Chapter 177

Chapter 177

“Should we really be walking into someone else’s garden?” Hermione asked, following Suer through the gate of the fenced property opposite their two houses.

“It’s fine. This is my aunt’s house, and she left me a key. We can use the fireplace here to reach Diagon Alley.” Suer produced a brass key from his pocket and waved it. “Unless you would rather take a public bus?”

“The fireplace?” Hermione tilted her head, puzzled, but quickly understood. “Do you mean Floo powder?”

“I’ve read about it!”

“Exactly.” Suer inserted the key and turned it to the right. The mechanism sprang back with a click. “Come in. Don’t worry, it’s simple. I’ll show you first, then you can follow me.”

Hermione nodded obediently and watched in silence as Suer took a clear bottle of glittering powder from a brick at the upper-right corner of the fireplace and sprinkled a small handful into his palm.

“Like this.” Suer threw in the Floo powder, and green flames immediately sprang to life inside the empty grate.

“When you use Floo powder, you have to say your destination clearly. Don’t worry, the fire won’t hurt a witch or wizard. I’ll go first.”

Still explaining, he stepped into the flames and turned to give Hermione an encouraging smile. Then he called loudly, “The Leaky Cauldron!”

With a whoosh, the green fire whirled fiercely around Suer and carried him away.

Hermione took a deep breath. This was the first time she had used magical transport. Following Suer’s demonstration, she tipped a little powder into her palm and scattered it into the grate. Emerald flames rose once more.

Using Floo powder for the first time was strange and astonishing. Compared with the wonder of the magic itself, the slight dizziness hardly mattered.

Hermione kept her eyes wide open even as the spinning flames made her head swim. Through occasional gaps in the fire, she glimpsed the world outside.

Those Muggles would never imagine that their fireplaces were being used for magical travel without their knowledge.

It felt as though ages passed, yet it might have been only the blink of an eye.

Hermione felt someone push her from behind. She stumbled out of the fireplace, and a pair of hands caught her firmly.

“Are you all right? The first journey takes some getting used to,” Suer said gently.

Using his support, Hermione steadied herself and looked around. The familiar, shabby pub told her she had arrived.

“I’m fine. I may have stayed in the fireplace too long. Someone pushed me.”

Shouts rose behind them as one person after another emerged from the grate. “Make way, children. Don’t block the passage.”

Several men carried a cloth-covered crate past Suer and Hermione. Muffled whimpers came from inside, and neither of them could tell what it held.

“Come on. I can see Harry.” Suer tugged one of Hermione’s plaits, earning himself a glare.

“Hi, Harry.” Following the direction Suer indicated, Hermione spotted Harry sitting alone at a small round table in the corner, lost in thought. She hurried over and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Long time no see, Hermione.” Harry turned and smiled. “Is Hedwig all right? Thanks for looking after her these past few days, Suer.”

“Eating well and sleeping soundly. She’s fine.” Suer shrugged. “But did you really come here this early just to wait for us?”

“No. Actually, I’ve been staying here for several days.” Harry gave a wry smile. “Would you like some butterbeer? I think it’s rather good. I’m waiting here for Ron and the others too.”
Suer immediately caught the oddity in Harry’s words. “You’ve been living here for several days? Did your aunt and uncle throw you out?”

“No.” Harry shook his head. “But it was nearly that bad. They invited someone I can’t stand to stay at the house.”

“What happened?” Hermione asked curiously.

“It’s a long story. Uncle Vernon has a sister, and they make me call her Aunt Marge, but she is…” Harry broke off, apparently searching for the right description. “To borrow one of Snape’s favourite insults, her head is stuffed with weeds.”

Suer stared at Harry in surprise. As far as he knew, Harry rarely insulted anyone. What exactly had this “aunt” done?

Harry gave them a detailed account of what had happened. Put simply, Aunt Marge had said and done several cruel things. She had struck one of Harry’s most sensitive wounds, and Harry had exploded.

He had inflated her into an enormous balloon.

Harry then described his wild ride halfway across London on the Knight Bus and how he had finally taken a room at the Leaky Cauldron.

“Why didn’t you come to my house, Harry?” Suer asked.

“I wanted to.” Harry hurried to explain. “But it was already eleven at night, and I had broken the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery. I was afraid I would drag you into trouble.”

“If you ever have nowhere to go, our home is always open to you. My mum would be delighted to have you.” Suer sighed and patted Harry lightly on the shoulder.

“We’re friends. You shouldn’t even need to worry about asking.”

Harry was here talking to them instead of sitting in a cell, so clearly the incident had been resolved.

“What happened next?” Hermione asked. “Didn’t the Ministry of Magic–the people who enforce that law–come looking for you?”

“That’s what I was about to tell you. Guess who I met?”

“Headmaster Dumbledore?” Suer interjected.

“No.” Harry shook his head, his tone relaxed. “Minister Cornelius Fudge.”

“They seemed to be looking for me too.”

“Minister Fudge said I wasn’t in trouble. He dealt with everything afterwards, including changing Aunt Marge back and modifying her memory.”

“I had actually planned to find you the next day.” Harry looked apologetically at Suer. “But Minister Fudge said I should remain in Diagon Alley for the time being, stay away from London and return here before dark every evening.”

“It’s so strange. I thought I would be sent to Azkaban.”

“There is a process for sending someone to Azkaban,” Hermione said, pushing at a pair of imaginary spectacles on her nose. “You would have to be a truly terrible criminal.”

“Like Black?” Harry raised an eyebrow. “Stan told me he killed more than a dozen Muggles in a street with a single spell, but the government told everyone it was a violent gas explosion…”

“Hello there!” A cheerful voice called from nearby. “Harry, Hermione, Suer.”

A freckled boy with red hair waved at them. Four or five equally red-haired people followed behind him.

They stood out spectacularly in the crowded pub.

The Weasley family had arrived.