Chapter 1081

"What did you say?" The Prime Minister looked at Fudge in disbelief.

Fudge took a deep breath and pushed his chest outward, "Prime Minister, I am very sorry to tell you that he is back. The devil who cannot even be named is back."

"Come back? You said 'come back'...Is he still alive? I mean..."

The Prime Minister fumbled in his memory for the details of that horrific conversation three years ago, when Fudge had said that everyone feared the wizard who had mysteriously disappeared fifteen years earlier after committing more than a thousand horrific crimes. .

"Yes, he's still alive," Fudge said dejectedly, like a deflated ball, and his whole body went limp.

"That is... I don't know... if a person cannot be killed, does it mean that he is alive? I don't really understand this word, and Dumbledore didn't explain it clearly - but he has a body and can Walks, talks and kills, so I think for the sake of our discussion, yes, he's alive and I saw him in person, in my Ministry of Magic."

The Prime Minister did not know what to say, but out of his enduring habit of appearing well-informed on every subject discussed, he began to search for any detail he could recall from previous conversations.

"Is Sirius Black following - er - the devil who must not even be named?"

"Black? Black?" Fudge turned the top hat in his hand quickly and said distractedly.

"Sirius Black...oh, no...that was all a few years ago. It turns out that Sirius Black is innocent. He is not the person next to that person. He works for Dumbledore, and in the Ministry of Magic, he He was also involved in the confrontation with that man..." Fudge turned his hat faster and said as if to save himself, "All the facts point to this - we have more than fifty witnesses - but no matter what, The guy's back... it's hard to deal with, and we captured a few of his minions, but Azkaban... well, it's not that difficult, for the guy..."

To Fudge's great surprise, a trace of pity for Fudge flashed across the Prime Minister's face. But the Prime Minister immediately pretended to cover it up, thinking that although he might not be as good as Fudge in manifesting himself from the fireplace, he would not let a murder happen in his department of government... Anyway, not yet……

The Prime Minister nudged his wooden desk surreptitiously, when Fudge continued, "But we only mentioned Black in passing. The point is, we are at war, Your Majesty, and we must do something."

"At war?" the Prime Minister repeated nervously. "It must be a bit of an exaggeration."

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named now has a following, you know, they escaped from Azkaban in January," Fudge said more and more quickly, twirling his top hat so fast , looks like a gray-green fuzzy ball. "Ever since they were free, they've been wreaking vengeful disasters. Braudel Bridge - he did it, Lord Prime Minister, and he threatened that a lot of Muggles would die if I didn't get out of his way, Moreover...this time he is not only surrounded by these prison-breaking gangsters, but also something worse..."

"What is it?"

"They exist in your legends."

"In fact, if nothing else, you are included in it." The Prime Minister said, "What is that!"

"Vampires, and werewolves, and if possible, a lot of dark creatures and giants..."

"Oh my God, what are these!" the Prime Minister said in shock, but then he came to his senses, "So... it means that the deaths of those people are all your fault... To be precise, it is these terrible monsters. ? And I had to answer that it was because the cables were rusty and the expansion joints were corroded, and I didn’t know what else!” said the Prime Minister angrily.

"My bad!" Fudge said, blushing. Would you give in to blackmail like that? "

"Perhaps not," said the Prime Minister, standing up and striding about the house, "but I will do my best to stop this blackmailer before he commits any such atrocity."

"Do you really think I didn't make every effort?" Fudge said fiercely. "Every Auror in the Ministry has sought - and is - searching for him and rounding up his followers, but we happen to be talking about the most powerful wizard of all time, a wizard who evaded capture for almost thirty years. "

"So I suppose you're going to tell me that it was he who created the hurricane in the Southwest?" The Prime Minister's temper grew louder with every step he took. It is infuriating to find the cause of all these terrible disasters and not be able to reveal it to the public; almost worse than blaming it all on the government.

"That wasn't a hurricane," Fudge said sadly.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" the Prime Minister shouted, stamping his foot. "Trees were uprooted, roofs torn off, lampposts bent, horrific casualties—"

"The Death Eaters did it," Fudge said. "A follower of the Devil Who Must Not Be Named. And... we suspect that the Giant is also involved."

