Ministry of Magic.
Crouch Sr.'s chance had finally come.
The Azkaban prison break became the perfect moment for him to strike. When Tommy arrived at the Ministry leading a group clad in white robes, Crouch knew the time he had been waiting for had come.
Tommy bowed slightly and smiled. "Minister Crouch, the items ordered by the Ministry have been completed. The Alchemy Workshop personnel will install them for you."
Crouch picked up the circular ring-shaped object from his desk. After pondering it for a moment, he asked gravely, "Does this thing really work?"
"Please trust the Silverhand Johnny Specialty Store," Tommy replied with calm courtesy, unoffended. "We never exaggerate our claims."
Crouch studied his former subordinate and nodded. "I trust Lord Johnny Silverhand won't let me down."
He picked up the ring, a rare smile appearing on his usually stiff face.
That very day, the Ministry of Magic held a press conference.
Rita Skeeter, the editor-in-chief of the Daily Prophet, personally took the reins and penned a scathing editorial questioning Azkaban's accountability.
This wasn't the first time Dementors had allowed prisoners to escape.
The escapes of Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew already pointed to their incompetence.
Now, this large-scale breakout had become a full-blown disgrace to the Ministry. The new Minister, Barty Crouch Sr., expressed strong doubts about Dementors appearing near Muggle-populated areas.
After several months of investigation, the truth was uncovered.
The Dementors, due to their dereliction of duty, were now facing dismissal by the Ministry of Magic.
This report quickly spread throughout the wizarding world like wildfire.
Upon hearing that Crouch Sr. was going to fire those revolting creatures, the majority of wizards applauded the decision.
A smaller group, however, was skeptical about the move, citing the Dementors' long-standing role in the Ministry and their unique functions.
In response, Crouch Sr. offered nothing but a hardline stance.
Although he had not yet publicly revealed the issue regarding Voldemort, he knew full well what the escape of the Death Eaters signified.
If a bunch of traitors weren't going to be dismissed, were they supposed to stay around for Christmas?
He personally led a team of wizards to Azkaban. Piers had already made all the necessary preparations.
As the strike force headed to Azkaban, the Auror Office launched a simultaneous operation.
Piers, his polished leather shoes clicking with authority, arrived at Azkaban and arrogantly produced an official Ministry decree.
The Dementors were dismissed! At that very moment!
The announcement enraged the Dementors.
But Piers had never intended to resolve things peacefully. He simply stepped back, allowing the Aurors to handle it.
A dozen or so Patronuses shot toward the Dementors, driving away the gathered swarm.
Tommy led the alchemists from the Foundry into Azkaban. Each person held a device resembling a receiver, which they buried or embedded into every cell within the prison.
If they encountered any Dementors along the way, the security team would step in to handle them.
Before long, the Azkaban Dementors were herded into a single cell and temporarily restrained.
All the inmates in Azkaban had already been fitted with a certain ring-shaped device.
Worn around their necks, the devices were unfamiliar and intimidating. One prisoner, upon spotting a wand on one of the alchemists, suddenly broke free and lunged to grab it.
He grinned wickedly as he took the alchemist hostage. Piers's expression turned grim—he hadn't expected something to go wrong.
"Don't come any closer, or I'll kill him!"
The prisoner shouted, though his voice betrayed his nerves. Tommy remained calm, replying indifferently, "Then go ahead."
All the alchemists around them paused. They looked at the prisoner as if they were watching a play, their expressions mocking and amused.
The prisoner hesitated, then shouted again, "I mean it! Get back, or I'll really kill him!"
Piers was worried the Silverhand Johnny Speciality Store employee might be harmed and looked a bit uncertain.
But Tommy stayed utterly composed and even politely gestured for the prisoner to proceed.
After all, anyone locked up in Azkaban was, without exception, a dangerous piece of work.
Seeing Tommy's indifferent attitude, the prisoner hardened his heart. He aimed the wand at the alchemist's head and shouted, "Avada Kedav—!"
But before he could finish, he saw the alchemist calmly digging at his ear.
Piers blinked in confusion—did the spell not work?
Unwilling to give up, the prisoner shouted again, but the result was the same.
An Auror behind him cast a Stunner, knocking him out cold.
