Frame a Loyal and Honest Person for the Great Cause

Chapter 270 Frame a Loyal and Honest Person for the Great Cause

Picking up where we left off, Percy was skeptical when he heard that Harry's purpose was to offer a plan to capture Scrimgeour.

Everyone in the Ministry of Magic knew that Scrimgeour and the wizarding world's savior had a very close, behind-the-scenes relationship.

Upon hearing Harry say such a thing, Percy assumed it was a trap set to test his intentions.

Percy's expression immediately turned serious, his eyebrows furrowed, and he swung his hand sharply, saying loudly, "Please don't say such things again, Mr. Potter."

"I am Mr. Scrinker's subordinate, and I would never do anything to frame him."

Harry shook his head repeatedly upon hearing this, saying, "Brother, what you're saying is unpleasant. How is it a setup? My plan is truly for the greater good of the wizarding world."

These words were clearly a weasel offering New Year's greetings, full of ill intentions. Percy listened, but became even less convinced.

Without even glancing at Harry, he picked up the teapot, poured himself a cup of boiling tea, and said slowly, "This is not funny, Mr. Potter."

"Would things really be better for the wizarding world if Mr. Scrimgeour stopped being the sheriff?"

Harry nodded firmly, "That's exactly right!"

Percy, who had already brought his tea to his lips, suddenly stopped upon hearing this. He looked up and saw that Harry's face was solemn, without a trace of mockery.

This glance caused Percy's heart to skip a beat, and he realized that something was absurd.

Is Harry serious?

Percy hesitated for a long time, but finally couldn't hold back any longer and whispered, "Why do you say that?"

Harry, unperturbed, countered with a question: "Brother, let me ask you first. Fudge is always picking on Scrimgeour because he's petty, narrow-minded, and intolerant. Isn't that true?"

These words struck Percy like a dagger, making his heart pound wildly as if he had a live rabbit inside him.

He hurriedly turned his head, his eyes scanning the surroundings to make sure that only the two of them were in the room, before he managed to squeeze out a muffled sound.

"Um."

Seeing that he admitted it, Harry continued, "Fudge has no choice but to use those goblin aliens to guard Hogsmeade instead of many other Aurors, precisely because he's afraid that all the Aurors will follow Scrimgeour."

"I fear he might raise his arms and incite a rebellion, first seizing Hogsmeade, then Godric's Hollow, and ultimately overthrowing the Ministry of Magic! Am I wrong in saying this?"

This question was particularly weighty. Percy shuddered violently, his lips moved twice, but he couldn't utter a single word.

It just made his head thud heavily, as if a thousand pounds were pressing down on it.

Harry grinned when he saw that Harry had agreed, "Then it'll be easier to talk things out."

Percy, fearing Harry might say something shocking again, quickly said, "Enough! Didn't you say that Mr. Scrimgeour's demotion would make the wizarding world a better place?"

"If you can't answer, I think you can leave now!"

Harry simply smiled and said, "Brother, don't be in such a hurry. This matter certainly needs to be explained in detail."

He then clasped his hands together, gave a slight bow to the left front, and said, "That old man from Wissengamori has connections to the highest levels of society. Since you say that you and your brothers are determined to help Fudge secure his position, it seems that Fudge's position as minister is unshakeable."

"The wizarding world is in such turmoil these days, and the root of the problem lies with Fudge, who threw things into disarray. Why did Fudge lose his composure? It's all because he was wary of Scrimgeour, that tough guy."

"If we can devise a plan to strip Scrimgeour of his power, making it difficult for him to stir up trouble and compete for the position of Minister of Magic, Fudge will feel at ease and his actions will naturally return to normal."

"These fully-covered demons should go back to where they came from."

That's a really insightful and perfectly apt remark.

Unfortunately, it was Harry who spoke, causing Percy to furrow his brow and tap his fingers on the edge of the table more than ten times before finally raising his eyes and asking suspiciously, "But why are you helping Fudge? What good will it do you?"

"Haven't you always been—very averse to the Ministry of Magic?"

Harry shook his head repeatedly after hearing this. "Brother, what you said is both right and wrong. You must know that times change."

"If it were merely a feud between my faction and Fudge's, even if we fought to the death, it would ultimately be a matter between our own families. Whether we win or lose, it's no different for any wizard in the world."

"But now that these demons have gotten involved, things are very different."

