The Death Eaters fled en masse!

Azkaban prisoners die massively!

These are two unrelated things, and wizards with an "A" in a Defence Against the Dark Arts class at Hogwarts can tell that the prisoners died because of the Dementors, not the Death Eaters.

But this is clearly an unrealistic request.

For nearly thirty years, the quality of Defence Against the Dark Arts classes at Hogwarts has fluctuated greatly from year to year, with an "A" being a high score that many wizards can not hope for.

Rita Skeeter is really changing, she tries to be objective, and even in the article, she goes out of her way to explain that the deaths of these prisoners are due to the Dementors, and reprimand the Ministry of Magic for neglecting Azkaban, even if the prisoners are human wizards.

Not everyone has the patience to read the entire story, word by word.

The word "Death Eaters" is already terrifying, and the word "death" is clearly and abundantly all around them.

The wizards were in a trance one morning, and they went back to sixteen years ago.

They remembered a story in the Daily Prophet.

Dumbledore and Potter played lies and deceived the Ministry of Magic in an attempt to create panic with rumors that "the mystery man is back" and "the mystery man is trying to come back" in order to deepen their influence in the wizarding world.

When the newspapers rebuked over and over again, reinforcing the impression that "Dumbledore and Potter were liars".

It also deepens readers' impression of the "rumor" itself over and over again.

Public opinion is surging and surging backlash.

The Ministry of Magic became a dumping ground for yelling letters, and Fudge's office was the central receiving station.

Wait until nine o'clock to get to work.

Scrimgeour was embarrassed by the two owls on his head and a series of grinning roaring letters behind him, and although it was only a wave of his wand, he kept them, and he was reluctant to deal with them immediately.

He unscrewed the door to Fudge's office.

"My dear Connelly." Scrimgeour was in high spirits, even if the owl's tail feathers fell from his head and put it to his mouth as he said this, "This is really bad news, have you watched "Singing Against the Tune"? ”

"It's hard to imagine that the Ministry of Magic should find out that it was a derelict job after a magazine."

Fudge blushed: "You know what kind of magazine it is!" ”

"You know what kind of woman Rita Skeeter is!"

"Crazy, unorganized, full of lies"

Scrimgeour interrupted him, "Connelly, Ms. Skeeter doesn't lie more than you do. ”

"Rufus!" Fudge gritted his teeth.

"I've sent people to Azkaban to investigate, and the results will be available at noon at most." Scrimgeour clapped his hands and said briskly, "Now let's prepare for an emergency meeting, whether this is true or not, we should save the Ministry of Magic." ”

He waved his wand.

Tons of howling letters flew out behind them, the magic that temporarily bound them failed, and one by one they grinned wide, and foul language erupted.

"Cornelius Fudge, this cockroach-ridden guy, can we still be safe?"

"My leash dog can do better than you in your place!"

"A new era for the Ministry of Magic? Aha, it's a new era, and at least no Minister of Magic has been able to break out of Azkaban in two years! "A New Era for the Ministry of Magic" was Fudge's slogan when he released Sirius, earning him at least five points of approval.

However, it is now because of this sentence that he has lost at least ten points of support.

The scolding was like thunder.

Fudge raised his wand and swung it slightly, spitting out flames.

Scrimgeour recited the incantation: "My dear minister, why don't you listen to these are the spurs of your dearest constituents?" ”

"Rufus, don't go too far." Fudge gritted his teeth.

Scrimgeour scoffed, "Minister, these are not worth mentioning compared to what you did. ”

"Twelve o'clock at noon, Wizengamot, see you or leave."

He straightened his owl-scratched hair, straightened his tie, and strode out of the office.

The Wizengamot is a very special body, with a large number of seats in the power structure of the entire Ministry of Magic, but it usually doesn't happen, and this year is special in that they have met twice in just three months.

Once because of Cornelius Fudge, for Harry Potter.

This time it's also because of Cornelius Fudge.

Twelve.

Dumbledore sat where Cornelius Fudge had been sitting, looking at the "friend" with a complicated expression who had the same face and a completely different demeanor from more than ten years ago, and as the chief wizard of the Wizengamot, he did not speak.

No one asked him to speak.

The old witch who sat next to her slowly recounted the opening words.

This was Dumbledore's usual attitude, with his ability, status, and qualifications, he should sit in the position of chief magician, but he would not use any power - even if it was just a simple statement of the opening, he was unwilling to do it.

"In summary, the current Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement of the Ministry of Magic, the Wizengamot Council Group, the Department of Magical Accidents and Disasters, and the Department of Magical Communications, a total of five departments, have filed impeachment opinions against the current Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge."

