Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle.

Chapter 327 Ministry of Magic's Reaction

London, Ministry of Magic.

Following the prison break, the minister's office was requisitioned as a temporary command center.

At this moment, the two powerful officials of the Ministry of Magic, Burns and Crouch, sat facing each other across their desks, reviewing documents sent back from various coastal cities.

Ms. Burns leaned back in her chair, her eyes revealing undisguised fatigue. Crouch frowned slightly, while several assistants silently organized and passed on documents without uttering a word.

The silence lasted for a long time, with only the sound of parchment turning in the room.

The atmosphere was particularly heavy. Since Fudge and Umbridge were dismissed and expelled, they had been heroes of the wizarding world. Under Ms. Burns' leadership, the Ministry of Magic was moving in a positive direction, pushing for wrongful conviction trials, delivering fair and convincing sentences, and completely erasing the negative impression brought about by Black's escape.

And now, the new prisoner Peter has once again made an incredible escape.

How will the public evaluate the Ministry of Magic and discuss these officials?

“This is not our fault. The escort plan was meticulous and thorough. No one could have foreseen such an unexpected incident,” Crouch said softly. “We can notify the newspapers and keep this a secret for now.”

The silence in the office was broken as the assistants exchanged glances.

The executive officers made their opposition clear.

Bertha Jorkins, the assistant witch of the International Affairs Cooperation Division, glared back without hesitation: Mr. Crouch is right, of course!
“We dismissed Fudge and Umbridge before, and now we’re going to follow their despicable path?” Ms. Burns shook her head, her voice slightly weary, but it drowned out the chatter in the office.

“If such actions can prevent public panic and maintain stability in the wizarding world, I do not object to them.” Crouch’s face showed no particular expression.

“The Batty I used to know wasn’t like this. Back then, you were principled and never compromised,” Ms. Burns said with some emotion. “Batty, you’ve gotten old.”

"Perhaps..." Crouch didn't try to persuade him further.

The previous office manager has been dismissed, but the chair will not remain vacant forever. The staff are discussing the new ministerial election, and there are only a few promising candidates, with Amelia Bones holding a clear advantage.

But Barty Crouch wasn't even on the shortlist.

Just then, a fluorescent green flame burst from the fireplace, licking the red bricks on the outside of the fireplace. The wizards in the office immediately looked up at the wizard who had just returned from Azkaban.

The Auror Office Director, who was also in charge of this escort operation, Scrimgeour's black robes were still covered in the cold moisture of Azkaban. Suddenly, he stepped into the warm office, and fine water droplets condensed on his hard-soled leather boots. He left wet footprints on the Ministry of Magic insignia on the wool carpet.

"The prison Aurors only found the rat's tail, which had been crushed into a pulp. The Dementors found nothing. Logically speaking, no emotion should escape their perception. Peter must have escaped in rat form."

Scrimgeour sat down in an empty seat, briefly explained the intelligence on Azkaban, and then eagerly asked, "Do you have any news on your side?"

“Magic is not omnipotent, Rufus. Britain is an island nation surrounded by the sea, with a coastline of thousands of miles. We cannot possibly search every inch of its land.”

Ms. Burns shook her head and picked up the soon-to-be-issued arrest warrant from the table, which featured a short, stout bust of Peter: "Especially when the prisoner is a rat."

Silence fell again in the office, broken only by the crackling of the burning wood in the fireplace.

"What exactly happened during the transport? I mean, Peter didn't have a wand, and he was bound by the Stunning Charm and Binding Charm, so how could he suddenly escape?"

Crouch paused for a moment, then asked, “The description in the report isn’t clear enough, Rufus. I’d like to hear the details of what you saw.”

Scrimgeour nodded, picked up the cold tea on the table, and took a sip:
"The first half of the escort went smoothly. Alastor was very cautious. We had already escorted Peter to the outside of the cell, and just as we were about to take him in, he suddenly regained consciousness, broke free of the spell, and activated Animagus..."

"The narrow, dimly lit passageways of the fortress were too quick for the Aurors to react. Only Alastor managed to cast the warning spell, but the rat was incredibly agile, weaving through the cracks in the walls and escaping before the fortress could be sealed."

The assistants' eyes were filled with astonishment as they stood by the wall exchanging glances.

"According to Azkaban's subsequent investigation, Peter's route was almost a straight line, without taking even an inch of detour, and he seemed to be very familiar with the terrain of Azkaban."

