"Have you seen this?"
Harry looked up from where he was persistently chewing on his breakfast, swallowing his larger-than-sensible bite of toast whole. He was glad of the distraction as Hermione tore her watchful eye off him and focused on Ron. Harry loved her and was touched she wanted to make him breakfast for his birthday, but Hermione's cooking needed some work – he was pretty sure toast wasn't supposed to taste like cardboard and have the consistency of coal.
"What is it?" Harry asked, hoping he didn't sound too relieved and failing if the look Hermione shot him was any indication.
Ron held up The Daily Prophet and Harry blinked at the headline he saw there.
Ministry of Magic in Chaos: Evil Mastermind Baffles Officials with Unexplainable and Extravagant Stunt.
Fountain of Magical Breathren Full of Sardines, 50 dung bombs activated in The Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Floo system clogged with Hippogriff Feathers and Nifflers released in Minister's Office.
"What?" Hermione said, snatching the paper out of Ron's hands and skimming the page. Ron gave a mumbled protest before diving back into his scrambled eggs. Harry saw him grimace but soldier on, used to Hermione's culinary skills by now. "This is awful! How are we supposed to get to work! We're going to be late."
"The normal way?" Harry suggested.
Hermione frowned and threw the paper at him. "Doubt it."
Harry scrambled to catch it and with mounting curiosity started to read.
First thing this morning, ministry employees started arriving to work, not expecting their day to be any different to their normal 9-to-5 routine. Instead, they were greeted with an exceptional sight and one that has yet to be explained by high-ranking officials, Ministry spokespeople, or aurors.
"Look, we don't know how this individual – or a group of individuals – managed to pull this off," Head Auror Robards stated to this reporter, a bubble-head charm surrounding him and a fragrance charm imbedded into his clothes, having little effect on the pungent odour following him. "Only a few employees were stationed in The Ministry overnight so there were few witnesses, but our security team and monitoring charms reported no suspicious activity. Rest assured, the auror department are investigating and will bring the perpetrator to justice."
This proclamation is of little reassurance to the hundreds of employees currently unable to work – and in some cases, unable to move – and has been received with an incredible lack of confidence from those in-the-know.
"If the auror department and those in positions of power here were unaware this was going to happen despite having a huge intelligence network, how are they going to find out who is responsible?" A disgruntled employee said, plucking Hippogriff feathers from his hair.
"We're at a loss," an inside source close to the minister admitted, searching his pockets for his wallet. "There's no way this should've been possible to do in one night, it must've been planned months in advance. Honestly, we're not expecting to ever have an explanation. The perpetrator left no evidence behind."
The true extent of the pranks has yet to be discovered as the situation continues to develop, with more and more tricks being discovered by the hour. As this reporter was completing this crucial article, word came that The Department of Magical Games and Sports opened a filing cabinet and between 25 and 50 charmed broomsticks – mostly the FireBlaze, Firebolt, and Nimbus brooms – flew out with no known spells managing to stabilise them. There is also a rumour that the Unspeakables have been locked inside The Department of Mysteries – though this has not been verified – and the walls of the court rooms have been charmed to reveal offensive comments at whoever walks past.
It will be interesting to see what advances are made in the investigation of the incident some are calling 'a heinous crime' and others are calling 'a fun prank that got us the day off work.' However, it took an extraordinary amount of magic and preparation to execute a stunt this extravagant without being discovered, and the evil mastermind has likely covered his tracks. Therefore, it is unlikely the culprit, or culprits, will be found but rest assured, dear readers, as soon as we hear more we will endeavour to inform you immediately.
"Well, guess we get the day off, then."
"Ronald!" Hermione slapped Ron on the arm.
"Ow!" Ron said, rubbing his arm to sooth the pain. Harry thought he was milking it a bit. "What the Hell, Hermione!"
"This isn't funny!" Hermione said. "This is people's livelihoods! People depend on their jobs to feed their families and for some people losing one day of work is the equivalent of losing a meal for the day, the only thing standing between them and destitution. And the wizarding world relies on the Ministry to function. Without the auror department active, crime will increase and criminals might get away if it's true the courts are off limits."
"It's one day, Hermione. The world won't come crashing down around us."
"One day is all that matters. The backlog this is going to cause in the departments will be horrendous." Ron didn't seem to be taking it as seriously as Hermione wanted so she glared at him and her tone became sickly sweet, the one she usually reserved for when Ron was being stupid and an indication he was in serious trouble. "For instance, let's say the employees of the Department of Magical Games and Sports can't work for all of today and tomorrow. Isn't there a game on Saturday between some big teams? That probably won't go ahead now."
"What? The Chudley Canons are playing Saturday!"
Harry tried not to laugh. It wasn't really a 'big team' game like Hermione seemed to think, but no doubt Ron had been chirping on about it for months and that's where she got the idea. Of course, the truth didn't matter because either way that would get to Ron. Screw crime and law and regulations, nobody kept the Canons from playing.
"Well, they probably won't be anymore."
