A/N: I'm going to make this clear. I don't own the Harry Potter series or it's characters. That right goes to JK Rowling

If you haven't yet, read before this story:

The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: The Sorcerer's Stone
The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: The Chamber of Secrets
The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: The Prisoner of Azkaban

Also if you haven't please take part on voting for which story you want me to update next month

Mayhem at the Ministry

Remus woke Harry up after only a few hours of sleep. They got dressed and Mr. Weasley used magic to pack up the tent. They left the campsite, making sure to hide Winky as they pass Mr. Roberts at the door of his cottage. Mr. Roberts had a strange, dazed look about him, and he waved them off with a vague "Merry Christmas."

"He must be a bit disorientated from the memory modification," James said.

Once they were out of Mr. Roberts sites, they unhide Winky. They heard urgent voices as they approached the spot where the Portkeys lay, and when they reach it, they found a great number of witches and wizards gathered around Basil, the keeper of the Portkeys, all clamoring to get away from the campsite as quickly as possible. Mr. Weasley had a hurried discussion with Basil; they joined the queue, and were able to take an old rubber tire back to Stoatshead Hill before the sun had really risen. They walked back through Ottery St. Catchpole and up the damp lane toward the Burrow in the dawn light, talking very little because they were so exhausted, and thinking longingly of their breakfast. As they rounded the corner and the Burrow came into view, a cry echoed along the lane.

"Oh thank goodness, thank goodness!"

Mrs. Weasley, who had evidently been waiting for them in the front yard, came running toward them, still wearing her bedroom slippers, her face pale and strained, a rolled-up copy of the Daily Prophet clutched in her hand.

"Luna!" shouted a man, "Thank goodness you're alright!"

The man was an eccentric-looking wizard, who looked slightly cross-eyed and had shoulder length hair that was the texture of candyfloss.

"I'm fine," Luna responded.

"We've been so worried—so worried—" Molly said.

She flung her arms around Mr. Weasley's neck, and the Daily Prophet fell out of her limp hand onto the ground. Looking down, Harry saw the headline: SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP, complete with a twinkling black-and-white photograph of the Dark Mark over the treetops.

"You're all right," Mrs. Weasley distractedly, releasing Mr. Weasley and staring around them all with red eyes, Mr. Lovegood still hugging his daughter. "you're alive… Oh boys…"

And to everybody's surprise, she seized Fred and George and pulled them both into such a tight hug that their heads banged together.

"Ouch! Mum—you're strangling us—"

"I shouted at you before you left!" Mrs. Weasley said, starting to sob. "It's all I've been thinking about! What if You-Know-Who had got, and the last thing I ever said to you as you did not get enough O.W.L.s? Oh Fred… George…'

"Come on, now, Molly, we're perfectly okay," said Mr. Weasley soothing, prising her off the twins

"I better head straight home and let my parents know I'm fine," Tonks said.

"Good idea," Sirius agreed. "See you at work."

Tonks nodded and apparated out of there.

James picked up the newspaper as they headed into the house. Neville and Augusta went ahead home, as did the Lovegoods, but not before Mr. Lovegood thanked everyone for protecting Luna. No one complained about Luna leaving after what happened.

"Winky, why don't you make Molly here some strong tea," James requested.

"Yes Master," Winky hiccup.

"James can I see the newspaper?" Mr. Weasley asked.

James tossed it to him. Mr. Weasley scanned the front page while Percy looked over his shoulder.

"I knew it," said Mr. Weasley heavily. "Ministry blunders… culprits not apprehended… lax security… Dark wizards running unchecked… national disgrace… Who wrote this? Ah… of course… Rita Skeeter."

"That women got it in for the Ministry of Magic!" said Percy furiously. "Last week she was saying we're wasting our time quibbling about cauldron thickness when we should be stamping out vampires! As if it wasn't specifically stated in paragraph twelve of the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans—"

"Do us a favor, Perce," said Bill, yawning, "and shut up."

"I am mention," said Mr. Weasley, his eyes widening behind his glasses as he reached the bottom of the Daily Prophet article.

"Where?" spluttered Mrs. Weasley, choking on the tea Winky gave her. "If I'd seen that, I'd have known you were alive!"

"Not by name," said Mr. Weasley. "Listen to this: 'If the terrified wizards and witches who waited breathlessly for news at the edge of the wood expected reassurance from the Ministry of Magic, they were sadly disappointed. A Ministry official emerged sometime after the appearance of the Dark Mark alleging that nobody had been hurt, but refusing to give any more information. Whether this statement will be enough to quash the rumors that several bodies were removed from the woods an hour later, remains to be seen.' Oh really," said Mr. Weasley in exasperation handing the paper to Percy. "Nobody was hurt. What was I supposed to say?"

"They must have mistaken the word of finding Winky as the said bodies," James said. "Crouch be glad to hear though that Winky wasn't confirm though."

Mr. Weasley heaved a deep sigh. "Molly, I'm going to have to go into office; this is going to take some smoothing over."

"I'll come with you, Father," said Percy importantly. "Mr. Crouch will need all hands-on deck. And I can give him my cauldron report in person."

