Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

“I had to insist multiple times before Rufus agreed not to send Aurors into the Burrow,” Dumbledore continued. “So, until the end of the summer holiday, I hope you all will stay here, even for Arthur and Molly’s sake. That includes you too, Evan. I know you have many things to do, but do not leave this house.”

“No problem,” said Evan. “I don’t have any other plans before returning to Hogwarts.”

“Very well,” said Dumbledore. “In a few days, you can go to Diagon Alley to purchase supplies for the new term. The Ministry of Magic will send someone to accompany you. Now, could you and Hermione wait for us at the back door for a moment? Before we part, I’d like a few words with Harry, in private.”

Evan and Hermione exchanged a glance and turned to walk toward the back door of the Burrow.

They saw Dumbledore leading Harry into a run-down stone hut outhouse, where the Weasleys kept their broomsticks.

Evan was not sure what Dumbledore was going to say to Harry, but since it had come to this point, it was time to gradually involve Harry, to help him grow until he was ready to face death…

This was cruel, far crueler than having Harry fight Voldemort — harder even than defeating Voldemort.

Unlike others, Harry had to confront his own inner self; he had to come to terms with the idea of death.

There were no shortcuts. Harry could only destroy the Horcrux within him by dying once.

Although Dumbledore had made preparations, if Harry did not have the awareness to sacrifice himself, this would become the biggest obstacle in defeating Voldemort, and there was a great possibility that Harry would never come back after his death.

This was no joke, nor was it something that could be accomplished with magic.

If Dumbledore truly cared about Harry, he should start guiding him now, making him mentally stronger.

Dumbledore had already mentioned last term that he would take Evan and Harry to explore Voldemort’s past memories.

Through that process, he would help Harry find the true meaning of life and how to conquer death.

As for Evan, he wasn’t too concerned. It seemed that death for wizards wasn’t so simple, as many powerful wizards had walked that path without hesitation.

If he was well prepared or had the chance, he would actually like to experience death once.

In addition, he planned to ask Dumbledore if he had found the location of the evil god’s brain and the whereabouts of the Double Snake Staff, and if there were any relevant clues in the information left by Slytherin.

Dumbledore hadn’t said anything, but Evan wasn’t in a hurry.

The most important thing right now wasn’t Slytherin’s side of things, but going back in time to get Ravenclaw’s Treasure Key.

“Look, the kitchen light is on — it must be Mrs. Weasley. She’s waiting for us,” said Hermione.

“Yeah, she knows we’re coming. Ron and the others are probably still awake,” said Evan, also looking toward the Burrow.

“Well, speaking of Ron, it’s a little strange…” Hermione hesitated and continued, “It’s not a big deal, but for some reason, he hasn’t written me a single letter this summer.”

“Maybe it’s because the Ministry’s post inspections are too strict…” said Evan casually.

“The Ministry of Magic only started checking mail in and out of the Burrow when we were about to arrive here. No one checked before that. I’ve been in contact with Ginny all summer,” said Hermione. “I asked her, and she didn’t know what was going on. She just said that Pigwidgeon has been busy this summer, and Ron might be in contact with Lavender.”

“That’s possible. Lavender is his girlfriend after all,” said Evan.

“Yeah, he and Lavender are in a relationship, so he should be writing to her, not to me. It’s just that…” Hermione thought for a moment before continuing, “I’m a little uncomfortable. He used to write to me a lot every summer.”

That was true. In past summers, Ron had always been the most active, frequently staying in touch with everyone.

Especially with Hermione, since Evan was often out of the country and Harry tended to have issues. So Ron spent most of his time discussing the state of the Wizarding world, summer experiences, and schoolwork with Hermione.

But thinking about it now, with Lavender in the picture, Ron really didn’t need to keep in contact with Hermione anymore!

“Unlike Ron, who hasn’t sent even one letter, Fred and George have been sending me their new product advertisements and samples almost every day, asking me to help promote them in Hogwarts Magic.”

Although the newspaper was growing in scale, Hermione had always managed part of the business. She was mainly responsible for student-related matters — submissions, research grant applications, or promotions for things they created.

Evan and Hermione talked for a while about Fred and George’s shop, which seemed to be doing incredibly well.

It was not until ten minutes later that Harry and Dumbledore emerged from the broom shed.

Harry’s expression was much more serious than before. Obviously, what Dumbledore said to him was not easy.

“I’m sorry to have kept you two waiting for so long. I was just telling Harry that your O.W.L.s results will arrive sometime today, and you’ll be able to decide on your electives then,” said Dumbledore with a smile.

“Oh my goodness, I almost forgot about that!” Hermione exclaimed. “Professor, how did we do on the exam?”

“You’ll know when you receive the results. You know, the O.W.L.s papers are graded by the Wizarding Examinations Authority, and even as headmaster, I can’t know the exact results before they’re released,” said Dumbledore. “But there’s no need to worry too much, Hermione — I’m confident your results will be excellent…”

Of course, there would be no problem with Hermione’s grades. What she was worried about was whether she could get all “Outstanding” grades.

Evan didn’t want to talk to her about this topic. It was definitely something that would never end.

He quickly caught up with Dumbledore and approached the back door of the Burrow, which was surrounded by the familiar litter of old Wellington boots and rusty cauldrons; and he could hear the soft clucking of sleepy chickens coming from a distant shed.

Dumbledore knocked three times on the door, and there was a sudden movement behind the kitchen window.

“Who’s there?” said a nervous voice — it was Mrs. Weasley’s. “Declare yourself!”

“It is I, Dumbledore, bringing Harry, Evan, and Hermione.”

The door opened at once. There stood Mrs. Weasley, short, plump, and wearing an old green dressing gown.

“Oh my God, Evan, Harry, Hermione, my dears, you’re here! Albus, I was so worried. I was just wondering why you hadn’t arrived yet. Arthur said you might not come before morning!”

“It might have been morning, but we were lucky,” said Dumbledore, ushering Evan and the others over the threshold. “Slughorn proved much more persuadable than I had expected. Of course, it was all thanks to the three of them. Ah, hello, Nymphadora!”

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