Harriet Potter

Cursing the Ministry of Magic became our favorite activity during the final days of the holiday.Rufus Scrimgeour, the Minister of Magic, came to Hogwarts himself on Christmas Day and tried to persuade me to become the mascot of the Ministry of Magic to promote their efforts for peace in the wizarding world.I'll put "taunting the Minister of Magic to my face" on my personal list of accomplishments.

One evening, a few days after New Years Eve, Ron and Ginny and I lined up by the kitchen fire for our return to Hogwarts.The Ministry of Magic arranged this one-off Floo connection to allow students to return to school quickly and safely.Only Mrs. Weasley saw us off, and Mr. Weasley, Fred, George, Bill and Fleur were all at work.Mrs. Weasley was in tears when he said goodbye, and the slightest thing of late had made her sad.Ever since Percy stormed out of the house on Christmas Day with parsnip root jam splashed over her glasses (Fred, George and Ginny all credited it), she has been crying now and then.

"Don't cry, Mum," said Ginny, patting her mother on the back as Mrs Weasley was sobbing on her shoulder, "it's all right..."

"Just don't worry about us," said Ron, letting his mother press a wet kiss on his cheek, "and don't worry about Percy either, he's such a stupid pig, it's no loss, is it?"

Mrs Weasley then put her arms around me again, sobbing harder.I comforted her softly, feeling a surge of jealousy and anger towards Percy in my heart.Even after he chose to support the Ministry of Magic and ignored his dying father last year, his family loved him as much as ever.If cutting off a leg would allow me to have such a family, I would do so without hesitation.

"Promise me to take care of yourself... stay out of trouble..." Mrs. Weasley whispered in my ear.

"I've always been like this, Mrs. Weasley," I said. "I like the quiet life, you know."

She laughed with tears in her eyes and stepped back.

"Then, be good, each of you..."

I walked into the emerald fire, shouted "Hogwarts!", took one last look at the Burrow kitchen and Mrs Weasley's tears, and was surrounded by flames.During the high-speed rotation, I vaguely saw some wizard's rooms, and they all passed by before I could see them clearly.Then I slowed down and stopped squarely in Professor McGonagall's fireplace, where she was grading homework and didn't even look up as I crawled out.

"Good evening, Potter. Don't get too much dust on the rug."

"I won't, Professor."

Then Ron and Ginny climbed out of the fireplace, and the three of us left the office and walked towards Gryffindor Tower.The password for the common room changed over Christmas, but just as we were at our wits end Hermione arrived, fresh from Hagrid, her face flushed from the cold, her hat and scarf beaded from melted snow.

"Have you had a good Christmas?" She smiled and looked at us in turn, and Ron's eye contact was a little longer.

"Well," Ron grinned, "There's a lot going on, and Rufus Scrimgeour even came to The Burrow."

"Really? What is he going to do?"

Ginny cleared her throat violently, and Ron and Hermione jerked awake.

"Harry, I have something for you," said Hermione quickly, "oh wait, the password - sobriety."

"Correct." The fat lady said weakly, unscrewing her body, revealing the portrait hole.

"What happened to her?" I asked.

"It's obviously a crazy Christmas." Hermione seemed to be trying not to let her eyes wander to Ron. "She and her friend Violet painted a few drunken people in the corridor of the Charms classroom The friar's Tuli has run out of wine. Anyway..."

She climbed into the portrait hole and Ron looked at me and Ginny and followed.

Ginny shrugged, "Congratulations."

"Speak to Ron." I smiled.

"I also have to remind him to get into the habit of cuddling in public." Ginny said and climbed in, and I followed.

What Hermione was going to give me was another note from Dumbledore, his next lesson is tomorrow night, and I happily put it away. "Great, I have a lot to tell him—and you. Let's sit down—"

"No, thank you. I promised to see Dean." Ginny said not very enthusiastically, turned and left.

The three of us sat down at a table, and I told Hermione what happened after they left at the party. Hermione's eyes brightened when she heard about Alvin, but she didn't show any sign after I finished talking. He didn't intend to discuss this, but instead led the topic to the episode caused by Malfoy.

"Do you think Snape looked like he knew what Malfoy was doing?" she asked.

"I think he knows. And he's upset with him for some reason," I said. "Malfoy doesn't look very well, he must be having a rough time. I saw it on the Marauder's Map." He didn't come home this Christmas."

"He must be terrified that he won't be able to complete the task given by his master." Ron gloated a little. "If Snape is helping You-Know-Who, that would explain why he's unhappy with Malfoy, wouldn't it?"

"We can't be sure that Malfoy is working for You-Know-Who," Hermione glared at him, "and there's no reason why he shouldn't ask Snape for help. Have you seen him and Snape on the map?" Shall we meet alone, Harry?"

