At the other end of the bar, a young wizard in a grey robe shook his head. "I don't think the problem lies with Dumbledore."
"Look here—" He turned to the second page of the newspaper and pointed to a section.
"After Black was subdued by the Auror at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Dumbledore spoke with Black for several minutes before the Auror took Black away and imprisoned him, instead of sending him directly to Azkaban."
"This is clearly a problem with the Ministry of Magic. Dumbledore's questions are understandable, but why didn't the Ministry of Magic send him back to Azkaban immediately?"
"What does it mean to be detained? Are they locked up today and released tomorrow?"
"That's right," another person chimed in. "How many years has Azkaban kept them there? Black was there for twelve years, and then he just ran away."
"Now that they've been caught, instead of sending them back to strengthen their guard, they're finding a place to 'detain' them—where are they going to be detained?"
"Locked up in the Ministry of Magic's basement? Is that place more secure than Azkaban?"
"I heard the Auror Office is also in a difficult position right now," a middle-aged wizard wearing round-framed glasses said in a low voice.
"You all know Scrimgeour; he's always very strict and businesslike. There must be a reason why he didn't send them back this time."
"What's the reason? It can't be because Dumbledore told him 'Don't see me off,' can it?"
"I don't know about that. Anyway, I think Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic bear responsibility in this matter."
The sound echoed repeatedly in Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, the Leaky Cauldron, the Three Broomsticks, and outside Honeydukes.
Someone stopped every acquaintance passing by on the street and handed them a newspaper. "Did you see? Dumbledore is actually standing there chatting with Black."
Someone was arguing heatedly with the shop owner in front of the store.
"I'm not saying Dumbledore bad, I'm saying he did something wrong in this matter. Doing a hundred good deeds doesn't mean one bad deed can be overlooked."
Some people even folded up their newspapers and stuffed them into their pockets, muttering as they walked, "Are all the people in the Ministry of Magic brainless? They arrested someone but didn't lock him up right away? Are they just waiting for him to run away again?"
By noon, people had already started to gather in Diagon Alley.
At first, it was just three or five wizards chatting in front of the Leaky Cauldron. As they talked, their voices grew louder and their gestures became more frequent. Passersby stopped to chime in.
In less than an hour, a crowd of twenty or thirty people had gathered outside the bar. Some were waving newspapers in the air, while others were chanting slogans like "Send Black back to Azkaban."
"We should go to the Ministry of Magic!" A young witch wearing a wide-brimmed hat stood in the middle of the crowd, her newspaper rolled up into a tube.
"What do they mean by arresting people but not sending them back to Azkaban? Are they waiting for Black to run away again?"
"Yes! To the Ministry of Magic!"
"Give them an explanation!"
The crowd immediately began moving towards the Ministry of Magic.
At first, there were only a dozen or so people, but as they walked, the number grew to several dozen, and by the time they turned off Diagon Alley onto the street leading to Whitehall, there were over a hundred.
Some people held up handwritten signs, while others used magic to enlarge and project newspaper headlines into the air. The words " Dumbledore intentionally protecting criminals" swayed in the afternoon sunlight and could be seen from afar.
Meanwhile, in the Ministry Atrium, Fudge had almost rubbed the few remaining hairs on his head until they were bald.
He sat behind his desk, his left hand supporting his cheek, his right hand rubbing back and forth on the top of his head until his scalp turned red.
The documents on the table were piled up half a foot high, but he couldn't concentrate on reading a single one.
The footsteps in the corridor outside grew louder and louder, and the commotion coming from the direction of the main hall at the end of the corridor could be heard clearly even through two floors.
"Minister," his assistant burst through the door, his face paler than the protesters outside, "There are already over a hundred people gathered at the entrance to the main hall, and the number is still increasing."
"They demand you go out and give them an explanation, asking why Black wasn't sent back to Azkaban."
Fudge put the hand that was touching his head down on the table, then switched hands to touch his head.
What did Scrimgeour say?
Mr. Scrimgeour said that the Auror Office is currently holding Black in "provisional detention" to facilitate further investigation.
"But he also said that if the Ministry of Magic were to formally prosecute Black, Wizengamot would need to go through the full trial process; it's impossible to skip the trial and send him directly back to Azkaban."
"Trial proceedings?" Fudge's voice rose a notch. "Why wasn't there a trial when they arrested him? Crouch just shoved him onto the ship and sent him there. Why didn't anyone mention a trial back then?"
"That's because the circumstances were special back then..." The assistant stopped mid-sentence, because he saw that Fudge's face had turned so black it looked like ink was about to drip from it.
However, he added, "And after what happened with Lockhart, Wizengamot is now particularly meticulous about procedures..."
Fudge immediately stood up from his chair, walked to the window, and peeked out through a crack in the curtains.
The sea of heads at the entrance to the main hall made him pull the curtains back up.
He stood by the window, his forehead pressed against the window frame, and remained silent for a long time.
"All my life," he finally spoke, his voice muffled between the window frame and the curtains, sounding heavy and dull, "I just wanted to finish my term as minister peacefully."
"First, there was that author who caused so much trouble, then there was the mess that was with International Auror, then Lockhart, and now it's Black."
The assistant stood at the door, unsure of what to say.
"Go tell those people in the main hall that the Ministry of Magic is going through the proper procedures."
Fudge drew the curtains shut again, turned around, his expression a mix of exhaustion and annoyance. " Black won't be released until the procedures are complete. Send them back to wait for news."
The assistant nodded, turned around, and quickly walked out.
Fudge stood alone in his office, listening to the constant commotion at the end of the corridor, like waves repeatedly crashing against the same wall.
He shook his head, walked back behind his desk, sat down, and read the Daily Prophet again from beginning to end.
Rita's article is absolutely terrible.
She recounted the events of last night in great detail, while glossing over Black's account of the hidden truths from back then.
However, the author focuses on the few minutes Dumbledore spends talking to Black in the open space, making it the central point of the entire article, and then hints at the end that the Ministry of Magic "seems to lack a sense of urgency in dealing with the problem of fugitives."
Every word touched a nerve most sensitive in the Wizarding World.
Every word he uttered made Fudge's day uneasy.
" Rita Skeeter..." Fudge closed the newspaper, gritted his teeth, and repeated the name before opening it again and starting to read from the first line.
He needed to think of a solution, but right now he couldn't come up with a single usable one.