Hogwarts: I will not become the Dark Lord

After only two or three hours of sleep, Mr. Weasley gently woke everyone from their slumber.

Jerry rubbed his sleepy eyes, moving his arm, which had been slightly numb from Hermione using it as a pillow. He noticed that Hermione was already up, busily packing her luggage, ready to depart.

Everyone hurried about, not even bothering to wash up, focusing only on quickly packing their belongings. Mr. Weasley used magic to neatly pack the tent into his backpack, and then they hurriedly left the campsite.

On the way, they encountered Mr. Roberts standing at the door of a small stone house, his face pale. He looked dazed and waved goodbye to them, his mouth still mumbling a "Merry Christmas" blessing.

"Don't worry, this is a normal reaction," Mr. Weasley explained as they strode towards the swamp. "When memories are modified by external forces, individuals often need to go through a short period of adjustment, especially when modifying those memory fragments that were originally deeply engraved in the mind. If last night's memories hadn't been modified by magic, they would probably become Mr. Roberts' nightmare for the rest of his life!"

As they approached the location of the Portkey, a cacophony of noisy voices flooded their ears. Getting closer, they saw a group of wizards surrounding Basil, the Portkey manager, each person's face filled with anxiety and dissatisfaction, all demanding to leave this unsettling place immediately.

Before long, the outline of the Burrow came into view.

Almost at the same moment, a cry of joy and relief rang out on the path: "Oh, thank goodness, that's wonderful!" Mrs. Weasley was pacing anxiously in the front yard, clearly having not slept all night. At this moment, she rushed towards her returning family, even wearing her bedroom slippers.

Mrs. Weasley's face was unusually pale with worry, her eyes filled with a mixture of nervousness and relief. The Daily Prophet, which she had been clutching tightly in her hand, also slipped to the ground. "Arthur, I was so worried, so worried."

Jerry picked up the newspaper from the ground. The large headline read: Quidditch World Cup, For the Sake of a Man, Death Eaters Charge for Love! Battle the Ministry of Magic!

Jerry was filled with question marks. He glanced at the author, Rita Skeeter... outrageous yet plausible!

"You're all unharmed," Mrs. Weasley said with a trembling voice, her eyes red as she looked at each returning family member. "Thank goodness. You're all standing alive in front of me!"

Unexpectedly, Mrs. Weasley suddenly hugged Fred and George, the twins' heads banging together hard.

"Ouch! Mum, are you trying to strangle George and me?"

"Before you left, I was still furious with you two!" Mrs. Weasley choked out, remorsefully. "I kept regretting that if the worst happened, if you were really taken away by the Dark Lord, the last thing I said to you and George was to scold you for your exam scores."

"Molly, dear, it's all over, we're all fine," Mr. Weasley said gently, comforting Mrs. Weasley, before leading everyone inside.

Arriving in the living room, Mrs. Weasley skillfully brewed a cup of strong tea for everyone, while Mr. Weasley added some aged Firewhisky to his own cup.

"Jerry, hand me that newspaper to have a look," Mr. Weasley said after taking a sip of hot tea to relieve some of his fatigue.

Jerry handed the Daily Prophet in his hand to Mr. Weasley, whose eyes quickly scanned the contents of the front page. Percy also curiously leaned over.

"Just as I expected," Mr. Weasley's expression became even more serious. "The Ministry of Magic is in chaos, criminals are at large, the state of law and order is worrying, and the rampant dark wizards have cast a shadow of shame over the entire country..."

"And that Rita Skeeter is a nightmare for the Ministry of Magic!" Percy interjected indignantly. "Last week, she even ranted in the newspaper, openly accusing the Ministry of Magic of inaction, even falsely claiming that we should devote all our efforts to eliminating the struggle against vampires, rather than wasting time on trivial issues such as cauldron thickness!"

"The newspaper even mentioned me," Mr. Weasley read the last paragraph of Rita Skeeter's report, his brow furrowed so tightly that he could have killed a fly.

"Where?" Mrs. Weasley accidentally choked on a mouthful of tea mixed with whisky, and asked anxiously between coughs, "If I had seen this earlier, I could have at least confirmed your safety sooner!"

The newspaper exaggeratedly described the chaotic scene at the campsite: Wizards were terrified, gathered at the edge of the forest but waited for the Ministry of Magic's rescue. When the shadow of the Dark Mark had just dissipated, a Ministry of Magic official appeared in a hurry, claiming that no one was injured, but remained silent about the follow-up situation. There are even rumors that within an hour, several bodies were quietly carried out of the depths of the forest. So, is the rumor true? Why is the Ministry of Magic hiding it? We still don't know the truth. I can't help but ask, were the Aurors drunk? Why hasn't a single criminal been caught? Can such an incompetent Ministry of Magic really reassure us?

"Oh, this is utterly absurd!" Mr. Weasley angrily stuffed the newspaper into Percy's hands, and said indignantly, "Fake news!"

"Where did these rumors come from? It's simply fabrication! When did I make such irresponsible remarks? How could she write such a report! This will definitely cause rumors to spread and set off an uproar."

Then, Mr. Weasley took a deep breath: "Molly, it seems I must go to the office immediately to personally clarify these untruths, lest they continue to confuse the public."

"Dad, I'll go with you," Percy also stood up and said, "Mr. Crouch must need manpower at the moment, and besides, I also have a research report on cauldrons that needs to be submitted to him personally." Before he finished speaking, he hurriedly left the kitchen.

Mrs. Weasley looked embarrassed and hesitated, whispering, "Arthur, in theory, you are currently on vacation, and this matter should not involve you; the office should be able to handle it properly without you, shouldn't it?"

"I must go, Molly," Mr. Weasley said firmly, "I made the situation more complicated. I'll go change into my robes now and set off immediately!"

"Mrs. Weasley," Harry finally couldn't suppress his inner anxiety and asked, "Did Hedwig bring back my letters?"

Harry was waiting for a reply from Sirius Black. He remembered Professor Trelawney's disturbing prophecy last semester, she said that the Dark Lord would make a comeback, and would be more powerful and terrifying than ever before!

"Hedwig?" Mrs. Weasley seemed a little dazed by the question, then shook her head and replied gently, "No, dear, I haven't received any letters."

Harry nodded in disappointment upon hearing this. Ron patted him on the shoulder, comforting him.

After a short rest, Jerry and Hermione decided not to stay at the Burrow any longer. They politely said goodbye to Mrs. Weasley, Harry, Ron, and everyone else. Harry would not be returning to the Dursleys' house for the time being; he would be staying here until the start of school.