I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 518 Scrimgeour's Visit

"Oh, dear Princess, it is a great honor for you to grace my humble abode with your presence."

At the entrance to the Burrow, Fred and George made comical gestures, bowed slightly to Hermione as she arrived, their faces full of mocking smiles.

"That's enough." Hermione glared at the two of them.

However, this was obviously of no use, as the twins continued to chatter in her ear, using princess and knight language to provoke her.

In the kitchen, everyone was distributing Mrs. Weasley's Christmas gifts.

Every year it's the same sweater, only the design on the chest is different. This year, the one he received had the Hufflepuff's Holy Grail embroidered on the chest.

Miss Granger's room was embroidered with a white crown.

It's obvious that Mrs. Weasley definitely changed it last night.

The twins gave him a large box of Magic Tricks products, and Harry gave him a crystal ball containing a Quidditch arena; tapping it with a wand allowed him to watch a Quidditch match.

Hannah gave him a colorful hairband.

Luna sent a necklace, strung together with various gemstones, which was quite beautiful.

When they sat down for Christmas lunch, everyone was wearing a new sweater, except for Mrs. Weasley herself.

Mrs. Weasley wore a brand-new witch's hat, its deep blue color like the night sky sparkling with tiny diamonds, and a dazzling gold necklace.

"Fred and George gave this to me! Isn't it beautiful?"

"We're getting more and more grateful to you, Mom. Now we wash our own socks," George said, waving his hand dismissively. "Need any parsnip roots, Hermione?"

"Oh no, I think it's a bit bitter," Hermione said, shaking her head.

"This is the flavor I'm looking for." George placed a large handful of parsnips roots, which looked like some kind of vegetable salad, onto his plate, then asked, "By the way, our Queen, besides some titles, hasn't she given any substantial rewards?"

Hermione placed some braised meat on her plate. "Yes, there is some. Apart from some useless medals, His Majesty granted me a small fiefdom."

"A fiefdom?" Fred's eyes lit up immediately. Everyone else looked at Hermione as well. "How big is it? As big as London?"

“How could that be?” Miss Granger said. “The royal family today is not what it was hundreds of years ago. What is called a fiefdom is really just a castle and the forest surrounding it.”

"My God! That means you now own a castle." Ginny looked at Hermione with fervent admiration. "She's so generous."

"Generous?" Irving scoffed. "That's just dumping bad assets."

"Non-performing assets?" Harry turned to look at him. "What does that mean?"

Irving looked around and, seeing the burning gazes in everyone's eyes, couldn't help but sigh. They were still too young.

"There's a castle in France that costs only one euro, would you like to buy it?"

"One euro?" Harry was taken aback. Although he was almost about to say "of course," since Owen had asked, there must be some conspiracy involved. "Is it some kind of business trick?"

"Of course, otherwise why would they sell it to you for one euro?" Owen rolled his eyes at him and slowly explained, "The castle is indeed one euro, but if you actually buy it, you'll be stepping into a trap. Because without exception, these castles are considered cultural relics, and if you buy it, you have to undertake the work of restoration, which is stipulated by national law, and restoring such a castle can cost millions or even tens of millions of euros."

"Europe is full of these semi-abandoned castles. They are a burden for countries, and the cost of maintaining them is too high."

"Yes," Hermione affirmed. "I probably won't save enough money in my lifetime to repair that castle."

"Alright." After hearing the reason, everyone's interest waned considerably, and Fred bluntly said, "Your queen is really stingy. In other words, she basically gave you a ruin. Merlin's beard? She might as well have given you an apartment in London."

"Oh ho, if you give me benefits, you're our queen; if you don't, your queen is just too real," Owen joked.

The twins were about to say something, but their expressions immediately changed, and Harry even stood up from his chair and ran out in a panic.

"It's Sirius," Ron said. "And Percy too."

"Percy?" Mrs. Weasley turned around immediately upon hearing the voice.

Everyone looked outside.

Outside the window, Percy and Sirius walked side by side through the snow.

His tortoiseshell-framed glasses glittered in the sunlight, and on his other side stood a familiar wizard.

"Minister?" Mr. Arthur stood up.

"Sirius!!!" Harry's voice came from outside the window. He rushed into his godfather's arms and gave him a hug.

"Merry Christmas, Harry," Sirius said with a smile, then took a package from his pocket. "It's for you."

"I thought you wouldn't be coming back this year." Harry didn't care about the gifts at all.

"There wasn't time to go in," Sirius said. "Okay, hurry up and go in, you're still only wearing a thin shirt."

Meanwhile, Percy returned home, and Mrs. Weasley immediately went up to him and kissed his cheek.

"Hey, the busy man's back," the twins teased playfully. Percy hadn't been home for almost a year since joining the Federation.

Especially given the current situation, it's likely to become even less common in the future.

Scrimgeour stopped at the doorway, leaning on his cane, and watched this touching scene with a smile.

"I apologize for the intrusion, please forgive me for visiting at this time without prior notice," he said. At this moment, Mrs. Weasley turned to him, smiling and wiping her eyes. "Percy and Sirius were back on business when we ran into them, so we couldn't resist following them to pay you a visit."

That being said, he didn't seem to have much of a desire to greet the others.

His eyes remained fixed on Harry, Hermione, Ron, and others.

"What's he doing here?" Harry whispered to Sirius beside him from a corner of the house.

"I'm here to win you over." Sirius's expression was gloomy and uncertain, and his gaze toward Scrimgeour carried a hint of disdain.

"Trying to win us over?"

"Just you wait and see," he said.

On the other side, Mrs. Weasley said hurriedly, "Please come in, please come in, Minister!" while adjusting her hat. "It's an honor to have you here. Please sit down and have some chicken or patchwork. I mean..."

