The Fall of the Ministry of Magic

By the end of August, life at The Burrow, which had been utterly unchanged, suddenly became lively.

Tomorrow was the start of term.

Thank goodness Hogwarts had not shut down because of the recent string of upheavals. Everyone could still go to King's Cross Station on September 1 and take the Hogwarts Express to school.

But it was hard to say how many students would still be willing to go to Hogwarts this year.

"I suggest you pack your things now." Mrs. Weasley set a platter of fried sausages on the table. Frowning, she said, "The journey to King's Cross Station tomorrow probably won't go smoothly. We have to take that into account and leave early. But that means you won't have much time to pack tomorrow morning."

"Don't worry, Mum. I packed everything I need ages ago," Ron said.

After spending two whole months in The Burrow, so cramped that turning around was a hassle, he had never looked forward to the start of term as much as he did now—

"We've packed too," Silvan said.

He did not have much luggage to begin with. His cups, washbasin, and most of his shoes and clothes had been made with Transfiguration, so there was nothing to pack.

"That's good." Mrs. Weasley put down the sausages and hurriedly turned to leave again.

"No, I still need to discuss how you're getting to Hogwarts tomorrow with Mad-Eye. Taking the train is too dangerous. It would be best to send you straight to Hogsmeade!"

It was not just Mrs. Weasley. Sirius, Remus Lupin, Tonks, and the others all thought the same.

Even though Hogwarts had not closed, anyone with eyes could guess that the Death Eaters would not simply watch the Hogwarts Express depart without doing anything.

It could be said that this