Ministry of Magic, Auror Office.
Scrimgeour stood at the door, gazed at the empty office, then walked expressionlessly to his desk. After pulling out his chair and sitting down, he began reading the newspaper in his hand.
Scrimgeour had a simple assessment of the Daily Prophet's front-page headline that day: "The struggles of the dying."
Although Fudge was desperately trying to clear his own name through the Daily Prophet, he still could not overcome the other newspapers and the damning evidence they presented.
The calls for Fudge to step down were growing louder throughout the wizarding world. Scrimgeour knew some of them stemmed from attacks by Fudge's political enemies, but Fudge truly had performed terribly over the past year. Not only had he turned the Ministry of Magic into a laughingstock, he had also caused other wizards to lose confidence in him.
Putting down the Daily Prophet, he continued reading the other papers.
Most newspapers had their own focus. One of them concentrated on Albert taking on the Ministry's Aurors alone, portraying him as the next Dumbledore.
"The next Dumbledore?"
Scrimgeour put down the paper, looked around the empty Auror Office, and fell briefly silent.
Just then, hurried footsteps sounded outside, and someone soon knocked on the office door.
"Come in," Scrimgeour said.
"Chief, St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries notified us that the Hogwarts professors have just sent the Aurors to the hospital." The witch furtively watched Scrimgeour's expression and lowered her voice. "The Aurors are receiving restorative treatment. They're only a little weak and should recover in about two days."
"I understand."
Scrimgeour rose and headed out. He intended to visit those unfortunate men at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries in person.
The moment he arrived at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies