Harry Potter: Reunion with the Enemy

An ordinary rainy day.

The Muggle Prime Minister looked out the car window listlessly. The rain gathered into diagonal streaks on the glass, blurring the roads and pedestrians outside. The suspicious-looking sandwich and yogurt he had eaten at noon rolled in his stomach, making him feel very uncomfortable. A strange thing is that almost all unpalatable food in the UK claims to be healthy, and delicious food is harmful to the body. In this way, this unpalatable lunch is extremely healthy.

There was only the dull sound of rain in my ears. The secretary and the driver were silent. One just stared at the road ahead and drove attentively, while his secretary - a middle-aged man whose work efficiency was three or four times that of ordinary people, was sorting out documents quickly, and as usual, he looked up from time to time to see the surrounding situation.

The weather was terrible, and so were the people. The Muggle Prime Minister sighed inaudibly at the car window.

Today, he has to explain the mistakes made by previous prime ministers - because the blood bank was in urgent need and the number of blood donors was insufficient, the authorities had purchased blood from other countries for medical treatment. However, this blood did not undergo qualified safety inspections in the early days, and was not strictly sterilized after importation. At that time, the science and medical technology were not developed enough to prove that this problematic blood could spread diseases.

This led to a tragedy, and most of the people who used the blood were diagnosed with deadly infectious diseases. Now they are marching around demanding compensation and official explanations.

The Muggle Prime Minister covered his face. What did this have to do with him? He had not even been born when the poisonous blood was bought. The mistakes of the predecessors had to be paid for by the future generations, as if the troubles he was facing now were not enough. Inflation, rising unemployment, energy crisis, corruption...

The Muggle Prime Minister continued to stare out the car window. It was not that he had accomplished nothing since taking office, but to the public, if he did well, he was expected to do well, but if he did badly, he deserved to be criticized ten thousand times - even though these bad things were not done by him, but the problems were exposed during his term of office.

If there were no relatively objective and neutral political journalists like Dennis Creevey, the Muggle Prime Minister felt that he was about to become some kind of public food, being boiled in boiling water by the media every day because of all kinds of negative news.

Poisonous blood...what else can we do...we can pay compensation and apologize, but those who are sick will never be cured again...

The dazzling light brought the Muggle Prime Minister back to his thoughts. It seemed to be the headlights of another car - why did it feel so close? A question crossed the Muggle Prime Minister's mind.

It did not stop, but continued to rush straight towards him.

"Be careful!" The secretary seemed to have noticed something unusual on the side. The Muggle Prime Minister watched as this reliable assistant pulled out a piece of wood from somewhere - wait, he had seen this kind of strange-looking little wooden stick - in the moving mural in the office - could it be that the secretary he had always trusted was also that kind of person -

The loud noise of the vehicle collision exploded in his ears, and the Muggle Prime Minister thought he would fly, but instead, something shiny came out of the small wooden stick and hit him - he was held up by an invisible soft substance.

The vehicle was hit and overturned several times. The Muggle Prime Minister felt his scalp was slightly scratched. He felt a little dizzy and simply closed his eyes - what was going on?

-----

"The current Muggle Prime Minister was involved in a car accident?" Draco asked in surprise as he looked at the headline on the front page of the news. "He resigned immediately after the accident?"

"Yes, but his current secretary is Max, the director of our Auror Office - just like Kingsley used to be the secretary of the Muggle Prime Minister. Because of the protection of wizards, he only suffered minor injuries." Harry walked forward and took a look at the news content. "Maybe the Muggle Prime Minister sensed something unusual, or it could be that the public opinion and work pressure were too great. In any case, he has withdrawn."

"The Prime Minister and the Ministry of Magic should be in contact, so what is the situation now? I thought the changes would not be so fast." Draco opened the Muggle social forum.

"The position of Muggle Prime Minister is now vacant. The party will re-elect its leader, and then the King of England will appoint a new leader as the Muggle Prime Minister." Harry said rather unhappily, "That Andre - the old man who said those mushy words to you is from the same party as the former Prime Minister. If he can become the new leader, then he has achieved his goal."

"Maybe it's not a bad thing." Draco scribbled through the Muggle forum information that was in an uproar. "If he can achieve his goal now, then he doesn't need to listen to the goblins. I feel like he has a good chance of winning - he didn't arrange the car accident."

"In British history, only one prime minister was assassinated, which shows that our Aurors' protection is quite good." Harry continued, "That prime minister died in the cafe of the House of Commons, while other prime ministers were protected by Aurors when they encountered hotel explosions or shootings."

"Merlin, please." Draco frowned and took a sip of coffee. "Regarding the goblin and that old man's proposal to run for Minister of Magic, I have already discussed it seriously with my father in the letter."

"Oh?" Harry's expression became more serious.

"It's a nice idea, but it's not suitable for us." Draco spread out his palms. "Although Slytherins are often said to be ambitious, I think it's better to forget about such a huge goal. A big appetite can easily upset your stomach."

"Well." Harry looked relieved. "Like Slughorn, you may be more comfortable playing second fiddle, or exercising influence from behind the scenes, feeling in control - rather than standing out in the limelight."

"My father and I may lack a sense of justice and the energy to meddle in other people's business. For most troubles that have no reward, we think it's better to have less trouble than more." Draco didn't have much affection for Slughorn, so he just shrugged. "And if I had planned such a career path before, I would probably have been a model student carefully since Hogwarts, and joined the Ministry of Magic as soon as I graduated."

"Percy," Harry blurted out. "He returned to the Department of International Magical Cooperation at the Ministry after the War."

"Some things are indeed suitable for people like him." Draco replied, "If I am asked to study the thickness of the bottom of the crucible or fight for the rights of house-elves... forget it. If my father or I were elected, we would probably reduce the tax rate for the rich first, then streamline various boring departments, open up the scale of magical research, and adjust the commercial terms..."

"That's enough." Harry couldn't imagine any further.

"In fact, Kingsley was already the highest-ranking Auror before he was elected. Unless you are a wizard with a very high reputation - like Dumbledore, or have rich political experience, most people will respect you from the bottom of their hearts." Draco put down his phone. "I think you will be able to take on the position in a few years, provided that you want to, and there are no goblins messing around. Otherwise, being the minister will be a headache."

"Take office and help you lower taxes on the rich?" Harry snatched Draco's coffee cup.

"I support whatever policy you come up with 100%, even if it's a little bit more." Draco smiled, his teeth showing. "If anyone dares to plan to hit you with a car, I will make him pay. I definitely won't rely on you to call the shots--"

"Don't dream." Harry pinched Draco's face, "Let's go back to Gringotts' underground lake quietly and take a look."