Ron glanced at Hercules, the earth elemental cradled in his arms, then at the massive earth elemental towering four or five times his height on the other side. Tears welled up in his eyes.
What could he even say?
By now, even Ron could piece together what had happened. In just a short time, Harry's apprentice, Luna Lovegood, had clearly forged a bond with the earth elementals and summoned her own.
And it was huge.
The key point? It was really huge!
"I'm sorry, Hercules," Ron said, his voice trembling as he looked down at the small elemental in his arms. "It's all my fault. I'm too weak…"
How had it come to this? For the first time, he'd summoned an earth elemental and officially become a shaman. Two joyful events had converged, bringing him even more happiness. It should've been a dreamlike, blissful time. So why… why had it turned out like this?
Ron couldn't help but wonder.
Ron couldn't help but ask.
"Gurgle, gurgle?"
The earth elemental in Ron's arms made a few meaningless sounds, but its intent was clear. A stone-like arm scratched at its small head.
"What are you talking about?" Harry said, rolling his eyes. "You've already connected with the elements. That's more than most people can say."
"…You're right!" Ron straightened up, his resolve returning. "That's true—alright, Harry, let's go check it out! I'm still her senior, after all!"
His earlier frustration had come and gone quickly. Perhaps training under Snape had forged a resilient heart, but Ron now had a surprising air of nonchalance.
Before Harry and Ron could fully approach, Luna, who was crouched and talking to her elemental, sensed their arrival. Her massive earth elemental, at least twice her height, turned to look at them curiously.
"Congratulations, Luna," Harry said earnestly. "You've heard the voice of the elements and tapped into their dormant power."
Luna stood, listening quietly.
"The moment you bonded with the elements, you became a true shaman," Harry continued solemnly. "But this is only the beginning. Whether it's the path of the elements or the path of all spirits, you'll find endless mysteries waiting to be explored as you walk this road. Even a lifetime may not be enough to uncover them all."
"Stay humble, stay calm, stay honorable. Revere nature, respect your elders, and always engage in cautious, wise discussion and reflection. Never forget our mission and responsibility, and never break our creed. That's all the advice I can give you."
Harry placed a hand over his chest and bowed slightly.
"May the Earth Mother watch over you, Luna."
These were words Harry had never spoken to the other apprentices in the Shaman Club. Luna was different from them.
Having crossed two worlds and countless battlefields, enduring the impermanence of life, Harry had only one apprentice he believed could carry on his legacy.
Even for Harry, the feeling was novel and subtle… and, honestly, a bit strange.
Especially when he told Luna he had high hopes for her—a twelve-year-old saying this to an eleven-year-old. Anyone unaware of the context might think they were playing some childish game.
"Thank you," Luna said, returning a bow. Her usually dreamy eyes held a rare focus. "I'll do my best, mentor… I promise."
"Good," Harry said with a smile. "Keep working hard, Luna. Don't waste your talent."
Borrowing a line Ollivander had once told him: You'll do great things, Miss Lovegood. Great things.
Harry thought to himself.
For those immersed in their own pursuits, the holidays passed in a blur. Before they knew it, only a week and a half remained of the blissful break.
Ron had been miserable lately. He couldn't fathom why a perfectly good holiday had turned so… Percy-like. So painfully studious. In Ron's words, he'd been utterly outdone.
Outdone by Luna.
After bonding with her earth elemental, Luna had erupted with an astonishing zeal for learning. Ron claimed it was even more intense than Hermione's pre-exam frenzy.
Perhaps because Luna's massive elemental served as proof, even Mr. Lovegood had no objections. In fact, he encouraged Luna to visit the Weasleys' daily to study magic with Harry.
Though Harry suspected Mr. Lovegood wouldn't have objected even without the elemental. Over the past few weeks, Harry had finally met Luna's father, Xenophilius Lovegood.
How to put it?
Like father, like daughter—that was Harry's only conclusion.
Though he didn't say it outright, Harry could tell Xenophilius was delighted his daughter had friends her age. That was likely why he allowed Luna to study magic with Harry.
Compared to the Weasleys, the Lovegoods were indeed more reclusive.
And that was the root of Ron's suffering. He desperately wanted to play games with Harry—battle goblins, play backyard Quidditch on broomsticks, or even just cards or chess. But every time he stepped into the suitcase world and saw Luna poring over books, Ron felt utterly uncomfortable.
"It's even worse than last year at Hogwarts," Ron said.
As Harry's best mate, Ron couldn't stand being outshone by a girl younger than him—especially since they'd bonded with their elementals on the same day.
"I can't even imagine going back to school, standing in your club's first class of the term, and watching Luna summon a massive earth elemental while I'm stuck balancing Hercules on my head," Ron said, sighing deeply. "It'd be torture."
"Hermione and Neville would definitely laugh at me. Even if they didn't, Seamus and Dean would. Merlin's beard, I can't handle this!"
"I thought you didn't care about stuff like that," Harry said, tossing a grape into his mouth and grinning.
"How could I not care?" Ron rolled his eyes. "I don't want people saying I only became a shaman by clinging to your coattails."
"Right, right. So keep at it," Harry said, stifling a laugh. "Seriously, if you keep up this drive, I wouldn't be surprised if you cracked the top ten in our year."
"Ha! No way!" Ron exclaimed. "Things'll be different once school starts, you know? There's no one slacking off at home right now."
"So it'll be different at school?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "Because Seamus and the others will be there to slack off with you?"
"Exactly!" Ron snapped his fingers, grinning smugly. "Then I won't feel so anxious. Ugh, how did the Weasley house turn into this?"
He let out a long sigh.
"Dad's obsessed with investigating Malfoy Manor, Mum and Percy are… well, you know. Ginny's been all secretive, and even Fred and George are holed up in their room all day, doing who-knows-what. Mum has to call them for dinner multiple times."
