Faced with Fudge's demand, Rufus Scrimgeour nodded noncommittally. Though he often found himself at odds with Fudge, in this matter, at least, they were in rare agreement.
After all, today's actions by the Alliance made one thing painfully clear: they had absolutely no regard for the British Ministry of Magic.
And in the final moments of the encounter, when the Alliance's wizards left the scene right under the noses of numerous Aurors, it was as if they had slapped the Ministry square in the face—except, as Scrimgeour bitterly noted, it was a slap the Ministry had practically invited upon itself.
Scrimgeour's original plan, following the battle at the Ministry, had been to place the key members of the Alliance under strict surveillance, with the primary objective of tracking down their fabled new leader.
Then, at the right moment, to strike with overwhelming force.
If they could capture the majority of the Alliance's core members in one decisive operation, then no matter how many followers remained, they would be nothing more than a scattered and disorganized rabble—easily crushed in due course.
But Scrimgeour's plan was swiftly vetoed by Fudge.
Fudge had been utterly terrified by the recent battle at the Ministry. Now, his sole priority was ensuring that the Alliance did not directly turn against the Ministry itself. As long as they weren't actively targeting his administration, Fudge was content to pretend they didn't exist.
After all, compared to adversaries like the Magical Congress of the United States, the conflict between the British Ministry of Magic and the Alliance wasn't truly irreconcilable. And if crushing the Alliance came at too great a cost, why should the Ministry bear that burden alone?
To make matters worse, Fudge's stance found a surprising amount of support within the Ministry. As a result, rather than losing influence after the attack, he had actually solidified his position. Now, with his hold on power more secure than ever, he was even less inclined to move against the Alliance.
Scrimgeour sighed heavily at the thought. Turning to the hastily approaching Fudge, he asked,
"Minister, what do you think the Alliance was trying to achieve with today's spectacle?"
Fudge furrowed his brows impatiently.
"How should I know? That lot are completely mad!"
Scrimgeour let out a bitter chuckle.
"I truly wish that were the case. Unfortunately, they aren't mad at all. In fact, they're quite intelligent… and terribly cunning."
Just then, an Auror rushed over and spoke to them in a hushed tone.
"Minister, Chief, I think you'd better come and see this."
There was something odd about the Auror's expression—an uneasy look, as if he had just witnessed something beyond comprehension.
Exchanging a glance, Scrimgeour and Fudge followed him without hesitation.
When they arrived at a narrow alley not far from Zonko's Joke Shop, they were greeted by a shocking sight:
Wizards lay sprawled across the alley, some unconscious with their eyes tightly shut, others wide-eyed but utterly vacant, as if completely detached from the world around them.
But what was most peculiar—each of them had a sign hanging around their neck.
The signs did not just bear their names; they also listed their past crimes.
The nearest wizard, for instance, stared blankly into space, his mouth slightly ajar, a single droplet of saliva trickling down his chin. Around his neck, the sign read:
Tiago Costa—In 1989, used the Imperius Curse on a Muggle. Later escaped while being transported to Azkaban.
Scrimgeour and Fudge exchanged uneasy looks before checking more of the signs.
Without exception, each one detailed similar offenses.
In short, every wizard lying in this alley, according to the signs around their necks, was bound for Azkaban.
Just as Scrimgeour and Fudge were trying to make sense of it all, another Auror approached, handing a sealed envelope to Fudge.
"Minister, we found this at the entrance to the alley."
Fudge reached for the letter, but Scrimgeour quickly stopped him.
Fudge gave him a puzzled look.
"Minister, we should be cautious," Scrimgeour said calmly, drawing his wand.
With precise movements, he cast a series of detection spells:
"Specialis Revelio!"
"Finite Incantatem!"
Only after ensuring there were no concealed dangers did Scrimgeour pass the letter back to Fudge.
"It's safe now, Minister."
But Fudge merely waved a hand dismissively.
"You read it, Rufus."
Unsurprised, Scrimgeour unfolded the letter and read aloud:
"No need to send them—we brought them to you ourselves!"
"Consider these wizards a gift from the Alliance. Go ahead, take the credit. No need to thank us!"
It was a short message, but it filled Scrimgeour with a deep sense of humiliation.
He had considered the Alliance his greatest adversary since taking office, but clearly, they did not see him as a threat at all.
As Scrimgeour stood fuming, Fudge suddenly erupted.
"The nerve of these scoundrels! This is outrageous!"
Scrimgeour was momentarily taken aback but quickly felt a surge of hope.
Had Fudge finally reached his breaking point?
Was this it? The moment he would finally authorize decisive action?
Scrimgeour clenched his fists, his mind racing.
We've gathered intelligence on many of the Alliance's key members. Just give the order, Minister! If you give the word now, we can move immediately—arrest them all in one sweep!
But Fudge did not give the order.
Instead, he fumed,
"What do they mean, a gift? Those Dark wizards were defeated thanks to the tireless efforts of the Ministry! This is entirely the achievement of the British Ministry of Magic!"
At those words, Scrimgeour let out a long, silent sigh.
At last, he abandoned any lingering hope in Cornelius Fudge.
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