Chapter 159
Chapter 159
The tremendous explosion Suer had caused kept the castle in an uproar for several days. At least it helped dispel some of the panic that had gripped the students after Dumbledore’s departure.
Suer spent every day worrying that Fawkes might suddenly bring Dumbledore into the Room of Requirement to settle accounts with him.
He was deeply troubled by the thought of being saddled with an enormous debt at such a young age.
It did not take much imagination to guess how many precious things had been destroyed in that patch of the Forbidden Forest. At the very least, the few chests of Galleons in his vault would never be enough to cover the damages.
After a Herbology lesson, Hermione brought Suer fresh news: according to Professor Sprout’s estimate, the burned woodland would need at least a hundred and fifty years to recover.
Suer became even more worried.
Fortunately, there was some good news. No, perhaps it could not really be called good news.
“The Mandrakes are nearly mature. Professor McGonagall says all the petrified students will be able to return to class in a few days,” Hermione said happily.
“That also means you won’t have to hide here every day and wait until night before you can go out for a walk.”
“I don’t think that’s good news…” Suer sighed. It meant he would soon have to give up this life of sleeping until he woke naturally and doing whatever he pleased.
“Hmm?” Hermione tilted her head. “Isn’t it good news?”
“Never mind. It was bound to happen sooner or later. How have Harry and the others been lately?” Suer asked, watching Hermione review her class notes according to her revision schedule.
“They’ve been all right.” Hermione flexed her wrist without looking up. “They’ve confirmed that the monster is a basilisk. I showed them that library book, and ever since then they’ve been trying to work out which pipe it uses to get into the castle.”
“Then why… aren’t you… helping them look?” Suer stared at her in astonishment.
“I think the final examinations that begin on the first of June are more important than the basilisk,” Hermione said.
Of course. That was Hermione for you…
Hermione’s lack of interest in the basilisk surprised Suer. After all, she had spent quite some time helping Harry and the others search for the monster in the castle.
Yet her reaction made perfect sense now that they had found the answer.
More often than not, Hermione pursued something simply because she wanted an answer…
The weather gradually grew warmer as the last chill of winter gave way to the spring breeze.
One morning, Hermione hurried into the Room of Requirement, only to rush away again in a fluster.
She left behind a single sentence…
“The basilisk has appeared. Professor McGonagall has ordered all the students back to their common rooms. I might not be able to come here tonight. The castle is already in chaos.”
Just as Hermione had said, when Suer left the Room of Requirement at noon, the castle was frighteningly silent. It was even more unsettling than during the previous lockdown.
Back then, at least professors and ghosts had patrolled the castle. From time to time, one could even encounter pets that young wizards had let out of their common rooms for a breath of fresh air.
It had begun… After wandering around the castle once, Suer returned to the Room of Requirement.
He was curious to know how Dumbledore intended to bring the dead “basilisk” back to life, but it did not matter. By tomorrow, he would know how everything turned out.
He leafed through his History of Magic textbook. Hermione had underlined all the material that might appear in the final examination, but as far as Suer could see, there was little point in drawing those lines…
She had marked practically everything. Only a few scattered, passing references to history had escaped.
How the bloody hell was this any different from memorising the entire book?
The History of Magic textbook was only slightly less soporific than Professor Binns. Suer had been reading for less than an hour when his eyelids began to droop.
The bed behind him seemed irresistibly inviting.
In the end, Suer succumbed to the bed.
“Zzzz…” Silence returned to the Room of Requirement.
What finally woke Suer was the rumbling of his stomach. The bed clung to him and refused to let him rise.
But his empty stomach lodged a protest, drew its sword, and launched an assault against its seal.
The Room of Requirement resolved the conflict. It transported food from the kitchens and thoughtfully set up a small table over the bed.
Mmm… You could always trust the Hogwarts kitchens. Even a culinary abomination like stargazy pie could be made delicious by food magic.
Suer had barely raised a spoonful of pudding to his mouth when he felt two claws seize the back of his collar and lift him into the air.
The sensation was thoroughly familiar.
Fire flared and vanished. Suer was used to it by now. Still dressed in his pyjamas, he calmly took a bite of pudding.
“Good evening, Professor Dumbledore. The pudding is excellent today. Would you like some?”
“No, thank you, Mr Bones.” Dumbledore smiled and shook his head. “You seem to have been enjoying yourself these past few days.”
“It hasn’t been bad.” Suer finished the pudding in two or three mouthfuls before turning to see where Big Sister Fawkes had brought him.
It was an exceptionally long and exceptionally familiar passage.
Oh. Wasn’t this where the basilisk had met its tragic end?
“You caused quite a commotion in the Forbidden Forest.” Dumbledore spoke gently as he raised a hand and patted Suer’s shoulder. “Minerva wrote to me. The leader of the centaurs also asked me to convey his regards.”
A chill spread from his shoulder through his entire body. Suer shuddered and gave a few dry laughs.
“Don’t worry. I have no intention of asking you to pay for the damage.” Dumbledore seemed to see through Suer’s thoughts. “I believe you have already guessed why I brought you here.”
“Harry?” Suer ventured.
Dumbledore merely glanced at him and gave an answer that did not appear to address the question.
“Quite often, the future we see is merely the outcome towards which many separate points propel us. Everything we do because of it serves only to guide events towards the future we desire and, as far as possible, towards the result we hope to achieve.”
“Just as you have seen, Mr Bones.”
The old riddler was at it again. The answer made no apparent sense, but it put Suer on his guard.
“…What do you mean, Professor?” Suer looked baffled, though inwardly he understood perfectly well —
“The old bee really did see my memories…”
“Nothing in particular, Mr Bones.” Dumbledore gazed towards the end of the passage. His tone remained gentle, but his answer addressed the question Suer truly wanted answered. “I did indeed see part of your memories.”
“That is also why I want you to learn Occlumency as soon as possible.”
“A sufficiently skilled wizard has countless ways to enter your mind without you ever realising it.”
“Legilimency does, however, have an unavoidable limitation. It allows a wizard to see the memories of a conscious subject, but only those connected to what the subject is thinking at that moment.”
“Even I would have to render a wizard completely incapable of resistance before I could search through all of his memories. There is another condition as well: that wizard must never have studied Occlumency.”
Suer understood. He was also grateful that Dumbledore possessed an accurate understanding of his own power and sufficient restraint…
“I will learn it as quickly as I can,” Suer replied respectfully.
“Severus has reported your progress to me.” Dumbledore nodded. “It has exceeded my expectations. I look forward to seeing what your future holds as well.”
“All right. They are here.”