"Name?"

"Mundungus, Mundungus Fletcher!"

"When did you become a werewolf?"

"I'm not a werewolf! Bloody hell, are you all deaf?!"

"Another stubborn one refusing to answer..."

Umbridge raised her eyebrows, glanced at the smelly, slovenly man in the interrogation room, and scribbled something in her notebook.

He was a short, stocky man with a stubbly beard, wearing a tattered coat, with short, bowed legs, long, messy ginger hair, and swollen, bloodshot eyes, which made Mundungus look like a short-legged hound scavenging for food in a garbage dump.

Snake-like chains were wrapped around Mundungus's arms, binding him firmly to the cold iron chair.

No matter how hard the man struggled, he could not pose any threat to the officers in the interrogation room, apart from the pleasant clanging of the chains.

More importantly, two tall monsters with faces hidden by hoods, exuding the aura of decay and death, stood guard at the door.

With these Azkaban guards maintaining order, Umbridge, sitting above the interrogation room, felt even more at ease.

"Alright, Mr. Mundungus, you are being temporarily detained for refusing to comply with the Ministry of Magic's newly promulgated "Werewolf Restriction Act," obstructing public order, and being suspected of being an unregistered werewolf. From now until the next full moon, you will be isolated in the Ministry of Magic dungeon... Once your werewolf status has been updated and registered, we will send you and your companions to the area designated by the Ministry of Magic to start a new life."

"I am a wizard! Understand?! A wizard, not a werewolf!"

Mundungus struggled frantically, looking fearfully at the two Dementors floating by the door.

"This is not in accordance with the procedure. You have no right to throw a wizard into Azkaban prison without trial! This is illegal. I want to see Dumbledore. Mr. Dumbledore would never allow this to happen! Bloody hell, this is ridiculous..."

"Oh? A harmless wizard who just happens to be in a werewolf community?"

"It's just business! I explained, it's easy to sell small things there at high prices."

"It is indeed rare for a wizard to be born among werewolves, but that doesn't mean you can fool the Ministry of Magic. I've seen—"

Umbridge tapped her notebook with a playful expression, didn't continue speaking, but suddenly changed the subject, and said softly with a fake smile.

"Of course, Azkaban will spare a cell for you, after all, you were so brave in the previous battle—if it weren't for the explosions and chaos you created at the end, we should have been able to wipe out those wolf cubs in one fell swoop, instead of now... You must be very proud, right? Single-handedly destroying the Ministry of Magic's carefully planned arrest operation. There will be a trial, of course, don't worry."

"I didn't, I didn't cast a spell—that wasn't me, I've explained it many times!"

Mundungus Fletcher roared desperately, the chains on the chair clanging under his struggle.

"Then, is this your wand?"

Another voice emerged, Scrimgeour leaned forward, playing with a dirty wand full of scratches in his hand.

As the Head of the Auror Office, he never thought that he and his Aurors would experience two failures in just one week.

Although strictly speaking, this time was not a complete defeat, the Ministry of Magic's authority and plan were still severely trampled on—just as they were carrying out the last round of werewolf community arrest operations, and were about to catch Fenrir Greyback, this slovenly, down-and-out wizard suddenly raised his wand and attacked the Aurors, creating a huge explosion in the town, helping the werewolves break through the Ministry of Magic's encirclement.

"T-this, this is, but..."

"There is a simple way to find out the last spell cast by the wand, you know? Let's see what you've done?"

Scrimgeour nodded indifferently, and pulled out his wand and pointed it at the tip of Mundungus's wand.

"Prior Incantato."

Thick gray smoke emerged from the place where the two wands met, and then exploded violently in mid-air, the tyrannical shock wave instantly tore the smoke apart, turning into a hurricane sweeping through the entire interrogation room: obviously, this was a magical, powerful explosion of illusion re-emergence.

"Very satisfied, isn't it? Hmm?! Re-appreciate your masterpiece—"

Rufus Scrimgeour snorted cruelly, looking at the stunned Mundungus like an enraged lion.

"Despicable, shameless, dirty sneak attack, thanks to your spell, seven of our Aurors were injured to varying degrees, and three Ministry of Magic employees were scratched by the werewolves who took the opportunity to rush out, leaving unsightly scars that are difficult to heal! You will of course be tried. Azkaban will definitely have a place for you, even if you are not a werewolf, you are an accomplice in helping Fenrir Greyback escape!"

"This, this really wasn't me. A mysterious wizard snatched my wand and cast this spell..."

"And then he dropped the wand and disappeared directly? In less than two seconds?"

"Yes, yes—"

"Enough! Do you think the Ministry of Magic are fools?!"

Rufus Scrimgeour raised his fist and slammed it on the table with a bang, roaring angrily.

Mundungus opened his mouth wide, opening and closing it weakly like a catfish that had just been pulled ashore.

In fact, what happened to him was so absurd.

He happened to get a batch of cheap dittany, intending to secretly sell it in the werewolf community, and see if he could buy some magic props or magic materials at a low price to resell—compared to the fiercely competitive Knockturn Alley black market, the werewolf community was a faster way to make money.

However, what Mundungus never expected was that he would be so unlucky as to run into the Ministry of Magic's secret operation.

And he was inexplicably involved in the "mysterious wizard" and the Ministry of Magic's attack case, and was even slandered as a werewolf, which was simply...

"Dumbledore, I want to see Dumbledore!"

"Hey, you will of course see Albus Dumbledore, on your trial day."

Rufus Scrimgeour said contemptuously, looking at Mundungus's dirty coat.

