Veratia's Holiday

Ron's mouth dropped open, and he stood there stunned for several seconds, clearly not expecting his words to be returned to him so quickly, and that the counterattack would hit him squarely on the head.

What's this called? Wouldn't you say this is a case of "lifting a rock only to drop it on your own foot"?

His arm, which had been waving enthusiastically just moments before, froze in mid-air, and the expression on his face instantly switched from that of a life mentor to that of Kong Yiji.

"This—this can't be the same!" Ron struggled, his voice rising eight octaves. "I might break my neck if I fell off the broom! This is about personal safety! Yours is just—just a love triangle!"

"--!" Seamus immediately extended his index finger and shook it, mimicking Ron's earlier gesture, "Perspective!"

"Think big, Ron Weasley! You're contributing to the improvement of Weasley's Magic Tricks products and the safety of Quidditch players! What's a little personal safety? This is called sacrificing yourself for your brother company and technological advancement! Besides, Madam Pomfrey is a miracle worker. Even if you really fall and spend a few days in the school hospital, that's still valuable data for science—uh, for magical experiments! Maybe you can even write a paper called 'A Preliminary Study on the Relationship between the Critical Value of Broomstick Oil Viscosity and Flight Safety,' wouldn't that be a win-win situation? No, a win-win-win situation! You win the data, George Fred wins the direction for improvement, and the cause of magical broomstick safety wins the future!"

Everyone won except Ron, who lost.

Seamus became increasingly fluent, mastering Ron's theories of lofty causes, strategic vision, and future value to a degree that surpassed even his teacher's.

The laughter that had just subsided in the carriage started again, and this time even Luna let out a soft "heh" and couldn't help but laugh along.

'I—I—' Ron choked, his face turning bright red, and turned to Harry, ' Harry! Look at him! He's just being unreasonable!'

Harry was laughing so hard he was leaning against the car window wiping away tears, gasping for breath as he said, "Ron —I think— Seamus learns very quickly—and—his logic is consistent—"

Hermione shook her head and laughed, finally putting down the book she had never been able to get into.

"A brilliant demonstration of sophistry. But Ron, you've certainly dug yourself a very classic logical trap."

According to the value system you just used to comfort Seamus, Seamus's rebuttal is entirely valid.

"Traitors! You're all traitors!" Ron wailed, grabbing a Pumpkin Pasty and taking a huge bite in frustration.

Ginny chuckled and added, "Brother, it seems your philosophy has a wide range of applications, but it's prone to backlash."

Before going to training camp, have George and Fred sign a product testing accident waiver, and then buy a high-value magical accident insurance policy. That way, even if they fall, it will contribute to the Weasley family's financial security. See, doesn't this broaden your horizons a bit?

Neville spoke softly but clearly to the melancholy hybrid plant, "You see, sometimes humans are even more incomprehensible than jumping plants, aren't they?"

The little incident passed amidst laughter, and the train continued its smooth journey towards London, the pastoral scenery outside the window gradually being replaced by more and more traces of Muggle towns.

Most of the candy had been used up, and the conversation gradually shifted from teasing each other to more specific summer vacation plans.

"Seriously, Seamus," Harry took a sip of Pumpkin Juice, "That magical zoo in France, exactly where is it? Does it have any special animals?"

"Near Brittany, there's a small, not-so-famous protected area called Pupu Preserve," Seamus explained, his tone visibly relaxed. "My uncle said it shelters many Magical Creatures injured in illegal trade or conflicts, and many of them have rather bad tempers. He heard I do security training at Hogwarts and thought I might be able to reason with the hot-tempered ones."

He shrugged. "I guess he's after my gentle Charms."

"You can share your zero-report card with them," Ron said in a low voice, still trying to regain his composure. "Maybe it will have a deterrent effect."

"Or tell them about the rhythm you made while banging on the Great Hall pillars," Luna suggested earnestly, "That might be a kind of interspecies communication frequency."

Seamus took a deep breath----

Luna's words of comfort were worse than nothing; they brought back the painful memories of being with Aruba in the Great Hall.

It hurts, it hurts so much!

Amidst laughter and conversation, the outline of King's Cross Station came into view.

