"Training over?"
Sirius Black calmly slipped the letter back into his robe pocket, wiping every expression from his face before looking up at Harry and the other two, who had just returned to the sitting room for a break. He casually picked up the Butterbeer keg on the table and poured each of them a glass.
"It's over!" Harry said.
"They all did brilliantly."
Leaning on his cane, Moody plopped down onto the sofa beside them. He pulled a metal flask from his robe pocket, took a swig, and praised them without reservation. "I believe they'll all become excellent Aurors someday."
Moody had trained Harry, Ron, and Hermione according to the standards for apprentice Aurors. It had to be said that the three of them were better than most apprentice Aurors newly recruited by the Ministry of Magic.
"Harry has always been outstanding," Sirius said proudly. "Just like James."
"However..." Moody paused, shaking his head. "If they want to go onto the battlefield, they'll need more systematic training. A few months of crash courses won't be enough."
In truth, he had little confidence in Harry and the others' coming mission, and he understood even less what Dumbledore was thinking.
"Be fair, Mad-Eye," Sirius said. "Harry isn't even of age yet. His performance is already exceptional."
"Harry is certainly good, better than most people, but he has more important things to accomplish in the future," Moody said bluntly. "To be honest, if they go onto the battlefield with no experience, I seriously doubt they'll survive until school starts in September."
Moody had not forgotten Dumbledore's final words. Harry was their most precious hope. They had to believe in him.
And it was precisely because he was their hope that Moody could not help worrying about Harry's safety.
Harry was still too