Inside the Minister's Office at the Ministry of Magic, Scrimgeour was talking with Dumbledore.
Dumbledore laid out his entire plan-how he intended to set a trap for Voldemort.
After hearing Dumbledore's plan, Scrimgeour was as delighted as he was surprised. Luring Death Eaters to their deaths and setting traps for Voldemort were things he was more than happy to help with.
Besides, Scrimgeour had received plenty of reports that many Dark Wizards from overseas had joined the Death Eaters, which had been giving him a headache.
And that was not his only headache. Scrimgeour kept glancing at one corner of his office. Please, Mr. Behrens, don't come today!
If Mr. Behrens appeared here, it would spell trouble.
Dumbledore noticed that something seemed to be weighing on Scrimgeour's mind. "Rufus, you seem very anxious today."
"Some internal administrative matters at the Ministry," Scrimgeour said, shaking his head and raising his hand. "And this hand of mine is quite a problem, too."
Dumbledore nodded. The condition of Scrimgeour's hand was indeed extremely serious; discomfort was only natural. "I think we could give you another treatment. The responsibilities you bear right now are important."
"If possible, I'd like to do it today, Professor Dumbledore." Scrimgeour managed a strained smile. "It's rather embarrassing. I can't do anything about these curses."
Dumbledore took a sip of tea. "That's perfectly normal. Every wizard has their own area of expertise."
"Then I'm sorry for the trouble again, Professor Dumbledore," Scrimgeour said quickly.
"It's only right that I help." Dumbledore's tone was light. Working with Scrimgeour had been a pleasure.
In both ability and temperament, Scrimgeour was far superior to Fudge, making their cooperation considerably easier. This minister also lacked Fudge's greed for power entirely.
Watching Scrimgeour remove his glove, Dumbledore felt that supporting Fudge back then had