The Prime Minister stopped in his tracks, as if he had hit an invisible wall.

"What's involved?"

Fudge smiled bitterly. "Last time he went for grand effect, he used giants. The Office of Misdirection is working around the clock, we have a team of Memory Revocation Agents to modify the memories of Muggles who saw the real situation, and almost all of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures is busy in Somerset, but we can't find the giant - it's a disaster."

"Is it true!" the Prime Minister said angrily.

"I will not deny that morale in the Ministry is very low at the moment," said Fudge. "In addition to that, we have lost Amelia Bones."

"Lost who?"

"Amelia Bones. Head of the Department of Law Enforcement. We think He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named killed her himself, because she was a very talented wizard, and - and there are signs that she really fought." Fudge cleared his throat and seemed to make a great effort not to turn his hat.

"But the murder was in the newspapers," the Prime Minister said, suppressing his anger. "Our newspapers. Amelia Bones... all they say is that she was a middle-aged woman who lived alone. It's - a nasty murder, isn't it? Well known. The police are all confused, you know."

Fudge sighed. "Oh, of course they are. Murdered in a house that's locked from the inside, isn't it? On the other hand, we know exactly who did it, but that doesn't help us catch him. And then there's Emmeline Vance, maybe you haven't heard of that name -"

"Oh, I have!" said the Prime Minister. "It's actually happening around here. The newspapers are making a big fuss about it: Trampling law and order in the Prime Minister's backyard -"

"And as if that weren't enough," Fudge added, barely listening to the Prime Minister, "we have Dementors running around, attacking people everywhere."

In the past, this statement would have seemed baffling to the Prime Minister, but he was wiser now.

"I thought Dementors guarded Azkaban prison?" the Prime Minister said carefully, having heard Fudge mention the name, used by the Ministry of Magic to guard wizard prisons.

"They used to be," Fudge said tiredly. "But not anymore. They abandoned the prison and joined He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I won't deny that it was a sudden blow, but, in fact, Dumbledore was right. Perhaps the Ministry shouldn't use Dementors to guard Azkaban, but in fact, there is no better guard than Dementors."

"But," the Prime Minister felt a growing fear, he said, "you're not going to tell me that they are those creatures that can drain people's hope and happiness?"

"In fact, that's it. They are breeding. That's why the fog is." Fudge said helplessly. Even wizards were unwilling to deal with these Dementors that had escaped from the Ministry of Magic.

To be precise, there were too few people who could master the Patronus Charm to fight against Dementors. Everyone had been lax for a long time. Except for a few Aurors, few people learned this difficult but rarely used magic.

The Prime Minister sank limply into the nearest chair. The thought of those invisible animals flying around towns and villages, spreading despair among his constituents, made him feel weak.

"Now, listen, Fudge - you have to do something! This is your duty as Minister for Magic!"

"My dear Prime Minister, after all this, can you believe that I am still the Minister of Magic? I was sacked three days ago! The entire wizarding world has been clamoring for my resignation for two weeks. I have never seen them so united in my tenure!" Fudge mustered up the courage to smile, but the smile was a little forced.

Two weeks ago, this was something he had been trying to avoid, but now it seemed that what he did was not taken seriously by everyone.

The Prime Minister was speechless for a moment. Although he was very angry about his current situation, he felt quite sympathetic to the shrunken man sitting in front of him.

"I am very sorry," he said finally. "Is there anything else I can do?"

"Thank you very much, Prime Minister, but there is nothing much I can do. I have been sent here tonight to update you on recent events and to introduce you to my successor. I thought he should be here, but of course, he must be very busy at the moment, with so many things going on at the same time."

Fudge looked back at the ugly man with silver curls in the portrait, who was digging his ear with a quill. He met Fudge's eyes and said, "He will be here in a moment. He is almost finishing his letter to Dumbledore."

"Good luck to him," Fudge said, sounding bitter for the first time. "I have written to Dumbledore every two days for the past two weeks, but he has not been swayed. If he is ready to convince the boy, I still... well, perhaps Scrimgeour will be more successful."

