“Where’s my hat? Has anyone seen my hat? I can’t go on like this!” Cornelius Fudge ran frantically around the backstage, blubbering, until a stage hand placed a lime green bowler hat on his head. “Finally! Much, much better. Remind me to promote you later!” The stage hand smiled. Fudge promoted about fifty people a day and the producers eventually decided to ignore him. It was probably for the best after one boy whose previous job had been to fetch doughnuts had been promoted to Vice President in a space of three hours.
Life had been hard for Cornelius Fudge after being sacked as Minister of Magic. Certainly, the most evil wizard in the world had eventually been defeated, but what good had that done him? He was still out of a job. He’d had no other choice than to accept the only job he’d been offered- the position of host on the new Wizarding show, ‘England’s Got Evil’.
Fudge hadn’t understood the concept- a program where witches and wizards of England voted on their favorites? What kind of monstrosity was that? But job offers were rather low. And astonishingly, the show had taken off like mad. Normally a wireless broadcast, tonight’s finale would be a live show in front of real live witches and wizards! Fudge was in agony.
“Fudge! You’re on in three-” Fudge looked around in a panic, trying to find the stage, before a lighting wizard turned him in the right direction. “Two-” He couldn’t do this! It would be too horrible! “One!” The combined efforts of three witches backstage shoved him onto the brightly lit platform in front of thousands of cheering witches and wizards.
“Welcome to England’s Got Evil!” Fudge shouted after a quickly cast Sonorus Charm. “I’m your host, Cornelius Fudge, bringing you the live finale!” The crowd cheered, and Fudge smiled jovially.
“Tonight, our final three contestants compete for fame, glory, and a chance to install a hot tub into their cell in Azkaban!” The crowd roared in approval. “So without further ado, allow me to present our contestants. First off… our very own Mistress of Evil, the one and only Bellatrix Lestrange!”
A tall, dark-haired witch stepped out onto the stage, two Ministry officials on either side of her as she struggled. Any beauty she may have had before was lost now as she cackled maniacally in response to the crowd’s cheers. While she appeared to have been given a floor length black dress with glitter on it for the show, she had torn it to tatters as she twisted and turned, trying to escape the invisible bonds that held her.
“Next up, our most hated Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, nicknamed ‘Small Town Evil’ by our producers… Amycus Carrow!” A small, (obviously) evil-looking man skulked out onto the stage, barely bothering to struggle against the invisible ropes that held him. Not even the purple spangled dress robes that he had been forced into could brighten the appearance of the sulking man.
“And finally, hide your children! May I present… Fenrir Greyback!” There were six wizards surrounding the man that bounded out onto the stage, snarling as he tore at unseen binds with his bare hands. The audience’s applause seemed dotted with shudders as they watched the man begin to tear at his own matted, grey hair instead.
“And those are our final contestants!” Fudge announced. “And now let me introduce our judges. This one has seen all the evil in England for the last five hundred years- Nearly Headless Nick!”
“I’d prefer Sir Nicholas-” The rest of the voice was drowned out by applause as a barely visible shimmer waved at the audience before seating himself in front of the stage.
“The man of the hour and one of my favorite celebrity Quidditch commentators, Mr. Lee Jordan!” Lee waved as well as he sat next to the shimmer that was Nick.
“And finally, I still can’t believe we got her to judge but we all need something to look at during a boring act, Madam Rosmerta of the Three Broomsticks!” Fudge got a bit carried away at that point, giving Rosmerta a pinch on the rear as she took her seat. It took a few minutes for the Stinging Hex to wear off.
“Right! Now, you know the rules,” Fudge announced. “Just speak the name of your favorite contestant into the chair in front of you, and the wizard- or witch, excuse me, Miss Lestrange!- with the most votes wins! And now, let’s get started. England’s Got Evil presents…Bellatrix Lestrange!” As Fudge ran off, sweating profusely, the lights dimmed and Bellatrix sauntered onto the stage, still wearing the ripped black dress.
