"All right, don't overthink it."
Seeing Harry's expression, Bill returned to his relaxed tone.
He stood up and stretched.
"I need to head back. I've got a Defense Against Dark Magic class tomorrow morning. I need to work out how to sound like an old hand and make a lesson on keeping your bearings in a maze sound like a philosophy class."
"Thanks for all your effort, Bill."
Harry spoke from the heart.
"Same to you."
Bill smiled and winked, then turned toward the fireplace.
"Get writing. I'll check tomorrow. If Professor McGonagall's essay still isn't finished, I wouldn't mind using Douglas's Straight-Faced Nonsense Generation Charm once."
With that, he grabbed a handful of Floo Powder and vanished into the green flames.
Silence returned to the study.
Harry sat at the desk without moving for a long time.
He picked up the essay on Transfiguration and looked at the clear logical framework Bill had drawn up for him, a jumble of feelings stirring in his heart.
He thought of Ron. If Ron were here, he would probably exclaim, "Wicked!" and then pester Bill for more embarrassing stories about Douglas.
He thought of Hermione. If Hermione were here, she would certainly take out a notebook, record Bill's views on the "professor customer theory" word for word, then apply those principles more broadly to devise a "perfect homework plan" for every professor.
He missed them.
But this time, that longing no longer came with loneliness and helplessness.
He picked up his quill and dipped it in ink again.
The nib touched the parchment with a scratching sound.
Outside the window, London's night lay deep as the sea, but beneath the warm light in the study.
A boy was taking part, in his own way, in a war no one knew about.
Before