Chapter 1294 The insidious old bastard Deng

Scrimgeour found Kingsley near the passage to the underground vault. Kingsley was standing against the wall, his gaze fixed on a group of inefficient goblin repairmen in the distance, who were occasionally muttering curses to each other.

“Shakel,” Scrinker stepped forward. “I’m here.”

Kingsley turned his head, his tense expression relaxing slightly. "Can you feel it? The air here is much worse than up up."

Scrimgeour looked at the goblin repair crew. "The goblins are like powder kegs. What did Fudge do besides making this place even worse?"

Kingsley's lips twitched slightly. "He did something that made the goblins furious, but reassured some people."

He cleared out some of the more difficult items overnight and sent them directly to the ministry's highest-level storage facility.

Could it be that dirty thing?

Scrimgeour frowned. "No wonder they're acting like their life savings have been stolen. What is Fudge trying to hide by risking angering the fairies?"

Kingsley looked at him with a complicated expression, hesitated for a long time before shaking his head, "I didn't have time to confirm, but I heard there was an accident during the transport and several employees were injured. That thing must be very dangerous."

So much time has passed, and they still haven't been able to confirm whether that dirty thing was a Horcrux. The Ministry of Magic's efficiency in cleaning up the scene is really low.

Scrimgeour remained silent, his gaze sweeping over the busy but resentful fairy repair crew as they gradually walked away.

He understood Kingsley's concerns. The items could be verified under the pretext of an investigation at Gringotts, but it was a different story once they were transferred to the Ministry of Magic's highest-level storage facility. Even Dumbledore probably wouldn't be able to get close enough to access them, let alone verify them.

“So,” Scrimgeour’s voice was laced with cold sarcasm, “we now have an unknown dangerous item locked in the Ministry of Magic’s safe, several staff members injured as a result, a group of furious goblins, and a minister who would do anything for the sake of face.”

He looked at Kingsley, “And we don’t know what’s in that box, maybe explosives, maybe something worse.”

Kingsley neither admitted nor denied it, saying, "Rufus, sometimes it is more important to know what danger is than to merely know that it is dangerous."

He rubbed his temples wearily. "Now, we're even being deprived of the chance to confirm."

Scrinker's eyebrows lifted slightly.

Surprisingly, Kingsley, with his thick eyebrows and big eyes, would also set a trap, and even set a trap for his own boss.

Old Deng is really cunning. Since he couldn't take action himself, he had Kingsley exploit Scrimgeour's sense of responsibility. If he were standing here, he would never have stood idly by and ignored a potential threat.

This is understandable, though, since it concerns a Horcrux; being schemed against is just that—scheming.

Scrimgeour slammed his fist on the rough wall, feigning extreme anger, "Damn Fudge!"

Kingsley's face lit up with joy, but then quickly filled with helplessness. "Rufus, don't be impulsive. You know the rules of the Department of Mysteries. Once the thing goes inside, we..."

Scrimgeour couldn't help but roll his eyes inwardly.

With all this guidance and hints, all he needs is a higher level of access, which he happens to have right now.

“I’d like to see,” Scrimgeour turned around, “whether the rules of the Department of Mysteries can stop me.”

Under Kingsley's astonished gaze, he strode back along the exit of the passage he had come from, exuding a terrifying aura as if he were about to crush everything.

Ministry of Magic, Department of Mysteries entrance.

As you pass through an unassuming black door, the world falls silent.

Unlike other noisy and bustling areas, there is only eternal silence here, and even time flows more slowly.

Scrimgeour's gaze swept over the identical black doors, each leading to an unknown destination.

His footsteps echoed clearly on the floor, and somewhat unexpectedly, he had not encountered any obstacles until now.

"Director Scrinker, this area is off-limits."

Scrimgeour turned around and saw a figure that seemed to have detached from the wall.

This was an elderly, silent man, dressed in a dark gray robe, with no expression on his face and empty eyes.

Scrimgeour turned to face him. “I have received reports that unidentified high-risk items transferred from Gringotts are stored here, and I have the authority to confirm whether their sealed status poses any new security risks.”

The Silent Man did not react, but simply repeated the regulations in a stiff tone: "This item is under the direct jurisdiction of the Department of Mysteries, and the sealing procedure meets the highest standards, requiring no external evaluation."

“Is that so?” Scrimgeour slowly walked toward him, each step exuding an oppressive aura. “Then please explain to me why Fudge would rather offend the goblins than shove it here overnight like a dirty sock? And why did an accident happen during its transport?”

A very subtle ripple appeared in the silent man's empty eyes.

After a standoff lasting nearly a minute, another, older, silent figure appeared, and the two exchanged a brief glance.

"You may observe from afar, that's all." The first Silent One turned to point to a black door. "You may not approach within ten feet, you may not use any detection magic, and you may not stay for more than two minutes. That's our bottom line."

Scrimgeour strode over and forcefully pushed open the seemingly heavy black door.

This is a hemispherical stone chamber, with ancient runes carved on the walls that constantly shimmer with a faint light.

The stone chamber had no obvious light source; the light seemed to come from the stone itself, giving it a pale, grayish-white appearance.

In the very center, on a black stone platform, sits a worn-out wooden box. The box is undecorated and looks quite ordinary, shrouded in layers of semi-transparent magical barriers.

Standing at the edge of the ten-foot cordon, Scrimgeour sensed nothing amiss. He stared intently at the wooden crate, seemingly trying to confirm it with his own eyes.

When the two minutes were up, the silent person outside the door made a gesture that said "please leave".

Scrimgeour was slightly disappointed; with such tight security, it was impossible to confirm whether the contents of the wooden box were Horcruxes or not.

The instant he turned around, he sensed an extremely faint, almost nonexistent, evil aura.

Scrimgeour turned around abruptly, staring intently at the crack in the wooden crate.

If he wasn't mistaken, something must have just shrunk back in.

"Director Scrinker, it's time."

"I'm leaving now." Scrimgeour walked out of the stone chamber with a heavy expression.

Although it was only for a brief moment, he was certain that the contents of the wooden box were extremely evil, as malicious as the soul fragments residing in the Horcruxes.

The answer is obvious: even if this filthy thing isn't one of Voldemort's two remaining Horcruxes, it's still a dangerous object of equal evil.

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