A Definite Inquiry!

Percy arrived together with Arthur.

Ever since Mr. Barty Crouch's death, Percy hadn't returned home. Unfamiliar with Grimmauld Place, he didn't lower his voice upon entering. Arthur, too, was too engrossed in discussing the events at the Ministry today to remind him.

As soon as they stepped inside—

Percy's voice rang out at full volume.

The sudden noise startled the portrait by the door, triggering an ear-piercing, shrill scream.

"George and Fred are nearly adults, and they still haven't given up their prankster habits?" Percy's face turned green as he and his father hurriedly tried to pull the fallen curtains back into place.

Arthur sighed in frustration. "If this were one of their pranks, that would be much easier to handle!"

This thing was far more troublesome than a simple joke.

"Tonks, you've done it again—" Molly came storming out of the kitchen, brandishing her wand, followed closely by a set of floating pots and pans.

But upon seeing the two men struggling in the entryway, she froze, her words and movements halting.

Two men, no women.

And one of them—

Was the son she had worried about so much that Arthur had lost sleep over it.

"Percy?" Molly's voice trembled.

Percy raised a stiff hand in a small wave. "Hi, Mum. Long time no see."

"You're home for dinner tonight? Not working late?" Molly mumbled, a hint of grumbling in her tone. "You could've at least let me know in advance. Now I have to cook for an extra person on short notice."

But her face was full of joy as she turned back toward the kitchen.

Arthur, who had just lifted his hand to ask for her help silencing the shrieking old woman, let it drop with a sigh.

During dinner—

It was likely the last time that year they would get to eat Molly's cooking, so she put great care into preparing everyone's favorite dishes—including Percy's.

George and Fred immediately pounced on him, pressing him for details about what had happened at the Ministry.

They had asked Harry when he returned, but his response had been vague.

He had simply said that, under the Ministry's fair trial, he was quickly proven innocent. Although the issue of repayment had been unpleasant, the Ministry had readily provided collateral.

Something about that explanation felt off.

The twins didn't buy it.

There was no way the British Ministry of Magic had suddenly become that reasonable.

From Percy, they heard a completely different version.

Harry had used sharp words, overwhelming strength, and Dumbledore's unfathomable magical prowess to escape the Ministry's so-called "justice." Before everyone's eyes, he had single-handedly taken down the entire Auror Office, stolen the Fountain of Magical Brethren—and even looted the coins inside.

"Is that true?" George and Fred were stunned.

Ron was in awe.

Hermione gasped. "Harry, you told me it wasn't that dangerous!"

"Of course it wasn't that dangerous," Harry nodded. "I didn't use my fists, and Professor Dumbledore only conjured a cup of thick syrup."

Dumbledore murmured, "That wasn't just any syrup—it was maple syrup."

Hermione pursed her lips. "Conjuring food is impossible with magic."

Dumbledore quietly explained the magical principles to her. It wasn't too complex—just a combination of Summoning and food-related magic.

Harry ignored their little side lesson and continued. "We simply stated the facts, which worked quite well. The Head of Magical Law Enforcement—"

He hesitated, glancing at Percy.

Percy promptly corrected him, "It's the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and the Head is Madam Amelia Bones."

"Madam Bones was fair. The final vote ruled in my favor." Harry continued, "As for taking down the entire Auror Office—it wasn't as dramatic as it sounds. I simply worked with Scrimgeour."

"He needed to be 'defeated' so that he could let me act freely. He had no intention of opposing me."

Harry paused for a moment. "But yes, I did take the Fountain of Magical Brethren."

George and Fred were practically overflowing with shock.

Tonks clapped enthusiastically. "Harry, I have to say—you're amazing!"

"I've wanted that ugly statue gone for ages. How could the Ministry display something like that?"

Molly nodded in agreement.

"Tonks, you're an Auror," Percy muttered.

Even if she was pleased, did she have to make it so obvious?

Tonks tossed her head, her hair instantly shifting into a vibrant rainbow. "This is home. I don't have to act all serious. Percy, you need to relax."

Percy coughed lightly.

"That statue was solid gold, if I recall correctly," George started counting on his fingers. "How many Galleons could we get for it?"

"What's the current price of gold?"

Fred leaned in, counting on his own fingers. Then suddenly, realization struck. "Wait, George—we never actually thought about the price of gold. Probably because last year, we were still broke."

"That thing is worthless," Harry waved dismissively. "It looks flashy, but it's just gold-plated brass. No real value—maybe three or four hundred Galleons, at most."

George and Fred let out disappointed sighs.

It wasn't solid gold!