"I better go too," Sirius said. "Since Tonks and I was one of the Aurors at the site so Scrimgeour will want to speak to me."

"Good luck," James said.

"Arthur, you're supposed to be on holiday! This hasn't got anything to do with your office; surely they can handle this without you?"

"I've got to go, Molly," said Mr. Weasley. "I've made things worse. I'll just change into my robes and I'll be off…"

Not long later, Mr. Weasley, Sirius and Percy were off to the Ministry.

James explained to Mrs. Weasley about Winky's situation after she notice the house elf when she started cleaning up after everyone. Mrs. Weasley was all too welcoming to the poor house elf and offered her help.

"I is do it. I is good house elf." Winky cried.

The following week been chaotic. Sirius been able to stay home after giving his report, but Percy and Mr. Weasley been gone for the whole time. Both left the house each morning the rest of family and return well after dinner every night.

Fortunately, Luna must have cleared things up with her dad, because soon the Weasleys got a copy of the Quibbler with article on the game: "MINISTRY SAVES MUGGLES FROM DARK WIZARDS. The scare of the Dark Mark was just that: a scare. Reliable witness at the scene confirmed that there were no bodies when Dark Mark was summoned. Ministry members was able to save Muggles being jinxed and deaths confirmed."

"Not that it did me any good," Percy said, the Sunday evening before they were due to return to Hogwarts. "I've been putting out fires all week. People keep sending Howlers, and of course, if you do not open a Howler straight away, it explodes. Scorch marks all over my desk and my best quill reduce to cinders."

"Why are they all sending Howlers?" asked Ginny.

"Complaining about security at the World Cup," said Percy. "They want compensation for their ruined property. Mundungus Fletcher's put in a claim for a twelve-bedroomed tent with en-suite Jacuzzi, but I have got his number. I know for a fact that he was sleeping under a cloak propped on sticks."

James and Remus already left for Hogwarts with Winky to prepare for the semester, so Harry was left with the Weasleys. Normally they already be there two weeks ahead, but Dumbledore gave them extra vacation days for the Quidditch cup.

Mrs. Weasley glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. It did not tell time, but it had nine golden hands, each of them was engraved with one of the Weasley family names. There were no numerals around the face, but description of where each family member might be. "Home," "school," and "work" were there, but there was also "traveling," "lost," "hospital," "prison," and, in the position where the number twelve would be on a normal clock, "mortal peril."

Eight of the hands were currently pointing to the "home" position, but Mr. Weasley's, which was the longest, was still pointing to "work." Mrs. Weasley sighed.

"Your father hasn't had to go into the office on weekends since the days of You-Know-Who," she said. "They're working him far too hard. His dinner's going to be ruined if he doesn't come home soon."

"Well, Father feels he's got to make up for his mistake at the match, doesn't he?" said Percy. "If truth be told, he was a tad unwise to make a public statement without clearing it with his Head of Department first—"

"Don't you dare blame your father for what that wretched Skeeter woman wrote!" said Mrs. Weasley, flaring up at once.

"If Dad hadn't said anything, old Rita would just have said it was disgraceful that nobody from the Ministry had commented," said Bill, who was playing chess with Ron. "Rita Skeeter never makes anyone look good. Remember, she interviewed all the Gringotts Charm Breakers once, and called me 'a long-haired pillock'?"

"Well, it is a bit long, dear," said Mrs. Weasley gently. "If you'd just let me—"

"No, Mum."

"At least Mr. Lovegood was willing to publish the truth," Harry said polishing his Firebolt.

"Yeah. Too bad not everyone reads the Quibbler," Charlie responded darning a fireproof balaclava.

Rain lashed against the living room window. Hermione was immersed in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, copies of which Mrs. Weasley had bought for her, Harry, Ron, and Neville while they were at the Quidditch Cup. Fred and George were sitting in a far corner, quills out, talking in whispers, their heads bent over a piece of parchment.

"What are you two up to?" said Mrs. Weasley sharply, her eyes on the twins.

"Homework," said Fred vaguely.

"Don't be ridiculous, you're still on holiday," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Yeah, we've left it a bit late," said George.

"You're not by any chance writing out a new order form, are you?" said Mrs. Weasley shrewdly. "You wouldn't be thinking of re-starting Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, by any chance?"

"Now, Mum," said Fred, looking up at her, a pained look on his face. "If the Hogwarts Express crashed tomorrow, and George and I died, how would you feel to know that the last thing we ever heard from you was an unfounded accusation?"

Everyone laughed, even Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh, your father's coming!" she said suddenly, looking up at the clock again.

Mr. Weasley's hand had suddenly spun from "work" to "traveling"; a second later it was shuddered to a halt on "home" with the others, and they heard him calling from the kitchen.

"Coming, Arthur!" called Mrs. Weasley, hurrying out of the room.

A few moments later, Mr. Weasley came into the warm living room, carrying his dinner on a tray. He looked completely exhausted.

"Well, the fat's really in the fire now," he told Mrs. Weasley as he sat down in an armchair near the hearth and toyed unenthusiastically with his somewhat shriveled cauliflower. "Ever since the Quibbler published that article, Rita Skeeter been digging up on anything extra juicy on the Ministry. And now she is found out about poor old Bertha going missing, so that will be the headline in the Prophet tomorrow. I told Bagman he should have sent someone to look for her ages ago."

