The New Minister for Magic

On the morning of March 23rd, Harry was having breakfast in the Great Hall as usual.

However, just as he was chewing his Meiji, suddenly, owls fluttered in from outside the Great Hall Great Hall in large numbers.

Hedwig a dive bombardment, a classic Stuka dive, and tossed the parcel onto Harry's plate, scattering the baked beans in tomato sauce everywhere.

Neville was unlucky; he got a bean in each of his eyes.

"Why is it always me?" he said sadly, putting down his Prongs.

"Maybe it's because I'm worse off." Harry took off his glasses, which were covered in red tomato juice.

After Clean-up the table and tidying himself up, he opened the package.

Inside was a copy of The Daily Prophet.

When he opened it, he saw Sirius's handsome face.

The front page of The Daily Prophet featured a picture of Sirius.

The Godfather in the photo is dressed in a suit, his beard is neatly combed, and his hairstyle is equally meticulous.

Percy followed behind him, also dressed in a formal suit.

Below is a large character.

"Sirius Mr. Black has been elected Minister of British Ministry of Magic. The Muggle Prime Minister has sent a congratulatory telegram, and the Ministry of Magic of seventeen other countries have also sent congratulatory telegrams."

Below that was a line of smaller print.

"Former Minister for Magic Fudge has been impeached and removed from office. He is facing 27 charges, and Wizengamot is preparing to try him."

"Harry!"

Hermione ran over from the side, with Ron following behind her.

"Harry!" she gasped, waving a newspaper in her hand. "Did you see that? Sirius has been elected Minister for Magic!"

"I saw it," Harry said, picking up the Daily Prophet and smiling. "Looks like the good news really is coming one after another, isn't it?"

"I received a letter from Percy last night," Ron said with a grin. "But Percy said Sirius instructed me to keep it a secret and not tell you about it. He's planning to give you a surprise this morning."

"It was indeed a surprise." Harry genuinely didn't know about it, and he was genuinely happy for his Godfather.

Just think about it, only two years ago, the Godfather was a prisoner of Azkaban.

Now, he has risen to the Minister for Magic.

"Did you see that?" Draco said from the Slytherin's long table. "My uncle— Black Sirius —has become Minister for Magic, ha ha—"

Ron pursed his lips.

"He is indeed his uncle," Hermione said helplessly. "After all, his mother, Narcissa Mrs. Malfoy, is Sirius's cousin."

Ron rolled his eyes.

This guy is really something—.

"Oh, by the way," Hermione said again, "Dumbledore is back, and he asked me to tell you to go to the Headmaster's Office."

"Really?" Harry chewed his Meiji calmly, and after finishing, he stood up and said, "I'll go check on him. God knows what he's been up to, disappearing for so long—"

"Where's the password?" Harry asked, turning back halfway down the road.

"Uh-huh," Hermione drawled, having arrived in a hurry and forgotten the password to the Headmaster's Office.

"It's alright," Harry waved his hand and said, "I don't think the statue at the door will give me any trouble."

Indeed, the Waterspout Gargoyle didn't give Harry any trouble at all. It didn't even ask Harry for the password before jumping aside and making way for him.

Harry went up the stairs and into the Headmaster's Office.

The Headmaster's Office was still decorated the same way, with some exquisite silverware standing on a long-legged table, quietly emitting smoke and spinning.

The portraits of the male and female Headmaster are dozing off in the photos; some are lazily resting their heads on armchairs, while others are leaning against the frame of the portraits.

Harry noticed that the curtains were not drawn, and it seemed that the Headmaster did not know the time.

The office was quiet, everything was still, and only the occasional snore or sniffle from a sleeping portrait broke the silence.

"Harry?"

A familiar voice rang out, and Harry turned to see Phineas.

"What are you doing here so early in the morning?" Phineas said. "No one except the legitimate Headmaster is allowed in this office—did Dumbledore send you?"

"You know, Phineas," Harry said with a smile, "the Waterspout Gargoyle at the door won't give me any trouble. I can get into the Headmaster's Office without a password."

"Well, you've never been well-behaved, and you're a true Gryffindor," Phineas said, not with anger, but with a smile. "But you're also my most outstanding student, aren't you?"

"Thank you for your compliment, Headmaster Black," Harry said, bowing slightly.

"Oh, by the way," he said again, "There's a little thing about my Godfather that I'd like to share with you."

"What is it?" Phineas sat up straight. "What's been happening with my most distinguished great-grandson lately?"

"Oh, as I said, it's nothing serious," Harry shrugged. "Fudge —the former Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge, has stepped down, and the new Minister for Magic was elected last night—none other than Sirius Black, my dear Godfather."

"Oh, that?" Phineas yawned, then jumped up, almost leaning out of the portrait. "What did you say? My most illustrious great-grandson is now the Minister for Magic?!"

"Yes," Harry said.

"You call this a small matter?!" Phineas asked excitedly, pacing back and forth in the portrait. "Oh my, my dear great-great-grandson has become Minister for Magic! This is truly a joyous occasion—you know what? Since me, the Black family hasn't produced any outstanding figures, but now we finally have one—ha! My great-great-grandson is Minister for Magic!"

His voice was so loud that it woke up all the Headmasters' portraits.

"What are you doing so early in the morning?" Principal Dilys de Headmistress Derwent was clearly grumpy. She glared angrily at Phineas. If looks could kill, Phineas's portrait would probably be riddled with holes by now.

"Ha, Dilys!" Phineas said happily, "How did you know my great-grandson became Minister for Magic?"

There was clearly a moment of error on Dilys.

No, did I just ask him that question?

