Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

Scrimgeour did not speak as the five of them passed through the messy kitchen and into the Burrow’s sitting room.

Although the garden had been full of soft golden evening light, it was already dark in here: Evan flicked his wand at the oil lamps as he entered and they illuminated the shabby but cozy room.

Scrimgeour sat himself in the sagging armchair that Mr. Weasley normally occupied, leaving Evan, Harry, Ron, and Hermione to squeeze side by side onto the sofa. Once they had done so, Scrimgeour spoke.

“I have some questions for the four of you, and I think it will be best if we do it individually. If you three” — he pointed at Evan, Harry, and Hermione — “can wait upstairs, I will start with Ronald.”

“We’re not going anywhere,” said Harry. “You can speak to us together, or not at all.”

“That’s right, Mr. Minister, we said everything we can tell you at Dumbledore’s funeral. I don’t see the need to talk to any of us individually,” said Evan, while Hermione nodded vigorously beside him. “I think you understand that too. So if you’ve come this time, you must have something specific to say to us. Is it about Dumbledore? If so, then let’s talk about it together.”

Scrimgeour gave them a cold, appraising look, as though wondering whether it was worthwhile opening hostilities this early.

“Very well then, together,” he said, shrugging. He cleared his throat. “I am here indeed because of something related to Albus Dumbledore’s affairs, but not entirely. Let’s go through them one by one. First, you should know that Dumbledore left a will in which all four of you are mentioned.”

It was indeed Dumbledore’s will; it seemed he had left it before his departure.

No one except Evan had expected this. Harry and Ron looked at one another, their faces filled with uncertainty.

“A surprise, apparently! You were not aware then that Dumbledore had left you anything?” Scrimgeour caught their expressions.

“A-all of us?” said Ron. “Me and Hermione too?”

“Yes, all of —”

But Harry interrupted.

“Dumbledore’s been gone for over a month. Why has it taken this long to give us what he left us?”

“Because I needed to examine what he left behind, just to make sure —” said Scrimgeour coldly.

“You had no right to do that!” said Hermione immediately, her voice trembling slightly.

“I had every right,” said Scrimgeour dismissively. “The Decree for Justifiable Confiscation gives the Ministry the power to confiscate the contents of a will —”

“That law was created to stop wizards passing on Dark artifacts,” said Hermione, “and the Ministry is supposed to have powerful evidence that the deceased’s possessions are illegal before seizing them! Are you telling me that you thought Dumbledore was trying to pass us something cursed?”

“Are you planning to follow a career in Magical Law, Miss Granger?” asked Scrimgeour.

“No, I’m not,” retorted Hermione. “I’m hoping to do some good in the world!”

“I don’t quite understand. Why have you decided to let us have our things now? Can’t think of a pretext to keep them?” Harry asked bluntly.

“No, it’ll be because the thirty-one days are up,” said Hermione at once. “They can’t keep the objects longer than that unless they can prove they’re dangerous. Right?”

That seemed to be the case. But there was little point in arguing further over it. Evan stepped in at the right moment, “Since Dumbledore did leave something for the four of us, and the Ministry’s right to withhold it under The Decree for Justifiable Confiscation has expired, then please hand them over to us, Mr. Minister, am I right in understanding this?”

“No, I don’t think it’s that simple, Evan!” Scrimgeour shook his head and said, “The Ministry has every reason to question why Dumbledore chose to do this — far too many reasons. For example, Ronald, would you say you were close to Dumbledore?”

Suddenly called upon, Ron looked startled.

“Me? Not — not really … It was always Evan and Harry who …”

Hermione jabbed him hard in the ribs with her elbow, signaling him to stop talking. She wondered where Ron’s fiery temper with Harry and Ginny that afternoon had gone. Now, facing Scrimgeour, he was completely flustered. Ron shut up, but the damage was done: Scrimgeour looked as though he had heard exactly what he had expected, and wanted, to hear. He swooped like a bird of prey upon Ron’s answer.

“If you were not very close to Dumbledore, how do you account for the fact that he remembered you in his will? He made exceptionally few personal bequests. The vast majority of his possessions — his private library, his magical instruments, and other personal effects — were left to Hogwarts. Why do you think you were singled out?”

Dumbledore wasn’t really dead; he would return, so there was no need to give everything away. Of course, if he were truly dead, he wouldn’t have left most of his possessions to Hogwarts.

Scrimgeour’s words stunned Ron. He looked around at Evan, Harry and Hermione for help and stammered, “I … dunno. I … when I say we weren’t close … I mean, I think he liked me. …”

““You’re being modest, Ron,” said Hermione. “Dumbledore was very fond of you.”

“Yeah, he valued you highly, and he mentioned you more than once. I see nothing strange at all in Dumbledore leaving Ron something in his will,” said Evan firmly. He knew full well that Dumbledore had never placed much weight on Ron — he’d never even spent time with him alone — but what truly mattered now were the will and the objects themselves. Dumbledore must have left them because he believed they would help Evan and the others; otherwise, he would never have done it. “Carrying on like this is pointless. Let’s be frank, Mrs. Minister — what exactly does the Headmaster’s will say?”

Scrimgeour looked at him for a moment, put his hand inside his cloak and drew out a drawstring pouch much larger than the one Hagrid had given Harry. From it, he removed a scroll of parchment which he unrolled and read aloud.

“ ‘The Last Will and Testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore’ … Yes, here we are. … ‘To Ronald Bilius Weasley, I leave my Deluminator, in the hope that he will remember me when he uses it.’ ”

Scrimgeour took from the bag an object: It looked something like a silver cigarette lighter, but it had the power to suck all light from a place, and restore it, with a simple click. Scrimgeour leaned forward and passed the Deluminator to Ron, who took it and turned it over in his fingers, looking stunned.

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