"Mr. Crouch has been saying it for weeks and weeks," said Percy swiftly.

"Crouch is lucky Rita hasn't found out about Winky," said Mr. Weasley. "As far as she knows, Winky was transferred to Potter family house elf as thanks for James part in fighting the Death Eaters."

"If you ask me, Mr. Crouch is very lucky no one at the Daily Prophet knows how mean he is to elves!" said Hermione angrily.

"Now look here, Hermione!" said Percy. "A high-ranking Ministry official like Mr. Crouch deserves unswerving obedience from his servants—"

"His slave, you mean—like property instead of a living creature!" said Hermione, her voice rising passionately. "It's bad enough he doesn't pay her, but he never even treated her kindly."

"I think you'd all better go upstairs and check that you've packed properly!" said Mrs. Weasley, breaking up the argument. "Come on now, all of you…"

Harry repacked his broomstick servicing kit, put his Firebolt over his shoulder, and went back upstairs with Ron. The rain sounded even louder at the top of the house, accompanied by loud whistlings and moans from the wind, not to mention sporadic howls from the ghoul who lived in the attic. Hedwig was and Pig was in their cages. Pig began twittering and zooming around his cage when they entered. The sight of the half-packed trunks seemed to have sent him into a frenzy of excitement.

"Bung him some Owl Treats," said Ron, throwing a packet across to Harry. "It'll shut him up."

Harry poked a few Owl Treats through the bars of Pig's cage. Mrs. Weasley had visited the Potter vault and got him some gold and washed all their clothes.

There were four parcels on each bed the boys have not gotten to open along with The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, by Miranda Goshaw, a handful of new quills, a dozen rolls of parchment and refills for his potion making kit.

Harry's was brand new compare to Ron's second-hand stuff. Everything the Weasley's were second-hand, even Ginny's. But unlike Ron's and the twin's stuff, Harry knew Ginny's books were in better condition because Harry and James gave Ginny all of Lilly Potter's old school supplies her first year including every copy of Standard Books of Spells, Grades 1-5—each in mint condition as Lilly had preserved everything in muggle plastic. It was Harry's idea to give Ginny all his mom's old school supplies as that year they had to buy seven of Lockhart's books which did not come second-hand.

"We should open the parcels and see what's inside them," Harry said.

"Yeah, fine," Ron said.

Harry opened his parcel and found it was a set of robes that somewhat resembles a dress but were traditional for formal occasions. Harry use to wear them whenever he and his dad were invited to. They were bottle green. Unlike his old clothes, though, these did not had the Potter family crest.

Ron made a loud noise of disgust behind him. "What is that supposed to be?"

Harry looked and saw Ron holding up a maroon colored dress robes that had a moldy looking lace frill at the color and matching lace cuffs.

"Dress Robes," Harry said. "You know, for formal occasions?"

"I know what dress robes are, but this doesn't look like dress robes," Ron said. "It looks like it's meant for girls."

There was a knock on the door, and Mrs. Weasley entered, carrying an armful of freshly laundered Hogwarts robes.

"Here you are," she said, sorting them into piles. "Now, mind you pack them properly, so they don't crease."

"Mum, what is this?" Ron showed her dress robes.

"That's your Dress Robes. It says on your school list that you're supposed to have dress robes this year… robes for formal occasions."

"That's what I told Ron," Harry said.

"I'm not wearing that, no way." Ron complained.

"Everyone wears them, Ron!" said Mrs. Weasley. "They're all like that. Your fathers got some for smart parties!"

"I'll go starkers before I put that on," said Ron stubbornly.

"Don't be so silly," said Mrs. Weasley. "You've got to have dress robes, they're on your list! Harry got one too."

"Yeah, but his looks normal," Ron said. "Why couldn't I have some like that?"

"Because… well, I had to get yours secondhand, and there wasn't a lot of choice!" said Mrs. Weasley flushing. "James gave me a couple of his old dress robes for Fred and George to wear, but they wouldn't fit you."

Harry was not surprise. He and James tried to help the Weasleys as best as they can, but when it comes to robes, Ron Percy and Bill were too tall to fit in any of James' old robes whereas Charlie, Fred, and George came close enough. Ginny was the only one that had robes that was slightly big on her even with her short stature because Lilly was slightly taller than her at her age.

"I'm never wearing them," Ron was saying stubbornly. "Never."

"Fine," snapped Mrs. Weasley. "Go naked. And, Harry, made sure you get a picture of him. Goodness knows I could do with a laugh."

She left the room slamming the door behind her. There was a funny sputtering noise from behind them. Pig was choking on an overlarge Owl Treat.

"Why is everything I own rubbish?" said Ron furiously, striding across the room to unstick Pig's beak.

"You bought Pig," Harry reminded him.

"Yeah, and look where it got me!" Ron responded freeing his owl.

A/N: If you guys haven't guess since Scrimgeour was Head of Aurors before becoming Minister of Magic, he's mention as Sirius' and Tonks' boss since they're Aurors.