The World Cup continues, and football fans around the world are once again in a frenzy.
People were even more enthusiastic than before the attack, especially the 230,000 wizards who remained in the camp.
"Forget your sorrows and embrace a brighter tomorrow." This is the latest slogan from the British Ministry of Magic.
Just as they had hoped, the negative impacts are gradually disappearing, and there are fewer discordant voices internationally.
The crisis was averted, but the investigation made no progress whatsoever.
Scrimgeour felt like he was sitting on pins and needles during the daily routine meetings, fearing that Fudge and other senior executives would inquire about the progress.
"Rufus, any new leads lately?"
What was bound to happen has finally happened.
Scrimgeour stood up straight. "Gentlemen, the Auror Office has investigated all the missing persons from the three days prior to the attack. After our investigation, we can basically confirm that the disappearance of these five people is unrelated to the Death Eaters."
That's it?
The higher-ups looked utterly disappointed, and Fudge's expression was extremely grim.
Everything is getting better, except for the investigation.
Scrimgeour didn't want to mess things up, but the Death Eaters had completely disappeared, and there were no leads on the person who was suspected of being kidnapped. They were going around in circles and could only return to where they started, with no direction to investigate.
His difficulties were clearly not a reason for the higher-ups to be lenient with him.
If there's no trace of Death Eaters, go find them! Dig deep and search high and low.
If the Wizarding World can't find any clues about the kidnapped person, then they'll search the Muggle world, not even letting the homeless go unchecked.
Scrimgeour, increasingly frustrated by what he heard, finally couldn't take it anymore.
He slammed his hand on the conference table, and the entire room fell silent instantly.
"Gentlemen, more than half of our Auror Office staff have already been deployed to Special Squad! Even with the nine people currently recovering from injuries, we are still unable to complete the mission you have assigned!"
Even Fudge was stunned for a while after that shout.
Umbridge, who was the first to react, also stood up and slammed his fist on the table.
Perhaps she had used too much force, for her entire face was flushed red. "Director Scrimgeour, what do you mean by that? Are you trying to shirk responsibility?"
Just as Scrimgeour was about to retort, Fudge glared at Umbridge, signaling her to sit back down obediently.
Although the fire had mostly died down, he still clenched his fists tightly. "As you all know, we have mobilized all available personnel to ensure that the World Cup can continue."
He calmed down a bit and glanced at everyone present. "It's not that I want to shirk responsibility, but an investigation like a headless fly won't do much good, no matter how many people you have."
Everyone here is shrewd and understands the principle that moderation is key.
They understood, but no one had the courage to speak out.
Now that Scrimgeour has made it crystal clear, they can no longer pretend to be ignorant.
"How about we suspend the investigation for now?"
"I think it's feasible."
"We should now focus all our attention on the World Cup."
"That's right. As long as we handle it well, there will definitely be no more discordant voices."
The higher-ups talked back and forth, finally putting Scrimgeour at ease.
After discussion, the investigation into the attack can be temporarily suspended, but in return, the Auror Office must prioritize ensuring that no further incidents occur during the World Cup.
Scrimgeour readily accepted the task.
He also suggested, "Mr. Moody is an expert in dealing with Death Eaters. We can hire him as a special advisor to investigate the attack. I believe that with his help, we will soon find a new breakthrough."
After a moment's hesitation, Fudge finally agreed.
Hiring Moody as a special advisor would certainly increase public trust in the British Ministry of Magic, even if the investigation makes no progress and only damages the reputation of this legendary Auror.
Fudge's plan was meticulously executed, but someone else had already set their sights on Moody's.
There is a winding, rugged country road on the outskirts of Surrey, a place known for its beautiful scenery and talented people, which leads to a paved road.
However, if a suitable spell is cast in the right place, a three-story building made of red bricks will appear next to the path.
Dumbledore smiled and raised the Elder Wand, waving it gently toward the small building.
All the unseen magical traps were instantly neutralized.
Soon, the door of the small building opened a crack from the inside, and a section of a magic wand extended out.
"It's me, Alastor."
Upon hearing Dumbledore's voice, Moody opened the door, still clutching his wand tightly in his hand.
His magical eyes, which could see through everything, scanned Dumbledore from bottom to top.
After confirming again, he finally put down his wand. "Albus Dumbledore, you just ruined my carefully laid trap."
Dumbledore waved the Elder Wand. "Now they are restored."
Moody turned and went inside. "Come in."
Dumbledore went inside and discovered even more magical traps. "Alastor, what are you doing?"
"Be vigilant, especially now."
In fact, Moody had already seen Dumbledore outside the door through his Magic Eye. It seems that the legendary Auror's retirement life is anything but peaceful.
Not only must he be wary of retaliation from the wizards he had previously arrested, but he must also be prepared for Death Eaters to "come knocking" at any time.
Dumbledore sat down at a worn-out round wooden table. "Alastor, you've prepared too much; you even have deadly Dark Magic traps."
Moody opened a wooden box on the table, picked up a small handful of tea leaves and put them into a slightly faded silver teapot next to him.
"Albus Dumbledore, I know that person has returned. These little traps can't kill him at all, or even cause him any trouble."
Putting aside Horcrux, Voldemort's body alone has undergone countless magical modifications, so ordinary spells are like tickling him.
Moody pointed his wand at the silver teapot, and the water inside quickly boiled.
He poured two cups of tea and then sat down.
"Albus Dumbledore, you came all this way today, did you run into some trouble?"
Dumbledore smiled and took a sip of tea. "Alastor, can't I have come here specifically to visit you?"
Moody remained expressionless, his face filled with disbelief.
"Alright." Dumbledore put down his teacup without the slightest embarrassment.
"I came here specifically to invite you to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts next semester."
After a moment's thought, Moody nodded. "Yes, the children do need to learn some self-defense techniques."
The British Wizarding World has been at peace for far too long, so long that the reappearance of the Dark Mark could cause a great upheaval, so long that people are almost losing the courage to face the Death Eaters.
If children in schools were like them, the British Wizarding World would be completely doomed.