Chapter 11
Chapter 11
The conversation between father and son that night might never have happened. Everything returned to normal.
Only Suer now took out the key Dumbledore had given him from time to time and stared at it in thought. He needed to reconsider what that key represented.
Their custom school robes from Madam Malkin’s arrived two weeks before term began.
Suer mysteriously hid one of the boxes in his room, but a week before school, the endlessly inquisitive Angel found it anyway.
She planted kiss after kiss on Suer’s face, then raced around in her new cloak, its unicorn embroidered in silver thread. She asked Mr. and Mrs. Granger, Mr. and Mrs. Ellison, and every neighbour she encountered the same question.
“Do I look pretty, Bwother?”
Early one morning, she charged onto Suer’s bed wearing the cloak yet again.
“Very pretty. Angel is the prettiest little witch of all,” Suer praised her repeatedly.
“Really? Hee-hee-hee! Bwother is the handsomest wizard too.”
After playing with Angel for a while, Suer got out of bed. He fed their owl, whom Angel had named Little Gray, refilled its water, and went downstairs.
Hermione knocked on the door at precisely nine in the morning.
As the start of term drew closer, she had become a little nervous–even urgent, perhaps?
Suer was not sure that was the right word.
Hermione had created a timetable for the days remaining before school. It accounted for every second.
After the Ministry of Magic’s visit, she had carefully returned her wand to its box, wrapped it in silk, and turned to the next stage of her campaign: memorizing their textbooks.
She was determined to dominate every subject at Hogwarts!
Hermione even memorized Newt Scamander’s *Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them*.
Suer was dragged into her study frenzy as well. It was less that he had joined the competition and more that he had been forcibly recruited as a soulless fact-checking machine. In the process, he ended up memorizing a fair amount himself.
For example, he could recite the brewing procedure for a potent Draught of Living Death from their introductory Potions text.
He had also absorbed the recorded history of the magical world from *A History of Magic*.
If Suer had to describe his recent state in one phrase, it would be this: his head had been stuffed full of knowledge that did not belong there.
Of course, remembering information was one thing. Putting it into practice was another.
At last, the day before school arrived.
Angel was unhappy from the moment she woke. She wore her beloved unicorn cloak and refused to answer anyone who spoke to her.
The little girl had seen Suer packing the day before. She had been gloomy ever since that evening.
At nine that morning, Mr. Granger started the car while Mr. Ellison loaded Suer’s luggage into it.
Angel could hold back no longer. Her mouth crumpled, and she burst into tears.
She struggled out of Mrs. Ellison’s arms and ran straight toward Suer.
Seeing her little face drenched in tears made it hard for him to leave too.
“Bwother is only going to school. It isn’t as though I’ll never come back.”
Suer soon felt his shirtfront grow damp. He gently patted Angel’s small back and comforted her.
“When I come home, I’ll know enough magic to make you a unicorn,” he promised.
Hermione turned away and secretly wiped her eyes. She was reluctant to part with this little sprite of a sister as well.
Mrs. Ellison dabbed at the corners of her eyes, then joined Suer in softly consoling Angel.
But the hour had come, and those who needed to leave still had to go.
Parting only made the reunion sweeter.
Suer spent the journey staring silently out of the car window.
The car entered the city, carrying them farther and farther from home. King’s Cross Station soon appeared ahead. Mr. Granger escorted them all the way inside.
“Platforms nine and ten.”
Hermione studied her train ticket while searching for the Hogwarts platform. She walked back and forth several times but found no sign for Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.
Suer had been downcast, but the confusion on her small face lifted his mood a little.
He caught her arm before she could ask a station guard.
“Do you know where Platform Nine and Three-Quarters is, Suer?” Hermione asked.
“I think someone will show us how to get in.”
Suer raised his eyebrows toward the direction from which they had come.
Hermione followed his gaze.
…
She could not believe anyone would wear a long-sleeved padded coat in summer with knee-length shorts and leather shoes.
A child accompanied the absurdly dressed man.
“I’ll wager anything he’s a wizard,” Suer whispered with a shrug, leaning close to Hermione’s ear.
Hermione shivered. A blush touched her cheeks as she glared at him, then turned an expectant gaze toward the approaching pair.
Without acknowledging Suer or Hermione, the man and child pushed their trolley straight toward the pillar between Platforms Nine and Ten.
Strange clothing naturally attracted attention in any public place. A nearby station guard watched, dumbstruck, as an adult and child vanished into the wall.
He rubbed his eyes, then reached toward the bricks with a trembling hand.
“My God…” he muttered. “Did that bastard Robert sell me fake liquor?”
“Sir.”
A fashionably dressed young woman approached him. Suer and Hermione clearly saw her draw a slender stick and wave it before the face of the red-cheeked guard with the enormous beer belly.
His eyes went blank. He returned obediently to his post.
The young woman sighed in relief and patted her chest. When she looked up, she spotted Suer and Hermione standing nearby with their luggage, having witnessed everything.
“Oh, it’s you two.”
She came over and greeted them as casually as if they were old friends.
“Excuse me, but who are you?” Suer asked.
He was certain he had never met this woman. Hermione looked equally bewildered.
“Oh, I forgot.”
The woman winked at them. Her features blurred for an instant.
“Recognise me now?”
“You’re Tonks–the witch who came to Suer’s house,” Hermione answered first.
“Bingo.”
Tonks grinned and popped a sweet into her mouth.
“Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum. Not bad. Want one?”
Suer shook his head, then asked, “Weren’t you an Auror?”
“Mm. A little something went wrong on a mission, and my superiors sent me here to reflect on my mistakes for a while.” She shrugged without concern. “It’s not so bad here.”
“What spell did you use just now?” Hermione had little interest in why Tonks was stationed there. The magic that changed her appearance was far more intriguing.
“It’s an ability I was born with.”
Tonks touched her hair, which gradually changed to vivid red.
“An Animagus?” Suer asked.
“I’m surprised you know about Animagi.” Tonks gave him a startled look. “That’s right. I’m a natural-born shape-changing Animagus, though advanced Transfiguration can accomplish something similar.”
“Professor McGonagall is a brilliant Transfiguration master–if you can earn places in her advanced class, you’ll see for yourselves.”
“Advanced class?” Hermione asked.
“Every professor has one,” Tonks explained. “They only accept especially gifted young witches and wizards. I was one of Professor McGonagall’s advanced students.”
She lifted her chin proudly, then checked the time.
“You’re taking the Hogwarts Express, aren’t you? Go straight through this pillar.”
With that, Tonks waved a breezy goodbye.
Hermione watched the fashionable witch walk away, stars shining in her eyes.
“She is so cool.”