The Golden Finger had told Dana that the portal was hidden in the Ministry of Magic—so entering that archway likely led directly to Avalon. Most people wouldn't be able to pass through, but with Merlin's blood, Dana probably could. Even so, nothing was certain. If he went through and couldn't return, that would be a disaster. His greatest goal—revenge—was still ahead.
So he resolved to wait. If he could awaken his third-stage bloodline, his precognitive abilities would grow dramatically, giving him more control over his plans. He touched the pile of gerebato magic crystals on his bedside table and nodded with determination…
February 21, 1993 9:00 AM
Eighth Basement Floor, Ministry of Magic
Barty Crouch Sr. stood in the main hall of the eighth basement with staff from the Department of International Magical Cooperation. The Ministry's layout was notoriously convoluted: visitors took an elevator down to the eighth floor and then moved up to reach the various departments. The Department of International Magical Cooperation sat on the fifth basement floor, the Minister's office on the first, while the Department of Mysteries was hidden on the ninth. The tenth housed a courtroom and temporary prison.
He waited in silence, irritated by the low murmur behind him ever since his demotion. In the past, he'd never tolerate such disrespect.
"Who are we receiving today? Why all the pomp?" whispered one of the newer employees.
"You don't know?" replied another excitedly, "A bunch of foreign business associations moved into Merlin City. It's a nightmare!"
A third chimed in: "This is the biggest event in the Ministry in ages!"
"Why?" Barty finally spoke, silencing them.
Before he could be answered, the elevator's indicator lit, and green-robed wizards stepped out. Leading the group was an attractive Chinese woman. He thought to himself, Could this be Elisa? Count Dantes's mistress? Does she really handle hundreds of millions of Galleons?
"Silence," he ordered under his breath.
Then, stepping forward, he greeted her politely: "Director Elisa, I'm Barty Crouch Sr. of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Welcome to the Ministry."
She offered a cool nod. "Director Crouch," she replied evenly. "I'm here today regarding the Ministry of Magic Development Foundation. Count Dantes instructed me to oversee its launch. I trust the Ministry will fully cooperate."
"Of course," Barty replied, suppressing his surprise. "This is the Ministry's top priority. Please, follow me."
They ascended to the fifth basement floor, passing dull, gray offices before stopping at an expansive, grand room designated for the foundation. The décor was lavish: thirty-foot ceilings, gold columns, emerald walls, polished floors, and a starry sky ceiling—a Hogwarts-style showpiece.
Elisa paused, her expression revealing nothing. Showiness disguised as grandeur, she mused, thinking of the cheap building materials enchanted to appear opulent.
If the Ministry was genuinely wealthy, they wouldn't be bending over backward for this. Barty Crouch had fallen from grace, but even so, his place at the Ministry meant the world. She concealed an amused smirk.
When Barty offered her the office, she examined the space with a calculating gaze.
"Everything's well arranged," she said. "No changes needed."
She then turned to her entourage, including Mr. Splinter. "Please arrange the foundation's structure and charge all expenses to the bank. We report to the Minister annually—accounts included."
Mr. Splinter spoke up, frowning at the basic desks. "Director, the Ministry-provided furniture… will that do? It doesn't seem adequate for our needs."
Barty grimaced. Now it felt like beggars were asking a benefactor for permission to furnish their own offices.
Elisa nodded. "Buy whatever you need. No need to pinch pennies for Count Dantes—the Count's reputation means more than money."
"Understood," Mr. Splinter replied, visibly relieved.
Barty tried to maintain composure. "Director Elisa, since you're operating from our floor, we're neighbors. I hope I might host you and your team for a meal?"
She nodded. "That would be appropriate."
But internally, her thoughts churned. The Ministry—once wielding power over her—now bowed down, simply because Count Dantes had donated one percent of profits. That's how they functioned: easily bought influence.
Ridiculous Ministry. You believe money is a gift, but to me, you're just livestock being fattened for slaughter.
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