There was a lively discussion in the office.

They looked at Thicknesse with different looks in their eyes.

But not as complicated as Stringer.

This... is impossible for Thicknesse to do. He doesn't have such a smart brain, nor does he have such a desperate spirit. How could he, an ordinary puppet minister promoted by Voldemort, make the most beneficial choice for himself at this time?

He stared at the left arm of Thicknesse, who was still delivering his impassioned speech.

There was no Dark Mark on it.

He had wanted to raid the Department of Mysteries today, capture the two Death Eaters, and then force Thicknesse to step down. Even if he couldn't get hold of the correspondence between him and Malfoy Manor, the testimony of these Death Eaters would be enough to convict Thicknesse - after all, Mr. Potter and Mr. Dumbledore were standing behind him.

But now, this road is not easy to walk.

Thicknesse got one step ahead of himself, he captured the Death Eaters and "convicted" himself.

Especially the last sentence.

"Always stand with Mr. Dumbledore and Mr. Potter, and stand on the front line against Voldemort."

It was almost like pointing at his own nose and calling him a lackey of "Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore". Could Thicknesse say such a sophisticated thing?

He could become Minister of Magic.

But the idea of ​​becoming the Iron Minister and holding almost 100% of the real power by fighting the Death Eaters, just like before, was completely shattered because of that sentence.

Scrimgeour glanced at the officials in the room.

They either celebrated Voldemort's death, or were moved by Thicknesse's honesty, or cheered for themselves...

But he knew.

These people are now considering a question, that is, "Is the Ministry of Magic the Ministry of Magic for these wizards, or the Ministry of Magic for Mr. Potter and Mr. Dumbledore?"

What a pathetic person...

“Rufus, Rufus,” Thicknesse called his name. “Come here.”

Scrimgeour came to his senses and walked towards him.

"The person who is qualified and most deserving to be the Minister of Magic now is you." Thicknesse looked at him and said enthusiastically, "Come up and say a few words to everyone."

Scrimgeour walked over to the table.

At this moment, he undoubtedly became the master of this table and the master of this room.

"You-Know-Who, no, Voldemort is dead." Scrimgeour took a deep breath and uttered the name that had always frightened people. "He was at Malfoy Manor. The dead included not only Voldemort, but also a group of Death Eaters. I have asked Tonks to rush over to deal with the scene and confirm the identities of the dead Death Eaters."

He didn't mention Bellatrix.

The guy who was captured alive by Mr. Potter and is still imprisoned in Hogwarts.

Mr. Porter said she was still useful.

Then let Mr. Potter keep it.

"It can be said that Voldemort and his Death Eaters have been almost completely wiped out, and we are no longer threatened by them." Scrimgeour concluded softly.

Just when he was about to say the following words.

Thicknesse led the applause, and the applause was loud and enthusiastic.

Scrimgeour was interrupted, and his emotions were interrupted. When the applause gradually died down, he continued: "I am well aware that there are more than just these two termites in the Ministry of Magic. There are many more."

"I hope everyone can come forward, surrender and confess, so I don't have to do it myself."

"This way the charge will be lighter and it will look better."

He looked at the crowd, many of whom lowered their heads and did not speak.

Scrimgeour glanced at Thicknesse with some disapproval - the former Minister, at this moment, like most people, lowered his head.

If it weren't for that untimely applause, perhaps someone would come forward and confess right now.

He took a deep breath and continued, "As for Mr. Thicknesse, I think..."

"I think Mr. Thicknesse can take over the position of Head of the Auror Office." A Ministry of Magic official spoke up. He was Gilbert Whymper from the Spells Experimentation Committee.

Scrimgeour looked at him without speaking.

Gilbert Whymper said seriously, "Mr. Scrimgeour, when you become Minister, the position of the Auror Office will be vacant and someone will be needed to take over."

"I think Kingsley is a good one." Scrimgeour spit out a name.

Kingsley Shacklebolt.

A successor who almost perfectly meets the requirements of this group of people.

Capable and young.

He is of pure-blooded birth and a member of the "Sacred Twenty-Eight Families", the eldest of the Great Britain.

The only problem…

He is a member of the Order of the Phoenix and a direct descendant of Scrimgeour.

"Kingsley is certainly good." Gilbert Whymper nodded, "But he is too young. I have to admit that he does have a lot of experience in fighting against dark wizards, but dear Rufus, what we need now is order, not resistance. We need to stabilize social order at this time."

"Although Minister Thicknesse is under the Imperius Curse, there is no doubt that he does bring us relative stability, doesn't he?"

Minister Sinix—

These two words are a bit harsh.