The atmosphere in the carriage unconsciously shifted from the relaxed joy of the holiday to a touch of melancholy at parting.

The train slowly came to a stop, and the familiar noise of the platform filled the air.

Everyone started to get up, drag their luggage off the table, and cover the owl cage with a cloth.

"Keep in touch!" Hermione hugged everyone and said to Seamus, "If there are any interesting legal cases in France, remember to let me know!"

"Good luck at training camp, don't actually fall!" Seamus retorted to Ron.

"Norway, it's a promise!" Harry reminded him.

"Give my regards to the Kraken," Luna said ethereally, her hat now reflecting the brilliant sunset.

They followed the flow of people off the train and through the warm wall of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

The platform was filled with reunited parents, excited younger siblings, and students looking around for familiar faces.

Seamus dragged his suitcase, his gaze unconsciously sweeping across the crowd. Then, he stopped.

A little further away, near the exit, by a pillar, Pansy stood alone, seemingly waiting for someone.

She had changed out of her school uniform and was wearing a well-tailored dark gray travel suit. Her black hair was neatly pulled back, making her appear even more aloof and distant than usual.

She was holding a book with the Slytherin crest on the cover, and she didn't look up.

Seemingly sensing the gaze, Pansy raised her eyes.

Through the bustling crowd, her eyes met Seamus's again.

This time, she didn't move away immediately, but paused for a moment.

Then, she nodded to him almost imperceptibly. The gesture was extremely polite, and quite ordinary, like meeting a reasonably diligent classmate in the library.

Then, a House Elf appeared with a snap, respectfully took the small suitcase from her hand, and disappeared again.

Pansy turned away, disappeared into the crowd heading towards the Muggle station exit.

"I think Pansy's not bad at all," Ron whispered furtively in Seamus's ear. "Look, she comes from such a good family, and her personality isn't bad either. She'd be a perfect match for your fiery temper—"

"Don't talk nonsense." Seamus awkwardly turned his head away. "I have absolutely no thoughts like that. Pansy is just an ordinary partner. Don't try to pair her up with random people."

Ron didn't say anything more, but just gave Seamus a meaningful look.

"Where are you planning to go?" he asked Harry, turning to him. "Should you go straight to Miss Malfoy, or to your uncle's house?"

"Let's go to my uncle's. It's been a while since I've been there," Harry said with a smile. "I actually miss them a bit."

He walked off the platform and took a taxi to Number Four, Privet Drive.

As the sun set, he stood alone in front of the door at Number Four, Privet Drive.

To be honest, although only six years had passed since Harry lived as a dependent in the Dursley family, it felt like eleven years to Harry.

He rang the doorbell, a strange thought flashing through his mind: he wondered if Dudley was still sticking to his fitness plan.

The door was opened almost instantly, so fast that one might suspect the person behind it had been peering through the peephole the whole time.

It wasn't Aunt Petunia's slender figure that opened the door, but Dudley.

He was still tall and imposing, but the aggressive, domineering aura he once exuded had faded considerably, and his face even wore a complex expression that mixed embarrassment and genuine welcome.

"Harry!" Dudley's voice was lower than before. "Come in, come in quickly. Mom and Dad are in the Kitchen. Mom's been a little nervous since this morning when she heard you were coming back."

Harry walked into the Entrance hall, and everything seemed the same: the gleaming floor, the closed door of the cupboard that used to belong to him at the bottom of the stairs, and the aroma of food in the air, but the atmosphere was completely different from before.

There were no whispered complaints, nor any disdainful glances.

"Harry, darling!" Aunt Petunia poked her head out of the Kitchen doorway, her neck seeming longer than she remembered.

She wore an apron with small floral prints and greeted Harry with a smile, "Was the journey smooth? Dada, don't leave Harry standing in the Entrance hall, take him upstairs to his room to put his luggage away."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry said gently.

Just as Aunt Petunia had said, his room was spotless, the sheets were freshly changed, and a pot of Africa thistles was growing lushly on the windowsill.

The walls that were once covered Dudley old posters of Dali are now bare, painted with a soft beige paint, just as they were before he left a few years ago.

