Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

“Come in, please come in, Minister!” fluttered Mrs. Weasley, straightening her hat. “It’s an honor to have you here. Please sit down, have a little purkey, or some tooding. … I mean —”

In her excitement she pronounced the words turkey and pudding incorrectly, turning them into purkey and tooding.

“No, no, my dear Molly,” said Scrimgeour with a smile, his eyes looking around the table, nodding kindly to everyone. “I don’t want to intrude, wouldn’t be here at all if Percy hadn’t wanted to see you all so badly. …”

“Oh, Perce!” said Mrs. Weasley tearfully, reaching up to kiss him.

“No need for special treatment, Arthur. Just treat me as you would in the office,” said Scrimgeour to Mr. Weasley, whose expression was a little stiff. Then he shifted his gaze to Evan beside him, as if sizing him up. “Ah, Evan, I didn’t expect you to be here too. Nice to see you. I always remember the night of the Quidditch World Cup final two years ago. You left a deep impression on me.”

“Hello, Mr. Minister!” said Evan.

“No need to be so formal, Evan, we are old friends.”

This sentence sounded very familiar. Not long ago, Evan had been Cornelius Fudge’s most valued junior and they had a very good relationship.

But in the blink of an eye, when Evan said something that was not in Fudge’s interest, he immediately turned into a mentally disturbed child.

Scrimgeour, on the other hand, had been an Auror. The last time they met, he was cold and indifferent to Evan. But after becoming Minister, he had quickly turned into a politician — a proper politician. At the very least, when it came to making connections, he was already on par with Cornelius Fudge.

“Yes, Mr. Minister!” said Evan.

“Ah, speaking of which, I just happened to have something to tell you. Since we meet here, I won’t need to make a trip to Hogwarts,” said Scrimgeour kindly. “It’s like this. The Egyptian Ministry of Magic contacted us not long ago. They want to commend you and thank you for your contribution to the rescue of the Ruins of Amun Ra.”

“The Egyptian Ministry of Magic wants to commend me?” Evan asked. He didn’t expect it would be this.

The last thing he remembered from the Ruins of Amun Ra was passing out — Sirius had brought him back. He had no idea how the situation was handled afterward, but his battle against the Ancient Demon Scorpion had been witnessed by thousands of wizards.

At that moment, with the cooperation of that… being, the fight was earth-shattering!

The scene was too big, and the level of that battle had far exceeded that of ordinary wizards and reached the standard of gods.

When Evan thought about it later, he felt that he’d been too high-profile at the time.

It didn’t fit his style. He was supposed to be a low-key person…

“Yes, the Egyptian Ministry of Magic hopes that you will have time to go to Egypt again. They want to award you the medal,” said Scrimgeour. “We got the whole story from them and what you did. To be honest, I never thought… It’s truly remarkable. Very few wizards could accomplish such feats. I always knew you would achieve great things, and you certainly haven’t disappointed me. No, what you’ve done far exceeded my expectations. You are worthy of being Dumbledore’s successor.”

“Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Minister!” said Evan modestly. “I am actually far inferior to the Headmaster.”

His explanation was of no use, and after Scrimgeour had said this, the atmosphere around the table changed perceptibly.

Everybody looked from Scrimgeour to Evan. Most people here had some knowledge that he had gone to Egypt last summer and saved many people during an unexpected crisis. But they hadn’t expected such high praise from the Minister himself.

Everybody already knew Evan was extraordinary. He had proven himself. But perhaps because they were used to it, or because Evan was always so low-key, they hadn’t thought much of it. Now that the Minister for Magic was personally acknowledging his achievements, the feeling was entirely different.

Only Hermione nudged Evan with her leg under the dining table. What did Scrimgeour mean by coming to the Burrow and saying these things?!

He wouldn’t have come here just to praise Evan. No matter how one looked at it, this was very unusual.

“You’re very modest, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’ve made significant contributions to the peace of the Wizarding World,” said Scrimgeour with a smile. “By the way, the Ministry has been discussing something recently. Given your contributions, we are considering nominating you for the Order of Merlin, First Class.”

“My goodness!” Everyone immediately became excited, and the way they looked at Evan changed dramatically.

The Order of Merlin, First Class was the highest honor a wizard could receive and was extremely rare.

Every wizard who had been awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class was either a recognized great wizard like Dumbledore, or had made amazing contributions in a certain field or a major event. Wizards who could receive the Order of Merlin, First Class were the elite among the elites, and it was something they could brag about for a lifetime.

The key point was that Evan had previously won the Order of Merlin, Second Class in recognition of his capture of Peter Pettigrew.

At the time, he had been awarded the Order of Merlin, Second Class mainly because the incident had caused such a big stir that almost all wizards in the world were paying attention to it, so Fudge had no choice but to make a public gesture.

For a young student, receiving even the Order of Merlin, Second Class was already an unimaginable honor.

Now, Scrimgeour was going to award him another medal, the highest First-Class medal. What was his intention?!

Leaving everything else aside, if Evan really got another Order of Merlin, and First Class this time, the entire Wizarding World would definitely go crazy and fall into unprecedented heated discussions.

By then, titles like Dumbledore’s Successor and the Rising Great Wizard would be firmly attached to Evan.

This alignment suited Scrimgeour and the Ministry of Magic’s interests perfectly. As long as Evan was outstanding enough, awarding him the Order of Merlin, First-Class would shift public attention away from criticizing the Ministry and instead focus it entirely on him. It would also create a war hero — someone for people to rally behind.

Given the current situation, both the Ministry and the general public desperately hoped that a hero, capable of defeating Voldemort, would emerge.

Dumbledore was old and the world needed a new successor, a wizard stronger than Voldemort.

It was a good plan. The only issue was that Evan was simply too young — he was only fifteen. He had accomplished many incredible feats, and everyone believed he would one day become as powerful as Dumbledore or Voldemort. But not yet. He still needed time to grow.

No one would really believe that fifteen-year-old Evan could defeat Voldemort now. That was completely unrealistic.

At most, he would be rated similarly to Tom Riddle when he was a student at Hogwarts, which was normal.

But this did not conflict with Scrimgeour’s plan to elevate Evan. On the contrary, Scrimgeour could use this opportunity to pull Evan to the Ministry’s side.

By bestowing him with unimaginable honors, Scrimgeour could use that influence to control him.

That was probably it, Evan thought. This was Scrimgeour’s plan.

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