Chapter 44

Chapter 44

Hermione wanted to leave Suer and sit with Susan, with whom she got along reasonably well, in another compartment.

Then she saw the pitiful look from that awful boy.

Why had she softened again?

Pathetic!

The more Hermione thought about it, the angrier she became. She slapped her own thigh.

“Meow.”

Hermione’s ears pricked.

She looked at Suer, seated across the compartment, and endured the urge to speak.

“Hey!” In the end, she could not stop herself. “Did you hear a cat?”

“A cat?” Suer tilted his head. “No.”

As if to disprove him, another sound followed.

“Meow…”

Ding.

Radar activated.

Hermione rose with a grave expression and swept her gaze around the small compartment. The cat called at precisely the right moments, providing a signal for her search.

Her eyes soon fixed on Suer’s chest.

More precisely, on the inner pocket of his robes over his chest.

Stare.

“Meow.”

Stare harder.

“Meow.”

“All right.” Suer sighed. “There is a cat.”

Hermione said nothing.

She continued staring.

“I meant to hide it for a few days and give it to you at Christmas,” Suer muttered.

He had never expected to be discovered so quickly. If he had known, he would have mixed something to make the cat sleepy into its food before boarding the train.

Beneath Hermione’s gaze, Suer had no choice but to take the small cloth pouch from inside his robes. He loosened the mouth and reached inside.

He pulled out a cage.

A ginger cat sat within.

“Here. Your Christmas present.”

Suer placed the cage gently on the table and pushed it toward Hermione.

The surprise was so great that it caught Hermione completely unprepared.

Warmth filled her. She opened the cage at once, gathered the cat into her arms, and pressed her face affectionately against its fur.

Only after a long while did she finally raise her satisfied face.

“How did you know I planned to buy it in Diagon Alley at Christmas?”

“I didn’t.” Suer’s eyes curved with his smile. “But I knew you liked it.”

“Oh. Thank you.” Hermione lowered her eyes awkwardly.

“I truly didn’t mean to make fun of you that day,” Suer said.

“I forgot about that ages ago.” Hermione’s cheeks were faintly pink as she stroked the cat. “Do you think I’m such a petty person?”

Suer rolled his eyes inwardly.

You’re the pettiest person I know, aren’t you?

“I want to name it,” Hermione said. “Do you have any suggestions?”

“It belongs to you now. You can choose its name.” Suer smiled.

Hermione lowered her head and thought.

“I know.” Her eyes brightened. She lifted the cat before her face. “Crookshanks.”

“Hello, Crookshanks.”

“Meow.”

Suer stared at Hermione and Crookshanks looking into each other’s eyes, momentarily lost in thought.

So much had happened early, yet fate still placed the same name upon this cat.

Time slipped past like the scenery beyond the carriage window, accompanied by the rhythmic clatter of the train.

“Dad!”

Hermione ran toward Mr. Granger outside the station with the cat in her arms.

She was still an eleven-year-old child. Her attachment to her family had only deepened with time.

Since Hermione carried the cat, Suer had to struggle with both trunks.

Inside the barrier, he could use the Levitation Charm and let them follow. Outside, his small body had to drag two trunks weighing at least ten kilograms apiece.

Why couldn’t a house-elf simply send the luggage straight home?

Hermione’s trunk must have been filled with books again.

She never wasted a single holiday.

After a great deal of pulling and hauling, Suer finally dragged the trunks to Mr. Granger’s car.

“Thank you for collecting us, Mr. Granger.”

“Welcome back, Suer.”

Mr. Granger embraced him, then took the trunks and placed them in the boot.

“Suli and Angel are waiting at home. Shall we go?”

“Home, home!” Hermione climbed into the back seat with the cat and urged them on cheerfully.

Suer fastened his seat belt and looked toward Mr. Granger as he started the car.

“Are Angel and Mum well?”

“Everything at home is fine. Your mother visits my wife every day for tea and conversation,” Mr. Granger said with a smile.

The car left King’s Cross Station. Laughter and occasional meows kept the journey lively. Mr. Granger had a fine sense of humour, and something amusing happened at his dental practice nearly every day.

When the car entered Lily Street and the familiar houses came into view, Suer grew silent.

Screech.

The car stopped.

“We’re home, young man.”

Mr. Granger gently ruffled Suer’s hair.

Suer stared at his front door.

Mrs. Ellison stood there holding a little girl’s hand. Angel had grown considerably since he left.

Suer mechanically unfastened his seat belt, opened the door, and stepped out.

“Bwother!”

Angel’s cry rushed closer.

The familiar impact followed. A small cannonball flew straight into his arms.

“Bw-bwother…” Angel buried her head against Suer. “I… I missed you so much… Waaaah…”

Her childish sobs melted Suer’s heart.

“Don’t cry. Your brother is home, isn’t he?”

Suer drew Angel back and wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes. Their foreheads touched, one large and one small.

“I missed you too, little angel.”

“I brought you presents. If you cry until you’re a little tabby cat, you won’t get any.”

Soothed by his gentle voice, Angel quickly stopped crying.

Suer held her hand with one of his own and pulled his luggage with the other as they walked to the door.

“Mum… I’m home.”

He looked at Mrs. Ellison. Her smiling eyes now had fine lines at their corners.

“Welcome home, son.”

Mrs. Ellison gathered Suer into her arms, rubbed his slightly curly hair, and smiled.

Mr. Granger watched the scene with delight, then glanced at his daughter, who was close to tears.

“Welcome home, Hermione.”

He pulled her into a brief, tight embrace before letting go. His girl was growing up; he could no longer be excessively affectionate.

Neither family noticed the woman standing at an upstairs window in a house across the street, silently watching them.

“He has a good family, Brother,” she murmured.