Chapter 175
Chapter 175
“Please look after Hedwig for me for a while. Could you keep these things safe as well? Things are… not very convenient for me at the moment.
“See you in Diagon Alley.
“Harry.”
Suer stared blankly at the Nimbus 2000 and Hedwig’s cage at his feet.
Having moved her entire home with her, Hedwig dropped the cage in front of Suer and immediately scampered off on the long legs hidden beneath her feathers to find Little Gray.
“Hoo.” She twisted her head around one hundred and seventy degrees and watched Suer fill her food bowl with wide amber eyes. Then she flapped her wings and hooted happily in thanks.
“You’re welcome.” Suer smiled and tapped her gently on the head. Little Gray was only an ordinary grey owl. He had no idea how the owl had managed to charm Hedwig.
Among owls, Hedwig was practically a snowy white heiress. She was a snowy owl, after all.
It was a charming tale: the white heiress and the grey gentleman.
Suer was rather curious what their chicks would look like if the two owls truly paired off.
Hagrid’s reply arrived the following morning. His letter explained how to subdue The Monster Book of Monsters, then asked Suer what kind of creature he thought would be suitable for the first lesson.
If Suer remembered the original course of events correctly, the first third-year lesson had featured hippogriffs. One of them had injured Malfoy and caused an enormous uproar. What had it been called — Buckbeak, or Beakbuck?
Malfoy had only been hurt because he was too arrogant to approach the creature as the professor instructed.
Suer hesitated for a long while before spreading out a sheet of writing paper.
“I received your letter. Harry stayed at my house for the past two days, and the book you sent frightened us half to death. I am certain the class will remember this subject for a long time, since this may be the first textbook we have ever received that can move and bite.
“I am looking forward to our first Care of Magical Creatures lesson and would very much like to meet some charming, harmless magical creatures in person.
“For the first class, I suggest teaching us about creatures that are fairly easy to manage. Bowtruckles, for example — I have been curious about them for ages. Salamanders would be interesting too, since creatures that depend on fire to survive are quite remarkable… But as the professor, the final choice must be yours.”
When Suer had finished, he read his words carefully. After another moment of hesitation, he added a final paragraph.
“I understand that you must be nervous about teaching for the first time. Rather than making the first lesson unforgettable, might it be better to keep everything steady and leave no opportunity for mistakes? What do you think? I look forward to your first class.
“Suer Bones Ellison.”
That would do. Suer placed the letter in an envelope, satisfied. Surely there could not be any problem with it.
As he watched Little Gray and Hedwig vanish into the night together, an inexplicable trace of regret rose within him. It felt as though he had overlooked something important.
To Hagrid, after all, there was no such thing as a dangerous magical creature. There were only larger adorable creatures and smaller adorable creatures…
Surely it would be fine. To be safe, Suer would visit Hagrid more often once term began. What had happened in the original course of events had always seemed deeply unfair. Malfoy had been at fault, yet a magical creature had taken the blame.
Wait — why had Hedwig flown off to deliver the letter with Little Gray?
Suer yawned. It was late, so he decided to go to bed.
Time slipped quietly past. One morning, Suer woke to discover that the house next door looked somehow different.
What exactly had changed? There were several pots of fleshy little plants in the garden, and he could hear movement inside the house.
He realised that Hermione must be back.
“Good morning, young Suer.” Mrs Granger happened to emerge carrying a watering can. When she saw Suer outside, she waved over the fence.
After spending a month in sunnier parts of the world, Mrs Granger had acquired a slightly healthier tan.
“Morning, Mrs Granger. You’re back?” Suer replied, stealing a discreet glance at the upstairs window of Hermione’s room.
“Yes. We arrived very late last night.” Mrs Granger noticed his glance and smiled knowingly. “Hermione should still be asleep. If you would like to help me wake her for breakfast…”
“Ah… er…” Suer flushed. “I think I’ll wait until she wakes on her own. She has only just returned from travelling and probably needs time to adjust.”
“How thoughtful of you.” Mrs Granger smiled.
“Ha… of course, Mrs Granger. I’m going to have breakfast.” Suer fled. Hermione was certainly sleeping soundly at this hour. Girls of her age needed plenty of rest, and he could easily imagine what would happen if he charged upstairs and woke her.
Cats had claws when their fur was ruffled.
Besides, Mr Granger was probably at home. Suer could hardly stride into the house and enter the man’s precious daughter’s bedroom under his watchful eye.
Since he could not use magic at home, Suer had bought an automatic quill during his visit to Diagon Alley with Harry.
Unfortunately, the quill was not advanced enough to complete homework by itself. Suer still had to keep an eye on it, or it would even copy the original writer’s name. Drawing on another answer was one thing; copying it word for word was quite another. At the very least, the sentence structure ought to be changed.
Its voice-control function worked rather well, though.
The quill used by that reporter at the Daily Prophet seemed far more sophisticated. If the opportunity arose, perhaps Suer could find a way to take it from her.
It could turn a single sentence into endless implications. That was an excellent quill.
What was the reporter called again — Rita Skeeter?
Morn subscribed to the Daily Prophet specifically to read that reporter’s articles. Her stories were extraordinarily convoluted.
He particularly adored Rita’s accounts of officials concealing affairs from their wives, only for their mistresses to begin affairs of their own.
As it happened, Suer knew something the public did not: Rita Skeeter was an unregistered Animagus.
That knowledge might prove useful. For now, he would remember it.