Disclaimer : J.K. Rowling and Warner bros own Harry Potter, I dont. This story is for non profit and is just for fun.
Was this it? Was this what people have sacrificed their lives for? What our parent's generation suffered for? Was this what one man had fought so hard, suffered so much, what those people who stood for justice along this man, suffered the whips and torture of massacre and corruption had fought for?Why is it after what seems like vanquishing evil the world is still in peril? Was it all just thrown away?
X
Theres one thing you can say about the Weasley stomach, is that every sleepless midnight of summer holidays, you'd find one or two lingering in the kitchen for food. His father's apetite had been obviously passed onto all of them, along with his sweet tooth. Before the clock had even struck twelve, there was already a tall redhead eating chocolate fudge icecream like a child who has been deprived of anything sweet, while his twin was exploring the pantry noisily for something else.
"You know your Mum will stop buying ice cream and anything sweet if this goes on every night," Said a tall redheaded man in his late thirties going on his fourties,yet somehow despite his age, seemed still hold a childish charm through his personality. "You better find a way to sneak of more quietly."
"Oi! Quiet it down over there!" said the boy, turning his head towards the pantry, warning his twin. "So, Dad, what brings you down here late this hour?"
"The usual, Matthew," he replied, pointing to his knee. It didn't seem injured,but it sure as hell hurt a lot. "Feels like it burns once in a while."
"Well,that explains why Mum has been able to sleep, as well as the rest of us, one less person snoring," said the boy jokingly, his father smiled. "Only Emma snores now."
"Shut up Matthew!" said the girl walking out of the pantry with a chocolate peanut butter jar, and some strawberry jam in her hand. "At least I don't drool."
"Got a point there, anyways, dear father…" he said in a voice that sounded too much like the infamous Fred and George Weasley.
" Don'try to lie, you'd fall asleep if you had a nails in your arse. What is it really?" said his daughter eyeing him suspiciously.
Bloody hell! The man thought. These two are the death of me. So much like Fred and George and the rest of my siblings, yet has the intuition of their Mum. Yet the only traits they have of mine, are my hair, and my stomach. "Alright, you've caught me."
"You're a horrible liar, Dad." His son smirked at him. Too bloody much like them.
"I might as well tell you," he said trying to hold a smile while playing with the tooth pick in his hand. "You'll find out anyway."
"Bloody right, Dad." said his daughter.
"Don't let your mother hear you saying that. Anyway, just some problems in the ministry,that's all." He paused for a moment thinking whether he should go on and share the news with his children. "Only now, bloody Morrison is taking it to Quidditch.Wont be long before it gets to school matters. Luckily Minerva wont back down easily without a decent fight."
They knew how angry their father was. The ministry was even worse now after Voldemort had been destroyed. It wasn't immediate,but it was on its way. Former death eaters running the ministry. The words of heroes were not enough to send these people to Azkaban. Innocent until proven guilty. It was sickening. They could do nothing while Morrison and fellow Death eaters practically ruled the ministry, easing up to all the powerful wizards and witches they can. It wont be long before theres a dictatorship. The world was yet again in trouble, not through terror like Voldemort, no. Through corruption in the ministry, destroying the society of wizards that those heroes have fought so hard to save.
To be continued...