What you haven't gained, how can you let go?
Power.
It was always the sweetest poison.
The news of the Magic Ring's appearance drew every dark wizard in England. One after another, they Apparated to London.
Meanwhile, as the Minister of Magic responsible for protecting the British wizarding world, Cornelius Fudge was run off his feet.
Watching the passersby on the street, Old Fudge's eyes were bloodshot. Everyone looked like a dangerous criminal to him.
"Minister, we've finished investigating. The cause of the murders was—"
The Ministry of Magic agent hurried up beside his boss with a notebook in hand, but before he could finish his report, Old Fudge impatiently cut him off.
"No need. It was because of Soren, wasn't it?"
Soren, the dark wizard who had suddenly appeared on his turf—who else could it be?
Fudge narrowed his eyes, looking every bit like a round-faced hyena whose territory had been invaded.
Without that damned man backing them, what kind of trouble could the rats in Knockturn Alley possibly cause?
Murder.
How long had it been since they'd dared to act so brazenly?
The Ministry of Magic had to act and completely stamp out this evil force before it could take root.
"Minister, so far there's no evidence linking this incident to Soren.
"According to witnesses, the group of dead dark wizards apparently tried to steal something, but they weren't strong enough and ended up being killed instead.
"Oh, and here's a magical portrait of the culprit, drawn from the witnesses' accounts."
The agent felt awkward as his boss analyzed the situation at length without seeming to get anywhere. But he knew how to handle things: he took out a magical portrait and smoothly changed the subject.
"Ahem. Let me see."
Fudge's old face reddened. He coughed a few