Harry Potter and the Overload of Gen Z

The Trial and Quidditch

While Harry had been trying his best to live his life, the troll incident had been his reminder of the dangers that came with being Harry Potter. He had been too careless-Hermione had nearly gotten hurt because he had forgotten about the troll. And so, over the past few weeks, he had been busy writing down everything he knew about the series in a diary Remus had made and gifted to him. It was a rather nifty thing, charmed to only be able to be opened and read by one who knew the password.

Harry had somehow ended up setting up the password as Skibidi Toilet. In parseltongue of course as an extra measure of security-it wouldn't do any good if another got their hands on the knowledge and he doubted Voldemort as the only other parselmouth even knew what a skibidi toilet was. And of course, along with the password were a bunch of other protective measures that Remus had had a fun time enchanting. A bit too much fun perhaps.

While Harry had told Remus quite a lot, it had barely scraped the surface of the sheer craziness of his life in the books. Remus only knew about the book's existence and the parts about the other marauders. Remus didn't know that the dark lord was still alive, possessing Quirrell, or that he'd eventually rise again.

That conversation could wait till later.

Harry paused as he thought about the problem called Quirrell. In the books, Quirrell had made many attempts to assassinate him throughout the year. The main incidents being when he was playing Quidditch and his broom started acting up and down in the chamber with the mirror.

Harry shuddered. Even if he wasn't on the Quidditch team due to not having any damsel in distress remembralls to save, Quirrell would probably find another way to attack him. And that was a scary thought-Quirrell had no qualms about killing a child if it was something ordered by Voldemort.

Was there a way to expose Quirrell? Would it do him any good to go to a teacher? Dumbledore must have had some sort of suspicion, Snape as well. Harry furrowed his eyebrows-he definitely did not have the brain power for this.

He did not even want to start thinking about the Horcruxes. He valued his brain cells very much.

Wait, why was this even his problem? Ah yes, the prophecy. Fate. Blah blah blah.

Instead, Harry tried to focus on the good news-Sirius' trial was soon and he'd hopefully leave as a free man. When the Daily Prophet article came out, there had been mass outrage-Peter Pettigrew had been confirmed alive and Sirius Black had never had a trial. Remus had said that it was a miracle that the trial had taken place so soon due to the adamant nature of the ministry to deny the truth and attempt to save face, pushing back the trial in hopes of it being eventually forgotten.

Harry supposed it was ever so miraculous that Fudge had received an anonymous message (AKA threat) a few weeks ago. Not that Harry knew anything about that. What letter?

And what was that about Fudge only being able to sing Baby Shark every time he tried to talk and having to take leave for an entire week due to a mysterious illness?

Harry almost snickered at the thought as after breakfast he was led by Professor McGonagall out of Hogwarts and apparated to the Ministry of Magic. He was thankful for McGonagall's steady hand on his shoulder as she guided him around the Ministry, shielding him from all the cameras and questions being thrown at him.

"Rita Skeeter here on behalf of the Daily Prophet! I was wondering, Harry, if you could tell us your thoughts on-"

McGonagall was quick to react. "I ask for you to respect the boy's privacy as this is a private matter and he is not a zoo animal for you to pester. Mr Potter will not be answering any questions today so I bid you adieu."