Hogwarts’ John Wick 300: Rectifying the Ministry of Magic

300: Rectifying the Ministry of Magic

Ministry of Magic.

"Minister Crouch, here are the findings from the investigation into the Dentor incident."

Pius entered old Barty's office and placed down the report from the Azkaban inspection.

Old Barty picked up the file, his brows furrowing deeply.

"After the headcount, two Dentors are missing, and the rest have been acting restlessly."

Pius said, "During the Sirius Black incident, so Dentors suffered losses. Plus, at the ti, the Aurors were in charge of managing the Dentors, which led to their dissatisfaction."

"Things that fester in the dark," old Barty said with a grim expression.

The Ministry of Magic had granted Dentors the authority to guard Azkaban, which was essentially a form of dostication.

The Dentors fed on the happiness of the inmates, serving as a labor force for the Ministry.

But the Dentors were no longer content with that arrangent.

"Both Dumbledore and Lord Johnny Silverhand believe the Dentors are becoming a potential threat."

Old Barty looked up and asked Pius, "Has that shipnt from the Johnny Silverhand Specialty Store arrived yet?"

"It still needs so ti," Pius replied respectfully. "Lord Johnny Silverhand has already ordered the production to be expedited."

Old Barty nodded.

He needed to find an opportunity to catch all the Dentors in one net and remove them from their posts.

What he needed was a mistake—an error that would take place in Azkaban.

Though Dentors didn't have a great reputation among wizards, political matters required consideration of many different factors.

Until that batch of goods arrived, he still needed the Dentors to keep the prisoners in check.

Picking up the next docunt, his frown deepened.

"There are this many?"

The financial report was filled with dense red deficits.

Pius, having once been part of the inner workings, naturally understood so of the twists and turns.

He was sowhat relieved—if he hadn't chosen the right side, he might be under investigation himself.

He spoke tactfully, "This is all that can be found on the surface. As for more covert matters, we currently have no way of knowing."

Old Barty's face turned even darker. No wonder so areas of the Ministry had remained unrepaired—soone had been pocketing the funds.

And there were also issues with the salaries of lower-level officials—so hadn't been paid in as long as two and a half years.

"These problems must be resolved quickly. Start by issuing the back pay, and also look into the Auror and Hit Wizard assessnts."

Old Barty instructed Pius to investigate those two positions, since they constituted the ard forces of the Ministry and were naturally top priority.

But after the assessnts, they discovered quite a few people who had been muddling through.

So of them were absolutely terrible at even basic spells.

To be negligent with the ard forces was truly infuriating.

Old Barty personally gave the order for a full rectification: all Aurors were to be reassessed, and Hit Wizards had to undergo equipnt audits to account for any missing items.

With orders being issued one after another, Old Barty's reforms were swiftly implented.

In just a single month, the Ministry of Magic had taken on an entirely new face.

There were also adjustnts in personnel placents. Pius now held the position of Head of the Auror Office, and at the sa ti, bore the title of Wizengamot mber.

The educational reform at Hogwarts and the Ministry's internal restructuring progressed in parallel.

Originally, Umbridge had wanted to report the results of her "inspections" to Old Barty, but he knew full well that getting involved now would only get him splashed with filth, so he told Umbridge to handle it herself.

Just as the Ministry's reform reached a critical juncture, a troubling matter arose within the Auror Office.

"Star disciples and Death Eaters."

Looking at the incident that occurred in Knockturn Alley, Pius pressed the docunt down.

He would hand it to Old Barty when the ti was right.

...

Spinner's End—a place where many wizards resided.

The Death Eaters had attacked a branch of the Johnny Silverhand's Store, and in turn, the Star disciples retaliated.

Boom!

An explosion rang out.

A silent man wielded a wand as thick as a rolling pin in one hand, while the other hand swung an iron hook attached to a chain. He threw it out—embedding it into soone's shoulder.

The fleeing person was yanked back. The hook was enchanted with dark magic—once touched, it caused weakness and unstoppable bleeding.

