Hogwarts: I, Tom, am really not Voldemort!

“Albus Dumbledore?”

Tonks looked at Scrimgeour like he was an idiot, wondering if he'd suffered brain damage from a curse.

“Are you sure?”

“I'm sure. Although it's possible he used Polyjuice Potion, it's highly likely to be Dumbledore himself. He even admitted to casting the Dark Mark and attacking Mr. Crouch.”

Seeing Scrimgeour's confident demeanor, Tonks remained unconvinced.

“You might as well say Dumbledore is the new leader of the Death Eaters, Scrimgeour. I'm taking you to St. Mungo's for a thorough check-up right away.”

Seeing Tonks' disbelief, Scrimgeour didn't want to waste words and asked directly, “Are all entrances and fireplaces in the Ministry sealed?”

“They're all sealed.”

Confirmed by Tonks, Scrimgeour commanded everyone present, “Dumbledore hasn't escaped yet! Search!”

“But what do we do after we find him? We're no match for Dumbledore.”

Someone weakly asked after Scrimgeour issued the order.

Scrimgeour paused, then deflated, “If we find him, stall him. We'll figure out the rest later.”

.........

While Scrimgeour and his team were frantically searching for Dumbledore in the Ministry, Tom had already been taken away by Winky, the house-elf controlled by the Imperius Curse, back to the Crouch Manor.

“Heh, the Ministry probably never thought that house-elves' Apparition could ignore anti-Apparition magic. Such a big loophole, just the arrogance of wizards.”

After scoffing at the Ministry, Tom stunned Winky and began to modify her memory.

After Tom's careful modification, Winky's memory of the day became: she accidentally stumbled upon Dumbledore and someone wrapped in black robes doing unspeakable things in the woods. Dumbledore even cast a 'Bone of the Father, Flesh of the Servant, Blood of the Enemy' spell to spice things up. Discovering this secret, Winky fled in fear, but Dumbledore chased after her to Crouch Manor and attacked Mr. Crouch and her.

Her last image was fixed on Dumbledore taking off Mr. Crouch's clothes, stroking him all over, and plucking a hair from his head.

The flaws were huge, illogical, and obviously fake, but enough to disgust someone. Tom was very happy to achieve this. If some fool actually believed this, it would be hilarious.

Having happily completed everything, he returned to Hogsmeade and then back to Hogwarts through the secret passage.

Calculating the time, Tom realized he might even make it to the evening banquet.

.........

While Tom was enjoying the delicious food in the Great Hall with a relaxed expression, Scrimgeour in the Ministry was still frantically searching for Dumbledore's whereabouts.

“Scrimgeour, nothing here either.”

“All the employees still on duty in the Ministry have been mobilized. We've searched the entire Ministry, but haven't found any trace of Dumbledore.”

“Scrimgeour, could you be mistaken? Dumbledore would never do such a thing.”

Scrimgeour scratched his hair in frustration. So many things had happened today, enough to give him a headache. Now, not being able to find the person with the Ministry completely sealed was extremely frustrating.

What made him even more uncomfortable was that most people in the Ministry, like Tonks, thought his brain had been damaged by a curse and didn't believe Dumbledore was the instigator of all this. They just thought it might be some dark wizard from somewhere. Now, not finding the person further deepened the crisis of confidence in him.

Just as everyone was at a loss, an Auror suddenly proposed a hypothesis: “I heard Dumbledore has a phoenix. Could Dumbledore have left through his phoenix?”

Scrimgeour's eyes lit up. That made sense. That might be the most reasonable explanation so far.

Then, Scrimgeour shouted to the Aurors, “Let's go to Hogwarts to find Dumbledore.”

As he was about to leave, he suddenly stopped, “Right, find someone to notify Dawlish and Williamson, and have them go back to Crouch Manor to carefully check for any remaining clues.”

.........

Tom ate a hearty meal, belched contentedly, and slumped in his chair, not wanting to move.

A loud “Bang!” was heard, and the Great Hall doors were pushed open heavily.

Scrimgeour rushed in with a group of Aurors.

Tom glanced at Scrimgeour and his group, then at Dumbledore's empty seat at the staff table, and couldn't help but smirk. There was a good show to watch.

Scrimgeour had obviously noticed this as well, and his face became very unsightly.

“Rufus, what's going on with so many Aurors? Has something happened?”

“Albus? I haven't seen him all day. It seems he went out for something,” Professor McGonagall replied after thinking for a moment. “Is there something you need Albus for?”

“The Ministry was invaded today, and the culprit is Dumbledore.”

As soon as Scrimgeour finished speaking, Professor McGonagall exclaimed in disbelief.

“That's impossible! You must be mistaken!”

“But that's the fact. I saw it with my own eyes. If there really is a misunderstanding, let me confront him face to face.”

Stared at by Professor McGonagall with a madman's gaze, Scrimgeour bit the bullet and said.

To help Dumbledore clear his name, Professor McGonagall led Scrimgeour and his team on a search of the castle, but to no avail. This made Scrimgeour couldn't help but feel that Dumbledore had fled in fear of punishment.

After having Tonks and a few others stay to block Dumbledore, Scrimgeour returned to the Auror office with the rest, only to find that Dawlish and Williamson, who had already returned, were staring at a Pensieve with complex expressions.

“What's going on?” Scrimgeour asked the two.

Hearing Scrimgeour's inquiry, the two finally raised their heads, “We found his house-elf in Crouch Manor. After extracting his memory, the specifics... um... see for yourself.”

When Scrimgeour emerged from the memory, his face changed like a palette, becoming extremely colorful. The content was even more indescribable. Um, so Dumbledore's other side was actually like this.

As for the authenticity of this memory, Scrimgeour, with his limited imagination, really didn't know which normal person could weave such an abstract memory!