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"As the saying goes, those who are not of our kind will surely have different hearts." Those idiots keep spouting nonsense about a fairy kingdom; do they really have the heart to submit?

"If they gain power, let alone dredging up old grievances, I'm afraid all the wizards in the world will have to hand over their wands and be chained up!"

"It's a shame that Fudge, that scoundrel, has been so muddle-headed that he's let a ghost into his own house. How can I stand idly by and watch such an act go unpunished?"

"If they weren't completely helpless against him for the time being, why would they resort to such a desperate measure?"

Harry's words were all very practical and insightful.

Percy felt that this was not in line with Harry's usual way of doing things, but he also felt that only Scarface could be so outrageous and calculating.

He lowered his head and pondered, weighing his words over and over in his mind seven or eight times. Finally, unable to contain himself any longer, he looked up at Harry and asked, "What are your thoughts?"

Harry leaned closer and whispered in his ear, "This isn't difficult. It might hurt people, but it won't offend the heavens. Just do this and that—and that and that—and it'll be easy to do."

His words were as soft as a mosquito's buzz, but to Percy they were like a thunderclap. His eyes widened suddenly, he gasped, and exclaimed, "That's brilliant—cough! Cough! I mean, it's far too despicable, far too insidious!"

Seeing that he was still hesitant, Harry laughed loudly again: "As the ancients said, those who achieve great things do not concern themselves with trifles. If you are indecisive, then I'll just assume that I misjudged you and never came."

"But that Sinknes is a seasoned old fox, and within ten days, he'll definitely use some tricks to trip up Scrimgeour."

"At that time, the old man will have made a great contribution and will surely have a bright future."

It should be noted that Percy was a man who had spent his life striving for fame and fortune, valuing official rank and future prospects even more than the incense offerings of his ancestors. For the sake of an official position, he was willing to sever even ties with his parents.

Now, provoked by Harry's words, an unnamed fire suddenly flared up in his chest, and his internal organs seemed to turn inside out. He had long forgotten about the goblins and was now preoccupied with fame and fortune.

His Adam's apple bobbed twice, then he suddenly straightened his back and said, "Alright, I'll believe you this once."

"However, this is not for my personal sake, but for the entire magical world."

Before he finished speaking, he revealed his true colors. His ears were already half-red, and his cheeks were burning hot, like two balls of fire, making him look like Guan Yu in a temple.

Harry didn't laugh. He immediately crossed his hands in a salute and solemnly said, "Brother, you acted for the greater good and are truly a role model for us all."

He then added, "When it's done, brother, just say that this plan was devised by yourselves, and don't mention me at all. Otherwise, if that scoundrel Fuji finds out, he'll become suspicious and create unnecessary complications."

These words struck a chord with Percy, who didn't refuse and simply sipped his teacup in agreement.

The two of them sat close together at the table, carefully discussing all the details, before Harry finally got up to take his leave.

When we came out of the screaming shack, the sky had completely changed.

Dark clouds rolled in like splashed ink, engulfing Hogsmeade and the Hogwarts Tower.

Just as I reached the stone bridge at the village entrance, I suddenly heard a loud "crack" overhead, as if the sky had split open, and large raindrops poured down, splashing up three feet of water.

Harry cast a water-repelling spell and then Apparition before heading straight for Hogwarts.

Upon arriving at the castle, he first took out the Marauder's Map from his pocket, found the whereabouts of Ron and Hermione, then put the map into his sleeve and headed towards the Gryffindor common room.

Upon entering the lounge, it was warm and cozy, with a roaring fire burning in the fireplace.

Hermione, who had been reading on the sofa by the fireplace, heard the noise, quickly closed her book, and stood up, asking, "Harry, did you see Trelawney? Did she make a prophecy for you?"

Ron, who was lying on the low table next to Hermione copying her homework, looked up and exclaimed, "We even went to Trelawney's office to look for you, but there was no one there."

Harry sat cross-legged by the fire and waved his hand, saying, "That Trelawney hid in the Hog's Head to drink in order to avoid me, so he went to Hogsmeade again."

"Although we caught her red-handed, we didn't manage to extract any real prophecy. But all this effort wasn't in vain; we did manage to pry out some other things."

He then proceeded to explain in detail the ancestral methods used in Trelawney's family.

Hermione crossed her knees and sank deeper into the sofa, lost in thought for a moment.