The man watched silently as the other pleaded for rcy. He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and scanned it over the person.

"Not on the list. Those guys aren't that easy to find," he muttered.

While he checked, another figure stood idly atop a streetlamp outside.

The person on the street lamp was bored, with broken hair on his cheeks and wearing loose wizard robes.

He had a kind of unruly handsoness. Glancing at the silent man, he grinned and said, "Executioner Jetton. Nice to et you. I'm Gustavo Fring, a peace-loving and gentle wizard, but I insist that you call Guss."

"diator Guss," Jetton's emotionless face shifted slightly. He said in a low voice, "Weren't you on the run in Norway?"

"Unfortunately, soone offered a very generous paycheck to co back."

Guss shrugged and said, "You know I'm a peaceful man. I don't even step on flowers or grass when I walk."

"But the price was just too high. So high, in fact, that I felt bad turning them down even when they asked to go after Death Eaters." Guss had the look of a money-hungry rcenary.

Jetton grunted, "Greedy bastard."

Guss smiled with his eyes curving, "Thanks for the complint."

Jetton didn't respond.

He knew exactly what kind of dangerous person this guy—who loved to preach about peace—really was.

This man would do anything for money.

Unlike Oakeser, who took pleasure in killing, Guss valued money above all else. His desire to make a profit far outweighed any urge to kill.

He had once fled abroad as a wanted man, only to return again for the sake of money.

They called him a "diator" because he liked to try talking things out before using his fists.

But things almost always ended in violence anyway.

Guss looked eagerly at the Death Eater who had fallen to the ground groaning in pain, and asked, "Are you going to do it? If not, I can—"

Before he could finish his sentence, the executioner's baton struck down hard on the Death Eater.

Once, twice, again and again—until the head was a bloody, mangled ss.

Guss looked a little regretful and muttered, "So crude."

Jetton pretended he hadn't heard a thing. Over in Knockturn Alley, a few more unlucky folks were being dragged out.

They were Voldemort's n. After so many years, Voldemort had begun to doubt Snape's loyalty and wanted to test it.

Unfortunately, before they could test Snape's loyalty, the Death Eaters were attacked by mbers of the Star Desciples.

Not everyone made as much noise as Executioner Jetton—most quickly finished the job and disappeared without a trace.

After a while, Piers finally arrived with a group of Aurors, fashionably late.

Seeing the Death Eaters lying there, Piers remained expressionless. He waved his hand and said, "Take the bodies back to the Ministry of Magic and compare them with the previous cases."

He spoke unhurriedly, "Slow work makes fine work. No rush."

With Voldemort's return, old Barty was more than happy to see soone doing the things he couldn't do himself.

These Death Eaters were likely to beco Voldemort's allies now that he was back.

And without solid evidence, the Ministry had no legal grounds to act against them.

The appearance of the Star Disciples conveniently took care of that problem. You could even say that old Barty was happy to reap the benefits.

The more Voldemort's forces were weakened, the better it was for the Ministry of Magic.

Don't go thinking old Barty was so kind of saint—back in the day, he was the one who lifted the restrictions on using Unforgivable Curses against Death Eaters. That's how he built the reputation he has now.

By the ti the Aurors regrouped, it was as if nothing had ever happened here.

Only Voldemort would be flying into a rage at Malfoy Manor.

And the tension was already rising—before anything had even broken the surface.

anwhile, the trio who had founded the Defense Against the Dark Arts training group were running into trouble.

They needed a place where they could practice magic—sowhere hidden enough that Umbridge wouldn't find it.

Just that one requirent was enough to make the three rack their brains.

There were plenty of empty rooms in Hogwarts, but none that truly t the conditions.

Unless they had a place like the Constellation Society's, there was no way they could guarantee Umbridge wouldn't co sniffing around.

Thinking of this, Harry was deeply troubled.

As one of the initiators, he also had to serve as the group's figurehead.

The responsibility for all of this fell squarely on his shoulders.

And then there was Quidditch practice, along with academic work—each task pressing down on him without relief.

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