After HP shared the dream, Lao Fu was conquered by me

"But Dad didn't," Fred said glumly. "Why?" Harry asked. "Well, it seems Fudge's been furious at the Ministry and forbade anyone to have any contact with Dumbledore," George said. "Dumbledore's had a terrible time at the Ministry these days, you know?" Fred said. "They all think he was deliberately stirring up trouble by spreading the news that You-Know-Who was back." "Dad said Fudge made it clear that anyone who had anything to do with Dumbledore would no longer be allowed at the Ministry," George said. "The thing is, Fudge's got his suspicions on Dad. He knows Dad's on good terms with Dumbledore, and Fudge's always thought Dad was a bit eccentric, obsessed with Muggles." "But what does that have to do with Percy?" Harry asked, puzzled. "That's exactly what I was getting at. Dad figures Fudge put Percy in his office so he can use him to keep an eye on our family—to keep an eye on Dumbledore." Harry whistled softly. "I bet Percy would love to hear that," Ron laughed hollowly. "He was absolutely mad. He said - well, he said a whole lot of horrible things. He said that ever since he joined the Ministry he'd been having to fight tooth and nail to get over Dad's bad reputation; and that Dad had no ambition at all, and that's why we've never had - you know - I mean, never had much money -" "What?" said Harry incredulously, and Ginny made a noise like an angry cat.

"I know," Ron said in a low voice. "And then it got worse. He said Dad was a fool for hanging around with Dumbledore, and that Dumbledore was going to be in big trouble and Dad would be in trouble with him, and that he – Percy – knew where his loyalty lay and that his loyalty was to the Ministry. He also said that if Mum and Dad insisted on betraying the Ministry, he would let everyone know that he didn't belong in the family anymore. He packed up and left that same night. He's living here in London now." Harry cursed under his breath. Ron had always disliked Percy the most of his brothers, but he had never expected Percy to say such things to Mr. Weasley.

"Mum's been fussy," said Ron. "You know, all tearful. She came down to London and tried to talk to Percy, but he slammed the door in her face. I don't know what he did when he saw Dad at work—probably just pretended not to see him."

"But Percy must have known Voldemort was back," Harry said slowly. "He's no fool. He must have known your parents wouldn't take any chances without proof." "Well, your name got dragged into the argument later," Ron said, glancing furtively at Harry. "Percy said the only proof was what you said, and—I'm not sure—he didn't think that was enough."

"Percy took the Daily Prophet seriously," Hermione said sharply, and the others nodded. "What are you talking about?" Harry asked, looking at each of them in turn. They all watched him cautiously. "Don't you - don't you always get the Daily Prophet?" Hermione asked uneasily. "Yes, always!" Harry said. "Did you - um - didn't you read it carefully?" Hermione asked, her tone even more uneasy. "Not from beginning to end," Harry said sensitively. "If they were going to do something about Voldemort, it would be front-page news, wouldn't it?" The others shrank at the mention of the name. Hermione continued hurriedly. "Oh, you'd have to read it from beginning to end to see that they - um - they mention you once or twice a week." "But I don't see -"

"You wouldn't have seen it if you'd only read the first edition," said Hermione, shaking her head. "I don't mean the whole article. They just mentioned you in passing, as a joke."

"What did you say—?"

"Indeed, it's utterly abominable," Hermione said, forcing her voice to remain calm. "They're basing their argument on Rita's nonsense."

"But she doesn't write for them anymore, does she?"

"Oh, no, she kept her promise—she had no choice," Hermione explained complacently, "but she laid the foundation for what they're going to do now."

"What are they going to do?" Harry asked impatiently.

"Look, you know what she said in the article about you making trouble everywhere, saying your scar hurts and all that?"

"Yeah," said Harry, who wasn't likely to forget the nonsense Rita Skeeter had told him any time soon.

