On the second floor of the Ministry of Magic.
Scrimgeour had expected fierce fighting here. Instead, the atmosphere was downright strange.
The layout resembled that of some Muggle office buildings: a central hall connected several departments. Scrimgeour and Will had appeared in that hall.
The Ministry's lifts were here too.
The hall was packed with Death Eaters, but they had set up defensive lines along the corridors leading to the different departments. They seemed to be defending this position.
Behind those lines, Death Eaters were boarding the lifts in batches. Scrimgeour spotted several Ministry employees among them.
They hardly looked coerced. Most likely, they were accomplices of the Death Eaters—damned traitors.
The Ministry staff weren't attacking either. They seemed willing to let the Death Eaters go. The two sides maintained that strange balance.
Until Will and Scrimgeour arrived.
Scrimgeour realized he was still invisible, while Will had appeared in the middle of the hall wearing his face.
The Death Eaters around them froze.
Then they recognized "Scrimgeour."
One Death Eater roared, "Kill—"
The words caught in his throat. He never got another chance to finish them.
Scrimgeour watched a tiny, pure-white bird fly out through the man's head.
The Death Eater's skull gave way like a soft watermelon as the bird pierced straight through it. Its beak gleamed like metal.
Yet not a trace of crimson stained its feathers.
And it wasn't just him. Pure-white birds punched through more Death Eaters' heads. With every death, more birds appeared and began circling above the hall.
Scrimgeour recognized them. They were all white ravens.
Pop—pop—pop! Bang—bang—bang!
Every raven that emerged meant another Death Eater had died.
Flocks of Snow-White Ravens wheeled and danced through the hall, a breathtaking sight. Scrimgeour found it terrifying.
And it wasn't over. Not all the Death Eaters