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HRA# CHAPTER 140
🕑 Added 2025-05-26 23:05:49 +0000 UTCPercy was genuinely well-meaning, and it was clear that he had been seriously pondering the issue for some time. With his current experience and knowledge, he had reached conclusions, considering Harry’s future.
“Thanks, Percy. We’re definitely friends, especially you and… ahem?” Harry said with a wink, pleased to see a faint blush creep across Percy’s pale face.
It wasn’t just because they were both in the Transfiguration Club. Harry felt that pointing out the spark between Percy and Penelope had given the red-haired boy a helpful nudge. Judging by Percy’s reaction now, it seemed things were progressing nicely between him and Harry’s apprentice.
Percy was frantically signaling with his eyes, clearly not wanting to reveal his budding romance in front of his family—especially not Fred and George.
“Anyway, thanks for thinking of me, my friend,” Harry said, stifling a laugh as Percy visibly relaxed. He continued, “The wizarding world can’t function without the Ministry of Magic. For most ordinary people, even a flawed order is better than no order at all.”
“I’m glad you understand, Harry,” Percy said with a nod, relieved that Harry wasn’t reacting like Fred or George would have.
“But have you ever considered one thing, Percy?” Harry asked suddenly. “The fact that we need a Ministry doesn’t mean it has to be this Ministry.”
Percy’s eyes widened in shock.
“No need to be so surprised. Let’s say, for example, Fudge steps down, and a new Minister comes to lead the British wizarding world,” Harry said earnestly. “If this new Minister is ambitious, determined to root out corruption and inefficiency in the Ministry, and cracks down on irresponsible behavior—do you think that Ministry would support me or oppose me?”
“Of course… they’d support you?” Percy replied hesitantly, glancing at his father.
“Exactly,” Mr. Weasley said, happy to back his son up. “Especially right after taking office, a Minister like that would need to tackle such issues to establish authority—or at least show the wizarding world they’re making an effort.”
“But there’s no new Minister right now,” Percy said, frowning. “Fudge is still in office.”
“He won’t be forever,” George interjected. “The Minister of Magic has a term limit. I don’t think that fool will stay in power forever—not when he’s accomplished nothing and is just riding on Dumbledore’s coattails.”
“Oh, George, eat your dinner!” Mrs. Weasley snapped, glaring at him. “Can’t you all just eat without talking about this?”
“Please, Mum, I’m begging you,” Percy said, grabbing her arm with urgency. “I want to hear Harry finish. This is important to me!”
“…Oh, alright, if it means that much to you…” Mrs. Weasley hadn’t expected such a fervent plea from her son. It had been a long time since Percy, now grown and sensible, had asked her for anything so earnestly. Muttering under her breath, she relented.
“Thank you, Mum,” Percy said, releasing her arm and turning to Harry. “Go on, Harry.”
Unlike Mrs. Weasley, Percy no longer saw Harry as just a younger friend of his brother’s who needed looking after. After witnessing Harry’s feats and talents at Hogwarts the previous year, Percy viewed him differently. Like most Hogwarts students now, Percy saw Harry Potter less as a student and more as someone who could already teach a class—and a reliable professor at that.
To Percy, Harry wasn’t just a friend who’d helped him in matters of the heart. He was a prodigy, destined to make waves in the wizarding world, and his opinions carried weight.
“Alright, then,” Harry continued. “George hit on something that’s a common sentiment in the British wizarding world. A lot of people think Fudge shouldn’t be Minister.” He shrugged. “And that brings us to another question: where does the Ministry’s authority come from? Why does it exist? Why do wizards follow its orders?”
“Because… the Ministry…” Percy faltered, clearly never having considered this before. “Because it’s always been there? Because it does a good job? We’re supposed to…”
He trailed off, muttering incoherently.
In Percy’s world, the Ministry was a constant, like the rising and setting of the sun—a natural part of existence, unquestioned and unquestionable.
Now, Harry was asking him to question why the world was this way.
“Everyone has their own perspective on this,” Harry said seriously. “I’m not here to spoon-feed you my conclusions. The process of finding the answer is what matters. It’s not just about magical texts—Hogwarts’ library has plenty of records on ancient history and the thoughts of those who came before. You should take a look, Percy.”