"Minister Fudge, what else do you want to say?" The old witch took a deep breath and took a moment's hesitation, she was too old, and it was a heavy burden for her to say such a large passage in one breath.

She muttered to Dumbledore, "Albus, I suspect you just feel too tired to do this." ”

Dumbledore smiled and shook his head, but did not speak.

"Did those people really escape from prison?" Fudge clenched his fists, and he was nailed to the table like a thick, low stake.

Scrimgeour spoke, "Of course, the Aurors who went to investigate have returned. ”

"It's not just the Death Eaters who are fleeing. The Dementors broke their contract and used prisoners as food. Even our jailers on Alcatraz are dead, dead by Avada, and have been dead for at least a month. ”

At least a month.

Dumbledore raised his hand, gently pushed his glasses, and leaned forward slightly.

Fudge ate two pounds of Umbridge and drooped down his zygomaticus and cheek muscles like pugs.

"Looks like Minister Fudge has nothing to refute?" Scrimgeour slowly raised his hand, "I suggest, vote now."

Fudge slammed the table: "Wait! ”

He pulled it up, dragging his chair and making a shrill sliding sound: "Now the Ministry of Magic can't do without me!" ”

"I can solve this problem!"

Scrimgeour tilted his head to look at him, "You've only solved one problem, and that's Sirius Black's problem, but my dear Minister Fudge, everyone knows it's not your job. ”

"You won't be able to solve anything without Mr. Potter's advice, just the same as before. Mr. Black has been wronged and is still hiding like a fugitive, and you, again, will say "maybe we could have done something before, but it's too late", and let time cover it up. ”

"You don't have any convincing."

"Cornelius Fudge!"

He waved his hand and gave the order: "Vote now, if you think it is time to impeach Cornelius Fudge and replace the Ministry of Magic with a new minister who is reliable, capable, and thoughtful, please raise your hand." ”

His hand was kept up.

Half of the wizards from the Wizengamot and the various divisions of the Ministry of Magic who were eligible to participate in the council raised their hands.

Voted.

Umbridge was stunned, but lowered his head and carefully recorded the meeting.

Scrimgeour smirked.

Very good

He loved "Singing Contrarian" to death, and that report threw the last straw and completely crushed Fudge.

Fudge sat stiffly, silent, and motionless.

Scrimgeour glanced at him, looked away contemptuously, looked at Dumbledore again, and clapped his hands lightly: "Very well, it seems that everyone agrees to impeach this incompetent fellow, the situation is urgent, we should now elect a new Minister of Magic?" ”

The old witch of Wizengamot nodded: "Then nominate the call." ”

She raised her wand and, with a flick of it, conjured a blackboard: "I propose, Ms. Amelia Bones, Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement." ”

"I propose Mr. Rufus Scrimgeur, Chief of Staff of the Aurors."

"I propose Mr. Pierce Hinknes, Deputy Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and Captain of the Magical Law Enforcement Team."

Candidates for Minister of Magic, usually born from the real power department.

The Department of Magical Law Enforcement is the word that appears on the resume of almost every minister.

This time was no exception, with the names of the three candidates written on the blackboard.

"Isn't there anyone else chosen?" The old witch sighed. This is probably the lowest number of people eligible to run for Minister of Magic.

Ludo Bagman's whereabouts are unknown.

Barty Crouch died.

"Then vote." The old witch said as she looked at Dumbledore.

With a wave of his wand, Dumbledore saw a piece of parchment, a quill and a bottle of ink appear out of thin air in front of everyone, a level of magic that only he could do.

Soon, everyone wrote down their own approved name.

The ballot paper floated and flew past the old witch's eyes, and she read the words on them, showing them to everyone, and then drew a horizontal line behind the corresponding name on the corresponding blackboard.

An hour later.

All the ballot papers were sung.

Scrimgeour stared at the blackboard, dumbfounded.

How so.

He calls himself the "Minister of Magic".

The old witch calmly summed up the final result: "Eleven votes for Ms. Amelia Bones, thirty-nine votes for Mr. Rufus Scrimgeur, and fifty-six votes for Mr. Pierce Hinkenes." ”

"Mr. Dumbledore abstained."

"The Wizengamot and the Ministry of Magic voted to impeach Mr. Cornelius Fudge, the former Minister of Magic, and Mr. Pierce Hinkness, Deputy Director of the Law of Magic and Captain of the Law of Magic Enforcement, to take over as Minister of Magic."

Applause rang out.

A tall, thin, taciturn man with a goatee stood up, politely bowed to everyone.

I almost wrote the word "positive" to count the votes, but after writing it, I found that the British did not have the word "positive", and almost made a joke, damn it!

(End of chapter)