Chapter 754 Revisiting Azkaban

"Good evening, Mr Scrimgeour."

"Oh yes, good evening! Come in..."

The smile of our Mr. Minister is still quite stiff, which undoubtedly shows that he is still not used to using richer expressions to deal with those who need him to show kindness.

Maca, however, was happier about it. Because he thought that if one day Scrimgeour would smile at him very naturally, then when he faced Scrimgeour again, he would need to be more careful.

It's a pity that once he fully adapts to the position of "Minister of Magic", it means that he will have to face the huge temptation of power.

One day in the future, whether Scrimgeour will regard a wizard with great influence like Maca as a potential competitor is still unknown.

After all, although his position is astonishingly powerful, the longest interval between elections is only 7 years.

"Mr. McLean, it's rare for you to come to the Ministry of Magic on your own initiative. I hope you didn't bring anything..." Scrimgeour greeted Maca as he got up, "Look at what I said... come, please Sit down! Would you like something to drink?"

When Maca at the door saw the door open, he put down his hand knocking on the door, and then walked into the minister's office.

Compared with other rooms, it can be said that it is quite spacious, but in fact there is nothing worth mentioning. Oh, except for the large picture frame on the wall - there are wizards who have made remarkable achievements as the Minister of Magic in the UK.

This is actually similar to the headmaster's office at Hogwarts... Of course, most of the headmasters at Hogwarts have served for a long time, so it is more than enough to hang every portrait on the wall.

And on the wall of this office, there are not many people who can have their own portraits among them.

"Don't bother, I came from the bar, I've had enough just now..." Maca sat down casually on the sofa at the side, and said with a light smile, "Then, you can rest assured that I won't be drinking today. No bad news coming."

"Oh, is it?"

Scrimgeour immediately breathed a sigh of relief—at first, he was still wondering if something had happened again, so that Maca wanted to come over to talk to him in person!

So, Scrimgeour also sat down on the sofa opposite Maca with peace of mind, and looked at the latter with a hint of doubt.

"Then... is there anything I can do for you?"

He has been busy at his post for a whole day, and even today when everything seems to be back on track, there are not too many things he needs to do.

The pressure from the Dark Lord has gone down, but the long-standing government affairs are not so easy to clear up. It is not an exaggeration to say that the documents that require his final ruling are piled up like a mountain every day.

It can be seen that the most obvious expression on Scrimgeour's face at this moment is the tiredness that has no place to hide.

"I believe you still have a lot of work to do, so I'll get straight to the point," Maca said, looking at Scrimgeour across the coffee table, "I need to visit a prisoner in Azkaban—not long ago, I The alchemy contest attacker entrusted to you."

Scrimgeour was taken aback when he heard this, and seemed a little surprised.

"The witch from the African delegation?" He wondered, "She has already been interrogated in the wizard prison of the International Federation of Wizards. You also know about our handover there? Before leaving, didn't you And let the female reporter of the "Daily Prophet"..."

Seeing him mentioning the old witch, Maca immediately waved at him.

"No, not her," Maca explained, "I mean the one from before—remember? The bald wizard who attacked during the event, the one with the alchemy tattoo..."

"Oh! It's him?" Scrimgeour suddenly said, "If you want to go, of course you can! I'll sign a pass for you right now, and then..."

He said, stood up from the sofa, turned and walked to his desk.

I saw him rummaging through the pile of documents on the table, probably looking for today's night shift staff list or something, and soon raised his head again.

"I'll let an Auror on the night shift accompany you, and there will be no problem when we get there." Scrimgeour said as he took a piece of paper from a file basket, leaned over and began to write.

The current Azkaban is very different from the past.

The incident of Voldemort's control of the dementors made the Ministry of Magic no longer fully believe in those monsters, but instead sent more wizards who are good at the Patronus Charm to take charge of the peripheral sentries; A number of defensive enchantments were used to minimize the possibility of prisoners escaping.

Of course, this alone would definitely not be able to stop a powerful wizard of Voldemort's level, and the same is true for Maca in front of Scrimgeour.

