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Chapter 472: Before the Start of Term
🕑 Added 2025-02-09 13:36:11 +0000 UTCKyle didn’t find out why Chris had to rush back to the Ministry of Magic overnight until the following evening. In short, the Ministry was severely understaffed, and the few employees in the Department of International Magical Cooperation couldn’t manage the influx of work. Nearly everyone who could be spared had been called in to assist.
Even Mr. Weasley wasn’t exempt. For an entire week, he left at dawn and didn’t return until late at night.
During this time, Kyle had most of his meals at the Weasleys' house. Each time he went, Fred and George would snicker nearby, unable to resist teasing him. They’d been like this since their return from camp, all because of the time Kyle and Cedric had conspired to stuff them into a suitcase. Cedric escaped their teasing since he lived farther from The Burrow, leaving Kyle to endure their constant jibes.
Finally, fed up, Kyle promised to take them on a proper “tour” inside the suitcase when school began. This managed to quiet them down, at least for a few days.
Around this time, a major row broke out between Percy and Mrs. Weasley. The cause was another article by Rita Skeeter, who somehow got wind of the rumor that Mr. Weasley had supposedly focused only on helping a few French students to curry favor with the Beauxbatons headmistress, ignoring the deaths of a dozen wizards. Anyone with common sense could tell it was a fabrication, but Percy took it at face value and even criticized Mr. Weasley’s judgment over breakfast, much to the irritation of Bill and Charlie.
Mrs. Weasley, furious, gave Percy a scolding he wouldn’t soon forget, while Charlie “demonstrated” exactly what a dragon keeper could do. Percy fled to the Ministry of Magic mid-meal, sporting a pair of black eyes.
“Don’t pay him any mind,” Bill told Harry and the others afterward. “Rita Skeeter never writes anything good about anyone. She’s got a knack for twisting facts, and unfortunately, too many people without any brains believe her.”
Before Harry knew it, the last day of the holidays had arrived, but he still hadn’t received any letters from Sirius or Lupin. That morning, Kyle made a trip to 12 Grimmauld Place, but it was empty, and the House-elf was nowhere to be found.
There had been no updates from the Ministry, either; evidently, Sirius’s retrial had been put on hold. Fudge seemed reluctant to take on Crouch just yet, especially with the ongoing fallout from the Quidditch World Cup.
It made sense, though—the Ministry was in turmoil, and every day, the Department of International Magical Cooperation received an influx of angry letters. If it weren’t for Crouch as a public scapegoat, all the letters complaining about the lack of safety at the World Cup and demanding compensation would likely have been directed straight to Fudge’s office. The last thing Fudge wanted was to spend his days sorting through shouting letters.
By the time Kyle returned to St. Catchpole Village, it was almost noon. Chris had dropped by briefly, but then hurried off with Charlie, who’d been called to Romania for an urgent assignment. With only one day left in his holiday, Charlie knew he could save travel time by using the Ministry’s Portkey.
Mr. Weasley, on the other hand, didn’t return home until late that night, looking utterly exhausted.
“Things are getting out of hand,” Mr. Weasley said, sinking into an armchair by the fireplace and listlessly pushing a bit of cauliflower around on his plate. “Rita Skeeter’s been snooping around all week, looking for more Ministry drama to report, and her articles are stirring up endless trouble for us.”
“And Malfoy, Dad…” Bill asked. “What happened to him? Was he sent to Azkaban?”
“I wish,” Mr. Weasley sighed. “At the trial, he insisted it was just a ‘momentary loss of composure’ after his team lost. Claimed he hadn’t realized it would cause such a stir.”
“‘Momentary loss of composure’?” Bill said angrily. “They used the Cruciatus Curse!”
“I know, but we’ve got no way to prove it,” Mr. Weasley replied. “And remember, his spell didn’t work, so we can’t use Prior Incantato to reveal it.”
“A number of jury members also decided to believe Malfoy’s story. He claimed that the real mastermind was an escaped Death Eater who either used the Imperius Curse on him to try to kill Harry or was the one who cast the Killing Curse and conjured the Dark Mark. And conveniently, Malfoy had already been arrested by the time the Dark Mark appeared, supposedly proving he wasn’t involved.”
“That’s rubbish… And Headmistress Maxime—did she agree with that story?” Bill asked.
“The Ministry is still in negotiations with her,” Mr. Weasley explained. “That’s why Malfoy and his lot haven’t been released yet. Even though he donated a large sum of gold and offered to cover all the damages, Headmaster Maxime brought in the French Minister of Magic, demanding an official explanation. She even threatened to withdraw from certain events if she didn’t get it.”
Mr. Weasley paused, then added, “Both Headmaster Maxime and the French Minister of Magic are standing firm, and it’s giving Fudge a major headache.”
“I get it,” Kyle nodded. “He doesn’t want to harm his international standing, but he doesn’t want to miss out on Malfoy’s gold either…”
“Exactly,” Mr. Weasley said, pouring himself a small glass of Firewhiskey. “But either way, Malfoy’s in for it this time. I’ve heard the amount he’s pledged in compensation is no small sum. He’s also got to face Beauxbatons… word is the Malfoys are already selling off some of their shops in Diagon Alley.”
“He deserves Azkaban!” Ron said furiously. “I’d love to see Draco Malfoy try to act so arrogant then.”
Mr. Weasley didn’t respond immediately. He knew that if the Cruciatus Curse had been proven from the start, Lucius Malfoy wouldn’t have a chance to wriggle free. But as it was, years of careful scheming—and plenty of Galleons—had paid off for him. Malfoy always had someone ready to defend him, as long as he hadn’t made an irredeemable mistake. And the sudden appearance of the Dark Mark had given him the perfect excuse to slip away from direct blame.
“I think you should all go upstairs and check if you’ve packed everything,” Mrs. Weasley interjected, breaking up the conversation. “Go on now, stop talking about Malfoy and give your father a rest.”
“Alright…” Everyone took their things and began heading upstairs.
Kyle had been meaning to ask if there was any news about Sirius from the Ministry, but seeing the exhaustion on Mr. Weasley’s face, he decided to hold back.
