on his face. "This is a problem. If they're working against you, your orders won't be followed."
Dudley's words bring back a lot of bad memories for Fudge. On the surface, he's the most powerful man in wizarding Britain, but in reality, many of the officials in his Ministry work against him behind his back.
"So, Minister Fudge... what do you think?"
"Mr. Dursley," Fudge says, his face lit up. "I think you're absolutely right!"