Naturally, there are people in this world as stupid as pigs; after all, with billions of people, there are bound to be a few swine.
Those sitting in the position of a country's Minister are, of course, not all shrewd individuals either.
As the saying goes, the world is merely a giant, makeshift stage—just as the British could never have imagined that their best post-Cold War Prime Minister would turn out to be Jim Hacker from a comedy series.
That is just how it is these days; finding a reliable politician is harder than ascending to the heavens.
And Fudge is clearly a typical pest; the phrase "great ambition but little talent" doesn't even apply to him.
Why?
To have "great ambition but little talent," you first have to actually have ambition!
What does Fudge have?
All he thinks about day in and day out is how to keep his seat as Minister for Magic. He never thinks about bringing positive change to the British wizarding world. He isn't even a standard pest!
Thus, even someone as tolerant as Dumbledore found it hard to tolerate a man like Fudge occupying the position of Minister any longer.
However, everyone reached a consensus: Fudge definitely had to step down, but his removal had to be achieved through a series of legal struggles, not by a strongman stepping forward to forcibly drag him off his horse.
After all, it hasn't been long since the British wizarding world endured Voldemort's chaos, and in the eyes of the public, Fudge hasn't committed any major faults.
If such a situation occurred—especially since Fudge has his own confidants within the Ministry—forcibly dragging him down would inevitably cause secondary trauma to the already riddled British wizarding world.
After a small meeting in the Headmaster's office, Harry returned to the Gryffindor common room.
Veratia also left Hogwarts; she was returning to Vienna to handle the merger with Hungary—this had been her long-cherished wish.
"Care for a riddle, Harry?"
The Sphinx's voice rang out. Harry looked up to see that beautiful face staring at him.
In the middle of the night, to be honest, it was quite terrifying.
This was exactly why the Sphinx usually worked the day shift, while the Fat Lady took the night shift.
"Why is it you? Where's the Fat Lady?" Harry asked curiously.
"The Fat Lady went on a date with her girlfriend," the Sphinx said with a smile. "I still can't quite understand you humans; emotions are so... incomprehensible to me."
"You'll get used to it after you see enough of it," Harry chuckled. "Didn't I already solve a riddle tonight? Why do I have to do it again?"
"That was in the maze, where your goal wasn't to enter the common room, but to retrieve the Triwizard Cup," the Sphinx blinked slyly.
"Fine," Harry spread his hands. "What can I say? State your riddle."
The Sphinx cleared her throat.
"What can run but never walks, has a mouth but never talks, has a head but never weeps, has a bed but never sleeps?"
"River," Harry answered quickly.
"Congratulations, you may enter the common room."
The Sphinx jumped aside, clearing the path.
Inside the Gryffindor common room, classmates were still waiting for Harry.
Seeing him walk in, everyone cheered.
"Welcome home, champion!" the Weasley twins shouted loudly, setting off a pack of Filibuster's Fireworks.
These were magical fireworks, so setting them off in the dormitory posed no problem.
If they had been Muggle fireworks, the twins probably would have set the entire Hogwarts castle on fire.
Everyone gathered around, encircling Harry and bringing him to the table, seating him in the most prominent spot.
"Tonight is a carnival!" Angelina Johnson shouted. "We've already decided—no one in Gryffindor sleeps tonight!"
"And Hufflepuff!" Cedric shouted.
"And Ravenclaw!" Luna's ethereal voice chimed in.
"And, of course, Slytherin!" Draco added, looking smug and arrogant.
"Cheers!" they shouted in unison, raising their mugs of Butterbeer with happy smiles.
After downing the Butterbeer, the twins shouted together, "Let's sing the Hogwarts school song! How about it? Let's pick a tune..."
"The Funeral March?" Ron recalled the bizarre tune the twins had sung in their first year, and his face turned the color of an eggplant.
Merlin's beard, he did not want to sing a duet with his brothers!
"That's not a good idea, Ron!" Fred grinned. "I think using that tune on such a festive occasion would be a real killjoy—how about the Wedding March instead?"
"That could work..." Ron beamed, "but it still doesn't quite fit the style."
"Then let it be 'We Are the Champions'," suggested the Muggle-born Justin Finch-Fletchley. "'We Are the Champions' by Queen—you've all heard it, right?"
It had to be admitted that Queen's reputation was indeed massive.
Even wizards had heard of this song, released in 1977.
"Of course!" everyone shouted. "That song is absolutely perfect! Let's sing that instead of the school song!"
The proposal received unanimous approval.
"I'll start!" Justin stood on the table, raising his wand in the air. "I've paid my dues... Ready, go!"
With someone leading, everyone began to sing along to the beat.
Harry happily took out his wand to provide the accompaniment.
As the chorus approached, students wrapped their arms around each other's shoulders and sang loudly.
"We are the champions, my friends!"
"And we'll keep on fighting 'til the end!"
At that moment, Colin raised his camera and pressed the shutter, freezing this happy, carefree moment in a photograph.
They partied until the latter half of the night before reluctantly dispersing.
This was the final celebration for the seventh-year students; after the holidays, they would leave the school and embark on their journey into society.
After the Triwizard Tournament, there were still a few final lessons to wrap up.
Dumbledore believed that with Voldemort's return, students should use every available moment to learn.
Since Barty Crouch Jr. was brought to justice, the Defense Against the Dark Arts position had been vacant. Just when everyone thought there would be no more DADA classes, Snape suddenly appeared in the classroom.
