Harry Potter’s Book of Sin

“Good evening, Mr. Scrimgeour.”

“Oh, yes, good evening! Come in…”

The smile of our minister is still quite stiff, which undoubtedly shows that he still has not been accustomed to using a richer expression to deal with the objects that need him to show his kindness.

However, Marx is still very happy about this. Because he thinks that if Scrimgeour will smile at him very naturally, then when he goes to Scrimgeour, he needs to keep a few more eyes.

Unfortunately, once it is fully adapted to the “Ministry of Magic” position, it means that it will face the temptation of the big right.

On a certain day in the future, whether Scrimgeour will see a highly influential wizard like Marx as a potential competitor is an unknown number.

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

“Mr. Mr. MrLorne, it’s a rare thing for you to come to the Ministry of Magic. I hope you didn’t bring anything…” Scrimgeour greeted Marx and greeted him. “Hey, let me know… Come, sit down!” Would you like something to drink?”

At the door, Marx saw the door open, and then he put down the knocking hand, and then walked into the office of the minister.

Compared to other rooms, it can be said that it is quite spacious, but in fact there is nothing worth mentioning. Oh, except for the large photo frame hanging on the wall – there is a wizard who has made great achievements in the position of Britain Ministry of Magic.

This is actually similar to Hogwarts’ headmaster office… Of course, Hogwarts’ headmaster has a long service life, so even if you put every portrait on the wall, it’s more than enough.

On the walls of this office, there are not many people who can make their portraits.

“Don’t bother, I came from the bar, I just had enough to drink…” Marx sat down casually on the sofa next to him and chuckled. “Then, you can rest assured, I don’t have today.” Bring something terrible news.”

“Oh, is it?”

Scrimgeour suddenly relaxed – he was still thinking, is there any big movement, so that Marx has to run over and tell him something!

So, Scrimgeour sat down on the sofa opposite Marx, and looked at the latter with a trace of doubt.

“That… is there anything I need to help?”

He is also busy working in his position for a whole day, even if everything seems to be back on track today, he will not do much less.

The pressure from the Dark Lord is going on. The long-overdue government affairs are not so easy to remove. The documents that require his final ruling can be said to be piled up every day.

It can be seen that the most obvious thing on Scrimgeour’s face at this time is the feeling of exhaustion that has nowhere to hide.

“I believe there is still a lot of work you have to do, and I went straight to the point,” Marx looked at Scrimgeour across the coffee table. “I need to visit Azkaban to visit a prisoner – that is, the one I entrusted to you not long ago.” The alchemy contestant.”

Scrimgeour hearing this is a glimpse, it seems a bit strange.

“Which the African delegation?” he wondered. “She can now be interrogated in the Wizard Prison of the International Wizard Federation. You know the things we have over there. You didn’t know before you left. Also let the female reporter of “Daily Prophet”…”

Marx saw him mention the old witch and immediately waved at him.

“No, not her,” Marx explained. “I mean the previous one – remember? The bald-headed witch who attacked during the event had alchemy tattoos…”

“Oh! Is that he?” Scrimgeour suddenly stunned. “If you want to go, of course! I will sign a pass for you, then…”

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

I saw him flipping over the pile of documents on the table, probably looking for something from today’s night shift staff, and quickly raised his head again.

“I let a night shifter Auror accompany you, and there must be unimpeded there.” Scrimgeour said as he pulled a piece of paper from a basket and leaned over to write.

The current Azkaban has been very different from the past.

Voldemort controlled the events of the dementor, so that the Ministry of Magic no longer fully believed in the group of monsters. Instead, it added a wizard who was good at Patronus Charm and was responsible for the outposts. The jailbreak action caused by Marx added the Ministry of Magic to the cell. Less defensive spells, try to reduce the possibility of prisoners escaping.

Of course, this is certainly not enough to hold Voldemort’s level of powerful wizard, and now Marx in front of Scrimgeour is naturally the same.

