Chapter 209
Chapter 209
The entire afternoon quietly slipped away.
Suer not only identified the monster, but also learnt from another book which food Bowtruckles loved most. If he meant to offer thanks, he ought to choose a gift the recipient would appreciate.
Incidentally, that second book had been written by Mr Scamander.
If Newt Scamander called himself the world’s second greatest expert on Bowtruckles, no wizard would dare claim first place.
Doxy eggs were a Bowtruckle’s favourite food… Hagrid should be able to obtain some, shouldn’t he?
That settled it. At the next Care of Magical Creatures lesson, Suer would ask Hagrid to buy a supply.
While he considered the matter, Hermione packed away her books and thick stack of parchment, then added several library books to her satchel.
Suer eyed the bag suspiciously. How much could an ordinary satchel hold? That thick pile of homework alone ought to have filled it. How could Hermione possibly fit so many books inside, especially when the bag certainly contained others already?
Hermione noticed his gaze, guiltily covered the satchel with one hand and shifted her body to hide it.
Right. What had been suspicion was now a confirmed diagnosis. Hermione had definitely enchanted her satchel in secret.
An Undetectable Extension Charm would hardly trouble Gryffindor’s resident young genius.
Suer did not expose her. He returned the books to their shelves, then left the library beside Hermione and headed for the Great Hall. Dinner ought to be ready.
The Hall buzzed with conversation. After a day spent gathering momentum, the approaching Hogsmeade weekend had become even more exciting, and young wizards discussed it everywhere.
The fifth- and seventh-years were no exception. Both groups faced their respective wizarding examinations that year, and the professors had reportedly buried them in homework. They looked desperate for a day outside.
As Suer passed the Ravenclaw table, he heard the male prefect loudly “conspiring” with friends to visit Madam Rosmerta at the Three Broomsticks. The charms of a mature woman apparently appealed to boys from third year through seventh.
Really… Ravenclaw had the highest proportion of witches in Hogwarts, yet they ignored the treasure in their own House and looked elsewhere…
Was the unattainable always more alluring? Or did distance lend beauty? Suer did not think Madam Rosmerta was exceptionally beautiful, though she certainly possessed mature charm.
Still grumbling inwardly, Suer glanced at Hermione and nodded with conviction. His Hermione was prettier. She was still a girl now, but she would grow up eventually…
Character-development games were the most entertaining.
Hermione found his gaze baffling. She tilted her head, an invisible question mark almost appearing above it, and touched her cheek. Was there something on her face?
The adorable gesture made Suer cry out inwardly:
Too cute. I’m dead!
Every table rang with eager talk about Hogsmeade–except around Harry at the Gryffindor table. Anyone could see how dejected he was. His entire body seemed to have faded to a miserable grey.
“You’ll definitely be able to go next time. I’ll bring you something tasty from Hogsmeade,” Ron consoled him.
“McGonagall won’t bend at all. She knows your special circumstances perfectly well, but all she talks about are the school rules.”
As Suer and Hermione sat down, Harry spoke in a thoroughly dispirited voice.
“Leave it, Ron. I understand why Professor McGonagall won’t let me go.”
Hermione tapped Suer. He knew at once what she wanted to say and thoughtfully spoke for her.
“It’s too dangerous outside. Professor McGonagall is doing it for your own good.”
“I know, but I still want to go to Hogsmeade with all of you.” Harry lowered his head.
“Black is trying every possible way to find me, so…”
“Black isn’t stupid,” Ron said. “Hogsmeade will be full of wizards. He couldn’t possibly try anything there. Why don’t you ask Professor Dumbledore?”
“Perhaps I could try.” Harry’s eyes brightened, and a spark of hope rose within him.
“How is Scabbers, Ron?” As soon as the Hogsmeade discussion ended, Suer asked, “Has the rat woken up?”
“This afternoon,” Ron said happily. “You were a tremendous help. I shut Scabbers in Harry’s birdcage with plenty of food. The first thing Scabbers did after waking was eat like mad. I haven’t seen the rat enjoy a meal that much in ages.”
“Good.” Suer nodded.
“When we go to Hogsmeade, come to me if there’s anything you want to eat or buy. I’ll pay,” Ron declared grandly, grinning from ear to ear.
Right. Back to Hogsmeade again…
At least Harry now possessed a little hope and no longer looked quite so miserable. He joined Ron in discussing the interesting things Hogsmeade offered.
Harry hoped Dumbledore would sign his permission form. Surely he would. Headmaster Dumbledore was a kind, approachable man who could usually be reasoned with.
Meanwhile, in the common room of Gryffindor Tower…
Hedwig’s cage stood quietly on the windowsill in Harry’s dormitory. Beyond the glass lay the Black Lake, the Forbidden Forest and one corner of the castle. The view was magnificent.
Scabbers had buried the rat’s head in the food bowl and was eating furiously. After being deprived of proper meals lately and sleeping for an entire day and night, every nerve in the small body screamed for energy.
Only when food seemed to reach the throat did Scabbers stop. The rat gulped down a great quantity of water, filling every remaining gap between the packed morsels.
Looking supremely content, Scabbers lazily flopped onto the thick bedding Ron had provided and gazed idly through the window.
No immortal would trade away a life this comfortable…
As the rat lay there, Scabbers suddenly rolled over and struggled to look at the calendar beside Neville’s bed. The clear, bright-red word Sunday stabbed at buried memories.
It was already Sunday… Wait. How could it be Sunday?!
Scabbers distinctly remembered that today should be Saturday!
Yet no matter how hard the rat tried, the memories between Saturday and Sunday seemed to have been dug out completely. Nothing surfaced. Wordless panic rose from Scabbers’s heart and flooded the hidden wizard’s soul.
What had happened?
What had happened during that missing day and night?!
The credit belonged to the drops of Draught of Living Death Suer had told Ron to administer. Mixed into them was a little diluted Swooping Evil venom–
a natural agent of forgetfulness. One could imagine the madness that might follow if a man unknowingly lost that particular possession. Suer had no desire to be chased and bitten by a rat.
As for Scabbers returning to human form and pursuing him through the castle with a wand?
One must not forget that Dumbledore had eyes everywhere. If a man dead for ten years suddenly reappeared, the story behind it would not remain hidden.
Truthfully, Suer had wondered whether Peter Pettigrew might fly into a rage and return to human form upon discovering the truth. If Peter showed that much spirit, Suer might even think a little better of him and offer an approving thumbs-up.
In reality, Suer was destined for disappointment. The instant Scabbers discovered the missing memories, the rat examined its body. Naturally, the absence of one particular part did not go unnoticed.
Peter’s first emotion was utter humiliation. Then came fury.
Who? Who? Who?!
High, piercing shrieks echoed through Harry’s dormitory. If anyone opened the door at that moment, they would hear violent crashes as Scabbers hurled against the cage.
But everyone was eating in the Great Hall. Scabbers could only rage alone. Peter longed to return to human form and destroy everything, but did not dare.
Reason warned him that the instant he revealed his true form, what awaited him would inevitably be…
So, once Scabbers had battered the rat’s head into a daze, Peter could only struggle to accept the unacceptable outcome.
Galloping Merlin… I went to sleep… How did I wake up a eunuch?