"Pfft~"
Tommy calmly explained, "The magic loop ring absorbs the wearer's internal magic, constructs a transmission structure, and drains the magic from their body."
He pointed to the receivers that had been installed earlier and smiled. "Their magic is being absorbed into the magic furnace, which supplies energy for the 'Zhi' series."
"In the future, energy supplements for the Enforcers' gear can be drawn directly from the magic transmitted through Azkaban."
Piers's eyes lit up. He knew very well that maintaining Enforcer gear cost a fortune.
With the magic furnace in place, they could save a huge amount in expenses.
It was basically a political win handed to him on a silver platter.
A satisfied smile appeared on Piers's face as he watched the Azkaban prisoners being fitted with the magic loop rings.
Tommy seized the opportunity to promote his products. He pulled out a bracelet and said, "This is our newly developed item. It can temporarily suppress the flow of magic inside a wizard."
As the two chatted away, Azkaban underwent a complete transformation.
When Barty Crouch Sr. arrived, all the prisoners had already been fitted with the magic loop rings.
After learning that these devices not only suppressed magic but also served as a power source for the Enforcers' gear, he and Piers were of one mind.
Tommy then demonstrated an even more powerful feature.
The Anti-Magic Field!
By simply reversing the operation of the magic furnace, Azkaban could be turned into an impenetrable anti-magic zone.
Anyone trying to escape would be drained of their magic entirely.
Using their own magic as the spear to pierce their own shield.
There was no way anyone could break out of a place like this.
Barty looked over at the Dementors, his expression grave. "Lord Johnny Silverhand requested control over the Dementors in exchange for the cost of this installation—he's getting the short end of the deal."
"Minister Crouch," Tommy replied with a smile, "my lord is always happy to help a friend in need."
The Dementors were a hot potato—after this incident, they held a deep grudge against the Ministry of Magic.
And given how difficult they were to kill, disposing of them had become a serious problem.
But Barty didn't have to worry that Johnny Silverhand would use the Dementors as leverage against the Ministry.
They were allies, and besides, the Dementors now bore just as much hatred toward the Silverhand Specialty Store.
Given the Dementors' previous secret alliance with Voldemort—and Johnny Silverhand's uncompromising stance against Death Eaters—there was every reason to trust the arrangement.
The deal between both parties went smoothly.
Tommy said, "With our business on behalf of the Silverhand Exclusive Store concluded, my lord, as a friend, has a gift for Minister Crouch."
When Barty saw the Enforcer Squad bring in Antonin Dolohov, he broke into an unusually kind and cheerful smile.
That very same day—
The news that the Dementors had been dismissed from Azkaban was released, accompanied by reports of Barty Crouch's swift and decisive actions.
Of the ten prisoners who had escaped from Azkaban, Antonin Dolohov had already been recaptured.
The speed was staggering—unlike the past, where it took over a year to catch even one escaped convict.
The Daily Prophet once again sang high praises for Minister Barty Crouch, hailing him as the most popular minister in the past twenty years.
Even The Quibbler, which usually treated everything like a joke, begrudgingly praised old Barty for once, instead of suggesting—as they had with Fudge—that he secretly raised a private army of toads.
John received all this news right after finishing his Care of Magical Creatures class.
He was a little helpless—because of the sudden appearance of that baby Thestral.
The young Thestral had walked right up to John, proudly showing off the newly grown feathers on its wings.
A single oversight.
The baby Thestral had come over, tempted by the chance to trade for food.
Hagrid seized the opportunity to give everyone a very interesting impromptu lesson before class ended.
Harry finally understood—he wasn't going mad.
Thestrals were creatures that only those who had seen death could see. Hagrid called them fascinating magical beasts.
But Umbridge clearly didn't see it that way.
In the wizarding world, Thestrals had always been seen as omens of bad luck.
Much like Dementors, they weren't creatures most people liked.
She scribbled furiously in her logbook, her wide toad-like mouth stretched open, looking even more like a greedy, ugly toad.
To Hagrid, this may have been one of his liveliest lessons.
But to most of the other students, it was just Hagrid enthusiastically introducing them to thin air.
Other than a handful of students, no one else could actually see what he was talking about.
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