Ron frowned, "The Prophet was right. Whoever did this is an evil mastermind. The bastard got Quidditch cancelled."
Hermione sighed and shot a glance at the newspaper still in Harry's hands. "Who would do something like this?"
"A wackjob with too much imagination, too much evilness and too much free time," Ron said grumpily before pausing. "You know what, I'm gonna firecall George and ask him if this was him."
"George knows your feelings about the Canons. He wouldn't do that," Harry tried to assure him, but he didn't really believe it himself. It was exactly the sort of thing George would do.
"Oh, yes he would. He'd do it because of my feelings." It was Ron's time to sigh. "Well, there's one good thing to come out of this."
"What's that?" Harry asked curiously. Personally, he thought it wasn't great the Ministry had been hit; it meant extra work for them and if The Prophet was right (always a possibility) there was a good chance they'd be coming home smelling of dung bombs – a smell that was notoriously difficult to get out of fabric. But he had to admit the pranks were funny and seemed harmless. Nobody was hurt so there was no sinister motive, and if he knew he wouldn't be forced to work in that environment he'd actually be rolling on the floor laughing whilst Hermione glared at him.
Ron twirled his finger in a circle, indicating Harry should turn the page.
Harry did and his eyes skimmed the page searching for what Ron wanted him to see. After a moment he found a small paragraph in the bottom corner of page 2, with a headline that read: Boy-Who-Lived Celebrates His Birthday.
A quick flick through of the rest of the paper revealed nothing else Harry-related which was a miracle on a normal day, let alone his birthday. He met Ron's eyes with amazement.
Ron nodded in agreement. "At least they aren't focusing on your birthday this year, Harry. They've got bigger things to worry about. Maybe we can actually go out tonight and have a peaceful year."
Harry stilled, his mind flashing back to a year ago when he'd said a very similar thing to Malfoy as they hid in that dark alley: how every year reporters and fans ruined his birthday and he wanted a year free of that so he could spend it with his loved ones. And then Malfoy's response…
"Leave it with me, Potter."
No. No way. He wouldn't. This couldn't have been what Malfoy's cryptic statement meant.
Nifflers, Hippogriff feathers, Quidditch brooms, Fish, dung bombs, and items charmed with offensive comments. They were all things that had come up in conversations he'd had with Malfoy, or something they'd done in school. Harry distinctively remembered Malfoy's skill with charms when he made those 'Potter Stinks' badges in Fourth Year, so it was within his capabilities. Plus, Malfoy had the money, imagination, and sheer determination – some may say stubbornness - to pull it off. Then of course there was his vindictive streak a mile long.
Perhaps it was just a coincidence. Harry had jumped to conclusions before and been devastatingly wrong, but he'd like to think he knew Malfoy better than that.
Harry flicked quickly back to the front page and his eyes darted around the photograph there, searching for anything that would prove his theory or screamed Malfoy. It took him less than ten seconds to find it, and he had to shake his head in amazement at the audacity of the blonde.
Malfoy was leaning casually against one of the clogged up floos that had feathers spilling out of it, watching the chaos in front of him with his arms crossed and an obvious smirk plastered across his face.
As if sensing Harry's attention, Photo-Malfoy turned to face the camera and winked.
Harry started laughing, and when Photo-Malfoy grinned at him he found he couldn't stop, his laugh becoming louder and more uncontrollable. He bent over and started gasping for air as tears formed in his eyes. He thought he'd got himself under control but one glance at the paper had him starting all over again. He couldn't remember the last time he laughed like that, where his stomach hurt and he couldn't breathe, and the fact that it was because of Malfoy somehow made the situation even funnier.
"Harry!" Hermione said.
Harry looked up automatically at his name to see Ron and Hermione gawping at him. They looked shocked, which was understandable as their best friend had just suddenly burst out into hysterical laughter without there seeming to be a trigger or reason for it. He wouldn't blame them if they sent him to the spell damage ward for delayed war-related injuries.
"Sorry," Harry said, still chuckling and his cheeks aching from how much he was smiling. He held up the newspaper. "Can I keep this?"
"Yes, but-"
"Thanks." Harry pushed his chair back and stood up, glancing down at the paper again and grinning. "I'll see you later."
He walked out the room, feeling Ron and Hermione's confusion practically radiating off them and their alarmed eyes following him as he left.
As he was passing the living room the floo flared to life.
Harry stuck his head in the room and saw Auror Cassidy's head floating there, searching for someone to talk too.
Harry strolled in, hoping his smile had dimmed enough to not look completely manic.
"Cassidy," Harry greeted. "How are you?"
It was hard to tell with the flames distorting her face and ash swirling around her, but the look on her face appeared to be less than amused. She was in a bad mood, and if she was supposed to be working this morning, Harry had a good idea about why – and because of who - that was.
"Don't bother coming in today."
Harry couldn't help the snicker that escaped him. Cassidy didn't take that well and flickered out of existence, ending the call before Harry could respond.
Harry shook his head and headed happily to his bedroom to get ready.
He knew exactly how he was going to spend his suddenly free day.