Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

“What about Stan Shunpike?” asked Hermione. “They’re not still holding him, are they?”

“I’m afraid so. I know Dumbledore’s tried appealing directly to Scrimgeour about Stan…” said Mr. Weasley. “Anybody who has actually interviewed him agrees that it’s impossible he’s a Death Eater. In fact, anyone with a normal level of intelligence knows he isn’t. But he really shouldn’t have said those things at a time like this. I think it’s necessary to teach him a little lesson. The top levels want to look as though they’re making some progress, and ‘three arrests’ sounds better than ‘three mistaken arrests’. Of course, if it ends up as ‘three mistaken arrests and releases’, that would be terrible, wouldn’t it? But again, this is all top secret. …”

“Is there nothing the Ministry can do?” Hermione asked with a sigh.

Mr. Weasley seemed to think about it, then shook his head. “To be honest, I don’t think so. Scrimgeour is counting on Dumbledore right now, but Dumbledore doesn’t intend to reveal his plans to the Ministry.”

That was the right choice. Whether it was Horcruxes or the evil god, these were things neither the Ministry nor ordinary wizards should know about.

What could they do if they knew? Stop Voldemort? Don’t be ridiculous, they’d probably just fall into despair.

Evan felt that what the Ministry should be doing right now was to stabilize the situation as much as possible and prevent things from worsening.

Scrimgeour actually did a pretty good job in this regard, much better than his predecessor Fudge.

He took the right approach in maintaining public order, dealing with vampires, and winning over giants. Although he had indeed arrested the wrong person and sent the boastful Stan Shunpike to Azkaban, at least it served as a deterrent, stopping other fools from bragging recklessly about things they didn’t understand.

Since the news of Voldemort’s return was confirmed, Britain, as the core of the impending war, had remained stable. It had not suffered frequent disasters, direct collapse, social unrest or large-scale riots like other countries. This was extremely rare and precious.

Compared to Fudge, Scrimgeour had done a lot of work.

But he was not satisfied with this. As a veteran Auror and a strong-willed Minister, he hoped to catch Voldemort.

The Wizarding public wasn’t satisfied either. They, too, wanted the Ministry to catch Voldemort as soon as possible.

And that’s where things got awkward because he had neither the ability nor the means to capture Voldemort.

These unrealistic expectations only led to growing disappointment in him and the Ministry.

If things continued this way, it would only be a matter of time before Scrimgeour was ousted.

Moreover, Evan also knew that Scrimgeour did not have that much time left.

Once Voldemort was fully prepared and launched a full-scale counterattack, his first target would be the Ministry of Magic, thus declaring the official start of the war.

And if something happened to Dumbledore, the Ministry would collapse instantly!

That was the reality. Hoping for the Ministry to solve everything was a waste of time. They had to rely on themselves.

While Evan, Hermione, and Mr. Weasley were discussing the current state of the Ministry of Magic, Harry turned to Lupin with another question. He asked eagerly, “Remus, have you ever heard of someone called the Half-Blood Prince?”

“The Half-Blood what?” Lupin seemed a bit distracted, his mind still on what Evan had just said about his relationship with Tonks.

“Prince,” said Harry, watching him closely for signs of recognition.

“There are no Wizarding princes,” said Lupin, now smiling. “Is this a title you’re thinking of adopting? I should have thought being ‘the Chosen One’ would be enough.”

“It’s nothing to do with me!” said Harry indignantly. “The Half-Blood Prince is someone who used to go to Hogwarts, I’ve got his old Potions book. He wrote spells all over it, spells he invented. One of them was Levicorpus —”

“Oh, that one had a great vogue during my time at Hogwarts,” said Lupin reminiscently. “There were a few months in my fifth year when you couldn’t move for being hoisted into the air by your ankle.”

“My dad used it,” said Harry. “I saw him in the Pensieve, he used it on Snape.”

Lupin’s smile was a little too understanding, and he looked at Harry with tolerance.

“Yes,” he said. “James used it, in fifth year. You’ve come to Sirius and me last term through the Floo Network to tell us about it, haven’t you? But he wasn’t the only one. As I say, it was very popular. … You know how these spells come and go. …”

“But it sounds like it was invented while you were at school,” Harry persisted.

“Not necessarily. Jinxes go in and out of fashion like everything else.”

He looked into Harry’s face, as if he knew what he was thinking, and then said quietly, “James was a pureblood, Harry. I promise you, and you can write to Sirius anytime to confirm — James never asked us to call him ‘Prince’, and we never called him that either.”

Abandoning pretense, Harry said directly, “And it wasn’t Sirius? Or you?”

“Definitely not,” said Lupin. “Sirius is also a pureblood. As for me, do you think I would call myself a prince?”

“Oh.” Harry stared into the fire. “I just thought — well, he’s helped me out a lot in Potions classes, the Prince has.”

“How old is this book, Harry?” asked Lupin.

“I dunno, I’ve never checked.”

“Well, perhaps that will give you some clue as to when the Prince was at Hogwarts,” said Lupin.

Just then Mrs. Weasley returned with eggnog, and she poured a large glass for each of them.

Maybe it was because of the slight alcohol in the eggnog, everyone became quite lively after drinking it.

Shortly after this, Fleur decided to imitate Celestina singing “A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love.”

It was incredible. She had just been complaining about how awful the song was, yet she had memorized both the tune and the lyrics perfectly and sang it beautifully.

Elaine joined in, though she was only humming along randomly, not having remembered the lyrics at all.

After humming along, Elaine excitedly insisted that Evan should sing as well.

Mrs. Weasley coughed heavily, and once they had glimpsed her expression, everyone took it to be the cue to go to bed.

Lupin said goodbye and left. Evan, Harry and Ron climbed all the way up to Ron’s attic bedroom. Hermione, Ginny and Elaine slept in Ginny’s room. Fred and George were in their own, and Bill had his own space. Fleur, however, was assigned to Percy’s old room.

Mrs. Weasley was adamant that Fleur and Bill would not share a room before they were married…

The arrangement was a bit crowded, but it was actually okay, everyone was used to it, and it was much more comfortable here than Grimmauld Place.

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