“If you’re serious about working at the Ministry someday, understanding the source and nature of its authority is essential. It’ll help you focus on what really matters,” Harry continued. “As for the current issue, based on what I know about wizarding society, the Ministry lacks real control and credibility. I think Mr. Weasley knows this better than either of us.”
Percy turned his gaze to his father.
“Well, how do I put this?” Mr. Weasley said, looking conflicted. “Remember how I came home last week? That night I raided nine homes and nearly got ambushed by Mundungus Fletcher?”
“Of course!” Fred piped up eagerly, having noticed the conversation. “Biting teapots, shrinking door keys—the usual stuff. It’s like there’s no end to it.”
Harry’s expression grew thoughtful. The Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office—Mr. Weasley’s department—suddenly came into sharper focus for him. And Mr. Weasley had been ambushed? Wasn’t he a full-fledged Ministry employee?
The wizarding world was even more chaotic than Harry had imagined.
“Yes, yes, endless work,” Mr. Weasley sighed heavily. “You never know what kind of trouble wizards will stir up. The worst part is, with magic, it’s often impossible to track them down.”
“So, the Ministry can’t really control wizards?” Percy asked, incredulous.
“It’s tough, son, very tough,” Mr. Weasley said with a shrug. “We all have magic. If a wizard decides to hide, it’s nearly impossible to find them—as long as they can stand the loneliness.”
“That’s what sets wizards apart from Muggles,” Harry said with a smile. “The Ministry can’t control every wizard. Wizards follow its laws out of habit and tradition, and because they need a stable order—someone to manage resources and public affairs.”
“For Muggles, an individual’s power is small. They can’t defy the government’s will, escape its reach, or survive alone,” Harry continued. “But wizards are different. Magic and individual talent narrow the gap between personal and collective power. Take Voldemort, for example.”
Silence fell.
In the British wizarding world, Voldemort’s name had a chilling effect.
“Ahem, Harry,” Ron coughed, perhaps used to hearing the name at school. “Don’t say that name, you know…”
“So, Percy, imagine this,” Harry said, turning to him. “If Dumbledore announced tomorrow that he’s running for Minister of Magic, what do you think would happen?”
“He’d… he’d win,” Percy said, picturing it. The answer came easily. It was Dumbledore, after all.
“Exactly,” Harry said with a grin. “He has the strength and the reputation. As for Fudge… well, Ministers have been impeached before.”
Percy fell silent.
No one needed to elaborate on Dumbledore’s accomplishments; even wizarding children knew his legend.
“Of course, the main reason I’m taking on the Ministry is that I refuse to carry this unjust accusation,” Harry said softly. “Maybe the Ministry has always operated this way, and other wizards who faced similar injustices couldn’t speak up. But that doesn’t mean the Ministry is right, or that we should let it continue like this. And do you know what gives me the confidence to do this, Percy?”
“…Why?” Percy asked, bewildered. Harry’s words were things he’d never even considered. He murmured, “Because you know you’re innocent? Because you’re just?”
“Neither,” Harry said, shaking his head slightly. He gestured for Percy to lean closer.
In a whisper only they could hear, Harry said, “Because… I’m strong.”
Percy recoiled, staring at Harry with wide eyes.
It was a harsh but undeniable truth.
Sweet words and empty promises couldn’t protect the people Harry cherished or safeguard Azeroth. He’d learned that long ago. Even paladins who wielded the Light to uphold justice didn’t rely on words—they trusted their hammers and the Light’s power.
Only strength could enforce the rules Harry believed in, protect those around him, and make his enemies vanish.
The world was complex, but sometimes, it was painfully simple.
After dinner, Percy thanked Harry and retreated to his room, lost in thought. He’d nearly drunk soup up his nose, so preoccupied was he with Harry’s words. Harry figured Percy would be wrestling with these ideas for a while. Unlike Harry, who was no ordinary child, Percy was still a true student, lacking the life experience to fully process it all.
