"--I never expected the Ministry of Magic to be so reasonable."
Perched on Zheng Qing's shoulder, Qilin muttered in a baffled tone, "no matter what, Azkaban is still subordinate to the Ministry of Magic, isn't it? Dozens of Azkaban employees were wiped out in public, yet the Ministry didn't even send an investigation team... They just registered it, and that was that? What kind of Merlin's underpants joke is this?"
At that moment, they were making their way through the stairwells of Hogwarts Castle.
Earlier, Zheng Qing had undergone a brief questioning by the Aurors. After receiving guarantees from both the school and the Ministry of Magic's Department of International Affairs, the Auror Office had merely issued him a notice restricting his public appearances, without even imposing a fine.
"Because nobody likes Dementors."
Though Zheng Qing was involved in the incident, he saw things more clearly than the cat on his shoulder. "To the Ministry of Magic, those monsters are nothing but 'negative assets.' The fewer of them, the better... Besides, the one who killed the Dementors was also a Ministry employee, and a senior one at that. The priorities are obvious."
"Yes, sir Assistant."
Qilin pinched its nose and gave a sarcastic little "Heh."
"--Then what do you expect the Ministry to do? Throw me into Azkaban?"
Zheng Qing gave a matching "Heh."
Qilin blinked its huge round eyes, then suddenly understood—right. Throwing a Dementor butcher into a Dementor den looked like nothing less than another round of retaliation against the "victims."
"--Scumbag."
Zheng Qing's spoken password interrupted the tabby's train of thought.
"Ah, right, you're a scumbag," it muttered quietly.
"No! I'm not!"
The Fat Lady angrily corrected Qilin's wording, then eyed the green-robed wizard before her suspiciously. After a long moment, she slowly shifted aside and huffed,