Scringer paused. "We suspect someone helped him."

"Internal response?"

"Yes, an inside man!"

Scrimgeour said in a low voice, "But only a very few wizards knew about the entire escort plan, and the Aurors who participated in the escort were carefully selected. It was impossible for them to have any connection with Peter or any other Death Eaters. The subsequent investigation also ruled out their suspicion."

"Who could it be? It can't be Dumbledore or Professor Levent, can it?"

Bertha Jorkins scratched her head, a thought running through her mind.

She suddenly noticed that the temperature around her had dropped. Looking up, she saw that everyone in the office was staring at her, with Crouch and Mr. Scrimgeour's eyes filled with coldness.

"Oops……"

Johansson pursed her lips, on the verge of tears, and voiced her innermost thoughts.

The officials interrupted and rambled on during the conversation, appearing foolish and silly, but no one in the office reprimanded Bertha Joggins.

This witch has been working at the Ministry of Magic for over a decade. In the first few years after graduation, her performance was highly praised by her colleagues. She was hardworking, brave, and responsible. Although she was occasionally a bit stubborn, it couldn't overshadow her strengths.

Her colleagues all liked to befriend Jorkins, praising the witch's bright future and saying she would become someone like Ms. Burns.

But the situation soon changed.

It was as if a dark wizard had cast a vicious curse on Johansson's brilliant mind. At first, she only experienced a decline in memory and became forgetful at work. Later, the situation worsened, and her intelligence rapidly diminished. She was often lost in thought, absent-minded, and slow to react.

He was even a little slow-witted.

Other departments and offices were unwilling to take in such a witch, but only the kind-hearted Mr. Crouch stepped forward and allowed Jorkins to stay by his side as an assistant to handle some simple document receiving and sorting work.

No one paid any attention to her ramblings.

Although Dumbledore and Professor Levent were involved in devising the escort plan, they were also the wizards who captured Peter, and had absolutely no reason to help Peter escape from prison.

The poor assistant, Johansson, kept her head down like a quail. Crouch shook his head slightly at her, indicating that she should go back to her office and wait.

The attitude wasn't exactly friendly, but it was mild enough. Scrinker remained noncommittal, and the assistants kept silent.

“I don’t believe Peter just escaped like that. Azkaban is hundreds of miles from the nearest coastal city. A rat could never swim there like a black dog.”

Ms. Burns tapped the wanted poster on the table: "Rufus, send more Aurors to search for him. Barty, notify the Ministries of Magic in the neighboring North Sea countries of Norway, Belgium, and Denmark, and have them assist in patrolling the coastlines."

Her tone was emotionless, and her index finger tapped lightly on the table. She didn't deliberately give the impression of issuing orders, but she naturally exuded the decisiveness of a minister. As a strong candidate for minister, she had already begun to exercise this authority.

Crouch's eyes flashed with a complex expression, as if he were reminiscing or feeling sad, but he quickly composed himself, lowering his eyes to write down the minister's order.

"Have the newspapers and the media report this news, without any concealment or inflammatory content. Dispel the public's panic and clearly explain Peter's situation: he doesn't have a wand; he can only activate his Animagus to become a rat, a rat missing a toe and tail..."

Ms. Burns calmly said, "Tell the wizarding world that the Ministry of Magic is doing everything in its power to capture him."

……

In the evening, the Department of International Cooperation Affairs.

On the fifth basement level of the Ministry of Magic, Crouch sat in his office, working on the documents on his desk.

Half an hour had passed since the scheduled end of the workday, but the Ministry of Magic was still brightly lit. Tonight was likely to be a sleepless night, with the number of people working overtime breaking records since the end of the Wizarding Wars. All the staff of the Ministry of Magic were dealing with Peter's prison break.

Will the Death Eater who has deceived the wizarding world for twelve years be caught after a struggle, continue to escape legal judgment, or simply perish in the waves of the North Sea?
Crouch didn't really care. Security in Azkaban wasn't all that great, after all, there was a Death Eater who had escaped from his home and hadn't been discovered by the Aurors or Dementors yet.

Some people leave Azkaban only to find themselves trapped in even deeper prisons.

He is now more focused on two projects that the International Affairs Cooperation Division is preparing: the Quidditch World Cup event schedule and the specific procedures for restarting the Fire Cup Tournament.

After finishing the documents on his desk, he leaned back in his chair, sat alone in his office for a while, wrote a note, folded it into a paper airplane, and threw it out.