So, after understanding Marx’s intentions, his heart was still quite enjoyable – at least Marx did not rush to Azkaban, which is a valuable respect for his Ministry of Magic.

……

The former director of the poker face of the Auror office was still very efficient. Soon after, Marx passed the one after another in the Ministry of Magic and reached the threshold of the island where Azkaban was located. He took a trip to the place he had traveled. Distance.

The difference from the last time he came here is that this time his hands and feet were not locked, and Auror who accompanied him would not treat him as a criminal.

In fact, he is still an acquaintance next to him – Kingsley Shacklebolt, an elite member of the Order of the Phoenix.

At this point, Marx was on the stone road paved by black rock. On the ridiculous land around, there is no dementor everywhere, and only some stones exposed on the ground show signs of sea water scour.

This small island on the North Sea is often hit by violent sea storms. In the worst case, the raging waves will even drown the entire island.

At that time, the existence of the island itself could not be seen, and only the towering Blackrock Fortress stood on the sea.

“Kingsley, I heard that you may be promoted? The position of the director of the Auror office is not far away?” Marx walked and said, “Congratulations, the busier days are coming.”

“Yeah, a busier day…”

Kingsley’s expression is also unclear whether it is happy or otherwise, and it seems somewhat complicated. After a short while, he shook his head and seemed to throw his emotions aside for the time being.

“Don’t mention my little things,” he glanced at Marx and sneered. “How do you feel like returning to the sinner of the Quiddich World Cup and the benefactor of the Britain magic circle?”

Marx looks around the scenery, and since it has long been into the night, it is hard to see it in the distance. After he looked at a few eyes, he curled one’s lip.

“Well, I don’t know if I really miss those dementors…”

The Black Rock Fortress has a large area, and the two of them have basically not said a few gossips. They just walked forward for a few minutes, and the iron gate under the fortress is already in sight.

Marx still remembers that this heavy door was still completely hoisted by the hinges, because no one in the past thought that there would be a prisoner jailbreak.

Nowadays, this door has finally played its due role and steadily landed in the groove on the ground.

At the door, Kingsley volunteered to present Scrimgeour’s signature document. As the winch ka-cha was turned by the wizard swinging inside, the gate slowly rose and Marx and Kingsley walked into the real prison area.

“Oh,” Marx said with a bright eye. “Do you know… I got here, I found a little more about the feeling of revisiting the place.”

The vestibule of this Blackrock fortress is much cleaner than it used to be. The dry black and yellow weeds have been removed, and the broken bricks and stones have disappeared. Even the cracks on the wall seem to have been repaired.

If there weren’t those dementors who wandered around, it was actually possible for people to come in and live normally—although the most memorable thing about Marx was the group of “cute” dementors.

When I come to Azkaban to find someone, I don’t have to pay too much for Marx. Watching a wizard here, he accurately took him to the jail of the old man, and even took the initiative to help him drive away the nearby dementor.

“Trouble to open the lock!” Marx whispered.

The watchman glanced at Kingsley, and after the other party was definitely nodded, he pulled out the wand and opened the lock on the door for Marx.

Marx pulled the iron door open and gave a shrill “creak” sound, which sounded quite a bit sour.

In this prison, the bald head was curled up in a pile of old straw with a dirty prison uniform. The sound of Marx’s opening seemed to have no effect on him at all, and he didn’t even let him move a little.

“Wake up.”

Marx walked over to him and slammed his back, but there was still no reaction.

If you really want to ask questions, then you must find a way to open his mouth, but Marx does not need him to really speak.

Seeing this guy is like a dead body lying down on the ground, with the back facing him completely meaningless, Marx directly turned it over and opened his closed eyelids.

He came to see the bald Alchemist tonight, but he just wanted to confirm if he had missed what that’s all when he showed his last time.

In the next moment, a large number of memory images flashed one by one in Marx’s mind, and his eyebrows became wrinkled and tightened.

If you just read the memory selectively, that’s not a big deal, but if you’re screening in large quantities, it’s not easy for the curse.