Third-Year Preparations

The next day was their trip to King's Cross Station. The Weasley family, along with Bing Huan and Hermione, had arrived early to stay at the Leaky Cauldron.

"Harry!"

Everyone greeted Harry from the second floor. Mrs. Weasley was the first to give him a big hug. "Dear, I'm so glad you're all right."

After they sat down at the table, Ron stared curiously at Bing Huan. The Monster Book of Monsters, which had nearly injured him, lay motionless in Bing Huan's hands. "Huan, how did you get it to calm down?"

Bing Huan blinked. "I didn't."

Ron: ?

Bing Huan loosened his grip on one side. The book immediately snapped shut, trying to bite his hand, but Bing Huan forced it open again. It couldn't move in his grasp. "You just have to be stronger than it."

"Don't move around." Hermione couldn't handle the book on her own, so she had to let Bing Huan hold it down for her. That way, she could get a head start on reading its contents.

Lunch was served, and Percy came downstairs too. He pinned his silver Head Boy badge somewhere it would be seen at once. Mrs. Weasley shared her delight and expressed her rather unrealistic hopes for the Twins.

Bing Huan couldn't imagine George or Fred becoming a Prefect, let alone Head Boy. They'd probably tear the roof off Gryffindor Tower.

"You should set a good example for your younger siblings," Mrs. Weasley said, exasperated.

"Are you two planning not to sleep?" Harry stared blankly at the two huge stacks of books on the table.

"I only picked a few extra classes."

"A few?" Harry turned to Bing Huan. "What about you?"

"She wants to take them, so I'll go along with it."

"But you didn't choose Divination."

"You know I can't touch any of that until my master gives me the go-ahead."

"Then you'll have to help me carry my things later."

"Sure~"

That afternoon, the four of them strolled down Diagon Alley. Hermione planned to buy herself a birthday present.

"So you're going to the bookshop?" Ron and Harry said in unison as they scooped up their ice cream, then exchanged a grin.

"Brats," Hermione muttered. "Not this year. I really want an owl right now. No—"

Old Leng: (・∧・)?

The owl perched on Bing Huan's shoulder tilted his head to look at her, his expression seeming to say, "You've had me for two years, and now you're tired of me, is that it?"

Apparently intimidated by Old Leng's stare, Hermione quickly explained, "Old Leng sometimes has to help me keep in touch with people outside, and it's not convenient to have him come over when I want to write to my parents in the dorm at night. It's not like we're at home. Oh, Hedwig came along too. Ron, where's your owl?"

"No, Errol belongs to the whole family." Ron took Scabbers out of his pocket. "I only have Scabbers. I want to take him in for a checkup this year, anyway. He seemed to have a bit of trouble adjusting to the climate in Egypt."

That rat looked even thinner than the last time they'd seen him. "There's a Magical Menagerie right over there." Harry had gotten to know Diagon Alley inside out over the past few days.

Harry went with Ron to queue at the counter. They needed an employee's expert advice. Hermione went to see if she could find an owl she liked. Bing Huan frowned, deep in thought, when Hermione suddenly tapped him on the back.

"What's wrong?"

"What are you thinking about? You're completely lost in thought."

"The shop assistant just said Scabbers was an ordinary rat."

"Yeah. So?"

"Three years is already a long life for an ordinary rat, but when I chatted with Mrs. Weasley last time, she said Scabbers was twelve. And as far back as I can remember, Scabbers has always looked like an adult rat with a few toes missing."

"Maybe he's a mutant. Magical creatures and wizards came from ordinary species too, didn't they?"

"True."

They really were the Chosen One and his friends. Even buying pet supplies came with an incident. Just as the shop assistant was getting Ron some rat tonic, a ginger-colored four-legged beast darted down from an upper cage and bared its teeth at Scabbers.

Ron didn't even have time to take the tonic before he rushed to find Scabbers. A little while later, Hermione came out carrying the culprit—a cross between a magical Kneazle and a Persian cat.

