A wizard without a wand wasn't entirely without threat—there were places where wandless magic was not as much of a blind spot as it was in their country.
"About this issue," John said meaningfully, "there might be a better solution."
"Hm?" Crouch Sr. looked at John in confusion.
Beneath that silver mask, there seemed to be endless mystery.
…
Harry was practically being dragged out by Mr. Weasley.
His feet felt like they weren't even touching the ground, his mind entirely preoccupied with thoughts of Dumbledore.
"My goodness, I can't believe it—they actually questioned you in the courtroom? They held a full trial?"
Mr. Weasley still didn't know the details, but he led Harry up the stairs.
"I suppose so," Harry replied gloomily.
"Arthur," Amelia Bones greeted Mr. Weasley.
There were a few other wizards around her, and they all gave Harry a kind look.
Mr. Weasley also greeted Amelia.
Amelia then turned to Harry and said. "Barty Crouch is very good at interrogations—you did well."
Pulling him aside, Arthur whispered, "This is good news. I think I'll take you straight home—you can share the news with everyone."
"Molly will probably throw a celebration."
"This isn't something to celebrate," Harry growled.
Mr. Weasley was taken aback and patiently asked, "What's wrong?"
"Johnny Silverhand—he was there too. He pushed for Dumbledore to be removed as Headmaster."
"The Ministry's gone mad, haven't they?" Mr. Weasley was utterly shocked. "At this time? Right when You-Know-Who has returned?"
"Yes, this time," Harry felt his stomach twisting and churning, nausea making him lightheaded. "They think Dumbledore's education is a problem… because some student couldn't control his magic outside school and inflated his aunt."
"I'm really sorry about that, but no one blames you, Harry." Mr. Weasley gripped Harry's shoulders, looking at him with the seriousness of a father. "You did great. Some things are just beyond your control."
"I just…" Harry couldn't quite describe what he was feeling. Having his past mistakes suddenly dragged back up—worse, realizing he had been the reason Dumbledore lost his position—was a punch to the gut.
He had always thought he was helping Dumbledore, but now, it seemed he had only made things worse.
Mr. Weasley led Harry into the lift, and Harry asked, "Why was Johnny Silverhand there? People were calling him a 'Ministry Advisor.'"
"He must have thrown a lot of money at the Ministry," Mr. Weasley said knowingly. "Crouch's rise to power had a lot of Galleons behind it."
Harry hesitated, then asked, "Does Johnny Silverhand have a grudge against Dumbledore?"
He was asking too many questions, and Mr. Weasley could tell something was weighing on him.
And honestly, after everything Harry had been through at his age, it was no surprise.
"I'm not too sure about that," Mr. Weasley said. "But people always talk about the two of them together."
"Talk about what?"
"Things like if Dumbledore could be called the first king of the wizarding world, then Johnny is 'the Second King.' Johnny Silverhand is full of mystery—no one knows what he looks like. He's got a lot of money, and a lot of people backing him."
Harry stammered, "Then is it possible… is there some kind of grudge between them?"
"Shh." Mr. Weasley immediately grew serious. "You can't go around saying things like that."
"He's so hostile toward Dumbledore. Other than Voldemort, who else would—"
"Harry!" Mr. Weasley cut him off sternly. "He's not a Death Eater. On the contrary, he's even more at odds with them than we are. That I can guarantee."
As the head of a department under the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Mr. Weasley knew a bit more than the average wizard.
Johnny Silverhand's attitude toward the Death Eaters—it was downright terrifying.
This man, at least for now, wasn't going to become an enemy of the Order of the Phoenix.
Harry's mind was a mess. He was practically talking nonsense now. Johnny Silverhand had even gone after Voldemort in the graveyard.
But that feeling Johnny Silverhand gave off when facing Dumbledore… it made people feel dazed, as if drifting into a dream.
Ting—the lift arrived.
They stepped into the atrium. At this hour, the place was fairly empty. Harry spotted a man and a woman standing by the Fountain of Magical Brethren.
"How's Lippy doing?"
"He's fine. You don't need to worry."
"That mission… it's been going on too long."
"Sorry, I can't tell you the details. Are you free this week?"
"What, are you asking me out?"