“Evil is my life!” she screamed. “And I love hot tubs almost as much! Boys, hit it!” Wincing from her screeches, a slow ballad began to play as Bellatrix opened her mouth… and sang.
“They call me ‘the evil one’,
How I wish it were true!
Because baby, I’m not the evil one,
Not when there’s you!
You leave me, for a seeker,
Despite being what I’ve sought,
But oh my, darling Dark Lord,
Your love just can’t be bought.”
And as the music became more sweeping, Bellatrix began to dance across the stage, the entire crowd clapping along in rhythm.
“But, now!
There’s nowhere, to hide,
Since you pushed my love aside I’m,
Out of my head,
Hopelessly devoted,
To you, ooh,
Hopelessly devoted…
To you.”
Bellatrix threw herself onto the stage, screeching again, as the song came to its rousing finish and the audience began to cheer, eventually leaping up to give her a standing ovation and drowning out her voice, which sounded much nicer singing than it did screeching. Not that it was an achievement, but still.
Bellatrix was eventually dragged off the stage as Fudge reentered, grinning.
“What a voice! Let’s get another round of applause for Bellatrix Lestrange, shall we?” The crowd cheered again. Many were holding up signs that said things like, “Stella’, Bella!” and “My Fix Is ‘Trix!”
“However, now we have to move on to our next contestant.” Fudge was rather enjoying himself now as he importantly brushed the dust off of his robes. “A hard act to follow, but we’ve got faith in him… Amycus Carrow!” The applause was considerably less than it had been for Bellatrix, as Fudge exited for the sullen Death Eater.
Carrow stood in the center of the stage until the entire crowd was silent. What would he be performing? Carrow had changed his act every show. But now he seemed to be pulling something out from behind his back! It was…
“Hello, everybody!” said the puppet that bore a striking resemblance to Cornelius Fudge. “Glad you could come out to see me today!” The crowd roared as the puppet produced a lime green bowler hat to put on its head. It was amazing how Carrow’s lips weren’t even moving as he made the puppet speak! (Backstage, Alecto Carrow groaned. It hadn’t been easy, sneaking out of the audience to provide the voice for her brother’s puppet.)
“Have you heard the one about the troll that walked into the bar?” The puppet asked Carrow, who shook his head. “He said, my name is Cornelius Fudge! Haha! Haha! Haha!” The audience exploded with laughter. “And the one about the ex-Minister of Magic who went into the kitchen and-”
“And that was Amycus Carrow!” Cornelius Fudge shouted hastily, rushing out onto the stage as he motioned for various stagehands to pull Carrow off of it as the crowd applauded him tremendously. “Yes, very nice, who knew there was somebody else in England named Cornelius Fudge? Haha!” The crowd was silent as sweat poured down Fudge’s neck. “Right.”
“Well, we’ve got one final act for you here. But first, we have a special guest appearance by the hippest, most happening band of the moment. They’re small in stature, but big on talent! Introducing…” Fudge paused for a minute as a drum rolled. “Kreacher and the House Elves!”
The applause was louder than it had ever been on the show before. The entire stage seemed to shake with the vibrations of it. But strangely, no house elves appeared.
One minute went by. Then two. The audience was beginning to throw things when Fudge hurried back out with an announcement.
“I’m afraid Kreacher and the House Elves won’t be able to make it today, as their lead singer had to make Harry Potter a sandwich! However,” Fudge shouted above the roars of discontent from the audience, “we have a replacement! Five minutes ago they might have been stage hands but now, may I present to you… Stage Handz!” The audience was silent as two greasy looking wizards just barely out of school darted onto the stage and, looking nervously at each other, began to sing and dance.
“There’s brand new grease, going round the world,
It’s deep in the heart, of every stage boy and stage girl,
But it’s not so new,
It’s primitive and cool,
If you look you can find it, in a can of drool.
