The violent tremors rising through the soles of his feet, along with the constant metallic groaning in his ears, were more than enough to show just how old and poorly maintained this descending elevator was.
Thinking about it, that was hardly surprising.
After all, although there was indeed a subject called Muggle Studies at the wizarding school, the lessons certainly didn't cover how to repair or maintain Muggle machinery, let alone how to take care of an elevator.
If that were the case, then aside from that Weasley currently lying in the hospital with his keen interest in Muggles, there probably wasn't a single wizard qualified to teach such a subject.
In any case, setting maintenance aside, the mere presence of a Muggle-made device like this deep within the Ministry of Magic was already strange enough. And the person riding it was a pure-blood wizard who clearly held no fondness for Muggles...
That's right. Even though Cornelius Fudge was the Minister of Magic, he shouldn't approach anything with prejudice. But in the end, he was still a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.
That way of thinking had long since taken root.
He might not be as extreme as the Dark Lord or his Death Eaters, but deep down, Cornelius Fudge still carried that same long-standing instinct to reject, even resent, Muggles.
Alongside the dissatisfaction in his heart and his steadily growing thirst for power, perhaps this mindset also played a part in why he had gradually drifted further and further away from Dumbledore.
As Cornelius Fudge stood there in silence, staring into the darkness ahead, the sudden crash and violent jolt snapped his unfocused gaze back into clarity.
Bang!
Clatter, clatter, clatter!
As the elevator shuddered to a stop and the gate slowly creaked open, the long, oppressive descent through darkness finally came to an end.
Lifting his head, he saw that the space before him was no longer pitch black, but a crude corridor lit by candles along both sides.
Stepping out of the elevator, which had fallen silent once more, he saw that at the far end of the corridor stood an unusually plain black door.
A rough corridor paired with a stark black door—this strange combination marked the final destination of Cornelius Fudge's journey.
This was… the depths of the Ministry of Magic.
Underground, Level Nine!
...
Because of the Department of Mysteries' secretive nature, all kinds of rumors and speculation had spread among the wizarding world about what went on inside.
Among them, The Quibbler had once published a piece about it.
They speculated that Cornelius Fudge might be developing some kind of terrifying poison within the Department of Mysteries, using it to secretly drug those who opposed him, even going so far as to control their minds.
Perhaps it was precisely because of that article that the Ministry of Magic had taken such a hard stance against The Quibbler.
Of course, The Quibbler had no evidence to support these claims.
Even so, it only served to highlight how the Department of Mysteries, hidden deep within the Ministry, concealed secrets buried in darkness and unknown to most wizards.
The Room of Doors.
Yes, that was its name: the Room of Doors.
Blunt and simple, very much in line with a wizard's naming habits.
After passing through the only black door at the end of the corridor, what appeared before him was a vast, empty circular chamber.
And Cornelius Fudge stood right at the center of it. To be precise, the moment he stepped through the black door, before he even had time to react, he found himself already standing there in the blink of an eye.
It felt just like Apparition.
Just as Cornelius Fudge was still adjusting to the sudden shift, a low voice sounded beside his ear.
"Welcome, Minister."
Had he not been prepared, anyone would have been badly startled by the wizard who emerged from the darkness.
Adjusting the top hat on his head, Cornelius Fudge hesitated before speaking.
"It's been a long time. I believe… your name is Croaker, isn't it? Assuming no one has replaced you."
"I'm honored that you remember my name. But as you know, I need to understand the purpose of your visit."
"..."
As Croaker stepped out from the darkness, Cornelius Fudge didn't answer right away. Instead, he let his gaze wander across the surroundings.
Inside this circular room, everything was black. The ceiling, the floor, even the wizard standing before him, Croaker, were all swallowed in the same shade of darkness.
Yet that wasn't the most unusual part of the room.
What truly caught the eye upon entering were the twelve identical black doors. They had no markings, no handles, and were spaced evenly apart, as if embedded directly into the surrounding black walls.
Candles burning with blue flames dotted the walls. Their cold, flickering light reflected off the polished marble floor, making it look like a pool of still, black water.
And yet, despite all this, the room didn't feel eerie or frightening.
It felt…
Mysterious.
It stirred a quiet urge to uncover the unknown.
That was the strange allure this circular room held.
Drawing his gaze back, Cornelius Fudge, who was rarely seen without other wizards accompanying him, let out a low murmur.
"What do I want?"
"..."
Hearing this quiet remark, whether it was a question or simply an echo of his earlier words, Croaker, his face mostly hidden in shadow, only gave a slight bow. Neither servile nor arrogant, he showed no trace of tension or unease despite standing before the Minister of Magic.
He simply waited in silence for Cornelius Fudge to explain himself.
With a bit of thought, it wasn't hard to tell from Fudge's reaction and their exchange that this wizard named Croaker was the one in charge here.
And from his composed demeanor, one could also sense the Department of Mysteries' detached authority and its deep-rooted secrecy.
...
The number twelve carried a certain significance.
It appeared in the zodiac, the months of the year, the constellations, the disciples of Jesus, and more.
And this circular room had exactly twelve doors.
Even as Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge did not fully understand what lay behind each of them, what kinds of things or secrets they contained.
The only thing he knew was that behind one of those doors lay something extremely important to him.
That room was called…
The Hall of Prophecy!