"Why not?"
"You've changed a lot. You never used to be like this… Oh? Arthur."
The two of them were chatting beside the fountain. The witch looked like the attractive type, and her smoky voice from smoking gave her speech a unique kind of charm.
She greeted Mr. Weasley, and he responded, "Oz, good afternoon."
Mr. Weasley leaned down and whispered to Harry, "She's an Auror with a wealth of experience. Just got transferred back from field duty."
Oz's gaze fell on Harry too. A flicker of surprise flashed in her eyes as she said, "So this is Harry Potter?"
She smiled and nodded politely at Harry.
The male wizard next to her glanced at the group, and a strange look flashed in his eyes.
"Long time no see, Arthur."
He greeted Mr. Weasley, who looked a bit awkward. "Tommy, you're here…"
"I'm waiting for someone," Tommy said with a light laugh. "No longer on duty, so I had to wait here."
"Is that so? Then I won't bother you two."
Mr. Weasley was tactful enough to end the conversation and pulled Harry along, ready to leave.
Just then, Harry spotted the fountain's pool and quickly said, "Wait."
He took out his coin pouch and dumped the whole thing into the pool.
Glancing up at the statue of the house-elf, Harry thought to himself, If Hermione saw this, I wonder what she'd say.
Mr. Weasley watched and thought Harry must be doing a good deed.
There was a plaque by the pool stating that all the money would be donated to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.
What he didn't know was that Harry was making good on a promise. When he came in, he'd said to himself that if the charges were dropped, he'd donate ten Galleons.
Clearly, what he'd just dumped in was more than ten.
"All right, Harry, I'll take you back now," said Mr. Weasley—just as the gate of the lift opened with a clank.
He turned to look—out stepped a silver mask.
Tommy walked over and greeted respectfully, "My lord."
Mr. Weasley felt a gaze sweep over him, and he instinctively took two steps closer to Harry.
Harry noticed it too—that silver mask.
It was exactly the same as the one in the courtroom.
It felt like he was right back there again, the relief he had just started to feel instantly vanishing.
He suddenly recalled that scene in the graveyard—Johnny Silverhand loudly confronting Dumbledore.
There was definitely some kind of connection between those two. Harry was absolutely certain.
He had a guess—from the way Johnny Silverhand spoke, and that single word: "Professor."
Could he have once been a Hogwarts student?
That gaze only briefly swept over Harry, not lingering, and instead shifted straight to Oz.
He gave Oz a slight nod, and Oz hurriedly returned the gesture with a smile.
Not even a glance—that was how Harry was treated once again.
The first time had been in the graveyard, when he stood behind Dumbledore.
This time, it was in the Ministry of Magic, and he stood behind Mr. Weasley.
It was as if that man's eyes had never seen Harry at all.
Harry wanted to ask him—why suspend Dumbledore from his position as Headmaster?
Mr. Weasley quickly grabbed hold of Harry.
But the man in the silver mask stopped walking. He turned and began walking toward Harry.
"Sir Johnny Silverhand," Mr. Weasley began, but the silver-masked man just walked right past him.
He came to a stop beside Harry and pulled out a coin pouch.
The Galleons inside poured out like a golden waterfall, filling the fountain's pool with a dazzling sheen of gold.
Mr. Weasley's eyes widened—at least a year's salary, just dumped in like that.
"In both the Muggle and wizarding worlds," a deep, hoarse voice spoke, and Harry looked toward the silver mask—those eyes were cold and emotionless, "hospitals are always especially important."
Was he talking to him?
Harry opened his mouth to respond.
The voice spoke again, "Tommy, that plot of land we acquired last time—it hasn't been developed yet, has it?"
Tommy respectfully replied, "No, sir."
"Then build a hospital on it. Offer free treatment to some patients."
Harry felt like the silver mask had turned golden in that moment—the power of money was practically blinding.
His expression froze. So this is the world of the big shots? Talking about building a hospital like it was buying vegetables.
"Goodbye, Harry."
Harry snapped back to his senses and looked toward the two figures already walking toward the Floo fireplace. He asked uncertainly, "Did he just... talk to me?"
Mr. Weasley, also blinded by sheer financial power, said, "I think he did."
___________
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