Chapter 154: Overcast England

Time is fair; it doesn't favor anyone nor does it stop for anyone.

Similarly, time is also fickle, changing the world silently with every passing minute and second.

While the Weasley family was vacationing in Egypt, the British Ministry of Magic was under dark clouds.

More precisely, the Minister's office was under dark clouds.

Fudge sat in a dragon-hide upholstered chair, his face ominously grim. He had received news from Azkaban half an hour ago: the notorious Sirius Black had escaped.

Of course, this wasn't a big deal in itself; he could just blame the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. After all, the public didn't care about the truth; they just wanted an explanation or someone to blame.

But this time, the blame was hard to shift because he had visited Azkaban just yesterday and even kindly handed Sirius a newspaper.

This should have been a commendable action, and in fact, the Minister's office did receive some letters of praise this morning after the event was reported. Mostly from old pure-blood families, commending the Ministry for being kind to the last scion of the Black family.

However, within just one day, everything had turned upside down.

"I called you here for a meeting, not to act like mute birds. Why isn't anyone speaking? Are you all waiting to see me make a fool of myself?"

In the office, Fudge glared at the two people opposite him: Amelia Bones, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and Gadvin Robards, head of the Auror Office.

But in response, there was only silence.

"Fine! Before I fall, you won't have it easy either. Really! I mean what I say."

Seeing Fudge's feigned fierceness, Amelia looked aside disdainfully. The entire Ministry of Magic had only seven departments, and each head was powerful and influential.

The Minister? Perhaps in the eyes of the general public, the Minister was high and mighty, but in the eyes of the department heads, he was just a title.

Amelia's disdainful attitude was clear to Fudge, but he was helpless. The Minister didn't have the power to dismiss department heads.

The Minister's authority was limited to proposing dismissals, and then the remaining six department heads would vote. Only if more than half agreed would a dismissal be final.

However, due to the intertwined interests of pure-blood families, unless someone did something that harmed everyone's interests, they wouldn't be dismissed, no matter how much public outrage there was. At most, someone would take the blame.

Fudge didn't focus on Amelia; instead, he turned his gaze to the head of the Auror Office.

Seeing Fudge's predatory look, Robards was also in a tough spot. Unlike his calm superior, he couldn't withstand the Minister's pressure as a mere office head.

"We've dispatched all our Aurors, including this year's interns. We've identified the general area, but finding Sirius Black really takes time, Minister!"

Robards carefully explained his arrangements and plans.

"Of course I know it takes time!" Fudge slammed the table in anger, the loud noise echoing in the office.

"By tomorrow morning at the latest, I must see Sirius Black, dead or alive. Do you understand me, Mr. Robards?"

"I understand!" Robards nodded slightly, a hint of determination in his eyes.

As the three were about to reach an agreement, a paper airplane flew leisurely to the large desk.

Unlike usual, Fudge immediately opened it to check.

Time passed silently.

After a long while.

"It can't be hidden! Contact the Daily Prophet and immediately announce Sirius Black's escape. Someone saw him in London; not only was there an attack, but even his wand was stolen!"

Fudge slumped in his chair, feeling as though he had aged significantly in an instant.

...

Time flowed on.

Just as the Ministry was preparing to release the news, Ino sat in the sanctuary, staring blankly at a luxurious and beautiful long sword.

He had spent a whole twenty thousand gold coins to buy the magical weapon "Dance of the Snow."

However, the curse and resentment entwined around the blade left him helpless. He had tried every available spell, but nothing worked.

Such a weapon couldn't be used; even carrying it would attract a lot of trouble, given the innate sensitivity of wizards.

"Lina, what do you think about this curse..." Ino turned to the side.

Before he could finish, a cold voice interrupted him:

"Don't look at me! I'm just an Acromantula; what can I do?"

"Then I'll think of something myself!" Ino lowered his head again, inch by inch, tracing the blade with his wand.

"Ugh!" Lina sighed and walked over to the sword with her long legs.

"Aren't you good at telling stories? Tell it some sweet love stories. Maybe that will help, who knows."

"Oh!" Ino nodded silently.

However, this simple response annoyed Lina.

"What do you mean 'oh'? I'm not the one who wants to hear stories. It's the resentment on the blade. You can try this method. Or you could use the fire from an oil lamp, but it might cause irreversible damage."

Fire? Ino glanced at the oil lamp hanging on the maple tree and shook his head, refusing:

"Sorry, Lina. I was a bit dismissive earlier, but I think telling stories and using fire are unreliable. Let's just leave it be!"

He decided not to bother removing the curse of resentment anymore. After all, it was just an interesting toy; he wasn't planning to wield it like Gandalf in battle.

"Suit yourself! If it doesn't work, just hang it up as decoration. It's quite pretty anyway."

Although Lina sounded indifferent, she wasted no time in her actions. She spat out silk and quickly wove an ice-blue scabbard in a few seconds.

...

The sword was hung on another thick branch of the maple tree.

After finishing this, Ino inadvertently looked at the suitcase.

"Lina, how many Acromantulas are there in the suitcase now? Is there still enough space?"

Although Dumbledore had expanded the space with an Extension Charm on the last day of the summer term, he was still worried. Acromantulas were notoriously prolific.

"Four hundred and twenty young spiders, about two thousand spiderlings, and I haven't counted the eggs."

Indeed, Lina's answer confirmed his suspicion, though the numbers...

Suddenly, Ino seemed to remember something and turned sharply: "How long have you been in the suitcase lately?"

"How long?" Lina's tone was hesitant, as if calculating something.

"Two years? Or maybe less than two years, around that. After all, the breeding cycle of Acromantulas is fixed."

Hearing this, Ino looked at Lina apologetically.

"Sorry, I didn't consider it properly. You can stay outside from now on. I'll use a Shrinking Charm; no one will notice."