Chapter 255

Chapter 255

Dumbledore did not say what he regretted.

Suer could make a reasonable guess. It was probably the love he had been unable to regain. To be honest, Suer had nearly blurted out the truth while they were in the headmaster’s office.

In the end, he restrained himself. Ariana Dumbledore wished to wait a little longer, so wait they would.

He slept soundly through the night.

The following morning was Saturday. Suer had barely left the Hufflepuff common room when Hermione, who had been pacing outside, caught him. She knew nothing about what had happened after her departure, and curiosity had tormented her all night.

On their way to the Great Hall, Suer gave her a brief account of the outcome.

“So Black is going to become our Defence Against the Dark Arts professor next term? Together with Professor Lupin?” Hermione asked in astonishment.

“That’s right.” Suer nodded. “You probably don’t know this, but Black is Harry’s godfather.”

“His godfather?” Hermione’s brown eyes widened.

“Shh. Don’t tell Harry yet. Let it be a surprise.” Suer grinned mischievously. “He must have been terrified yesterday, thinking his own godfather wanted to kill him.”

“He certainly was,” Hermione agreed. “Ron was even more frightened. I heard he spent the whole night grieving in the dormitory. He thought Scabbers had heroically sacrificed himself to save him.”

The very next moment, however, reality slapped Hermione across the face. At the Gryffindor table, Ron was enthusiastically recounting the previous night’s extraordinary events, his face glowing with excitement.

“If you consider his current appearance grief.” Suer raised an eyebrow at Hermione.

“I overestimated him. I thought he would mourn Scabbers for at least a few days after keeping him for so long.” Hermione rolled her eyes speechlessly and blew at a loose strand of hair across her forehead.

“Scabbers was a good pet. Even when he belonged to the rest of my family, he was always a quiet, well-behaved rat. He ate whatever we gave him,” Ron said with a broad grin. “I never imagined that last night…”

“When Black came at me with a gleaming knife and tried to stab me, Scabbers threw himself forwards.”

“It was so moving.” Ron made a great show of wiping his eyes. “He saved my life. I think Black must have been starving and wanted to eat me. Scabbers gave his life heroically to protect me.”

“He was worthy of Gryffindor. Er, a Gryffindor rat. He faced danger bravely to protect someone he cherished.”

“I have to write home and tell everyone. Scabbers is the great hero of our entire family.”

Hopefully, when you learn in the next day or two that Scabbers was actually an Animagus — and a despicable traitor — you won’t be too ashamed of everything you said today.

Suer helplessly picked up a slice of bread, spread it with Hermione’s favourite jam and handed it to her.

Hermione accepted it with a sweet smile, then pointed towards Harry, who looked rather dazed at the end of the table.

“Are we truly going to keep it from Harry?”

“A surprise is only a surprise if it appears suddenly at the very end.” Suer spread another slice of bread for himself, added a fragrant strip of fried bacon and stuffed the whole thing into his mouth.

“I expect the news will be in Monday’s Daily Prophet anyway. Two more days will make little difference.”

“True. We shall keep quiet, then.” Hermione narrowed her eyes.

“I’m more curious to see what Ron will do once he learns the truth,” Suer said with a quiet laugh. It was a rather wicked source of amusement.

As usual, the owls entered through the openings high above the Great Hall, carrying letters. Several of them were particularly conspicuous. Together, their claws gripped a long parcel as they circled the hall, evidently searching for their recipient.
At last, they dropped the parcel in front of the absent-minded Harry.

Thump!

It knocked over the milk on the table, sending several drops splashing towards the others.

Ron abandoned his boasting at once and crowded closer, driven by curiosity. Harry was already turning the parcel over in surprise.

“There’s no name,” Suer heard him mutter.

Ron said something, and Harry began unwrapping the parcel.

Ron’s delighted shriek echoed through the entire Great Hall.

“It’s… a Firebolt!”

“Harry, someone sent you a Firebolt!”

Ron’s cry acted like a switch. Almost every young wizard in the hall turned towards them, then surged over in a great wave.

For Harry to receive a Firebolt was rather like an ordinary person suddenly winning a sports car.

He was overjoyed too. He had still been grieving over his Nimbus, reduced to a heap of splinters, and now he had unexpectedly received the Firebolt he had seen in Diagon Alley during the summer.

“This is a Firebolt! The Irish International side just spent a fortune ordering several of them. Round things up a little and you’re practically ready to play in international matches yourself.”

What magnificent rounding. If Suer possessed a hundred pounds, did rounding make him a billionaire?

Ron continued shouting, “I can already see you ending the match on this Firebolt, Harry. Merlin, I never dreamt I would even get to touch one!”

The crowd forced Suer and Hermione into a corner of the table.

“A Firebolt?” Hermione asked in surprise. “Who could have sent it?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Suer had already guessed. “Harry’s godfather, of course.”

“Black? Is he really that rich?” Hermione remembered the final words in the broom’s Diagon Alley display: Price on request. She did not need to ask to know it must be extraordinarily expensive.

Since Hermione already knew that Black was merely an unfortunate scapegoat, she did not spoil Harry’s pleasure by suggesting the broom might have been cursed by him.

“Extremely rich,” Suer confirmed. “The match against Ravenclaw will be difficult now. Harry will unquestionably be the fastest player on the pitch.”

Gryffindor Quidditch captain Oliver Wood soon heard the news and charged into the Great Hall. Wild with delight, he forced his way through the crowd and promptly lifted Harry bodily out of it.

Yes, lifted. Wood was nearly twice Harry’s size. Beside him, Harry looked like a delicate girl next to a hulking brute.

There was no doubt that Wood was desperate to get Harry onto the Firebolt and into the air.

Ron followed excitedly. He plainly wanted to touch the magnificent broom he could not have afforded even if he sold himself, then take it up for several circuits.

More than half the Great Hall emptied at once. Most of the young wizards eating breakfast followed them. There was no helping it: Quidditch was immensely popular in the wizarding world, and broomsticks naturally commanded just as much attention.

“What are you planning to do today?” Hermione asked, turning towards Suer after finishing her breakfast.

“I arranged to meet Professor Filius Flitwick. I’ll go and see him shortly.” Suer wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin, then noticed a dab of purple jam at the corner of the girl’s lips. Quite naturally, he reached over and gently wiped it away.

Unaccustomed to the gesture, Hermione drew back slightly, her small face turning red.

“I… I’m going to the library.”