"HP: Too Late, System!"Chapter 364: So, What Exactly Did George and Fred Do?
Everyone turned to see Luna Lovegood standing not far away.
Her trademark protuberant eyes shimmered with a dreamy light, and a necklace of butterbeer corks dangled from her neck.
"Minister Fudge might just be a puppet," she said serenely. "The real mastermind behind all this could be the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. They're experts at mind control—especially when it comes to people obsessed with power."
A few students exchanged glances, their expressions caught somewhere between amusement and confusion.
The Ravenclaw boy from before muttered under his breath, "Honestly, it'd be more convincing to say he's under Professor Holmes's control. Those methods sound way too much like the Professor's style. I've studied his—"
Smack!
A classmate gave him a sharp pat on the back, then glanced around cautiously as if checking for eavesdroppers.
The boy with glasses shrugged and addressed Luna: "Crumple-Horned Snorkacks only exist in… well, legends."
Luna smiled mysteriously, as if privy to secrets far beyond their reach. "That's just what the Ministry wants you to think. The truth is often hidden in the most unlikely places. Take this so-called 'Werewolf Friend Program'—it sounds lovely, but who knows? Maybe those registration forms really are for recruiting future werewolf stormtroopers."
With that, she drifted away, leaving the students bewildered and a little windswept in her wake.
The glasses-wearing boy snapped The Quibbler shut and shook his head hard. "The Ministry might be unreliable, but even they wouldn't go that far… right?"
After leaving Sirius's office, Harry made his way straight back to the Gryffindor common room.
He'd barely squeezed through the portrait hole when his excitement nearly sent him sprawling face-first onto the carpet.
Steadying himself, he cleared his throat and announced, "Ahem! I'm back!"
Ron was listlessly shuffling a stack of parchment on the table, trying his best to look busy. Neville sat in a corner, making adjustments to the schedule Hermione had given him. Hermione and Ginny were huddled over a pile of books, deep in research.
Despite Harry's dramatic entrance, no one looked up.
He tried again. "Hey, everyone, I've got fantastic news!"
Ron glanced up, his face the picture of despair. "Unless you've convinced Hermione to turn this into a summer holiday slacker guide, I don't want to hear about it."
The others didn't even pause in their work.
Harry frowned. "Aren't you even curious whether I succeeded? Can you guess who I went to see?"
Without looking up, Hermione replied, "Director Black agreed to your plan. You probably didn't see Professor Holmes."
Seeing Harry's puzzled look, Ginny explained, "Percy came by earlier and told us the Professor wasn't in his office, so Sirius would definitely say yes to your request. I don't really get why, but Hermione does."
She shrugged and turned back to her notes.
Harry's excitement fizzled out instantly. So everyone else had figured out Sirius's approach, and he'd been agonizing over it for nothing.
He flopped down next to Ron.
"Anyway, Sirius didn't just agree to let us go to Godric's Hollow—he wants us to submit an application to the Administrative Office. Then he'll issue an official certificate, so we'll be recognized as an official summer club activity!
He'll be our chaperone himself, and he'll send owl letters to everyone's parents.
Oh, and he's covering all the expenses, including Muggle money, and he's even willing to act as our supervising instructor."
Ron perked up immediately. "You mean the Director of the Administrative Office is coming with us? Honestly, I'd rather have Professor Holmes. But if it's all expenses paid, does that mean we can request funding for top-notch restoration tools? Or… maybe grab some snacks too?"
Sirius's reputation among the students lately hadn't been great. Even though he hadn't targeted Harry specifically, he was known for being strict—almost as tough as Professor McGonagall, and just as fair to both Slytherin and Gryffindor.
Neville piped up, "Director Black as our chaperone? It's not that he's a bad person, but he's… well, terrifying. Even the Slytherins have been avoiding him lately.
And after last night, with George and Fred… uh, sorry, I promised I wouldn't say anything… but can't we get a different professor?"
Everyone's eyes snapped to Neville, hungry for gossip. He quickly ducked his head, pretending to check his schedule.
Ron leaned in, grinning, "Oi, Neville, you came back so late last night—did you see something? Spill it…"
Neville clenched his teeth and shook his head furiously.
Hermione finally set down her quill and calmly came to Neville's rescue. "Ron, leave Neville alone. If you really want to know, just ask George, Fred, or Director Black yourself.
Harry, it does sound promising. But did Director Black mention any specific restoration plans?
For example, if there are lingering traces of Dark Magic, what special counter-curse potions or protective spells should we prepare?
And about the funding—when he says 'all expenses covered,' is there a budget limit, or is it unlimited reimbursement?
If it's the latter, we should draft a detailed supply list to avoid unnecessary waste."
Ron rolled his eyes. "Hermione, I was just joking. Can't I just be happy for once? Details are the devil, but right now the devil can take a holiday."
Hermione handed Harry a freshly written piece of parchment. "Having Director Black as our chaperone really does solve a lot of safety issues.
Harry, I've already done some preliminary planning for restoring buildings badly damaged by Dark Magic—stuff we can get started on during these last two days at school."
Ginny, acting as Hermione's assistant, chimed in, "I say we hold a Charon Detective Society meeting at noon and divvy up the tasks!"
Escaping Ron's questions, Neville quickly added, "Hermione, don't forget—all the class reps from every year and subject have to help their main subject professors with grading this afternoon."
Hermione pursed her lips, a little uneasy. "That's exactly why I've drawn up this preliminary task list. Harry, Ron—the supervision duties for these two days are up to you.
I want this finished before we leave for the train."
After all, everyone present except Harry and Ron were class representatives.
Ron stared at the long list, then let his head collapse onto the table with a groan.
London.
Surrey.
Douglas's house.
Sunlight slipped through the curtains, falling directly onto the noisy golden snitch alarm clock perched on the bedside table.
The clock was a gift from Charlie Weasley to Douglas.
When the time came, it would automatically zip over to its owner's ear, its wings buzzing with a persistent hum. If you ignored it for more than ten minutes, it would puff out a cloud of awakening smoke right in your face.
Yawning, Douglas washed up, ruffling his messy hair as he headed downstairs.
"Good morning, sir!"
PS: Golden Snitch Alarm Clock
Maker: Charlie Weasley Appearance: Retains the classic walnut-sized metal sphere design, with a shell plated in memory alloy and etched with magical runes. The body is a brilliant gold, paired with color-changing silver wings (which can display flame patterns, snake-scale textures, and more depending on the mode). The "eyes" are astral-sensing crystals, with built-in micro magical gears. The antennae sport emotion-sensing velvet, and the base folds out into a Quidditch pitch-shaped stand.
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