"Good evening, Mr. Scrimgeour."

"Oh yes, good evening! Please come in ......"

Our minister's smile was still a little stiff, which undoubtedly showed that he was not accustomed to dealing with those who needed him to show affection with richer expressions.

However, Maca is still happy about it. Because he thinks that if Scrimgeour will smile at him very naturally one day, then he will need to pay more attention when he faces Scrimgeour again.

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

It is unclear whether Scrimgeour will one day see a wizard as influential as Maca as a potential competitor.

After all, despite his incredible power in that position, the maximum interval between elections is only seven years.

"Mr. McLean, it's rare for you to come to the Ministry of Magic on your own initiative, and I hope you didn't bring anything ......," Scrimgeour beckoned as he stood up to greet Maca, "Look at what I said...... Come, please take a seat! Want something to drink? ”

When Maka saw the door open, she dropped her knocking hand and walked into the minister's office.

Compared to the other rooms, it can be said that it is quite spacious, but in fact, there are not many things worth mentioning. Oh, except for the large picture frame on the wall, which is full of wizards who have made a name for themselves as British Minister for Magic.

This is actually similar to the Headmaster's Office at Hogwarts...... Of course, most of the Headmasters of Hogwarts have been in office for a long time, so even hanging a portrait of each one on the wall is more than enough.

And on the walls of this office, there are not many portraits of yourself that can be included in them.

"Don't bother, I'm from the bar, I've had enough of it just now......" Maca sat down casually on the couch next to her, chuckling, "and then you can rest assured that I didn't bring any bad news with me today." ”

"Oh, really?"

Scrimgeour breathed a sigh of relief—he was wondering if there had been another big move that made Maca come over and talk to him personally!

So Scrimgeour sat down comfortably on the couch across from Maca, looking at the latter with a hint of doubt.

"That'...... Is there anything I can help with? ”

He has been busy at his post all day, and even today, when everything seems to be back on track, he will not have much less to do.

The pressure from the Dark Lord has gone down, but the backlog of government affairs is not so easy to clear, and it is not an exaggeration to say that the documents that require his final decision are piled up every day.

It can be seen that the most obvious thing on Scrimgeur's face at this time is the tiredness that has nowhere to hide.

"I'm sure you have a lot of work to do, so I'll get straight to the point," Maca said as she looked across the coffee table from Scrimgeer, "I need to visit a prisoner in Azkaban—the Alchemy Contest raider I entrusted to you not long ago." ”

Scrimgeour was stunned when he heard this, and seemed to feel a little surprised.

"The witch of the African delegation?" He wondered, "She's already being interrogated in the wizarding prison of the International Confederation of Wizards, and you know about our handover over there, right?" Before leaving, didn't you ask the female reporter from the Daily Prophet to ......"

When Maca saw him mention the old witch, she waved her hand at him.

"No, it's not her," Maka explained, "I mean the one from before — remember?" The bald wizard who attacked during the event had an alchemy tattoo on his ......"

"Oh! It's him? Scrimgeour suddenly said, "If you want to go, of course you can!" I'll sign you a passage document and ......"

As he spoke, he got up from the couch and turned to walk to his desk.

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

"I'll have an Auror on night duty accompany you, and you'll be there unimpeded." Scrimgeour said as he pulled a piece of paper from a basket of papers and leaned over to write.

Azkaban is very different from what it used to be.

Voldemort's control of the Dementors caused the Ministry of Magic to no longer fully trust the monsters, and instead sent wizards who were skilled in Patronus Charms to take charge of the outlying sentry; The escape caused by Maca caused the Ministry of Magic to add a number of defensive spells to the cells to minimize the possibility of prisoners escaping.

Of course, this alone will definitely not be able to stop a powerful wizard of Voldemort's level, and Maca, who is in front of Scrimgeour right now, is naturally the same.

So, after understanding Maca's intentions, he was quite happy in his heart - at least Maca didn't run to Azkaban on her own, which was a valuable respect for him as Minister of Magic.

……

The former head of the Auror's office was still very efficient, and it wasn't long before Maca passed through the only door in the Ministry of Magic to the island where Azkaban was, and retraced the distance he had traveled.

Unlike the last time he came, his hands and feet weren't shackled, and the Aurors who came with him didn't treat him like a criminal.

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

At this moment, Maca was walking on the stone road paved with black rocks. The surrounding barren land was no longer littering with Dementors, only a few exposed rocks showing signs of the sea's washing.

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

At that time, the island itself could not be seen, only the towering blackstone fortress stood tall on the sea.

"Kingsley, I heard you're probably going to be promoted? The position of the head of the Auror Office is not far off, right? Maca congratulated as she walked, "Congratulations, busier days are coming." ”

"yes, busier days......"

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

"Don't mention my little thing," he said, glancing at Maca, "the sinner of the Quidditch World Cup, the benefactor of the English wizarding world—how does it feel to be here again?" ”

Maca looked around at the scenery, and since it was already night, it was dark and difficult to see clearly when she looked into the distance. He looked at it a few times, then pouted.

"Well, maybe I miss the Dementors a little bit......"

The area of the Blackstone Fortress is very large, and the two of them basically didn't talk a few words, but after walking forward for a few minutes, the iron gate under the fortress was already close in front of them.

Marca remembers that the heavy door was still completely hinged up, because no one had ever imagined that there would be an escape from prison.

And now, the door has finally done its job, landing firmly in the groove of the ground.

At the door, Kingsley offered to show Scrimgeur's signature papers. As the winch clicked and was swung by the wizard on duty inside, the floodgates slowly rose, allowing both Maca and Kingsley to enter the real prison area.

"Oh," Maca's eyes lit up as soon as she got inside, "you know what...... It was only here that I found a little bit of a feeling of revisiting the old place. ”

The vestibule of this blackstone fortress is much cleaner than in the past. The dry, black and yellow weeds have been removed, the broken bricks and stones have disappeared, and even the cracks in the walls that should have been repaired seem to have been repaired.

If it weren't for the wandering Dementors, it would have been a place where people could have come in and live normally - although it was the "cute" Dementors that Maca missed the most.

This time I came to Azkaban to find someone, so I didn't need to work too much on Femaca. One of the wizards guarding the place accurately brought him to the door of the bald old man's cell, and even offered to help him drive away the nearby Dementors.

"Please unlock it!" Maca said softly.

The caretaker glanced at Kingsley, nodded affirmatively, and then drew his wand and unlocked the lock on the cell door for Maca.

Makara opened the iron door and let out a piercing "crunch" sound, which was quite tooth-souring.

In this cell, the bald head was 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, not even the slightest movement.

"Wake up."

Maca walked up to him and crouched down, patting him on the back, but still didn't react.

If this really wanted to ask, it would have required some way to pry his mouth open, but Maca didn't need him to actually speak.

Seeing that this guy was lying on the ground like a dead corpse, with his back to him and not moving at all, Maca directly turned it over and opened his closed eyelids.

He had come to see the bald alchemist tonight, in fact, just to confirm if he had missed anything when he performed the Regent Mind Technique last time.

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

It's not much if it's just selectively going through memories, but if it's sifting through a large batch, it's not easy for the spellcaster.