"Ron, you forgot the tonic you bought." Bing Huan put it in Ron's hand.

Ron looked at Hermione. "Weren't you going to buy an owl?"

"I thought about it, and Old Leng can probably manage." Hermione rubbed her cheek against the cat. "Besides, look how adorable Crookshanks is!"

"Why did it have to be him? He nearly took a chunk out of my scalp!"

"Relax, Ron. Crookshanks didn't mean to. Come on, say sorry to Uncle Ron." Hermione held the cat up in front of Ron. Unlike before, Crookshanks wasn't spoiling for a fight. He only gave a soft little "meow."

The next moment, Scabbers poked his head out of the pocket on Ron's chest. The innocent, round look on Crookshanks's face turned murderous in an instant. "Hah!" Hermione hurriedly pulled him back into her arms. "Looks like Crookshanks doesn't like Scabbers very much. But it's fine. They won't have to be together at school."

It was nearly dinnertime when the four of them returned to the Leaky Cauldron. Arthur Weasley was sitting in the common room. "How are you, Harry?"

"Pretty good, thanks."

"I've been thinking, and there are a few things I should tell you... Little Huan, come over too." Weasley led them both to a corner. "Little Huan, Headmaster Dumbledore must have told you about Harry's family, right?"

"Yeah."

"Good. You two have heard of Sirius Black, haven't you? You don't look very afraid."

Harry said, "Really, I'm not trying to act tough, but can he really be worse than Voldemort?"

"You're braver than I expected, Harry. I'm glad, but—" Arthur's expression suddenly turned serious. "Although Sirius Black escaped from prison this time to come after you, you have to promise me that no matter what happens, you won't go looking for him."

"Why would I go looking for someone who wants to kill me?"

Arthur put a hand on Harry's shoulder, meeting his eyes. "Promise me, no matter what you hear. All right, son?"

"Okay."

Nearby, Bing Huan held a newspaper with Sirius Black's picture on it. "Uncle Arthur, is there solid evidence that Sirius Black was responsible for what happened back then?"

"Hm? Why do you ask?"

"Honestly, his face doesn't look like that of someone who'd commit such a treacherous, dishonorable act."

"That's right. When it happened, none of us could believe it either. But it could only have been him."

"..."

"Arthur, the children are here for dinner!" Mrs. Weasley called from the dining table.

"Coming, Molly. All right, let's go. Remember what you promised me."

Harry followed behind and leaned toward Bing Huan. "Huan, why did you ask that just now?"

Bing Huan leaned his head back slightly. "Honestly, ever since what happened with Hagrid, I've had a hard time trusting the Ministry of Magic—especially Fudge. Uncle Arthur's the exception."

"But you didn't trust the Ministry of Magic in the first place, did you?"

"...That's true."

That evening, Percy dragged Ron away from his chess game so he could pack. There wouldn't be much time for it in the morning. Before they boarded the train, Mrs. Weasley hugged everyone, holding Harry a little longer than the rest. She really liked the boy.

They searched the whole train. Every compartment was full—or rather, there was only one seat left. The very last one at the rear, where a sleeping man was the only occupant.

"Looks like we'll have to squeeze in here."

"Professor Lupin?" Hermione recognized the man.

"How did you know?"

Hermione pointed at the trunk on the luggage rack.

"What do you think he'll teach us?" Ron asked as he sat down beside him.

"If the professor in that position hasn't changed, he should be teaching us Dark Arts Defense."

Professor Lupin wore a shabby wizard's robe and looked sickly. Ron couldn't help worrying. "Can he really do it? He looks so frail."

"At least he can't be worse than Lockhart, can he?" It was worth mentioning that Lockhart had been unconscious for several days after being rescued from the Chamber of Secrets. While he was out, he kept talking in his sleep, spilling everything he'd done to harm people over the years.

As for what awaited him when he woke up, it was, of course, an endless prison sentence. They heard that he still hadn't given up writing, even in Azkaban.