"Allen, I'll draw him when I get back," Penelope said, her voice carrying a hint of trying to please him. Her gaze turned toward the spot where Scrimgeour had been lying earlier. There was no trace of him there now, only Scrimgeour's clothes and the gray powder he had turned into after his soul was sucked away. She looked a little troubled. In her memory, the old lion had always seemed extremely unpleasant, but she had never paid much attention to the details of his appearance.
"Rufus led the Armed Aurors on strike a while back, so plenty of photos were kept." Seeing what Penelope was thinking, Allen comforted her. "I remember your drawing skills are pretty good. You'll have no problem copying from those. Besides, we're not trying to make it look exactly like him... It's for comforting ourselves..."
"Allen, now that Scrimgeour is dead, will this affect your plan... I messed up your arrangements..." Penelope saw that he was speaking lightly, but she still could not let it go. She felt she had only made things worse while trying to help, and had even forced Allen to clean up her corpse-and-butt mess.
"Whether he lives or dies doesn't have much impact anymore... And this isn't bad. Now Scrimgeour, the one who was always obstructing us, is simply gone. In the future, you'll take over Albert's position, and Albert will become the new director, putting the entire Auror Office in our hands." Allen leaned somewhat lazily on his staff and coaxed her softly. "Don't worry, Penelope. You shouldn't have done this, but the timing you chose happened to be quite clever... Someone will jump out on their own and corroborate it for us..."
Allen suddenly pressed the Perception Mark on his arm. "Oh, Albert..."
Hearing that Allen had received