Scrimgeour found Kingsley near the passage leading to the underground vaults. He was standing against a wall, watching a team of inefficient goblin repairmen in the distance as they occasionally muttered curses at one another.
"Shacklebolt." Scrimgeour stepped forward. "I'm here."
Kingsley turned around, and the tension on his face eased slightly. "Can you feel it? The air down here is much worse than it is above."
Scrimgeour looked toward the goblin repair crew. "The goblins are like powder kegs. Besides blowing this place up even worse, what else did Fudge do?"
The corner of Kingsley's mouth twitched. "He did something that drove the goblins mad, but put some people at ease.
"He had some difficult items removed overnight and sent directly to the Ministry's highest-level storage site."
Could it be that filthy thing?
Scrimgeour frowned. "No wonder they look like their life savings were stolen. What exactly is Fudge trying to hide, if he is willing to provoke the goblins like this?"
Kingsley looked at him with a complicated expression. After hesitating for a long time, he shook his head. "I didn't have time to confirm it. Apparently, there was an accident during transport, and several employees were injured. That thing must be dangerous."
After all this time, they still had not managed to confirm whether that filthy thing was a Horcrux. The Ministry of Magic's efficiency in clearing a scene really was atrocious.
Scrimgeour fell silent, his gaze sweeping over the busy yet resentful goblin repair crew as they gradually disappeared into the distance.
He understood Kingsley's concerns. While the item had been at Gringotts, they could still verify it under the pretext of an investigation. But once it had been moved to the Ministry's highest-level storage site, things were different. Even Dumbledore probably could not get close