'A misunderstanding? What misunderstanding?'
Harry was thoroughly confused, his eyebrows were wrinkling as he tried to process Percy's words.
Harry was well aware that the Ministry of Magic and Hogwarts especially Professor Dumbledore were now practically at each other's throats. The conflict had grown so severe that Fudge had even used his authority to strip Professor Dumbledore of his position as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot.
But what specific misunderstanding could Percy possibly be referring to? What was being misunderstood, and by whom?
And why was Percy looking directly at him while saying this? Harry blinked several times, feeling increasingly unsettled. He was vaguely sensing something lurking beneath Percy's words but was unable to grasp it clearly enough to name it.
"You know, all these years, the Ministry of Magic and Hogwarts have maintained excellent, cooperative relations, Professor Watson—"
Percy said with forced earnestness, his voice taking on a rehearsed tone, as if he were reciting talking points he'd memorized. His posture was stiff, formal, almost bureaucratic.
"Minister Fudge fully respects Hogwarts' traditional rights and autonomy, respects Professor Dumbledore and you personally, acknowledges your expertise and contributions.
But surely you must understand that the Ministry cannot simply stand by passively and watch the wizarding world descend into chaos and disorder, cannot watch innocent members of the public fall into widespread panic and fear because of a..."
Percy's eyes flickered nervously, darting away from Watson's steady gaze for just a moment before returning.
"Because of an unverifiable rumor."
'An unverifiable rumor... causing panic in the wizarding world?'
The words echoed in Harry's mind. At this moment, if Harry still didn't understand exactly what Ron's brother was heavily implying, he would be utterly, completely stupid!
CRASH!
Harry knocked over his chair with ferocious force. He stood up with even more explosive agitation than Hermione had shown earlier, his entire body was rigid with fury. Ron also stared at Percy with utter incredulity, his mouth falling open, his face went pale as he clearly understood exactly what his brother was saying.
"You think I'm lying!"
Harry's face had turned an awful gray color, all the blood was draining from his face. Whatever small amount of goodwill he'd accumulated in his heart for Ron's brother over the years vanished completely in an instant, burned away by hot anger.
He said harshly, his voice shaking with rage, "You think I'm fabricating lies, making up stories, don't you, Percy? You think I'm either crazy or deliberately spreading false information? That Voldemort didn't really come back at all??"
"Oh, don't be angry, Harry—"
The suddenly tense, fiery atmosphere in the previously calm office made Percy unable to remain comfortably seated. He stood up hesitantly, somewhat ashamed to face the furious, betrayed glares of all three young people directed at him. But he still pressed forward.
"I'm not saying you're deliberately lying or being malicious, it's just... there's no concrete evidence to support your claims, is there? Of course, I know you were all under tremendous pressure at the time, in an incredibly stressful situation."
His voice took on a condescending, explanatory tone.
"You, Hermione, and Ron were all underwater during a dangerous task, feeling naturally nervous and frightened, your judgment potentially impaired by stress and fear... so perhaps you simply didn't see through that dark witch's plot and deception.
I mean Cliodna, that evil, manipulative woman. Everything—the entire crisis stemmed from her personal schemes and selfish ambitions. She was the mastermind, not some—"
"Nonsense! Complete and utter nonsense!"
Harry snapped.
"We saw Voldemort come back to life with our own eyes—watched it happen right in front of us! Cliodna was only following his orders, acting as his servant! If you can't even understand that basic fact, then you're not just wrong—you're truly pathetic!"
"I can testify that Harry's words are absolutely correct!"
Ron also glared angrily at his brother.
"You came to Hogwarts secretly, didn't you? Sneaking around behind everyone's back?"
Ron's voice grew sharper. "Dad would never allow you to come here and spout such complete rubbish! He'd be ashamed of you! Does Mum know you're doing Fudge's dirty work?"
Hermione said nothing more, having apparently decided words were wasted on Percy at this point. She only stared coldly at him with profound disappointment, though ironically, she had actually been the closest to Percy among the Weasley siblings in the past.
"There's no evidence! No proof!"
Harry and Ron's rudeness and open disrespect also triggered anger in Percy; his own temper rose to match theirs. Pride made him defensive. He raised his voice significantly to emphasize his point.
"Only you three are saying this happened—no one else can verify your story! But the Ministry has obtained Cliodna's full confession through proper interrogation. If you'd bothered to read that issue of the Daily Prophet from several months ago, you'd know that the dark witch has already admitted everything! She was behind it all! She confessed!"
"That woman is lying to protect him."
Hermione's voice was ice-cold, cutting through Percy's bluster.
"She's covering for Voldemort, buying him precious time to gather his dark forces and rebuild his army while the Ministry looks the other way and pretends he doesn't exist."
"Well said, Hermione! Exactly right!"
Harry loudly agreed, his voice ringing with vindication.
"Evidence... How utterly ridiculous, Percy! How convenient! Have you already forgotten about Barty Crouch and Igor Karkaroff? One was driven to death by Voldemort's curse! The other was killed by Death Eaters that Voldemort summoned!"
"Evidence, Harry! Physical evidence!"
Percy stubbornly insisted.
"Only you three claim to have seen these things happen! Honestly, it's completely absurd when you think about it logically. If you knew anything about Mr. Crouch's personal history, you'd know that fourteen years ago he personally sent his own good-for-nothing Death Eater son to prison!
And his son eventually died in Azkaban years ago. Many Dementors witnessed the death, and the Ministry has official records of it in the archives. It's a documented fact!"
Percy's voice grew more confident, more convinced of his own argument.