"Three or four hundred isn't bad," Ron murmured, pleased. That was enough pocket money to last him until graduation, with plenty left over.

Harry shot them a glance. "Forget that—Ludo Bagman ran off with the Triwizard Tournament prize money. That was a full thousand Galleons."

"He might not even have enough to pay back George and Fred."

"That bastard," George clenched his fists, eyes blazing with fury.

After venting about Ludo for a while, the conversation returned to the Ministry.

Percy recounted a rumor he had heard: "After Harry left, the Ministry was in complete chaos. Director Scrimgeour went to confront Minister Fudge—they apparently got into a fight."

"A fight?" Ron was confused. "Why?"

If his ears and reasoning weren't failing him, the Ministry's mess was all because of Harry. So why were Scrimgeour and Fudge fighting?

"Because Scrimgeour refused to stand against Harry," Percy explained succinctly.

Ron still didn't quite understand.

"Ronnie, you're going to be a prefect—you can't be this naïve," Percy sighed, glancing at Harry. "Even with Harry around, you need to learn to think for yourself."

Ron put his hands on his hips. What did that have to do with the Ministry?

"There are two main factions at the Ministry now," Percy elaborated. "One supports Fudge and wants to take action against Harry."

"But that's a minority—mostly just Fudge's most loyal supporters."

"There are also a few Department Heads and Directors backing him. Not many, but they hold high positions."

"But the majority don't understand Fudge's aggressive stance. They don't see why he's making an enemy of Harry—he could be a great ally to the Ministry, like Professor Dumbledore."

"The Ministry could've avoided this whole debacle. Offending a powerful wizard who doesn't always follow the rules isn't a wise choice."

Percy frowned, troubled.

Harry shook his head. "They just don't want to admit that Voldemort is trying to return—or that he still has a significant number of supporters."

The mention of that name chilled the atmosphere.

But soon, George and Fred stirred things up again, bringing the warmth and noise back to the table.

The next day—

Arthur drove them to King's Cross Station.

As they boarded the train, Hedwig and Baus flew in, each clutching a newspaper.

The Quibbler and The Daily Prophet—both had front-page stories about yesterday's Ministry events.

But their perspectives and headlines were drastically different.

The Daily Prophet featured a photo of Harry tipping Galleons into his pocket. The angle was deliberately chosen to make him look as sneaky as possible. However, his upright stance undermined the intended effect, making the composition feel awkward and unnatural.

"Robbery and Chaos: Harry Potter Wreaks Havoc at the Ministry, Injuring Dozens of Employees!"

The article glossed over important details, merely stating that Harry refused questioning, had an unpleasant exchange with Fudge, and then dismantled the Fountain.

It didn't outright say why—but the implication was clear: Harry, upset by his conversation with Fudge, had taken the fountain and coins out of spite.

Meanwhile, The Quibbler showcased a dramatic shot of Harry casting a spell, water exploding around him in a torrent. Even the camera lens had water droplets on it—suggesting that the photographer had been caught in the aftermath.

The headline was filled with righteous indignation.

"Forced to Collect His Own Debts—What's Wrong with the Ministry These Days?"

Rita Skeeter's article retraced everything from the Triwizard Tournament—how Ludo Bagman had scammed an unnamed pair of Weasley brothers out of their fireworks, stolen the tournament prize money, and then moved on to the matter of Ragnok's forge. The Ministry had promised Harry a share of the profits but had never followed through.

She laid it all out with brutal honesty, highlighting just how shameless the Ministry had been, even going so far as to cheat a child out of his rightful earnings.

"The Daily Prophet is getting more ridiculous by the day." Hermione slammed the newspaper down on the table. Baus, startled, lost his grip on the window ledge and tumbled outside, flapping frantically before managing to fly back in.

"But isn't Rita defending Harry now?" Ron muttered as he flipped through The Quibbler, scanning the next few pages—which, unsurprisingly, were filled with Lovegood's usual outlandish theories.

"Some people will never read The Quibbler." Hermione frowned. If she didn't know Rita was on their side, she never would have subscribed to this magazine.

Ron put it down, looking thoroughly unimpressed. "Honestly, those people should be grateful they don't read The Quibbler."

Hermione shot him a sharp glare.

Ron quickly backpedaled. "I mean, everyone at Hogwarts will believe Harry." He hesitated, then hastily added, "Except for the Slytherins, of course."

"Forget that—there's no new professor on the train this year, is there?"

Hermione huffed in frustration, then reached into Harry's pocket.

Harry's voice remained calm. "Uncle Remus isn't broke enough to have to sit with the students."

That's it for today. I woke up from a nap this afternoon feeling like I might be coming down with a cold.

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Powerstones?

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