Chapter 113
Chapter 113
Suer scooped up the little girl and ran downstairs without even changing out of his pyjamas.
Mr Ellison sat comfortably on the sofa with the morning paper, while light shone from the kitchen.
“You’re awake?” Hearing the noise, Mrs Ellison emerged from the kitchen carrying a plate of sandwiches and milk. She smiled gently. “Come and have breakfast.”
“You did a good job with the Christmas tree.” Mr Ellison removed his spectacles, a smile tugging at his lips.
“Why did you come back early?” Suer drained a glass of milk and asked curiously. “Weren’t you supposed to return on Christmas Day?”
“Mr Granger told me you were home, so we came back,” Mr Ellison explained with a smile.
“Won’t it interfere with business?”
“No. We finished everything early.” Mr Ellison folded the newspaper and placed it neatly in the rack. “I’m going to the office. I’ll be back at noon.”
The following days passed as usual, except that Suer had to bid farewell to sleeping late.
Anyone who had raised a child would understand. Children woke very early every day and possessed astonishing energy.
And because the little girl had not seen her brother for three months, she clung to him almost all day.
Hermione had still not replied by Christmas Day. Suer did not know whether their plan had gone smoothly.
Had events followed the original plot, leaving her as a catgirl with two pairs of ears?
A catgirl…
Incidentally, Suer sent Dumbledore a Christmas present this year: hand-knitted woollen socks in every colour. Naturally, he had not knitted them himself. Professor McGonagall received a beautiful hat.
In the end, Hagrid posted the bicorn horn to Suer after all. Suer could only marvel that Hagrid was so wealthy he scarcely treated Galleons as money.
The enclosed letter mentioned how much he liked the wine Suer had given him and invited Suer to taste it with him the next time he visited the hut. The giant seemed to have forgotten that Suer was only twelve and nowhere near old enough to drink.
There were also two additional guests at the Christmas dinner this year: Mr Granger and his wife. The two women began bustling about the kitchen early in the morning.
Mr Ellison and Mr Granger went down to the wine cellar together to choose the drinks. They shared the same hobby. Neither drank to excess, but both enjoyed tasting wine.
“Suer, where are those bottles of Remy Martin I left on the rack?” Mr Ellison stared blankly at the newly empty spaces.
Oh! He had noticed.
Mr Ellison would not blame Suer, of course. He merely felt the loss. The bottles had not been terribly expensive, but their vintage and ingredients gave them a better flavour than other years, making them rather difficult to replace.
A few days after Christmas, Suer began the journey back to the castle, carrying a great many things prepared by Mrs Ellison and Mrs Granger.
Before leaving the castle, he had deliberately consulted Professor Sinistra and learnt that a thunderstorm would occur after Christmas, though she could not say precisely when.
Reluctant though he was, Suer left home early.
Angel was beginning to grow accustomed to these departures. This time, she did not cry. Instead, she sensibly gave Suer a hug.
“Be good at school,” she said.
Amused, Suer tapped the little girl’s smooth forehead. Then he climbed into the car and departed.
Another full day of travelling. The Hogwarts Express truly failed to live up to its name.
When Suer returned, Hagrid met him at Hogsmeade. In the end, the giant had failed to endure the loneliness of waiting. His crimson face made it clear that he had drunk a great deal.
“Hic…” Hagrid hiccupped, laughed and embraced Suer. The thick reek of alcohol sent Suer reeling backwards.
“Fancy a look round Hogsmeade? It’s the only all-wizard village in Britain.”
“Of course.” Suer nodded. He had never visited. He had only heard students in third year and above talk about how interesting and entertaining it was, and how captivating Madam Rosmerta at the Three Broomsticks was.
Hagrid therefore led Suer away from the station by a small path on the other side and into a little village of cottages and shops with thatched roofs.
The lingering traces of Christmas had not yet faded. Enchanted decorations covered the roadside trees, along with candles that burnt brightly for illumination.
The shops were brilliantly lit, and faint voices drifted from inside.
When they passed Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop, Suer went in and chose two quills. One was pure white streaked with black, while the other was pure black streaked with white. He planned to give the white one to Hermione once he reached the castle.
Naturally, Honeydukes could not be missed. Hagrid bought him a large bag of Honeydukes’ classic Sticky Toffee.
“Very interesting and delicious,” Hagrid said. “I’ve tried making it myself, but mine never tastes as good as theirs.”
“The Shrieking Shack.” Hagrid introduced each place as they walked. “It’s a famous attraction. Years ago, people heard strange screams coming from inside and thought it was haunted. Ridiculous, really.”
“I reckon there’s a mischievous ghost inside, or a ghoul that likes ter shout. The Weasleys have a ghoul that likes banging pipes with a spoon…”
“Once you’re in third year at Hogwarts, you can visit Hogsmeade on Saturdays. If you’re interested, bring your friends and explore.”
Suer silently studied the Shrieking Shack, standing clearly apart from the other buildings, and nodded.
“I will, Hagrid.”
If he remembered correctly, a secret passage beneath the Whomping Willow led here.
“The Three Broomsticks.” Hagrid suddenly stopped. “Want ter try one of their drinks? They’re very good. The mead’s excellent–oh, I forgot, you’re too young for alcohol. But you can try one of their non-alcoholic drinks.”
“My treat.”
“All right.” Suer readily accepted.
Hagrid pushed open the door. A rush of noise and warm air carrying the faint scent of alcohol met them.
“Good evening, Madam Rosmerta.” His booming voice instantly overwhelmed the din inside.
“Hagrid?” a voice called. Suer looked over and saw Professor Flitwick sitting on a tall stool, waving to them.
Professor McGonagall sat opposite him. She appeared to be in a good mood. Two patches of colour warmed her cheeks, and she smiled slightly as she nodded to them.
Besides the professors, there was a plump old man and several people Suer had never seen at school.
“Good evening, Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall.” Hagrid led Suer towards their table, and Suer greeted them respectfully.
“Mr Bones?” Professor McGonagall said. “If I remember correctly, we are still on holiday.”
“Yes, Professor McGonagall. There are no magic books at home, and I can’t practise magic there, so I came back early,” Suer replied.
Professor McGonagall nodded. “The power of magic is certainly captivating, but I advise you not to become excessively obsessed with it.”
“Don’t be so stern. We’re here to relax today. Put that imposing manner away, Minerva,” Professor Flitwick said with a laugh. “A love of learning is a good thing.”
“Would you like an Umbrella-Snail Cherry Syrup Soda?” Professor Flitwick winked at Suer.