"That's your biggest flaw, Harry, Ron, Hermione! Barty Crouch Jr. died long ago! It's impossible for him to have been involved! Perhaps you heard some fragments of information about him somewhere, picked up stories, and in your frightened, confused state after your underwater ordeal, you mistook Cliodna's for You-Know-Who and those Death Eaters!"
An unimaginable fury erupted from the deepest depths of Harry's heart like a volcanic explosion. It instantly overwhelmed his rational consciousness, drowning out everything else.
Harry unconsciously shook his right sleeve, his hand was moving automatically toward his wand, wanting desperately to draw it and give Percy a good, painful curse—something to make him hurt, make him understand, make him shut up but before his fingers could close around the wood—
"Harry! Stop!"
Professor Watson's sharp shout cut through the red haze clouding Harry's mind. It made Harry shift his gaze toward the source of the commanding voice.
But the moment his furious eyes met Professor Watson's sharp purple eyes, something terrible happened. An even more intense fury swept through his mind like a tsunami, crashing over his consciousness...
Why was Professor Watson remaining silent through all of this when he had clearly been personally present at Voldemort's resurrection? Hadn't he witnessed everything?
That miraculous Omniocular device—Professor Watson clearly possessed the ability and the evidence to let everyone see undeniably that Voldemort had come back, to prove it beyond any doubt, but he simply wouldn't do it!
The fury made terrible, violent thoughts surface in Harry's mind. He even wanted to fire several powerful curses directly at the sofa where Watson sat... or more directly, more satisfyingly, to rush forward and physically attack him, to bite Professor Watson's exposed neck viciously, to taste blood, to hurt him, to—
Bryan's expression suddenly became absolutely stern, all traces of gentle humor vanished in an instant. His sharp gaze was like a knife fixed unwaveringly on Harry's green eyes, which for just a fleeting instant flashed with an unnatural crimson light that didn't belong there.
An ocean-deep, crushing pressure the office, making the air itself feel thick and heavy. It made all the young people in the room unable to breathe properly, their chests were constricting as if they were being physically pressed.
"Harry..."
Hermione noticed the terrible, frightening expression that had overtaken Harry's face. She moved her lips uncertainly, her voice emerging with difficulty, worry and confusion, "What are you doing? Harry, what's wrong with you?"
"What? What am I...?"
The voice reaching his ears, Hermione's voice sounding concerned made Harry suddenly snap back to his senses as if someone had thrown cold water over his head.
The red haze cleared abruptly. He retreated sharply backward, stumbling, and if Ron hadn't been quick-witted enough to reach out and support him, catching his arm, Harry would have tripped awkwardly over the toppled chair still lying behind him on the floor.
Harry stared wide-eyed at nothing, his face was filled with absolute panic and creeping terror. His breathing was coming in short, sharp gasps.
"What just happened to you? Harry, talk to us!"
Hermione looked at Harry with concern, her earlier anger toward Percy was completely forgotten.
Just now...
Harry was breathing rapidly as if after intense physical exercise, his chest was heaving, his heart pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears.
He remembered those terrible, violent thoughts that had surfaced in his mind like monsters from deep water. He had wanted to attack Percy because of his nonsensical words—that impulse made sense, was justified by the anger.
But he had also wanted to... to kill Professor Watson. To physically hurt him. To taste his blood.
The realization made him feel sick.
"I—I was just—I don't—"
Under everyone's concentrated, worried gaze, Harry couldn't properly explain what had happened, couldn't find words that would make sense. He also didn't dare to explain fully, terrified of what it might mean.
Harry's face had turned pale, all color had drained away.
"I just... I just lost my head in anger for a moment. That's all. I'm sorry."
Ron blinked in confusion—he hadn't been looking at the right moment, so he hadn't seen Harry's earlier demon-like expression.
Bryan's eyes flickered. He stood up slowly from the sofa, looking calmly at Percy who had just been engaged in heated sophistry with the three students, and suddenly couldn't say anything at all under his gaze.
"You want to convince me to accept Fudge's suggestion and allow Umbridge to take a position here at Hogwarts, Percy—"
Bryan said calmly.
"Unfortunately, I cannot agree to this request. It runs completely contrary to my own personal convictions and my assessment of what would be best for the students of this school."
Percy opened his mouth to argue, but under Professor Watson's invisible but overwhelming pressure, Percy couldn't produce any words.
Seeing Percy's unwilling expression, Bryan sighed secretly. It was a sad situation, a waste of potential.
After a moment's thought, he turned and walked to his desk, opening the top drawer and taking out a thick envelope sealed with wax.
"Can you do me a favor, Percy? A simple errand?"
"What?" Percy looked at the envelope blankly, confused by the sudden shift.
"On your way back to London, take a short detour through Diagon Alley and go to the learning machine's alchemy workshop—you know where it is, I think. Help me deliver this envelope to Remus and tell him I have no objections to the people listed inside."
Percy didn't quite understand the contents or purpose, but he numbly accepted the envelope.
"I'm sure you'll miss Hogwarts' delicious food, won't you, Percy—"
Bryan patted Percy's shoulder with a warm smile.
"Go on, hurry now. You should still make it to the Great Hall in time if you leave now. Wait much longer and there'll only be picked-over leftovers and cold gravy."
Percy left, looking completely dejected and defeated as he departed the office, his shoulders were slumped. But the three young people remaining had absolutely no sympathy for him, not after what he'd said.
"Now, it's your turn—"
When Professor Watson's voice rang out again after the door closed behind Percy, Harry's heart immediately leaped into his throat, choking him.
Terror flooded through his body. He even had a powerful, nearly irresistible impulse to flee the office immediately, to run after Percy.
Professor Watson must have seen his expression just now. Though he hadn't looked in a mirror, Harry was certain his expression had been terrible!
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