Yeah-”
The two stopped singing fairly quickly in order to drop to the ground and dodge the vegetables, jinxes, and small children that the audience had begun throwing. Fudge hurried back on rather quickly.
“The Stage Handz,” he said, rushed, before moving on. “Now, for our final act, guard your hearts, from Fenrir Greyback!” The applause was particularly tremendous (most likely because it was after the Stage Handz) as the werewolf was thrown onto the stage. His outfit had changed- instead of robes, he was wearing a baggy tracksuit and three pounds of gold jewelry. But that was nothing as he opened his mouth and began to rap.
“Yo, the name’s Greyback,
And that’s no joke,
It’s hard to find people,
Who don’t taste like egg yolk,
I love to bite, love to rip and tear,
Against me, your children don’t stand a prayer.
Greyback’s in the house!
What!
Greyback’s in the house!
Oh yeah!
I eat your kids for breakfast,
Your husband for later,
And after that, yo,
I’m gonna eat the waiter.
Greyback’s in the house!
What!
Greyback’s in the house!
Oh yeah!”
Unfortunately, at this point he got slightly carried away as he attempted to launch himself onto a child he saw in the audience. He was stopped quickly, but his rap was forced to end there as he was dragged out by seventeen witches and wizards and Fudge came back onto the stage, panting.
“Well, that was quite exciting! I’ve never seen a finale quite like this!” The audience cheered their agreement. “Now, while the scores are tallied, a final word from our judges! Nick!” The crowd went silent as the shimmer in front of the stage spoke.
“Splendid show, really. All were quite fabulous! Quite frankly, they all deserve that hot tub!”
“Lee?” Lee Jordan stood up to tremendous applause.
“Some foul play there by Greyback, and a penalty by Carrow with those Fudge jokes, that was low-”
“That will be fine!” Fudge stopped him. “And the beautiful Rosmerta?”
“The beautiful Rosmerta would like to go home,” said the witch as she drummed her fingers against the table, not bothering to get up. “I still can’t believe you couldn’t find anybody else to do this job, Cornelius.”
“Any thoughts on the contest, though?” Fudge prompted.
“I’m thrilled it’s over.”
“Good enough!” Fudge said jovially. “Now, let’s get our contestants back on stage!” Due to what had happened during Greyback’s act, the three contestants were now escorted onto the stage in steel cages as Fudge conjured an envelope out of the air.
“I have the results here!” he announced as he waved them around and the crowd grew silent. “The winner of England’s Got Evil is…” It felt like not a member of the crowd was breathing as Fudge peeled open the envelope and read what it said inside, his jaw dropping. “Stage Handz?”
The audience seemed dumbstruck. Even Bellatrix was silent.
“Well,” Fudge said doubtfully, “come get your prize, then, Stage Handz!” The two stage hands darted out onto the stage, giggling like a couple of school girls as they grabbed the trophy that had materialized out of thin air. “So,” he asked them, trying to stretch out his air time, “how do you explain your success?”
“Our cousin Barney put the entire audience under a spell to vote for us!” the shorter Stage Hand explained excitedly. “It was great!” Fudge stared for a moment, then shrugged and turned back to the audience.
“Well, apparently England does have evil!” he shouted. “Barney’s new cell in Azkaban will be furnished with a large hot tub! See you next season on… England’s Got Evil!” Waving, he exited the stage.
You know, Fudge decided, as he watched the cousin of the Stage Handz being grabbed by two Aurors, perhaps there is something to be said for a desk job after all.
England's Got Evil by Just Tink
Chapter Notes: Thank's to my beta, ms weasley! While the songs sung by Bellatrix and the Stage Handz may sound strange enough for me to own them, the second verse of Bellatrix's song is from 'Hopelessly Devoted To You', owned by the people who made 'Grease', and the song of the Stage Handz is based on 'Altar Boyz', owned by the Altar Boyz people. The rest, unfortunately, is my own.