"I know you want to congratulate me," Phineas said smugly, "But it's nothing to celebrate. My great-grandson has simply returned to his rightful place."

Headmistress Derwent's fist hardened.

She roared and lunged at Phineas, along with the other portraits.

Soon after, Phineas was tied to a chair.

Just then, Dumbledore walked in from outside.

"It looks really lively, doesn't it?" Dumbledore chuckled, stroking his beard as he watched Phineas being bound with great interest.

"Professor Dumbledore?" Harry turned around.

"Good morning, Harry." Dumbledore stretched out his hand and gestured to Harry.

Harry greeted him, "Good morning, Professor Dumbledore— where have you been all these days? Or rather, where have you been for the past six months?" "Oh, something happened," Dumbledore said with a smile, "But nothing serious. I was tracking down Voldemort." "And the result?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore didn't speak, but instead pulled out a snake.

"This snake," Dumbledore said, placing it on the ground with a somewhat dazed look in his eyes, "I feel like I know it—hmm,

It's as if I know it, except— Voldemort has turned it into Horcrux.

Harry nodded and said, "Since the professor thinks it's familiar, we should try to extract Voldemort's soul fragment without harming it, rather than brutally killing it."

Upon hearing Harry's words, the large snake hissed at Harry.

It's breathing on it.

Without thinking, Harry took out his wand and hit the snake on the head.

"Don't breathe on me!" he hissed in Parseltongue.

The giant snake was clearly taken aback.

"Can you speak the language of snakes?" it asked.

"Not just me, he can too," Harry said, pointing at Dumbledore.

The giant snake sat up and glanced at Dumbledore.

"I think he looks familiar, but I can't remember who he is, ugh—"

Before it could finish speaking, it began to roll violently on the ground.

"Kill! Kill!" it hissed, yet twisted its body, trying to get away from Harry and Dumbledore: "You—get away. I can't control myself—. Hiss—"

"Professor, you know snakes too?" Harry turned to Dumbledore and asked, casually using a binding Charms to tie up the large snake.

Dumbledore always felt the answer was right on the tip of his tongue, but every time he tried to grasp it, the answer would sneak away.

Where exactly have I seen it before?

He felt he was about to find the answer.

"It seems its nature isn't inherently bad." Dumbledore nodded. "It's because the fragments of Voldemort's soul are twisting its personality that it's become like this. I need to find out what it really is—"

"It's a snake," Harry replied, then asked Dumbledore, "We've found six Horcrux now, haven't we? Hufflepuff's Cup, Slytherin's locket, Ravenclaw's Diadem, Riddle's diary, Marvolo Gaunt's Ring, and this snake."

"To be precise, there are seven," Dumbledore said with a smile, pointing at Harry. "Have you forgotten? You yourself were Horcrux that Voldemort created unintentionally."

"Oh, I almost forgot," Harry said, slapping his forehead. "Professor, how many Horcrux do you think Voldemort made in total?"

"As I said before, seven is a magical number," Dumbledore nodded. "Although you are Horcrux he created unintentionally, I believe his limit is only seven Horcrux. After all, if he were to tear apart another soul, his original self would have no reason left."

"I don't think he's thinking straight right now," Harry said with a shrug. "So, Professor, do you have any clue where Voldemort's true form is?"

"I don't know," Dumbledore answered truthfully. "The last time I heard of him was in Canada. As for his exact location, I don't know. I've been tracking him for half a year and all I've found is this snake Horcrux."

"It's not a complete loss," Harry said with a smile. "At least Voldemort is now a fugitive, and if we can capture his true form, we can destroy him completely."

"It's hard to say," Dumbledore sighed. "Optimism is a good thing, but don't forget that there are two Voldemort these days, one is Riddle the Riddle, and the other is the Voldemort himself—and the prisoners of Azkaban have escaped and left Britain. As for where they're going, I don't know."

Harry glanced at Dumbledore suspiciously, only to receive a knowing smile from the man.

Okay, okay, did you do it on purpose or by accident?

It's easy to guess where these Death Eater will go—most likely to America to join that effeminate Tom Riddle.

Dumbledore also seemed to harbor resentment towards the American Ministry of Magic. He had heard Veratia mention several times that Dumbledore had tried to enter the America to track down Voldemort, but had been firmly rejected by the American Ministry of Magic.

The reason given was that he had an improper relationship with Gellert Grindelwald — Harry didn't know why the American Ministry of Magic would use this reason, as it was actually quite damn undignified.

It seems the America will pay the price for their arrogance.

Boring, I want to see rivers of blood!

"Of course," Dumbledore said again, "I also want to thank you, Harry, for standing up to protect the students and professors of Hogwarts at a crucial moment."

"It's what I should do," Harry nodded. "Don't tell me you don't have a backup plan, Professor Dumbledore. Are you just going to let that Pink Toad Umbridge wreak havoc at Hogwarts if I do nothing?"

Dumbledore, then nodded and said, "My backup plan is you, Harry."

Harry took a deep breath.

What you said makes so much sense, I'm speechless.

Dumbledore smiled, his eyes, hidden behind his Half-moon Spectacles, Winky, it was hard to tell whether it was reflected light or simply radiant.

Dumbledore of the fact that Harry was the backup plan.

Although Dumbledore is the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Harry may be young, but he Harry Dumbledore's senior!

If not now, when will you ever be able to rely on your parents?

Trust your senior, okay?

Harry clearly hadn't expected that he, a mere sixteen-year-old, would be taken advantage of by the old man Dumbledore.

"By the way," Harry asked, "Do you have a suitable candidate for the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts?"

"I haven't considered that yet," Dumbledore said truthfully. "However, I think we could rehire Lupin. What do you think?"