Chapter 33
Chapter 33
On the third floor of the castle, Suer led Hermione into an empty classroom with both of them bent low.
“Here? It isn’t very convenient. What if someone discovers us…”
“Don’t worry. It will be over quickly.”
“All right. Then I’ll begin.”
Inside the classroom, Suer and Hermione stood opposite each other on either side of a desk. A small transparent bottle and a sheet of parchment covered in writing sat between them.
Hermione held her wand with a grave expression, its tip aimed at the mouth of the bottle.
An awkward incantation left her red lips. As the final syllable fell, a stream of bright blue flame poured from her wand and gathered of its own accord into a dancing ball inside the glass.
Suer quickly picked up the stopper and sealed the bottle.
“Hm. It really does resemble a bluebell.”
He lifted the bottle, shook it gently several times, then handed it to Hermione.
She cupped it in both hands and studied it closely, the dancing flame reflected in her pupils.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
Suer followed the same method and created bluebell flames of his own. They hovered and danced in the air like tiny fire spirits, driving away every trace of cold.
After lowering his wand, Suer extended one fingertip toward the flame.
“Just as the book said. It is gentle–far gentler than any fire should be.”
His finger felt no pain, only a steady warmth.
Pop.
The instant Suer poked into it, the flame dissolved and vanished.
“Hm. And it cannot injure the caster. What is this spell actually for?”
“Perhaps it is only meant to be beautiful and provide heat?” Hermione raised the bottle in her hands. “It’s very warm. We can use it to warm our hands on the way to lessons.”
“Heat?” Suer raised his brows and smiled at her. “Hermione, would you like to make some money?”
“Make money?” Hermione tilted her head. “How?”
Suer pointed to the bottle in her hands.
“I’ve heard countless people complain about the cold these past few days. I think they would gladly pay for something that keeps them warm.”
“This?” Hermione’s brows rose. “But we don’t need money at school.”
“Christmas is coming,” Suer reminded her. “We need to buy presents.”
“All right.” Hermione had little sense of commerce. She nodded blankly. “What do we do?”
“Borrow the book containing this spell and keep it for as long as possible. Ideally, don’t return it until the weather turns warm,” Suer instructed.
“As for the business itself, we should leave that to the people best suited to it.”
Suer smiled. He had the perfect partners in mind: the Weasley twins. George and Fred would one day open a successful joke shop in Diagon Alley.
In only a few moments, Suer had formed a complete plan. He was about to explain it to Hermione when a gloomy gaze shot toward them from the side.
Filch.
How did he always manage to find people among hundreds of empty rooms?
There was no choice. The discussion would have to wait. Under Filch’s stare, the two braced themselves and left the classroom.
Hermione went to the library to find and officially borrow the book containing the bluebell-flame spell. Suer had another task.
He wandered around for some time without finding George or Fred. Instead, he spotted Harry flying back and forth over the Quidditch pitch.
“Hufflepuff?”
A tall, powerfully built boy blocked Suer as he prepared to enter the pitch. The boy looked hostile, as though confronting a mortal enemy.
Suer gave him a puzzled glance and nodded.
“What are you doing here?” The boy interrogated him with the intensity of a law-enforcement officer questioning a criminal.
Suer frowned. The stare made him uncomfortable, but he answered anyway.
“I’m looking for someone.”
The boy opened his mouth, but Harry had already spotted Suer from the air.
“Hi, Suer!”
He dived straight toward them and performed a perfect stop directly in front of Suer.
“Wood, he’s my friend.”
The boy named Wood continued to stare at Suer as though he were a class enemy. Harry hurried to explain.
“He won’t tell anyone about me–er, I mean, about me being here.”
“Very well.” Wood remained suspicious, but he nodded. “Since your friend has come looking for you, we’ll stop here for today.”
“All right.”
Harry looked delighted. He seized his broom and hurriedly dragged Suer away from the Quidditch pitch.
“This damned weather is freezing, but Wood insists I train out here. You know, the match is about to begin,” Harry said as they walked.
“You’ve joined the Quidditch team?” Suer asked, pretending not to know. “What position?”
Harry stopped for a moment and looked around nervously.
“Seeker,” he whispered. “Don’t tell anyone. Wood has a plan to use me as Gryffindor’s secret weapon.”
Suer nodded.
An awkward silence settled over them as they followed the path connecting the pitch and the castle.
Suer and Harry were not particularly close. No–that was not quite right. Suer knew Harry extremely well, while Harry had scarcely interacted with him.
“Don’t tell anyone,” Harry repeated. “Wood will kill me if the secret gets out. By the way, why were you looking for me?”
“I won’t tell.” Suer paused. “Actually, meeting you at the pitch was an accident. I came to find George and Fred.”
Anyone with greater emotional intelligence would probably not have been so blunt. But becoming too involved with Harry this year meant risking a direct encounter with Voldemort. Even reduced to a weakened soul, the Dark Lord could possess countless hidden methods capable of making a person wish for death.
Harry did not seem to notice anything strange in Suer’s answer. If anything, he appeared rather… pleased?
“They may have spent the entire day in the common room. Other Houses can’t enter without the password, you know. I mean, if I see George or Fred there, I can tell them you’re looking for them.”
“All right. I’ve tried everywhere else.” Suer’s eyes curved. “Thank you, Harry.”
“It’s nothing.” Harry gave him a foolish grin.
As they approached the castle, Harry began to panic. Every Gryffindor they encountered smiled, patted him on the shoulder, and offered encouragement.
“I know you’ll play brilliantly.”
“We’ll run underneath you carrying mattresses. If you fall off your broom, you won’t be hurt.”
Harry looked pleadingly at Suer.
Suer merely spread his hands.
“It appears the news has leaked.”
“I didn’t tell them. I only just learned that you’re Gryffindor’s Seeker.”