This Hogwarts isn't normal.

Most prisoners in Azkaban feel that life is worse than death, but suicide or hunger strike is useless.

Dementors will not only prevent suicide in advance, but also feed them considerately.

Their food is happiness and all positive emotions.

If the prisoner dies, they can only suck away the soul.

Although they can have a full meal, it is not sustainable.

They work diligently and conscientiously, and bury the dead prisoners.

No salary, no rest.

There is really no better guard than Dementors.

After Fudge and his friends entered the 13th floor, the prisoners here laughed even more wantonly.

Quirrell, who came in last year, lay on the wooden bed and laughed stupidly at him.

"Hehehe~"

Umbridge's big eyes immediately stared over.

"Aha~ Ahba~ Ah hehe~"

His innocent smile coupled with this devilish laughter made even the expressionless Dawlish frown.

Fudge walked forward expressionlessly.

It was just a small scene.

"Bang——" A disheveled prisoner knocked his head against the fence.

He reached out and grabbed Fudge's sleeve, "It's you! The Minister of Magic!"

"Ha——hahahaha——" The sharp laughter suddenly flooded the entire cell.

"Rodolphus Strange," Fudge broke free with a little effort,

"Seeing you so energetic, I can rest assured."

Rodolphus, who fell to the ground, quickly got up, and his pale and thin face became hideous.

Fudge shook his head contemptuously and continued to move forward.

"You will definitely go to hell!"

Umbridge didn't dare to glare at him this time, but just followed quietly.

Quirrell is just a smart guy now, and Rodolphus is a notorious Death Eater.

"Fudge——Fudge——"

Fudge slowed down his pace when he heard the muttering.

It was a woman with a haggard face.

Her lips were thin, her eyelids were thick, and her eyelashes were long.

Maybe she was a beautiful woman once, but now she was like a crazy woman.

"Fudge!" Her hands just grabbed the fence, "Tell me, is the great Dark Lord back!"

"Bellatrix Lestrange," Fudge's eyes were particularly cold,

"He is dead, died under the killing curse rebounded by Harry Potter."

"Liar!" Bellatrix squeezed her face to the gap in the fence, trying to look at the cell closest to the stairs,

"I can smell his scent on that newcomer, you can't fool me!"

The reason why Quirrell became what he is now is because Voldemort once lodged his soul in his body.

The anger on Fudge's face quickly disappeared, "Listen to me, that devil will never come back."

"Liar!"

He ignored Bellatrix's crazy roar and walked through one cell after another.

In the face of the abuse and curses that came one after another, Umbridge almost yelled back one by one.

There is a reason why she can become a deputy minister.

When he was almost at the end of this floor, a cell attracted Fudge's attention.

The prisoner inside not only did not curse loudly, but also did not make any devilish laughs.

He just sat quietly on the wooden bed, looking up at the ceiling in a daze.

"What are you looking at?"

"Nothing."

Fudge recognized this thin and haggard face.

Umbridge also recognized it, "Sirius Black, watch your attitude.

Standing in front of you is the current Minister of Magic."

"I know." Sirius looked back at the ceiling, which was obviously more attractive to him.

"Damn Death Eaters!"

Fudge seemed to be unable to hear Umbridge's scolding, and seemed to be very interested in his performance.

"Black, are you bored?"

"Listening to the screams of those lunatics outside day after day, I'm almost going crazy with them."

Sirius is as different as Quirrell.

Scum like Tash and Slade can only stay on the 12th floor. Those who are lucky enough to live on the top floor are all vicious dark wizards sentenced to life imprisonment.

Quirrell's brain was originally problematic, and Sirius seemed particularly normal compared to other prisoners.

Umbridge changed her face 180 degrees after noticing Fudge's attitude.

"Minister, under the enlightened reform policy promoted by you, two unforgivable prisoners began to repent for everything they had done."

Her eyes were a little wet, "You have accomplished what no previous ministers have accomplished, and you have personally opened a new and great chapter in the magic world."

"Ahem--" Fudge coughed awkwardly,

"Tell me, Blake, what do you want to use to kill your boring time."

Sirius' eyes were puzzled at first, and then he looked at him a little dazedly,

"Mr. Minister, I just need a newspaper."

Fudge just stretched out his hand, and Umbridge took out a copy of the Daily Prophet from her pink bag.

"I hope you can behave well, Blake."

"I will." Sirius' eyes did not show gratitude, but he stood up numbly and took the newspaper.

Umbridge smiled brightly, which she thought was pretty.

"Minister, I suggest you write an article about today's inspection so that more wizards can know about your great deeds."

Fudge's eyes lit up.

He almost became an international joke some time ago. Wouldn't this help him restore his reputation?

He said he wanted to keep a low profile, but his body hurriedly went back the way he came.

After they left, Sirius looked down at the newspaper in his hand.

The family portrait of the Weslay family in Egypt stands out.

"What!?" His expression suddenly became angry, and he clutched the newspaper tightly with both hands, as if he wanted to tear it into pieces.

Delis, who was walking at the back, didn't notice anything strange, nor did the dementors who were hiding because of the inspection.

…

…

When she returned to the Ministry of Magic, Rita had been sitting in the lobby waiting for almost a morning.

Without saying a word, she walked over with the small notebook in hand.

"Oh! Isn't this our great reporter?"

Fudge, who originally wanted to show his face and went to the newspaper office, was particularly enthusiastic.

Rita sensed something was wrong.

In the entire British Isles, there was only one wizard who was not hiding from her, but one who was underage.

The rest are either against her, or against her.

The other party is the Minister of Magic, and the real purpose is not difficult to guess.

"Come and sit in my office." Fudge invited him warmly, and of course she agreed like a lady.

Have a sip of black tea and some exquisite desserts.

Showing courtesy for nothing is either cheating or stealing.

But Rita was Rita after all, and she wasn't afraid at all.

As Umbridge's face became more and more ugly, she calmed down a little.

Fudge put down the tea cup, "You, a great journalist, have a really good nose."

Rita returned what she thought was a reserved smile,

"Minister Fudge, if a media person doesn't have a sense of smell that ordinary people don't have, can they still be considered qualified media people?"

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"A very sharp response." Fudge smiled.

"Then as a qualified media person, I think you have no reason to refuse a big news."

Big news means traffic, and traffic means fame.

"Mr. Minister, please speak." Rita opened her small notebook.

…

…