On the eighteenth of July, Richard arrived at the Ministry of Magic around noon, accompanied by Nymphadora. Instead of the usual elderly wizard at the entrance, two solidly built men in dark navy robes of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement stood guard. There was no wand-weighing; instead, every visitor was subjected to a thorough search.
Richie was mildly surprised by the heightened security, but he accepted it without much thought. These wizards were still a far cry from Her Majesty's security detail. They did not even ask him to remove his belt—merely passed some sort of artifact resembling an extendable antenna along his body before allowing him inside.
After making his way through countless checkpoints, Richard finally reached the Minister's office. Nymphadora remained in the secretary's reception room, through which access to the Minister's sanctum was gained.
It was a comfortable rectangular office. Opposite the entrance stood a fireplace, its stone carved with a horizontally stretched figure eight surrounded by an intricate pattern of symbols resembling runes. Above the mantel there was nothing particularly remarkable save for a mirror shaped like an elongated half-oval. At the center of the room stood a large antique round table engraved with the Ministry's emblem: a circle bearing an enormous black letter M in its center. The middle of the emblem was coated in yellow lacquer, while a broad black ring around the edge bore the words MINISTRY OF MAGIC in gold lettering.
The office also contained a writing desk—a large, massive piece of antique craftsmanship, almost identical to the one in Grosvenor Senior's study at Eaton Hall. The chair behind it suited the importance of its occupant: luxurious and upholstered in burgundy leather.
A slightly worn burgundy carpet muffled every footstep, while a set of elaborate mirrors in one corner of the office rotated aimlessly around their own axes. Yet the instant Richard stepped onto the carpet, they ceased spinning.
Millicent Bagnold looked up from a stack of parchments. Today she wore a light green dress with bare shoulders and a plunging neckline. The newly appointed Minister looked exhausted. Dark circles beneath her eyes and pale skin spoke eloquently of a sleepless night.
"Richard, it's you," the Minister said wearily.
"Good afternoon, Millicent." Grosvenor gave her a courteous bow. "I hope I'm not interrupting."
"No, no." Bagnold shook her head tiredly. "Please, have a seat."
"Has something happened?" Richard asked politely. "I don't mean any offense—you always look magnificent—but just now I'd strongly recommend seeing a Healer."
"A sleepless night..." the Minister sighed. She straightened her back with an audible crack before leaning against the chair. "Ah, my back's gone stiff... We've had an emergency."
Seated comfortably in the visitor's chair, Richard immediately became alert. His first thought was of the wizard threatening the planet.
"What happened?" he asked anxiously.
"Azkaban breakout," Bagnold replied. "A dangerous wizard has escaped—Sirius Black."
Richie narrowed his eyes.
"Ma'am, would that happen to be the same Black who was Riddle's closest supporter?"
"The very same..." A heavy sigh escaped the Minister's lips.
"How did that happen?" Richie asked in bewilderment. "I'd always heard escaping Azkaban was considered impossible."
"Black is a powerful wizard," the Minister answered.
"So you don't know," Richard concluded. "What is known?"
"The escape took place the day before yesterday," Bagnold said. "We're trying to keep it under wraps for the time being, though I sincerely doubt we'll manage for much longer. Albus Dumbledore has already been here asking what I intend to do about it."
"And how does he know about the escape?" Richie asked suspiciously.
"Richard..." Millicent squared her shoulders, then tried to settle more comfortably into the back of her chair. Another loud crack came from her spine. "Dumbledore has spies everywhere—in the Ministry, the Wizengamot, the Auror Office, even among the wizarding underworld. Never underestimate him."
"I see." Richie thoughtfully stroked his chin. "Since no one has ever escaped Azkaban before, I'd assume Black had help. If that's the case, either someone highly placed was involved, or the prison guards were bribed."
The Minister fell into deep thought. Closing her eyes, she remained silent for a while before studying Richard intently.
"That theory was raised within the DMLE. We can rule out the guards. Every member of Azkaban's staff was questioned under Veritaserum after the prisoner escaped. But a high-ranking official..."
"You have someone in mind?" Richard asked.
Millicent's red hair had become disheveled against the back of her chair. Frowning, she leaned forward to smooth it down, but another sharp crack from her back made her abandon the effort and settle comfortably into her seat once more.
"I believe Scrimgeour is behind it," the Minister continued, "but there's no evidence whatsoever."
"Why him?" Richard asked, raising an eyebrow. "Let's assume he had a motive—losing the election for Minister. But a motive alone isn't enough."
"Scrimgeour wanted to become Minister," Bagnold continued. "He would have, if I hadn't returned to politics. My comeback was a bitter disappointment for him. If he can get rid of me, he'll have every chance of becoming the next Minister for Magic. Isn't that motive enough? Tarnish my reputation... I'd barely taken office before the British wizarding community descended into chaos. The first-ever escape from Azkaban! That alone could be turned into a scandal of unprecedented proportions."
"In that case, he certainly had a strong motive," Grosvenor agreed.
"And not just the motive—the opportunity as well!" Bagnold declared, raising a finger. "On Friday the thirteenth, Scrimgeour was still serving as Acting Minister. That day he made his annual inspection of Azkaban. On the sixteenth, the prison staff discovered they were missing a prisoner."
"You think the two are connected?" Richie asked thoughtfully.
"I do, Richard." Bagnold let out a long sigh. "You see, for centuries Azkaban has operated in such a way that the human guards don't need to patrol it every day. The Dementors constantly drift through the prison corridors, feeding on the prisoners' magical strength and trapping their minds in endless nightmares. The inmates simply aren't capable of escaping—they're completely consumed by their fears. The guards only conduct an inspection twice a week."
"What about food?" Richard asked. "Somebody has to feed the prisoners."
"The meals are duplicated by the guards and delivered directly into the cells by magic," the Minister explained.
"Millicent, you said Scrimgeour's involvement would be impossible to prove..."
"Precisely." Bagnold nodded. "Scrimgeour visited Azkaban accompanied by the Senior Assistant to the Minister, Dolores Umbridge, and the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Amelia Bones. The prison governor was there as well, along with the Aurors assigned to the Minister's security detail."
"So there was an entire crowd present, which means almost anyone could be a suspect," the young Earl concluded. "I take it everyone was questioned?"
"Yes. They were questioned—but the senior officials weren't given Veritaserum."
"Could someone have passed something to Sirius Black during the inspection?" Richie asked.
(End of Chapter)
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