"Bertha, find the information the Sports Department sent me this morning and give it to me."

After a short wait, Bertha pushed open the door and poked her head in from outside: "Sir, did you ask me to look for some information earlier?"

“Yes, the information came in this morning.” Crouch sighed, a hint of guilt flashing in his eyes.

"Great! I thought I had remembered it wrong again!"

Bertha patted her chest and jumped into the office with delight, handing over the documents as she said, "Sir, after I'm done with this busy period, could I take a long leave?"

"What do you need a long leave for?" Crouch asked.

“I’m going to Albania to visit my aunt!” Bertha explained lightly. “Her birthday is coming up soon, I can’t remember if it’s ninety-three or ninety-seven, but she thinks she’s going to die and wants me to come see her one last time.”

Crouch frowned: "Given your current condition, do you think your family would feel comfortable letting you travel abroad alone?"

“Oh, it’s alright!” Bertha retorted. “Mr. Crouch, I know you take good care of me, but I’m an adult wizard now. I can’t rely on your care forever. I have to try to handle some difficult things on my own!”

Crouch paused for a moment: "The Ministry of Magic offers ample leave for family visits, but I have one condition."

“I have a bad feeling…” Bertha became alert.

"The Quidditch World Cup is coming soon, and tourists from many countries will be coming to watch the games. I plan to send you to the Department of Sports to help out. Do your job well, and if you don't make any mistakes in the next few months, I will approve your family visit leave."

"I guarantee the mission will be a complete success!" Bertha smiled brightly.

“I don’t have much hope for this…” Crouch held up the documents in his hand. “I told you to find the sports department’s documents, this one is from the transportation department.”

Bertha's smile froze instantly.

……

The northeastern edge of the Atlantic Ocean, the Azkaban Sea.

Within an hour, a cold fog enveloped the entire sea area, and dark clouds above slowly expanded and occupied the sky. Torrential rain mixed with hail poured down, the waves surged, the sea waves rolled up ice shards, and the howling wind created a terrifying force.

Tiny mice were swirling in the surging waves, their limbs flailing about, a sight reminiscent of a year ago.

About a year ago, Azkaban did not chase the rats; he left on a plank, carrying his wand, and magic propelled the plank forward. He was far from being in such a sorry state as he is now.

The mouse surfaced and took a deep breath of the cold air.

The torrential rain and dark clouds, with black cloaks occasionally flitting through the clouds and fog, caused the temperature in this sea area to drop continuously.

Insect Tail stared at the Dementors, a chill running down its spine.

The rat's limbs were completely unsuitable for swimming. Even the slightest waves and undercurrents could carry it back. It struggled to float for half an hour but still couldn't swim out of Azkaban's waters.

He realized with despair that this area of ​​the sea was within the patrol range of the Dementors, and for a long time to come, he would be unable to transform back into a human body and could only move around using the limbs of a rat.

A hailstone, falling from who knows where, struck the rat squarely on the head, causing him to stumble and sink into the water. The wound where his tail had been severed tore open, and blood gushed out. The cold, wet seawater seeped into the wound, and the intense pain left his mind blank for several seconds before he came to his senses.

Worm Tail trembled involuntarily as he saw a group of strangely shaped fish following behind him.

The fish has sharp spines along its spine, clearly indicating that it is a carnivorous fish. They are attracted by the smell of blood seeping from the tail wound and follow it with ill intent, waiting for the prey to exhaust itself so they can enjoy this food that is not commonly found in the sea.

The insect tail saw them baring their teeth, their black lips revealing twisted, menacing teeth, and the fear of death surged from the depths of its mind.

Hailstones fell on the sea, and another heavy bombardment hit the insect tail's head. Before losing consciousness, fragmented images flashed before his eyes. He seemed to be back on that street thirteen years ago, where a magical explosion ignited the methane gas in the underground pipes, and the shockwave overturned the entire street.

When they came to their senses, the strange fish had already caught up, their sharp teeth piercing their waists and abdomens, and blood spurted from the rats' bodies, staining the already fishy-smelling seawater red.

He vaguely guessed what was going to happen; the cruel and tragic fantasy was about to become reality. His breathing quickened, and more seawater choked into his lungs. His missing toe forelimb tried to struggle, but he couldn't lift it.

The insect's tail and eyes are bloodshot, and its limbs are trembling slightly; these are symptoms of exhaustion and hypothermia.

(End of this chapter)