"Now they write about you as if you were some deluded, attention-seeking idiot who thinks he's some tragic hero or something," Hermione said quickly, as if it would be less unpleasant for Harry to hear the facts quickly. "They're constantly making casual, mean comments about you. If there's a story that's completely baseless, they say things like 'Only Harry Potter could make that up,' and if someone gets into some ridiculous accident, they say 'I hope he doesn't get a scar on his forehead, or he'll start asking us to worship him'—" "I don't want anyone's admiration—" said Harry angrily.

"I know you don't want to," Hermione said quickly, looking terrified. "I know, Harry. But do you understand what they're doing? They're trying to turn you into someone no one would believe. Fudge's behind it, I'll bet. They want the wizards and witches out there to think you're just a silly boy, a laughingstock, full of ridiculous stories, just to get ahead of themselves and keep it that way."

"I didn't ask—I didn't want—Voldemort to kill my parents!" Harry sputtered. "I'm famous because he killed my family and couldn't kill me! Who wants to be famous for that? Don't they know I'd rather never have—"

"We know, Harry," Ginny said sincerely.

"Of course, they haven't said a word about the Dementors attacking you," said Hermione. "Someone must have told them not to report it. Otherwise it would have been a great story. Dementors out of control! They didn't even report your breaking the International Statute of Secrecy. We figured they'd have liked to, it would have suited your image as a publicity-seeking idiot. We figured they were waiting for you to get expelled, and then they could really run wild – I mean, if you were expelled, obviously," she went on hurriedly, "but as long as they abide by their own laws, the odds are against you." They were back on the trial again, and Harry didn't want to think about it. He was about to change the subject, but then there was the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and there was no need to bother trying. "Ouch." Fred tugged at the retractable ear. There was another bang, and he and George were gone. A few seconds later, Mrs. Weasley appeared in the bedroom doorway. "The meeting is over, you can come downstairs for dinner now. Harry, everyone is eager to see you. By the way, who left so many dung balls outside the kitchen door?" "Crookshanks," Ginny said without blushing, "he loves playing with dung balls."

"Oh," said Mrs. Weasley, "I thought it was Kreacher, he always does eccentric things like that. Now, don't forget to keep your voices down in the hall. And Ginny, why are your hands so filthy? Where have you been? Go wash them before dinner."

Ginny made a face at the others and followed her mother out, leaving Harry alone with Ron and Hermione. The two of them looked at Harry worriedly, as if they were afraid that he would start yelling again once the others left. Harry felt a little embarrassed to see how nervous they were. "Um?" he stammered, but Ron shook his head, and Hermione said softly, "We know you'll be angry, Harry, and we really don't blame you, but you have to understand that we did try to convince Dumbledore -"

"Okay, I get it," Harry said irritably. He wanted to change the subject to something that had nothing to do with the Headmaster. Every time he thought of Dumbledore, Harry's anger boiled over again. "Who's Kreacher?" he asked. "A house-elf who lives here," said Ron. "A lunatic. Never seen anything like him."

Hermione frowned at Ron.

"He's not crazy, Ron."

"His biggest ambition in life is to cut his head off and stick it on a plaque like his mother's," said Ron impatiently. "Is that normal, Hermione?"

"Well—but even if he's a little eccentric, it's not his fault."

Ron rolled his eyes at Harry.

"Hermione still hasn't given up on her 'vomiting'."

"Not 'vomit'!" said Hermione angrily. "It's the House-Elf Rights Society. And not just me, the acronym for the House-Elf Rights Society is 'sPEw', which sounds like 'spew'.

"Expulsion, apparently," she went on hurriedly, "actually you wouldn't, as long as they abide by their own laws, the situation won't be against you." They were back on the subject of the trial, and Harry didn't want to think about it. He wanted to change the subject, but when he heard footsteps on the stairs, he didn't need to bother looking for a topic. "Ouch." Fred gave the retractable ear a sharp tug. There was another pop, and both he and George disappeared. Seconds later, Mrs. Weasley appeared in the bedroom doorway.