"I approve of Minister Thicknesse taking over the position of Head of the Auror Office." A Ministry official raised his hand in agreement.

"I agree with you, Minister Thicknesse."

Several people spoke one after another, all using the title "Minister Thicknesse".

Scrimgeour had a headache.

Is this what you have to face after becoming a minister?

I really want to be like Mr. Potter, pick up the magic wand and shoot them all.

Thicknesse stepped forward to help him out: "Don't be like this, Rufus probably has his considerations."

"We will hold the parliamentary selection for the new ministers in a few days, and then we will consider these matters."

Scrimgeour said solemnly, "That's it."

He walked out from behind the table - the idea of ​​himself becoming the master just now seemed to be just an illusion. These stubborn guys were the real masters here.

The officials gradually dispersed, and many of them chatted with Scrimgeour and showed their friendship.

It was also suggested to him that if Mr. Scrimgeour were ever considering marriage, there were several girls of the right age in the family who could be introduced.

These news made him dizzy.

but……

There are always good things today.

Not long after Scrimgeour returned to the Auror office.

A man came to the door stealthily.

"My dear Rufus." A thin, tall man came over, wearing a peacock green robe, with thick, neatly groomed hair, "I think I have something to consult you about."

Baird Nott.

Head of Portkey Office, Department of Magical Transportation.

"Mr. Nott, is there anything you want to know?" Scrimgeour watched him carefully close the door, and he already had some definite ideas in his mind.

Nott took a deep breath, "Rufus, what will you do with those Death Eaters who surrender?"

"I will deal leniently with him," Scrimgeour replied without hesitation, "but I'm afraid it will be difficult for such a man to stay at the Ministry."

"Is it difficult to stay in the Ministry of Magic?" Nott was a little surprised.

Scrimgeour nodded. “Of course, the silverfish have already gotten away with it once before. You know what I mean. I mean, more than ten years ago.”

"There was a first time, but I don't think there should be a second time."

Nott clenched his fists: "But, but this is against the rules."

"What rules?" Scrimgeour asked.

Nott hesitated and was unable to speak - of course, it was the rule of a pure-blood family.

Scrimgeour sighed and said earnestly, "Even if there are some rules, how can we explain it to Mr. Potter? He is busy with other things now. When he finishes those things, he will look back and see that there are still so many Death Eaters in the Ministry of Magic. Not to mention dealing with them, there is no punishment. What do you think Mr. Potter will do?"

Nott turned pale.

Scrimgeour went on: "I don't mind. At most I'll get a beating from Mr. Potter."

"A few broken ribs, a few days in St. Mungo's..."

"But you, I mean, what about those Death Eaters who are still at large in the Ministry of Magic?"

"Mr. Potter wouldn't mind tearing down the Ministry of Magic, catching those people, and giving them all the respect himself."

Nott's face turned paler.

"Mr. Dumbledore, he, he..."

He wanted to try to deceive himself.

Scrimgeour interrupted. "You don't think Mr. Potter can do it?"

"Or do you think Mr. Dumbledore can stop an angry Mr. Potter?"

Nott's legs gave way, and he stumbled back, bumping into the door.

"Mr. Nott, I still have some work to do." Scrimgeour coughed twice and reminded him, "After all, I don't have much time left sitting in this chair that has accompanied me for nearly ten years."

"Remember to close the door when you leave."

Nott nodded dejectedly, said "oh" in response, and left in a panic.

The death of Voldemort is good news that is refreshing and satisfying.

The Daily Prophet rejoiced.

The Quibbler also put it on the front page.

The entire wizarding world celebrated the death of Voldemort and Harry Potter, and everything was just like it had been more than ten years ago, all over again.

Somewhere in Great Britain.

In the empty underground cave, Lesnak clutched a newspaper, reading the words on it with gnashing teeth. The clanking sounds of the goblins around him forging weapons were no longer so pleasant to his ears.

It pulled out a mirror and whispered a name: "Barty Crouch."

Ripples appeared on the mirror-like surface of water.

After a while, it lit up and reflected a human head.

"Dear Ragnak, why are you contacting me at this time?" On the other side of the mirror, Barty Crouch's face became even paler, the background was hazy, wrapped in a thick fog, and he couldn't see what was around him. He looked behind the goblin cautiously.

"The Dark Lord is dead!" Ragnak almost roared, "What are you doing!"

"Our revenge..."

At this moment, Barty Crouch was sure that there was nothing behind Ragnak that he was afraid of. He relaxed a little and waved his hand: "Everything is going as planned, my dear goblin friend."

"Whether it's my father's death or this publicity."

"Don't get so excited, okay?"