"Albert, there are rather a lot of Purebloods gathered in that Muggle residence, along with their bodyguards and servants. More may come later," the fat man said worriedly. "If we go in with only the people we have to encircle and wipe them out... Of course, I'm not worried we'll fail, but with too few hands, I'm afraid some of them may inevitably escape... if any of them have Flying Broomsticks with them..."
Wolf Mom glanced at her team members. "We can't mobilize the Aurors in the Ministry. Never mind anyone else—inside the Ministry of Magic, it's hard for the Aurors' movements to get past that old lion, Scrimgeour. Once he finds out, he'll inform the Purebloods who support him."
"You know that right now, we don't actually have evidence to accuse some people of anything... Father and Lenn mean to capture them first, at least to nail down testimony and form a chain of evidence." Albert braced both hands on the long table. As he spoke, his face turned as cold and rigid as wax. "I don't like it, and I don't quite approve of doing it this way, but they've already been trying to create an explosion to attack my father. To prevent more innocent people from dying because of this... against treacherous enemies, we have no choice but to do some less-than-honorable things ourselves."
"Umbrella can deploy more people... as many as you want." Sitting to one side with her arms folded and her legs crossed, Penelope spoke in an icy voice. "And wouldn't it be better if Scrimgeour came? We could settle him at the same time, then report that he died in the line of duty or something—say he was accidentally killed by the Purebloods inside when they resisted. Then you could go be the