This was truly depressing; after all, no one wanted to attend Snape's classes, whether Potions or Defense Against the Dark Arts.
But there was no way to resist, and since resistance was impossible, they had to passively accept it.
The one who suffered most was Ron. Ever since he had a confrontation with Snape in the Great Hall, Snape had targeted him.
In one class alone, he lost fourteen points.
Snape was happy, but his happiness was built on Ron's suffering.
Draco, gloating at Ron's misfortune, spent the whole class grinning, but by the end of the lesson, he couldn't laugh anymore.
"Mr. Malfoy," Snape's oily voice rang out. "Since you enjoy smiling so much, then... during the summer holidays, you will write an extra essay on Defense Against the Dark Arts."
The smile didn't disappear; it simply transferred to Ron's face.
"Serves him right," Ron whispered to Hermione in the Great Hall, gloating. "I felt it coming for him, but he just wouldn't stop..."
There were no classes on Friday afternoon, so Harry planned to visit Hagrid.
He brought Hermione and Ron along to Hagrid's hut.
It was a bright, sunny day. As soon as they approached, Fang jumped out of the open door, barking happily and wagging his tail.
"Who is it?" Hagrid asked as he walked to the door. "Harry!"
He strode over to welcome them, pulled Harry into a tight hug with one thick arm, ruffled his hair, and said, "Good to see you, mate—good to see you."
They entered Hagrid's hut and saw two bucket-sized teacups and saucers on the wooden table in front of the fire.
"Had a cup of tea with Olympe," Hagrid said. "She just left."
"Madame Maxime?" Hermione asked with a teasing smile. "How are things going between you two? Are you getting married soon? Come on, tell us, Hagrid!"
"Ah, there's nothin' to tell."
Though he said that, Hagrid couldn't stop grinning foolishly.
Any fool could see that Hagrid and Madame Maxime's relationship was heating up rapidly.
Barring any accidents, they would definitely end up together.
This was all thanks to Sirius; if not for his unsparing assistance, Hagrid, with his blunt nature, might have upset Madame Maxime long ago.
They stayed at Hagrid's all afternoon before leaving.
The day before the holidays, the school prepared the Leaving Feast as usual.
When Harry walked into the Great Hall, it was decorated in Gryffindor's gold and red, just like in previous years, making it look as if the Hall belonged to Gryffindor.
Seeing Harry enter, students waved and cheered for him.
The real Mad-Eye Moody was now sitting at the staff table. His wooden leg and magical eye had returned to their proper places. He appeared extremely jittery; whenever anyone spoke to him, he jumped in startlement.
Harry knew he couldn't be blamed—after all, being locked in his own trunk for ten months would certainly aggravate his paranoia about being attacked.
Karkaroff sat in his seat, looking extremely relaxed and quite happy.
As Harry sat down with the other Gryffindors, he thought that Karkaroff must have confirmed that Voldemort would no longer interfere with his normal life.
This was a good thing. Since Karkaroff had paid for his past crimes during the trials, escaping that shadow and Voldemort's control was ultimately positive.
Noticing Harry's gaze, Karkaroff raised his goblet of wine and made a toasting gesture toward Harry.
Although he was annoying, Harry nodded back to greet him.
Veratia had put it well: a great person once said to unite all forces that can be united.
Who knows, Karkaroff might be useful someday.
Madame Maxime was sitting next to Hagrid; they were whispering about something and looked very happy.
Further down the table, sitting next to Professor McGonagall, was Snape.
When Harry looked at him, Snape's gaze lingered on Harry for a moment—his expression was hard to read, looking as gloomy as ever, but upon noticing Harry's gaze, Snape managed a forced smile.
It was evident that even if he didn't like Harry's face, Snape was willing to start accepting him anew.
After all, James had reconciled with him, and Harry hadn't done anything to anger him; in fact, Harry had been quite decent to him.
Once the Great Hall was fully seated, Dumbledore stood up.
The Hall fell silent, and the students stopped their whispering.
"Another year," Dumbledore said, looking at everyone, "gone."
Dumbledore's tone was quite heavy when he said this, which made everyone curious. After all, the champion of the Triwizard Tournament was a Hogwarts champion, so why was his tone so grave?
"According to tradition, we need to announce the points for each house, but I feel we should skip this step. After all, Gryffindor student and Hogwarts champion Harry Potter successfully claimed the Triwizard Tournament championship. I believe no one will object to awarding Gryffindor some points for this, even though Gryffindor is already the undisputed winner."
Cheers erupted in the Hall.
"Of course, I must also announce that Harry Potter has once again received the Special Award for Services to the School. This is his fourth time receiving this award since he began his studies."
At this point, Dumbledore raised a hand to quell the students' cheering.
"The Ministry of Magic does not wish for me to tell you this," Dumbledore continued, "but I must explain the truth—the real reason why Harry Potter has received the Special Award for Services to the School for four consecutive years. It is time for the mystery to be revealed!"
The students held their breath in unison, waiting for Dumbledore to uncover the truth.
They never expected there to be an inside story behind Harry's four consecutive awards!
"First, I must tell you that Voldemort is not dead."
As soon as Dumbledore's words fell, the Great Hall seemed to explode with a loud boom.
The expressions on the students' faces varied—some were confused, some terrified, some stunned, and others looked as if it didn't concern them.
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