After leaving the Department of Mysteries, Scrimgeour "ran into" Kingsley, who had just returned from Gringotts, in an empty corridor.
"Shacklebolt." Scrimgeour's expression was incomparably grave. "That thing is pure evil. Anyone who comes into contact with it will become unfortunate. The Department of Mysteries handled it well. I can't see how it poses any danger at the moment."
Kingsley's gaze abruptly sharpened.
He knew nothing about the Horcrux. Dumbledore had tasked him with guiding Scrimgeour to confirm the nature of that thing and whether it would bring danger.
Pure evil, no danger at present.
Scrimgeour had given his answer, and the mission had concluded smoothly. It should have been something to celebrate, yet Kingsley frowned as he watched the other man's retreating back.
Lein Hotel,
Having shed his disguise, Vincent turned his attention back to the search for Aiden Selwyn.
Over the past few days, MI6 agents had investigated every location in and around London where unnatural phenomena had occurred. Hunter had personally led the MAST-MA Unit into circles of paranormal enthusiasts, gathering a large number of recent, inexplicable urban legends.
Persistent whispers had come from a basement in the West End; an unnatural oily sheen had surfaced on a stretch of the Thames River at midnight; a patrol officer had reported smelling the fragrance of rotten flowers in an abandoned subway station...
Unfortunately, none of these locations had yielded anything suspicious after on-site investigations. Aiden Selwyn's whereabouts remained a mystery.
The Succession Society old men sent to monitor the Selwyn Family had likewise found nothing. At least on the surface, Morian and the others had shown no suspicious behavior.
The search had sunk into a quagmire, while the days continued to pass.
The morning of December 21, Ministry of Magic conference room.
The long conference table