At dinner, the atmosphere was so harmonious that Harry almost wanted to laugh.

Uncle Vernon's belly seemed even bigger. Even though they were eating at home, he was still dressed in his best suit and waistcoat, trying his best to put on the formal air of a head of the household welcoming an important relative. He kept urging Harry to eat more Yorkshire pudding and chatted with Harry about how successful his business had been recently. Of course, he didn't forget to thank Harry for the Jubilee Potion back then.

Aunt Petunia would occasionally chime in, chatting about Dudley's recent activities at school and his plans to go to college.

Dudley ate the most, but spoke the least.

Dudley's figure has remained normal ever since he used Harry's weight-loss Potions.

"I plan to stay here for a couple of days," Harry said with a smile. "I don't have much to do these days anyway. Veratia's still busy in South America; she'll be back in a couple of days."

"The Veratia you're talking about, is she that—" Aunt Petunia remembered that pretty little girl who was so domineering.

"You met her a couple of years ago," Harry said with a smile, "But she graduated a long time ago, three years ago, and is now the Minister for European Union Ministry of Magic."

"Oh!" Aunt Petunia's eyes widened in surprise. She never expected that the little girl would be promoted so quickly.

After dinner, Harry watched TV with them for a while before returning to his room.

Veratia sent him a message, telling him that she would be visiting Britain the day after tomorrow morning and that they would meet at the Ministry of Magic.

Two days later, on the morning of the same day, Harry arrived directly at the Ministry Atrium via the Floo Network.

The Ministry of Magic was much quieter than usual on the weekend, but a few staff members still hurried by.

The famous fountain still shines brightly, and several apprentice wizards are talking quietly beside the statue of the two magical brothers.

As he walked toward the Department of International Magical Cooperation, he clearly felt some gazes—after all, he was the famous the Savior, so it was impossible not to attract attention.

Veratia's temporary lodging was in an office on the Minister's floor. There was no nameplate at the door, only two silent guards.

They clearly recognized Harry; after nodding slightly, they opened the door for him.

The office was simpler than Harry had imagined, and the large floor-to-ceiling windows revealed a gloomy London sky—of course, this was a magical simulation.

A large desk with dragon claw legs was piled high with Parchment scrolls and several magical globes that were spinning slightly, one of which, marked with the South America region, was flashing Grim dark red.

Veratia stood with her back to the door, in front of the window, talking to a Philosopher's Stone's Stone phone that was floating in mid-air.

"Yes, Peru needs a clearer commitment of support, not vague statements. Tell our people in Lima that I've authorized them to use the B-level Negotiation Clause —no, not now. We'll escalate them depending on the situation after I return to Vienna next week. That's all for now."

She waved her wand, and the phone dimmed, floating back onto the table.

Then she turned around, saw Harry, and smiled.

"You're on time, Mr. Potter," she said, walking around the desk.

Today she wore a deep sapphire blue suit, the tailored fit making her skin look even whiter, and her blonde hair was styled into an elegant updo at the back of her head.

"I wouldn't dare keep you waiting, Lady Minister," Harry said with a smile, naturally putting his arm around her waist as she approached and planting a brief kiss on her lips.

She had a faint, cool pine needle scent about her.

"Busy with official duties?" he asked.

"It's never-ending," Veratia sighed, leaning against him. "Especially when certain historical issues like to play hide-and-seek in the rainforests of South America."

She stepped back a little and pulled Harry to a more comfortable set of small sofas nearby. The House Elf appeared silently and brought over hot tea and a small dish of delicate scones.

"Has the situation changed?" Harry asked.

"It hasn't gotten worse, but it hasn't gotten better either." Veratia picked up her teacup, her fingers lightly tapping the rim. "Voldemort's remnants are very adept at hiding and infiltrating; they're exploiting local social conflicts and the distrust within the Ministry of Magic."

At this point, she looked at Harry: "The International Confederation of Wizards is holding an emergency meeting next week, and I will attend."

Harry nodded.

Where's Sirius? Wasn't he at the department today?

"I just arrived. He seems to be dealing with some things. Gemma sat with me for a while," Veratia said with a smile. "What are you planning to eat tonight? I texted Cass— "