St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries is an old-fashioned, six-story red brick building with a sign that reads "Qingjin Department Store".
No matter when, the shop door always has a sign that says "Closed for Renovation". The wizard only needs to explain his purpose to an ugly doll in front of the window, and it will nod slightly and wave its joined fingers to indicate that he can go in.
Beyond the glass window lies the hospital's reception area, where you can see all sorts of patients suffering from bizarre magical injuries and illnesses, visitors inquiring about room numbers and floors, and healers in dark green robes busily moving through the crowd.
The reception area was different tonight, because the Auror had taken up all the hospital beds, and it was packed with patients who had come to see a doctor.
Similar to the hustle and bustle downstairs, the other floors of the hospital were exceptionally busy.
Almost all the Auror in Britain were seriously injured, all by the same kind of Dark Magic. The healers had no time to think about whether a wizarding war had broken out; they were busy shuttling back and forth between the wards.
On the second floor, in the Creature-Induced Injuries Department, the lead healer, Hiberkrat Smesik, carried a freshly prepared medicine and hurried up to the sixth floor.
The visitor tea room and shops here are closed during the day; the ward now belongs to the three most seriously injured Auror, Fudge, Kingsley, Barty Crouch, and Bagman.
Smysik pushed open the door to the visitor's room, where several healers were removing the remaining Dark Magic from three Auror.
"The medicine is ready!"
Over at the shop, Bagman, Kingsley, and Barty Crouch, who had just completed their treatment, lay quietly on separate beds.
The other empty bed belongs to Fudge, who had woken up earlier.
This was not the first time he had encountered Dark Magic, but it was the first time he had witnessed the Dark Magic of the Death Eaters.
The mad expression on Luke Wood's face when he cast the Chaos Blood Ash Curse filled him with fear, making him realize that he was just as weak as most ordinary wizards.
Death Eaters are a bunch of lunatics who will stop at nothing to achieve their goals, even their most precious lives.
Fudge walked up to the rooftop alone. The London evening breeze in March was a bit chilly, and he felt a bone-chilling cold as he was feeling weak.
His body was trembling violently, as if he were thinking of Luke Wood.
His pupils, which were constantly shrinking to pinpoints, were filled with fanatical worship of Voldemort. Even though his blood vessels were bulging and about to burst through his skin, and half of his face was ruined, Luke Wood showed no fear.
"They're just some damned remnants..."
Fudge gritted his teeth and stopped trembling.
Voldemort is dead, killed by the Killing Curse that Harry Potter deflected.
These damned Death Eaters remnants are just trying to create some terrorist attacks to remind wizards of that terrible war.
"He's dead! He's dead!"
Fudge's mind kept replaying evidence that Voldemort was still alive.
Two years ago, Quirrell was possessed and used the Imperius Curse to control the Acromantula to attack the castle and delay Dumbledore in an attempt to obtain the Sorcerer's Stone to resurrect himself.
No! Quirrell is an evil dark wizard. He wasn't possessed at all. All his actions were his own choices, and had nothing to do with anyone else.
Two years ago, Lockhart brought a diary into the castle, and the 16-year-old Voldemort briefly gained a physical form after absorbing the life force of the students.
That's still not right! No wizard can split their own soul, and even if they could, decades would be enough for the soul to completely dissipate.
Last year, Peter Pettigrew was quietly rescued from the heavily guarded St. Mungo's's Magical Injury before his execution, and Luke Wood, who was impersonating him to carry out the execution, was also rescued during the riots caused by the Dark Mark.
No! No! No! Karkaroff's list of Death Eaters was incomplete. He may not have known all of Death Eaters, and there must have been a few people missing from the list.
This year...
Fudge's mind kept rejecting one piece of evidence after another.
In his view, all of this so-called evidence was fake, fabricated by Dumbledore to demonstrate his presence and to secure the position of Minister of British Ministry of Magic.
Human hearts are unpredictable. So what if Dumbledore refused him repeatedly before? Who can guarantee that he doesn't have this idea now?
"Minister Fudge!" Umbridge's shrill voice rang out from behind.
With a worried look on her face, she stepped forward to help Fudge, saying, "We've finally found you. What you need now is to rest."
Fudge let her help him down the stairs. "What's the situation outside?"
Umbridge wore an extremely obsequious expression. "Thanks to the Minister's reliable experience, we guided public opinion through the official newspapers immediately. The outside world will only think that this was an accidental explosion caused by the Auror losing control of the Dark Magic items they had confiscated."
Fudge smiled and nodded, his eyes deep and sharp. "Very good. Continue to guide public opinion, but Rufus will ultimately stay in the department. Don't push all the blame onto him."
Umbridge shuddered, cold sweat seeping from his back.
"Understood, Your Excellency! I will certainly guide public opinion properly!"
Anyone with eyes could see from her little actions that Fudge was only physically weak, not mentally devastated.
The fifth floor of the castle,
Owl Court Club Room.
Vincent is training Harry's reaction speed in the ring.
Specifically, Vincent attacks, Harry dodges.
In a corner of the Club Room, Hermione was giving her friends more details about what happened last night.
To peel off the face of a former professional Quidditch player and stick it on his own, then cruelly torture him until he's reduced to a skeleton— Luke Wood, this Death Eaters's practically dead, is truly a pervert.
Didn't they have a past relationship? Are you sure there's no deep-seated hatred between them?
Hermione shook her head, indicating she didn't know.
"I guess he's been in Azkaban too long," Fred said, a chill creeping down his spine.
George couldn't laugh either. "They've gone so far as to self-destruct. These Death Eaters are all more twisted than the last."
To take a recent example, Peter Pettigrew is still at large, used the Blasting Curse to blow up half Muggle street and kill 13 innocent Muggle in order to escape. In the end, he cut off a finger and turned into a rat to frame Sirius Black, hiding for 12 years.
Given Voldemort's twisted personality, it's likely that any normal person who joins the Death Eaters would soon become a twisted monster as well.
Cedric suddenly felt a chill on the back of his neck, as if someone had breathed on him.
He suddenly jolted awake, and everyone couldn't help but laugh at his reaction.
Just as he was wondering what was going on, Qiu's voice came from behind him. "Cedric, what are you two talking about?"
Cedric was completely stunned, never expecting that Qiu had such a devilish side.
Hermione and Daphne very tactfully pulled the twins to another empty table next door.
Don't let Cedric's thick eyebrows and big eyes fool you; he looks like an honest man. In fact, he started making advances towards Qiu not long after they left.