"No." I replied, somewhat displeased that Hermione still didn't believe my judgment.

"Unless his mission is to be kept secret from Snape." Hermione looked across the room, lost in thought. "But since you think he knows what Malfoy is doing..."

"I'm not going to say I can read Snape's expressions 100% of the time." I said hastily, embarrassed by Hermione's natural trust.

"You can take a good look in his mind next time," Ron suggested.

"I can't even stop him completely now, let alone go into his mind to find something." I said, "If Snape's secrets were so easy to see, he would have been killed by You-Know-Who long ago."

"But since you've been in his head so many times, you should know something," said Hermione. "Do you think we can trust him?"

I looked at Hermione in amazement, she was usually the one of us who said the most to trust Snape.The part of my head full of anger and resentment about Snape - which is almost all - screamed "impossible", but what felt in Snape's head that day came back, so strongly Your emotions can never be faked, I am too familiar with them.Dumbledore never mentioned why Snape fell to our side. Could it be that Voldemort also killed his loved ones——

"Harry?"

Ron's voice brought me back to reality, and I mused, "I don't know...I don't find anything particularly suspicious. For now, maybe."

"Okay—well." Hermione sized me up for a while, then decided to let the subject go. "By the way, you just said that Scrimgeour went to the Burrow?"

The rest of the evening was passed in a friendly atmosphere as we collectively criticized the Minister for Magic.Hermione and Ron agreed that after what happened last year, the Ministry of Magic dared to come to me for help, it is really thick-skinned.

The next morning the new term started and the sixth graders got a surprise: a notice was pinned to the notice board in the common room about Apparition classes, available to all students who turned seventeen by August 31st Take this course.Hermione and I paid the registration fee immediately, and Ron whispered that he would wait for the money to be mailed from home, and based on what we knew about him, neither I nor Hermione would ask him to advance the payment.

Everyone was talking excitedly about it, full of longing to disappear and appear anytime, anywhere.In Charms class Ron revealed to Seamus that my entourage had Apparated, and I ended up being surrounded by students who wanted me to talk about Apparition for the rest of the day, and I was very uncomfortable with Apparition Truth be told, but it just makes them look in awe instead of losing interest.At ten to eight in the evening they were still asking me to answer detailed questions, so I had to lie about going to the library to return the book, and then I got out and rushed to Dumbledore's class.

The lights in Dumbledore's office were on, and the portraits of previous headmasters were snoring softly in the frame.The Pensieve was placed on the table again, and he held the edge of the basin with both hands, his right hand was still charred black, and it didn't look any better.For the hundredth time I wondered what caused the damage, but since Dumbledore said he would tell me later, I didn't ask.

"I heard you met the Minister for Magic at Christmas?" asked Dumbledore.

"Yes, he is not very pleased with me."

"Yeah," sighed Dumbledore, "he's not too happy with me either. Let's try not to let our pain down, Harry, keep fighting."

Dumbledore's little jokes always make me feel relaxed from the inside out, "He asked me to tell the wizarding world that the Ministry of Magic is doing a great job."

Dumbledore laughed. "It was Fudge's idea. In his last days in office, trying desperately to keep his job, he wanted to see you, and hoped you would support him—"

"After all that Fudge did last year?" Anger flared up again. "After Umbridge?"

"I told Fudge it was impossible, but the idea didn't die when he left. We met a few hours after Scrimgeour was appointed, and he asked me to arrange an interview with you—"

"That's what you guys got into an argument about?" I blurted out. "It's in the Daily Prophet."

"The Daily Prophet does report some truth now and then," said Dumbledore, "though it may be unintentional. Yes, that's what we got into a fight about. It looks like Rufus has finally managed to get you in the way."

"He accused me of being 'total Dumbledore'."

"He's so rude."

"I said I was."

Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again, and I realized that the words conveyed a lot more than I had hoped.Behind me, Phoenix Fox let out a soft, melodious whine.Embarrassed by the sudden realization that Dumbledore's bright blue eyes were moist, I looked down at my lap.Fortunately, Dumbledore was quite calm when he spoke again.

"I'm touched, Harry."

"Scremgeour wants to know where you go when you're not at Hogwarts."

"Yeah, he likes to ask about that." Dumbledore's voice brightened, and I felt I could look up. "It's funny how he even tried to stalk me. He sent Dawlish after me, which isn't very good, I've already been forced to cast a spell on Dawlish, and sadly did it again."

"So they don't know where you're going yet?" I asked, hoping to get more information on the subject, but Dumbledore just looked at me over the top of his half-moon glasses and smiled.

"Yeah, they don't know, and it's too soon to tell you. For now, I'd suggest that we keep going, unless there's something else—?"

I opened my mouth, doubts flashing through my mind about Snape, Malfoy and Voldemort.

"No, sir. Let's begin."