Therefore, after understanding Maca's intentions, he was quite happy in his heart—at least Maca didn't go to Azkaban on his own. This is a valuable respect for him, the Minister of Magic. .

...

The poker-faced director of the former Auror office was still very efficient in his work. Not long after, Maca passed the only door in the Ministry of Magic leading to the island where Azkaban was located, and walked through it again. the distance.

Unlike the last time he came here, this time his hands and feet were not shackled, and the Aurors who came with him would not treat him as a criminal.

In fact, he was accompanied by an acquaintance - Kingsley Shacklebolt, an elite member of the Order of the Phoenix.

At this moment, Maca was walking on the stone road paved with black rocks. In the surrounding barren land, there are no dementors wandering around, only some exposed stones on the ground show traces of sea water washing.

This small island in the North Sea is often hit by violent sea storms. In the worst cases, the huge waves can even submerge the entire island.

At that time, the existence of the small island itself was invisible, only the towering black stone fortress stood tall on the sea.

"Kingsley, I heard that you may be promoted? The position of Auror Office Director is not far away, right?" Maca congratulated while walking, "Congratulations, busier days are coming."

"Yeah, busier days..."

Kingsley's expression couldn't tell whether it was happiness or something else, it looked somewhat complicated. After a while, he shook his head, as if he put aside the emotion in his heart for the time being.

"Forget about my little things." He glanced at Maca and said jokingly, "Sinner of the Quidditch World Cup, benefactor of the British magic world—how does it feel to be back here again?"

Maca looked around at the surrounding scenery. Since it was already night, it was so dark that it was difficult to see clearly when looking into the distance. After taking a few glances at him, he curled his lips.

"Well, maybe I really miss those dementors..."

The Black Stone Fortress occupies a large area, and the two of them basically didn't gossip. They just walked forward for a few minutes, and the iron gate under the fortress was already close in front of them.

Maca still remembered that the heavy door was still fully hinged, because no one would have thought that there would be a prisoner escape in the past.

But today, the door has finally played its due role and landed firmly in the groove on the ground.

At the door, Kingsley took the initiative to show Scrimgeour's signed document. As the winch was rattled and turned by the wizard on duty, the gate slowly rose, allowing both Maca and Kingsley to enter the real prison area.

"Oh," Maca said with his eyes brightened once he got inside, "You know what... I only found a little bit of the feeling of revisiting the old place when I got here."

The vestibule of the Blackstone Fortress is much neater than before. The dry, black and yellow weeds have been removed, the broken bricks and rocks have all disappeared, and even the cracks that should have been on the wall seem to have been repaired.

If there were no wandering dementors, people could actually come in and live here normally—although what Maka misses most here is the group of "cute" dementors.

This time he came to Azkaban to find someone, so Femaka didn't have to work too hard. A wizard guarding here accurately brought him to the prison door of the bald old man, and even offered to help him drive away the nearby dementors.

"Please open the lock!" Maca said softly.

The guard glanced at Kingsley, and after the other party nodded affirmatively, he pulled out his wand and opened the lock on the cell door for Maca.

Makara opened the iron door and made a piercing "creak" sound, which made one's teeth ache.

In this prison, the bald head is curled up in a pile of old straw, wearing a dirty prison uniform. The sound of Maca opening the door didn't seem to affect him at all, and didn't even make him move a little.

"Wake up."

Maca went to him and squatted down, and patted his back, but there was still no reaction.

If this person really wanted to ask questions, he must find a way to pry his mouth open, but Maca didn't need him to really speak.

Seeing that this guy was lying on the ground like a dead body, with his back turned to him without any intention of moving, Maca turned him over with all his strength, and opened his closed eyelids.

He came to see this bald alchemist tonight, in fact, he just wanted to confirm whether he missed anything when he performed Legilimency last time.

In the next moment, a large number of memory images flashed in Maka's mind one by one, and his brows became more and more wrinkled.

It's not a big deal if you just selectively browse through memories, but it's not easy for the spell caster if you screen in large quantities.

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