Ron widened his eyes slightly. "The Trelawney family has only been around for three or four generations? I thought they were a very ancient family of prophets."

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Harry said, "I haven't asked about his exact age, but I estimate he's only been around a hundred years old."

"So it must be the 19th century? Trelawney's great-grandmother was quite a legend—"

Ron muttered to himself for a while, then suddenly slapped his thigh and exclaimed, "Wait! I have an idea!"

Do you think it's possible that her great-grandmother was cursed? Or made a deal with some special being?

"Only by actively controlling death can trouble be avoided."

Harry pondered for a moment upon hearing this, then nodded in amazement and said, "Brother, what you're saying seems a bit far-fetched; there might actually be something fishy going on."

After saying that, he turned to Hermione and asked, "What does Big Sister think?"

Hermione remained silent for a long time, the firelight flickering in her eyes. Only after Harry had become drowsy from the fire did she slowly speak, "I feel—it's like a kind of inheritance?"

"Only by killing your elders can you inherit something—it's like the Elder Wand; you can only truly possess it after defeating its previous owner."

Harry frowned sharply upon hearing this. A thought flashed through his mind, and he suddenly remembered asking Rowena how she became a prophet.

His mind reeled, and he thought to himself: Damn it! If what my elder sister said is true, then everything fits together perfectly!

According to her own words, Rowena was not a born prophet; it was only after slaughtering a group of court wizards that she realized she could glimpse the future.

If we follow the eldest sister's reasoning, then it makes sense that Sister Rowena suddenly gained the ability of a prophet; it seems that there must be a prophet among that group of court wizards.

That Trelawney did not possess the same extraordinary prophetic talent as her ancestors, precisely because she did not kill her grandmother; if this logic is followed, it fits perfectly.

Harry's mind was in turmoil, a thousand thoughts surging within him. Salazar and Yuan Tiangang's cryptic conversations from the past seemed to come alive, buzzing in his head.

Hermione, ever observant, noticed Harry's unusual expression and immediately asked, "Harry? What's on your mind?"

Harry nodded. "Eldest sister is right. I was just recalling an old story."

He then recounted in detail the events surrounding how he had asked Rowena to become a prophet, and also poured out his own speculations.

Ron was stunned. He instinctively wanted to argue, but found that the reasoning was like an iron chain connecting a boat, each link tightly bound together. His tongue swirled in his mouth a few times, but he couldn't utter a single word.

Hermione frowned even more, and after only a moment's thought, she shook her head repeatedly, "No, that doesn't make sense."

"If the prophet's abilities were inherited through murder, then Trelawney would not have made any prophecies."

"However, the fact is that she not only did it, but she was very successful, and had a huge impact."

Harry was speechless, unable to find a flaw in his argument, and remained silent for a long time.

Ron glanced at their expressions and said, "Uh—Hermione? Wasn't it you who suggested the idea of ​​killing someone to inherit the prophetic abilities?"

"That's called a hypothesis, a hypothesis, you know?" Hermione rolled her eyes at him, annoyed. "And my guess is that the Trelawney family passes on something in this way, and it's not necessarily a gift like prophecy."

The three of them argued back and forth for the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, but they still couldn't figure out the whole story.

Harry simply waved his hand to cut off the conversation, saying, "Alright, alright. We'll discuss this later. Right now, there's another urgent matter that I need to settle with you two."

He then explained in detail everything, including the goblins' encampment in Hogsmeade, Scrimgeour receiving the sheriff's seal, and his own plans with Percy.

Hermione was so shocked by this that she couldn't close her mouth for a long time. Her mind was in a mess, and she didn't know which thread to pull first.

When Ron heard that Percy had come to Hogsmeade to counterbalance Scrimgeour, his face instantly darkened, and he lost all his smile.

Seeing their manner of speaking, Harry turned to Hermione and asked, "Big sister, do you have any plans?"

Hermione frowned slightly, bit her lower lip, pondered for a moment, then shook her head. "I don't really have anything to say, it's just—"

She swallowed the rest of her words, only glancing cautiously at Ron.

Harry turned to Ron, crossed his arms, and said seriously, "I know Percy is a brother. If you feel this is inappropriate, please speak up."

Ron took a deep breath, then exhaled, and smiled helplessly, "Just go for it, Harry."

"This is the path Percy chose himself, and whatever his fate is, that's his own problem."

"I have nothing to say."

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