"As the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Dumbledore will of course attend the trial. After the full moon, you will be tried in the Wizengamot together with those werewolves who intended to attack the Ministry of Magic—if you are lucky, Greyback will accompany you at that time."

Scrimgeour had seen no less than a hundred such bottom-level, garbage-like Magical World sewer rats.

If people think that reporting the names of big shots in front of Ministry of Magic officials can exonerate them, then they underestimate the intelligence of the Ministry of Magic too much.

How could that top wizard, who lived in seclusion in Hogwarts Castle and usually ignored even the Minister of Magic's invitation, have any connection with these dirty, mercenary smugglers and suspected werewolves? Anyone who isn't blind can see the huge gap between the two.

"Alright, I think the evidence is obvious... As for being stubborn, we have time."

Umbridge said sweetly, a nauseating smile floating on her pale, plump cheeks.

She gently circled Mundungus's name, and waved her hand at the "guards" at the door in Mundungus's desperate gaze.

"Guards, you can take Mr. Fletcher to his cell. If he resists the law with violence in this process, intending to commit murder and attack in the Ministry of Magic, you can give him a little lesson—but it can't be a 'kiss', understand? At least not before the end of the trial day, otherwise it will be difficult to explain to Dumbledore and the Wizengamot. That's all."

The two Dementors by the door nodded slowly, and floated towards the armchair in the middle of the room, untying the chains. Their rotten, dead-like hands tightly grabbed Mundungus's arms and stood him up. Mundungus looked like he was about to faint, and seemed to have lost all vitality as the Dementors approached him.

As the culprit who almost ruined the secret arrest operation, he can be said to be one of the most closely guarded suspects.

"Is this the last one? All the gains from our operation."

Looking coldly at Mundungus being escorted away by the Dementors, Umbridge turned to Scrimgeour and asked softly.

"Well, this raid has captured a total of fifty-one suspected werewolves. With my understanding of these dark creatures, at least most of them are one hundred percent werewolves—this should be the largest arrest in recent decades."

"Very good, very good, but this is not the end, we still have a lot of work to do."

Dolores Umbridge said excitedly, the ugly rings on her short fingers making clacking sounds.

This is a great victory worthy of publicity. Expelling and containing werewolves, something that the Ministry of Magic has been unable to solve for decades. If it is perfectly solved under her leadership, then her current unfavorable evaluation in magical society and public opinion will immediately undergo a 180-degree reversal.

"That's right, this matter is not over yet. Fenrir Greyback and several high-risk werewolves are still at large."

Rufus Scrimgeour said with a stern expression, his eyes looking particularly terrifying.

"Now most of the werewolves we contain and detain are harmless guys. We have missed a lot of the really dangerous werewolf legions. This action will undoubtedly completely anger those dark creatures. The immediate priority is that we have to make a counterattack as soon as possible, otherwise..."

"Oh, no, no, no, you didn't understand what I meant, Director Scrimgeour."

Dolores Umbridge shook her finger, looking at the old lion next to her in a great mood.

This Head of the Auror Office is indeed extremely reliable and tough in terms of work ability, but he is obviously much more dull and wooden in terms of politics. If it were normal, she wouldn't kindly point out these little tricks, but considering that she now has to rely on the other party's achievements...

"The immediate priority? The immediate priority is of course to count our achievements this time, so that we can report to the public."

Umbridge said triumphantly, her round eyes full of cruelty and indifference, "If I remember correctly, when Voldemort wreaked havoc in the magical world, those dark creatures were quite active under his command... When the Death Eaters were tried back then, due to the debate over the werewolf issue, those crazy and dangerous beasts were missed. But this time is different. We can properly determine the crime."

"But, that was all more than ten years ago, and we can't tell who exactly..."

Rufus Scrimgeour frowned, shook his head, and said in a deep voice.

Unlike giants and Death Eaters, the werewolf legion under Voldemort usually went out after transforming on the night of the full moon when attacking humans, so that they were more of a deterrent weapon than a spokesperson for the Dark Lord exposed in people's sight.

"Can you distinguish between werewolves, I mean after they turn into beasts, tell who is who?"

"Maybe Fenrir Greyback can, but other werewolves—"

"That's right, neither can I. Obviously, those wizards reading the newspapers can't tell either."

Umbridge's smile became even brighter, her mouth wide open, like a toad devouring a fly.

"When they turn into wolves and start going crazy, looking at those beast photos—whether dead or alive... Deciding how many of them once devoted themselves to the Dark Lord's forces to harm others is not based on their hypocritical testimony, but on the fair judgment of the Aurors—"

"This is..."

Rufus Scrimgeour looked at the witch in front of him in shock, and a chill suddenly rose in his heart.

Compared to those werewolf suspects imprisoned in the dungeon, this Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic was more like a man-eating wolf.

Umbridge raised her greasy hand, patted Scrimgeour on the shoulder casually, smiled, and said softly.

"As far as I know, Amelia Bones, the current Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, is nearing retirement age. Director Scrimgeour, if you can make some achievements in these years, perhaps...you should think about it. See you at the press conference tomorrow afternoon—"

Then, she pursed her lips, put away the files and interrogation records on the table, turned around, and left the room.

The werewolf concentration plan took Umbridge two whole days. Now she has to start dealing with and arranging some other things. After all, from next week, she will return to Hogwarts and start a new round of longer "Ministry of Magic teaching review" work.

And before that, she has to find a way to seek more privileges for her future work.

For example, the suggestion made by that dull and honest Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt not long ago is very worth considering.

The Ministry of Magic can influence Hogwarts by issuing "Educational Decrees." If any omissions are found in this process, new "Educational Decrees" can be issued as supplements, and the latest Educational Decree that needs to be issued and finalized is...

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Yay!