Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

“There’s nothing in the papers at all — no word about the battle that night,” Bill said. “They’re keeping quiet about it.”

The kitchen was so crowded that evening it was difficult to maneuver knives and forks.

“The Ministry’s actually concealing all the information?!” said Hermione in surprise. Many Muggles witnessed the battle between Evan, Sirius and the Death Eaters.”

“Probably a hundred or more. The situation was urgent. I had to finish off those Death Eaters quickly, and I couldn’t worry about anything else,” Evan cut a piece of chicken on his plate, then looked up. “So, the Ministry sent someone to wipe the memories of all those Muggles who were there?”

“I’m afraid not. It was a little late when the Ministry got the news, and there were so many Muggles who saw you fighting, and the Ministry didn’t have enough manpower to deal with it,” Mr. Weasley replied. “I heard that Scrimgeour later went to find the Muggle Prime Minister and asked the Muggle Aurors to help deal with the matter, but the news still leaked out. Oddly enough, the Wizarding world hasn’t heard a whisper of it. Scrimgeour sent everyone out just to make sure of that.”

“In fact, wizards now know less than the Muggles do. Absurd, isn’t it?”

“And they still haven’t called a hearing about all the underage magic I used escaping the Death Eaters?” Harry called across the table to Mr. Weasley, who shook his head.

“Because they know I had no choice or because they don’t want me to tell the world Voldemort attacked me?”

“The latter, I think. Scrimgeour doesn’t want to admit that You-Know-Who is as powerful as he is, nor that Azkaban’s seen a mass breakout.”

“Yeah, why tell the public the truth?” said Harry, clenching his knife tightly.

“Scrimgeour may be powerless. With all the complications of the situation, he doesn’t have any good options,” said Sirius objectively.

“Well, telling the public the truth is the best option.”

“He wouldn’t dare; that would immediately cause chaos in the Wizarding world, and the Ministry would lose all control,” said Evan. Scrimgeour was now facing a similar choice to Fudge’s. Fudge didn’t dare tell the public that Voldemort had returned, and Scrimgeour didn’t dare tell everyone that the Ministry was powerless and the war had already begun.

“Isn’t anyone at the Ministry prepared to stand up to him?” asked Ron.

“Of course, Ron, but people are terrified,” Mr. Weasley replied. “Anyone who tells the truth or who openly expresses resistance will be attacked now. People are terrified that they will be next to disappear, their children the next to be attacked! There are nasty rumors going around; I for one don’t believe the Muggle Studies professor at Hogwarts resigned. She hasn’t been seen for weeks now, but I can’t say it, and even if I did, it would be useless. The Ministry doesn’t care. Meanwhile Scrimgeour remains shut up in his office all day: I just hope he’s working on a plan.”

There was a pause in which Mrs. Weasley magicked the empty plates onto the work surface and served apple tart.

“We must decide ’ow you will be disguised, ’Arry,” said Fleur, once everyone had pudding. “For ze wedding,” she added, when he looked confused. “Of course, none of our guests are Death Eaters, but we cannot guarantee zat zey will not let something slip after zey ’ave ’ad champagne.”

“What?”

“Evan will need a disguise too. You two absolutely can’t be recognized. Let me think … ‘ow best to disguise you both …”

“Yes, good point, you’ll all need to be disguised,” before Evan could protest, Mrs. Weasley cut in from the top of the table, where she sat, spectacles perched on the end of her nose, scanning an immense list of jobs that she had scribbled on a very long piece of parchment. “Now, Ron, have you cleaned out your room yet?”

“Why?” exclaimed Ron, slamming his spoon down and glaring at his mother. “Why does my room have to be cleaned out? Evan, Harry and I are fine with it the way it is!”

“We are holding your brother’s wedding here in a few days’ time, young man —”

“And are they getting married in my bedroom?” asked Ron furiously. “No! So why in the name of Merlin’s saggy left —”

“Don’t talk to your mother like that,” said Mr. Weasley firmly. “And do as you’re told.”

Ron scowled at both his parents, then picked up his spoon and attacked the last few mouthfuls of his apple tart.

“Evan and I can help, some of it’s our mess,” Harry told Ron, but Mrs. Weasley cut across him.

“No, Harry, dear, I’d much rather you helped Arthur muck out the chickens. Evan, could you check the shed? Arthur’s been filling it with far too many Muggle things. And Hermione, Gabrielle, I’d be ever so grateful if you’d change the sheets for Monsieur and Madame Delacour; you know they’re arriving at eleven tomorrow morning. Ginny, Elaine, you two, come with me to the kitchen. There’s so much to clean up.”

Under her instructions, everyone had to go to their respective areas to tackle their tasks.

The shed was a chaotic mess, crammed full of odds and ends, with a suspicious smell of petrol hanging in the air.

A moment later, Mr. Weasley slipped inside, looking furtive.

“There’s no need to, er, mention it to Molly, Evan,” he said, “but, er, Ted Tonks sent me most of what was left of Sirius’s bike and, er, I’m hiding — that’s to say, keeping — it in here. Fantastic stuff: There’s an exhaust gaskin, as I believe it’s called, the most magnificent battery, and it’ll be a great opportunity to find out how brakes work. I’m going to try and put it all back together again when Molly’s not — I mean, when I’ve got time.”

Evan watched as he deftly shifted boxes aside, pulled a heap of motorcycle parts out of a tattered sofa, and began tapping them eagerly with his wand. Considering Arthur had once enchanted an entire car, a motorbike ought not to be beyond him.

After watching for a while, Evan lost interest and went out first.

Harry wasn’t at the chicken coop either, and when he returned to the house, Mrs. Weasley was nowhere to be seen.

Evan thought for a moment and headed toward Ron’s bedroom. Just as he reached the first floor, the door suddenly opened, and Elaine stepped out.

She seemed to have been waiting there, clearly intent on speaking with him.

Sure enough, her wine-red eyes fixed on Evan, she said, in a tone that brooked no refusal, “I need to talk to you. Come in!”

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