For now, Harry sat on a small stool in the Weasleys’ yard, gazing at the clear night sky. The stars were bright, the view unobstructed, and he found the moment peaceful.
Then he heard the back door creak open. Someone approached and sat beside him against the wall.
“Mr. Weasley?” Harry greeted, turning his head.
“Oh, Harry, I’m not disturbing you, am I?” Mr. Weasley asked, rubbing his hands together.
It was his own home, yet he seemed to treat Harry as the host.
“Not at all. Is something up?”
“Nothing—well, actually, yes,” Mr. Weasley admitted with a quick grin. “I wanted to thank you for the tickets, Harry. That match was incredible. I’d bet you’ll be an international star someday.”
For his first Quidditch match as a professional, Harry had sent tickets to his friends and their families. According to Ron’s letter, it had been ages since the Weasleys had gone out together, and they’d had a blast.
“No need to thank me,” Harry said, shaking his head. “Ron’s my friend. We don’t sweat the small stuff.”
“Fair enough,” Mr. Weasley said, scratching his head. He wasn’t one for formalities. “There’s one more thing I wanted to thank you for, Harry—about Percy.”
“I hope you and Mrs. Weasley don’t think I said too much.”
“Not at all!” Mr. Weasley waved off the concern. “You’ve probably noticed Percy’s always had a clear plan for his future. Molly and I… we can’t really guide him on that.”
Mr. Weasley looked conflicted.
“Honestly, Bill and Charlie aren’t exactly serious types, and Fred and George—well, you know,” Mr. Weasley sighed. “Molly and I aren’t exactly stiffs either. I don’t know where Percy gets it from. You might not realize, Harry, but in this family, Percy’s the one who admires you the most.”
“What?” Harry said, surprised. “Admires me?”
“No lie,” Mr. Weasley said with a shrug. “It started before last Christmas. Every letter Percy sent home mentioned you—your feats at school, your… er, shaman rituals?”
“He really looks up to you, thinks you’re incredible. He’s even disappointed he couldn’t connect with the elements to become your apprentice,” Mr. Weasley said, a bit awkwardly. “Molly and I were shocked at first. We even went to Dumbledore to ask about you—hope you don’t mind, Harry.”
“Not at all,” Harry said, raising an eyebrow. “What did Dumbledore say about me?”
“He told me not to tell you,” Mr. Weasley said, bursting into laughter. “And you asked, just like he said you would!”
“Not hard to guess,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. “Doesn’t matter. I can imagine what he’d say.”
Probably something about sneaking around and causing trouble—the old man was sly like that.
Mr. Weasley laughed even harder.
“Anyway, thank you for what you said to Percy today,” Mr. Weasley said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes and clapping Harry’s shoulder. “If it was Molly or me, Percy wouldn’t have the patience to listen. Honestly, we wouldn’t know how to talk to him about the world out there.”
“You’re his parents,” Harry said, nodding understandingly.
“Exactly,” Mr. Weasley said with a wistful sigh. “So, is there anything I can help you with? I’d feel uneasy if I didn’t do something to thank you.”
“No need for thanks, especially after you helped me with the Malfoy situation—wait, actually, there is something,” Harry said, pausing as an idea struck him.
“No need to be shy, Harry. Just say it,” Mr. Weasley said warmly.
“This is perfect, then, Mr. Weasley—can you teach me to Apparate?” Harry asked eagerly.
“What?!”
Mr. Weasley’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.
“You’re only in your first year, Harry!”
“Second year, actually.”
“Even so, that’s not an age to learn Apparition!”
“I think I’ve got the foundation to handle it, Mr. Weasley,” Harry said seriously, eyeing the man who was now whispering as if they were plotting a crime. “I wouldn’t want to bother you, but Dumbledore’s been… a bit busy. When I brought it up, he, uh, ran off pretty fast.”
“Pfft!” Mr. Weasley couldn’t help but laugh, recalling Dumbledore’s complaints. “If it’s Dumbledore… well, I can’t just agree to this, Harry. How much do you even know about Apparition?”
T/N: If you find any typos or incorrect names, please leave a comment. Thanks, and enjoy reading!