When young Ron finally noticed, he realized he was the only idle one in the house—which made him panic even more.
"Fred and George… I actually know what they're up to," Harry said after a moment. "I don't want to hurt your feelings, Ron, but they're studying Ancient Runes and Alchemy."
Ron froze, the grape between his fingers falling to the floor unnoticed. He stared at Harry, wide-eyed.
"You're serious?! Ancient Runes?! Alchemy?!"
He couldn't believe his ears. He must've misheard.
Ancient Runes encompassed a broad category of magical texts, books, spells, and languages left by ancient wizards. Runic script was just one branch. Spells based on Ancient Runes were more powerful or produced extraordinary effects, and studying ancient wizards required knowledge of these texts.
In short, it was incredibly complex and difficult. Most struggled to even grasp the basics, let alone master it. At Hogwarts, Ancient Runes was an elective only available to third-years and above.
Alchemy was even more daunting. Mastery of it guaranteed wealth through crafting magical items or potions. Naturally, it was another brutally challenging subject.
Ron knew how tough these subjects were. And now he was hearing that his prank-obsessed, play-all-day brothers were studying them?
Something was seriously wrong with the world.
"It's true. I knew you wouldn't believe me," Harry said, shrugging. "Keep it from Mrs. Weasley, though. They asked me for advice, but I don't know much about Ancient Runes or Alchemy, so I couldn't help much."
"Wait, why keep it from Mum?" Ron asked, puzzled.
Harry didn't answer—he didn't need to. Ron got it.
"Aha, for pranks, right?" Ron said, realization dawning. "No wonder… Ha! Only that would get their attention."
His furrowed brow relaxed.
"But either way, the knowledge they're gaining is real," Harry said with a smile. "You can't fault them for that."
"Yeah, yeah, even if it's for pranks, it's still studying," Ron said heavily. "Damn it, I shouldn't have asked you about this. Now I'm even more stressed!"
"Think of Luna," Harry said kindly. "You don't want her leaving you in the dust, do you?"
"Damn it, Harry, you rotten Ragehorn," Ron said, rubbing his cheeks vigorously. "By the way, the hearing's coming up, right? You ready, Harry?"
"Of course," Harry nodded. "Honestly, it's weird the Ministry hasn't sent anyone to settle privately by now."
"Who knows?" Ron said carelessly. "Anyone can see they're in the wrong. You've already won, Harry."
"Maybe," Harry said, shaking his head slightly.
He was curious to see what the Ministry would do.
August 24th fell on a Monday, the start of a new week for the Ministry of Magic. For once, the Weasley household was up early, gathered noisily around the breakfast table.
"Good to see you're still calm, Harry," Mr. Weasley said warmly, pulling Harry to sit beside him. "I'd say there's nothing to worry about. The case was decided a month ago in the Daily Prophet. Everyone knows it."
"I thought you'd defend your colleague, Mr. Weasley," Harry said, grinning. "That Mafalda Hopkirk?"
"Oh, I don't know her well," Mr. Weasley said, waving dismissively. "Everyone knows she messed up big time. You should see the Ministry, Harry. The Howlers haven't stopped all month. Ha! It's quite the spectacle!"
"You shouldn't be so gleeful, Arthur," Mrs. Weasley said, plopping a sausage onto his plate. "You still work there, you know. The Ministry's troubles don't help you. Not that I'm blaming you, Harry—those careless people deserve what's coming."
"Especially when her mistake was pinned on Harry. That's just wrong," Percy said, buttering his toast.
"What's that mean?" Harry asked, curious. "Pinned on me?"
"Oh, don't mind it," Mr. Weasley said, shrugging. "Somehow, she found out you're Ron's friend and staying with us, so she wanted you to drop the case. But that's not happening, is it?"
"So Arthur didn't tell you. Eat up, dear, you'll be at the Ministry all day. Their food's dreadful," Mrs. Weasley said, smiling kindly as she piled eggs and sausages onto Harry's plate.
"Thanks," Harry said quickly. "I mean, thank you all—I'm not dropping the case."
"I figured," Mr. Weasley said, nodding. "It's blown up so much that withdrawing now would draw criticism. Some see you as a leader for wizards who've suffered under the Ministry's sloppy ways for years."
"Leader?" Harry said, stunned.
It was the first he'd heard of it.
"They're counting on you to win this case and make the Ministry back down, to vent their frustrations," Mr. Weasley explained. "Last week—Wednesday, I think?—fourteen wizards protested in the Ministry's atrium."
"Good grief, Fudge hid in his office all day, pretending he wasn't there," Mr. Weasley said, laughing heartily. "Normally, he loves strutting through every office, making sure everyone sees him."
"So they're all people wronged by the Ministry?" Harry asked, suppressing a grin.
"Exactly," Mr. Weasley nodded. "So don't worry, Harry. You have more support than you think."
"…It's still hard to believe," Percy said, sighing. "The Ministry's made so many mistakes, and we never knew."
"Thanks to Rita Skeeter, eh?" Ron said cheerfully. "Last year, I wished she'd drop dead, but now? She's doing brilliantly!"
"Yeah, Ronniekins," George said in a mocking tone. "Who'd have thought? You, picking up the morning paper. You used to avoid anything with words."
"Shut it, Fred," Ron huffed. "Don't you want to read it?"
"First, I'm Fred," the real Fred cut in. "Second, we do. Where's Rita getting her info? Every day, a new story in the Daily Prophet about the Ministry screwing up and silencing wizards."
"Because people are flooding her with submissions," Mr. Weasley said. "A friend told me the only place busier with owls than the Ministry lately is the Daily Prophet. Rita's practically living in her office, buried in letters."
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