“No, no, dear Molly,” Scrimgeour said with a smile. Owen guessed that the man had probably asked Percy about her mother’s name before coming in. “I didn’t want to bother you, but the world is cold and heartless. Sigh!” He sighed to himself, then added, “I was forced by circumstances. I had no choice but to come.”

"Don't say that, we all know your difficulties," Mrs. Weasley said.

"Thank you," Scrimgeour said, then turned to Mr. Weasley, whose expression was slightly stiff, and said, "No need to make a fuss about me, Arthur. Just treat me the same as you would in the ministry."

The atmosphere at the table noticeably changed; everyone's attention was focused on Scrimgeour, whose sudden appearance was unsettling. "Oh, the little ones have finished eating. Can you come for a walk with me?"

The plates on the table were all empty.

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance, their expressions somewhat somber.

"Okay," Hermione said, breaking the silence first.

As he spoke, he walked toward the garden behind the humble dwelling.

Under Scrimgeour's watchful eye, Harry and Ron followed.

Scrimgeour had not left by then.

"What? Is this something I need to do?" Owen looked up at the minister with surprise.

"Of course, you are of utmost importance. Also, Miss Stewart, please come along." After saying this, he followed Harry and the others out of the restaurant.

Before Irving could even take a step, Sirius Black was the first to move.

He completely disregarded Scrinker and left the restaurant with him.

Owen and Koyatl walked across the yard toward the overgrown, snow-covered Weasley garden, with Scrimgeour limping beside them. He looked robust, bearing battle wounds, quite unlike the previous two civil service ministers.

"It's beautiful," Scrinker said, stopping in front of the garden fence. "This garden is well-maintained."

His gaze lingered on Sirius for a second, as if he had been mentally prepared for his arrival.

“After everything that’s happened, everything you’ve been through, I’ve wanted to talk to you about it ever since I took office,” he said to Hermione. “But Dumbledore stopped me. I know what he was thinking; we have serious disagreements about the future of wizarding.”

"But these aren't the most important things. The most important thing right now is to convince people that we can defeat that demon whose name we can't even mention..."

“Not just you, Miss Granger, but also—Harry.” He looked at Potter. “People believe you are the savior. You know that. They think you are a hero—you are, Harry, whether you are or not! How many times have you faced that great evil whose name you can’t even mention?”

The important thing is that you are a symbol of hope for many people, Harry. Knowing that someone can, and is even destined to, destroy that great villain—that naturally inspires people. I can't help but feel that once you realize this, you might feel almost obligated to cooperate with the Ministry of Justice to give everyone confidence.”

"Obligation?" Sirius, who had followed, sneered. He knew this would happen. "I never knew such an obligation existed. Scrimgeour said you're making too many promises."

"Furthermore, if you were well-informed enough, you should know what state Voldemort is in right now."

“I know, Sirius,” Scrimgeour said, frowning slightly. “But that’s only if it could be destroyed by Muggle weapons.”

"That's not possible," Sirius said firmly. "Muggles killed him, but he can be resurrected."

"resurrection?"

"Just like more than a decade ago. In fact, Voldemort has already changed bodies three times, and if he can be resurrected this time, then this will be his fourth body!"

"Like [The Imposter]?"

"I don't think that's the same thing," Sirius said.

"Okay," Scrimgeour said, "but that doesn't matter. What matters is that the Mystic isn't dead and he'll be back, right?"

As he spoke, he turned his gaze to Hermione, "Darling, you shouldn't get too close to Muggles."

"I don't think it's a mistake," Hermione replied calmly, taken aback by the sudden mention of it.

"This is a very serious matter. And—" Scrimgeour's expression turned cold, losing its previous gentleness, or perhaps he was simply used to this expression and was merely putting on a facade earlier.

"Dumbledore should have told me everything he knew about the Mysterious Man."

Harry remained silent, staring at the goblin footprints around the flowerbed and the overturned patch of earth—the very spot where Fred had caught the little goblin now standing atop the Christmas tree in a ballet tutu.

"Suppose the Muggle weapon really did kill the Mystic," Scrimgeour said, "but he's died several times and resurrected each time. Why is that? What kind of magic is that? And what kind of magic does that lost ancient ruin hold?"

He seemed impatient and somewhat annoyed.

"That's enough, Scrimgeour, this is none of your business," Sirius Black said from the side.

This immediately ignited Scrimgeour's anger.

"Perhaps you've forgotten, I am the Minister of Magic!" he roared, causing the snow on the eaves to tremble and fall.

"Dumbledore has his reasons for not telling you these things. You should go and talk to him." Hermione remained composed and unaffected by Scrimgeour's emotions.

"So, you also want to be like your hero Dumbledore—to leave the Ministry of Magic?"

"I don't want to be used by others."

"You're being used by Muggles right now!" Scrimgeour snarled. "All this publicity surrounding you, all those titles they've given you, isn't it just to use you as a shield? If the mysterious man returns, who will be the first person he wants to kill? Her Highness the Princess?"

"We've always been Voldemort's mortal enemies, and I've never feared death." Hermione met his gaze with unwavering resolve. "Or are you also trying to use me? And they beat you to it, which has angered you?"

"."

Facing Hermione's gaze, Scrimgeour took a deep breath to calm himself. "I shouldn't have said that—it was inappropriate wording."

“No, that’s honest,” Hermione said coldly. “It’s one of the few truths you’ve ever told me. You don’t care if I live or die, but you care about me helping you defeat Voldemort, telling you his secrets, and protecting your rights. Does being a Muggle terrify you?”

"I consider it a matter of dignity," Scrimgeour said. "Some might say that serving the Ministry of Magic is a wizard's duty."

"That is, the Ministry of Magic must be able to protect its people, and that is precisely what I don't see," Hermione said, emphasizing each word.

(End of this chapter)