People in Hogwarts, holding scripts and systems

Ron's eyes widened in surprise. He slowly turned his head to look at Afro and Harry, who had serious expressions.

"What did he—want us to do?"

Scrimgeour looked up and saw four little heads sticking out of the window. "We need to talk in private. Is there a place like that?"

Mr. Weasley and Molly exchanged an uneasy look before nodding and saying, "Of course, the living room will do."

Scrimgeour waved his hand without speaking, walked into the room alone, and sat down in the shabby armchair that Mr. Weasley usually sat in.

"I'm sure you know that I'm here regarding Dumbledore's will."

Ron and Hermione looked at each other and repeated uncertainly, "I—we both? Me and Hermione?"

Scrimgeour gave a professional smile. "Yes, you all have—"

"Dumbledore has been dead for more than a month. Why are you taking so long to give us his things?" Harry interrupted him.

"The Ministry of Magic wants to check, but you have no right to do that." Hermione said in a trembling voice.

"We have the right, under the Justifiable Seizure Act—" said Scrimgeour scornfully.

"That law is to prevent wizards from transferring dark magic items. Do you mean that Dumbledore will leave us evil things?" Afro cleared his throat and took the tea away from him.

Ron and Harry laughed at her actions, and Scrimgeour glanced at them and then away.

"Are you planning on going into magical law, Miss Campbell?"

"No, we just want to do some good," Hermione retorted bluntly.

Scrimgeour coughed awkwardly, pretending not to understand their taunting.

He reached into his cloak and pulled out a bag, from which he pulled out a roll of parchment.

"The will and testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore..."

Scrimgeour took out something like a lighter and handed it to Ron. "My Deluminator is for Ron Bilius Weasley..."

Ron took the Deluminator with a look of astonishment. He looked it up and down, and his reluctant look made Scrimgeour roll his eyes.

"It's precious. It was designed by Dumbledore himself. It's one of a kind. Why would he leave it to you?"

Ron shook his head blankly.

Scrimgeour stubbornly tried to ask them some questions about Dumbledore, but Ron accidentally dodged all of his questions.

He squinted at them for a moment, then continued to read aloud with his head down: "I leave my copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard to Hermione Jean Granger. I hope she likes it."

Hermione wordlessly took the book and placed it on her knees, a tear falling on the symbols Harry couldn't understand.

"Miss Granger, why do you think Dumbledore left this book with you?"

Hermione wiped her face and said hoarsely, "I like books. Headmaster Dumbledore knows that."

“Why this book?”

"Why do you have so many questions? Are there any more? We are all waiting to eat!" Afro impatiently reached out to snatch the parchment from Scrimgeour's hand, but he raised his arm to avoid it.

Ron suppressed a laugh and pulled his arm out from between Harry and him, and put his arm around Afro's shoulders.

"What I left to Afro Albert Campbell was a two-story house in Godric's Hollow. I hope she will remember that no matter where she is, there is always a warm harbor."

Scrimgeour handed Avro a brass key and looked at her coldly with inquiring eyes.

"Why did Dumbledore give you a house?"

"How should I know? Maybe he thinks I need a house?" Afro took the key nonchalantly and threw it up twice.

"As far as I know, the Campbell family has no shortage of houses—"

“But no one would complain about having too few houses.”

"I suppose you've already been to this house? If you can't discover what's hidden, then neither can we." Hermione scoffed loudly, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

Avro hugged Hermione and patted her arm.

Scrimgeour turned his gaze to the parchment and continued reading: "I leave this to Harry James Potter: the Golden Snitch he caught in his first Quidditch match. I hope he will..."

After reading the will, he asked the classic question again.

Harry shrugged and said, "For the reasons you mentioned."

Scrimgeour didn't believe at all that Dumbledore had left nothing behind for Harry. There must be a secret in the Golden Snitch!

It’s a pity that he will never know today, or ever.

"Minister, have you finished reading the will?" Afro was the first to stand up, looking down at the gray-haired Scrimgeour: "Then we won't keep you for dinner."

"It's not over yet." Scrimgeour seemed a little irritated at this moment, "Dumbledore also gave Potter something, it is Godric Gryffindor's sword."

Harry's mood became excited again, and he turned his head to look for the ruby-inlaid sword, but it was obvious that Scrimgeour's small pocket could not hold the sword.

"The sword is an important artifact. Dumbledore has no right to give it to anyone else."

"It belongs to Harry!" said Hermione excitedly. "It chose Harry..."

"Does Dumbledore think that only the sword can defeat the Heir of Slytherin?" Scrimgeour roared.

"Interesting idea. Perhaps the Ministry of Magic should ask someone to give it a try." Afro said calmly, "It's okay. We will get the sword ourselves."

"Don't go too far!" Scrimgeour shouted and stood up, and Harry also jumped up.

"We should be working together, not using your scars as crowns!"

"I don't like your way," Harry said, looking him straight in the eye.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came running in from the garden and were stunned to see Harry and the Minister almost nose to nose.

"We seemed to-hear a noise."

"Nothing, I'm really sorry, Potter." Scrimgeour took a step back, his expression a little stiff.

Without a word he turned and limped out of the room.

About a minute later Bill and Percy came in and said the Minister had left.

"What does he want to do?" Percy walked up to Avro and saw a key in her palm.

"Give us what Dumbledore left us." Harry and Mr. Weasley went to the garden together and briefly recounted Dumbledore's will at the dinner table.

"Okay kids, the dinner is about to start, let's do one more check." Molly clapped her hands and asked them to check the arrangement of the chairs in the tent.

Fred and George exchanged a look and followed Harry as he left, to the corner of the house.

"Here you go." Fred handed Harry some red hair.

"And your seating chart." George handed him a slip of paper with "Cousin Barney" written on it.