The Ministry of Magic, the Minister's Office.
"What are those Dementors at Azkaban good for?! How could they let Sirius Black escape?! And this article—it's slander, slander!"
Fudge's roars nearly lifted the ceiling off his office. As he shouted, he slapped the newspaper on his desk, making the pile of red envelopes on it tremble.
The seals on those Howlers had swollen until they gleamed, as though they might burst at any moment.
"Umbridge, how many more points did my approval rating drop today?" Fudge asked, feeling his heart quiver.
Still dressed entirely in pink, Umbridge only dared answer in a small voice. "Today... today it was th-three points."
Fudge nearly blacked out.
Down again. Down again!
Ever since word of Sirius Black's escape had spread, his approval rating had been plummeting.
The few points he had gained from the werewolf camp incident just days earlier had been wiped out. That rise had been swallowed whole, as though it had never existed, and now he was even several points in the red!
"Umbridge, hurry up and get rid of these Howlers!"
Glancing at the envelopes swollen to bursting, Umbridge swallowed. "But..."
"But what?! Get on with it!"
Fudge flew into another rage. He did not even need to read the Howlers. Ever since Sirius Black's escape, letters like these had poured in, condemning him as incompetent, weak, and stupid. They had called him every name imaginable.
There were even rumors that Sirius Black had escaped after Fudge visited Azkaban, and that he had helped Sirius Black break out.
Utter nonsense!
He was the Minister for Magic! Would he help a notorious prisoner escape unless a Dementor had sucked out his brains?
Worst of all, some people were clamoring for him to step down and let Dumbledore lead the Wizarding World.