Chapter 318 — Heroes of the Order of the Phoenix
To many of the younger Ministry employees, Arthur Weasley and the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement were two completely different worlds.
The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was the largest and most crucial department in the entire Ministry. With the exception of the Department of Mysteries, nearly every other department ultimately answered to it.
And Arthur Weasley?
He was merely the head of the tiny, two-person Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office.
He had the right to participate in writing laws, yes…
But he was a marginal figure — a footnote in the Ministry's political structure.
Yet anyone older, anyone who remembered the First Wizarding War, would say the same thing:
If Arthur Weasley had ever wanted it, he absolutely could have become the Head of the Department.
He was a war hero.
A pure-blood from a respected lineage.
His mother had belonged to the noble Black family, and his wife — the last direct descendant of the ancient Prewett line — had lost two heroic brothers in the war against Voldemort.
But Arthur Weasley had made one "mistake":
He had been a member of the Order of the Phoenix.
And the Order had been far too effective at fighting Death Eaters.
For reasons of pride and public image, the Ministry had never fully acknowledged their contributions. In fact, many of its members had been quietly pushed aside.
Even so, Arthur's achievements were so significant that he was allowed to draft laws and had an entire office created just for him.
Now he was the Director of the entire Department of Magical Law Enforcement — and those who understood politics knew this could only be Dumbledore's doing.
Perhaps it was even the reason Fudge ultimately lost his position.
After all, in the eyes of most people:
No true leader abandons their own subordinates.
Not after they shed blood and risked their lives.
Yet… Dumbledore had done exactly that.
He rejected power.
He refused to use his influence.
And because he refused power for himself, he also refused to fight for the rewards his subordinates deserved.
And so, the heroes were forgotten while the parasites took the credit.
Alastor Moody — labeled a madman — was forced into retirement.
Remus Lupin lived in poverty, barely able to afford meals.
Dedalus Diggle, penniless, practically lived at the Leaky Cauldron.
Alice and Frank Longbottom lay broken in St Mungo's, with no compensation and no justice.
And those who died without heirs? Their properties were seized by the Ministry without hesitation.
Heroes needed to eat.
But Dumbledore had forgotten that.
After the First Wizarding War, the Order of the Phoenix disbanded, and its contributions were devoured by bureaucratic insects.
At the staff table now, Riddle leaned forward and whispered these truths —
softly, almost gently, like the serpent in Eden offering forbidden fruit.
He never spoke a single lie.
But truths, when sharp, can wound deeper than deception.
Even Dumbledore faltered.
Seeing Percy's transformation, hearing Riddle's cold recitation of history…
Faces of old comrades surfaced in his memory, tinged with regret.
For the first time, he wondered if he had truly done the right thing.
Perhaps he should have taken power.
Or at least ensured justice for those who served him so loyally.
He had the influence.
He simply chose not to use it.
"Perhaps… I truly have been wrong," Dumbledore murmured.
Beside him, Riddle smiled with quiet satisfaction.
Yes — this was the Dumbledore he feared.
A Dumbledore forced to confront his own ideals.
If the Order had never disbanded, it would have become the most powerful political force in the Ministry.
How could Voldemort have risen again in such a world?
From his seat, Alexander Smith listened silently.
Suddenly, he understood why, in the original timeline, Fudge had been able to bring Dumbledore down so easily.
Dumbledore was noble.
Painfully, overwhelmingly noble.
And those who followed him?
They were expected to be noble as well.
Even fighting for your rightful salary and recognition seemed "ignoble" under Dumbledore's standard.
Who would dare defend someone like that?
Only fanatics… or saints.
But the world was not run by saints.
It was run by normal people.
And normal people did not speak up.
At the Gryffindor table, the entire Weasley family wept openly.
A poor family's children grew up early, each carrying their own burdens:
Bill and Charlie — who grew up during better years — pursued their dreams, just like their father.
Percy — who grew up during the hardest times — threw himself into academics and ambition, fighting to climb the Ministry ladder.
The twins only wanted to make money quickly and chase their dreams.
Ron developed a deep inferiority complex.
Ginny, the most protected of them all, grew into a surprisingly normal child.
But now… they were all crying together.
Fred was nearly suffocated in Percy's arms.
George was crushed by Ron — who was now taller than him.
Ginny, the most reserved of them all, tightly hugged Harry as if sharing her happiness with him.
At the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy clapped enthusiastically — loud enough to seem like he was part of the Weasley family himself.
Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy joined in out of loyalty to Draco.
The Great Hall filled with applause, laughter, and joyful chatter.
Not a single professor interrupted.
Even Professor McGonagall — usually the strictest — had tears shimmering in her eyes.
People often forgot she, too, had been a member of the Order of the Phoenix.
Eventually, after nearly ten minutes, the applause died down.
Percy and the others returned to their seats.
"How did Percy know about Dad's promotion?" Ron croaked, wiping his eyes.
"You kept yelling that you couldn't finish your homework without Dad replying," Ginny sighed.
"And obviously the owl noticed when the letter flew to Percy."
"I keep telling you — its name is Zhu Weiqiong!" Ron insisted desperately.
"It only responds to that name!"
Ginny huffed softly.
She still regretted that she hadn't named the little owl when it first came — simply because she was scared of touching Sirius Black's bird.
Ron shook his head wildly.
"No! Dad isn't like that!
Even if he got promoted, he wouldn't forget to reply to me!"
He suddenly brightened.
"Right! If he wrote to Percy, then the rest must be in that letter!
Percy probably stopped reading halfway!"
Ron jumped to his feet, ready to sprint across the hall —
But before he could take a single step…
Dumbledore rose from his seat.
(End of Chapter 318)
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