Fudge retreated into the distressing silence again, but it was immediately broken by the crisp, official voice of the portrait.

"To the Muggle Prime Minister. Requesting a meeting. Urgent. Immediate response. Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister for Magic."

"Yes, yes, good," the Prime Minister said distractedly, barely flinching as the flames in the fireplace turned emerald green again, another wizard swirling out of it, and in the blink of an eye he was spat out onto the pristine cushions.

Fudge stood up in astonishment, and after a moment's hesitation the Prime Minister also stood up. They watched the new guests stand up, dust off their long black robes, and look around.

When the Prime Minister first saw Rufus Scrimgeour, he thought he looked like an old lion. She has long brown hair and thick eyebrows mixed with strands of gray hair; she has a pair of sharp yellow eyes under a pair of metal-framed glasses. Although he walked with a slight limp, he exuded a casual and leisurely elegance. It immediately gives the impression of being smart and capable.

The Prime Minister suddenly felt that he understood why the wizarding society chose him to replace Fudge as the leader in this critical period. In chaotic times, determination and fierceness are the most effective methods.

"Hello," the Prime Minister said politely, holding out his hand.

Scrimgeour grasped it briefly and shook it, his eyes scanning the room, before drawing a wand from his robes.

"Minister Fudge has told you everything?" he asked, striding to the door and tapping his wand on the keyhole. The Prime Minister heard the lock click.

"Er--yes," said the Prime Minister. "If you don't mind, I'd like that door left unlocked."

"I don't like to be interrupted," said Scrimgeour tersely, "or to be looked at." He added, drawing the curtains from the window with his wand.

"Okay, well, I'm a busy guy, so let's get busy. First, we need to discuss your safety."

The Prime Minister jumped up and said, "I am very satisfied with my current security situation and very -"

"Well, well, it's not that," interrupted Scrimgeour. "The outlook for Muggles is not good if their Prime Minister is under the Imperius Curse. Your new secretary in the outer office—"

"I will not give up Kingsley Shacklebolt, if you say you want to give up on him!" the Prime Minister said fiercely. "He's very capable and can do twice as much as the rest of us -"

"That's because he's a wizard," Scrimgeour smiled slightly, a rigorously trained Auror assigned to your protection. "

"Wait a minute!" said the Prime Minister. "You can't just put your people in my office. I should decide who works for me-"

"I thought you were satisfied with Shacklebolt?" Scrimgeour said coldly. "I am - that means, I was -"

"Then that's all right, isn't it?" said Scrimgeour. "I...well, as long as Shacklebolt's work remains...er...outstanding," the Prime Minister stammered, but Scrimgeour barely listened to him.

"Now, as to Herbert Jolly, your deputy," he continued. "The man who entertained the masses by imitating ducks."

"What happened to him?" asked the Prime Minister.

"He was obviously under a not-so-subtle Imperius Curse," Scrimgeour said. "It messed with his brain, but he's still dangerous."

"He's just trying to quack like a duck!" said the Prime Minister weakly. "Of course there are other problems... maybe I like drinking..."

"As we speak, a team of healers from St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Maladies are examining him. He has attempted to strangle three of them so far," Scrimgeour said. "I think it would be best to isolate him from Muggle society for the time being."

"I...well...he's going to be fine, isn't he?" the Prime Minister asked anxiously. Scrimgeour just shrugged and got up and walked to the fireplace.

"Well, that's what I'm saying. I'll keep you informed of how things go, Prime Minister - or, at least, I might be too busy to come to you myself, in which case I'll send Fudge. He Has agreed to remain in an advisory role.”

Fudge tried to smile, but failed; he just made it look like he had a toothache. Scrimgeour was already fumbling in his pocket for the mysterious powder that turned the fire green. The Prime Minister stared at them both hopelessly for a moment, and finally uttered the words he had been suppressing all night.

"By God! - you are wizards! You can do magic! You can certainly solve - well - any problem!" Scrimgeour turned slowly and exchanged a suspicious look with Fudge.

Fudge really tried to smile this time. He said gently, "But the problem is that there is magic on that side, Mr. Prime Minister." After saying this, the two of them walked into the bright green flame one by one. ,Disappeared. (To be continued)