"—promise to be a good boy and stay inside the castle?" Harry said gloomily.
"Not exactly," Mr. Weasley said. Harry had never seen him look so serious. "Harry, promise me you won't go looking for Black."
Harry was stunned. "What?"
Before Mr. Weasley could answer, a loud horn blasted. The Knight Bus—the massive vehicle Harry had seen before, said to take a wizard anywhere except underwater—materialized. The conductor stood by the open doors, calling out lazily.
"Promise me, Harry," Mr. Weasley said, speaking faster now. "No matter what happens—"
"Why would I go looking for someone I know wants to kill me?" Harry asked, completely baffled.
"Swear to me, no matter what you hear—"
"Arthur, hurry up!" Mrs. Weasley called out, having already moved toward the edge of the pavement.
There was no more time for goodbyes. Harry could only watch as Mr. Weasley grabbed his luggage and hurried toward the bus, catching up to Sean, who was up ahead.
Ron hung back. He wasn't leaving the Leaky Cauldron; he was staying behind with Harry.
"I can't wait for them to leave, even if they'll be back soon," Ron said. "At least it gets me away from Percy. He's currently yelling at me for dripping tea on his picture of Penelope Clearwater. You know," Ron made a face, "his girlfriend. She hid her face behind the frame because her nose was covered in tea stains..."
The bus gave a violent shudder and sped off. Harry and Ron waved at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley through the window. The couple had just finished hugging Sean and dropping the young wizard off at the pub entrance. Finally, the bus turned a corner and vanished from sight.
Sean's hair had been thoroughly ruffled by Mrs. Weasley, but with a tap of his wand, the messy locks fell perfectly back into place. Turning around, he saw a bewildered Harry, a pouting Ron, and Justin chatting with Hermione. In the distance, a wizard in flowing black robes was approaching.
Sean immediately recognized Professor Snape. The professor always arrived to pick him up at the exact scheduled time. But Harry reached them before Snape could.
"I need to talk to you guys," Harry muttered to the group.
"About what?" Ron asked, clueless.
"Oh, sure, of course," Justin nodded.
"What about Sean?" Hermione asked, looking around.
Sean walked over quietly, joining an anxious Harry and the curious group as they headed inside the pub. Upstairs, a black dog couldn't help but let out a couple of barks.
"You don't see wizards keeping black dogs as pets very often," Ron muttered.
"That's not a wizard..." Hermione raised an eyebrow, hesitating slightly. She had seen that goblin-like creature before; Sean had brought it to Hogwarts once. As for why it was here now, keeping a black dog as a pet, she had no idea.
"Its owner is a Pukwudgie, a distant relative of goblins," Justin explained patiently to Ron.
"That just makes it even weirder..." Ron grimaced, turning to Harry. "Anyway, Harry. What did you want to tell us?"
Harry recounted the Weasleys' argument and Mr. Weasley's warning word for word.
When he finished, Ron stared in stunned silence, Justin frowned quietly, and Hermione clamped her hands over her mouth. Dropping her hands, she finally said, "Sirius Black escaped to come after you? Oh, Harry... you have to be incredibly, incredibly careful. Don't go looking for trouble, Harry..."
"I don't go looking for trouble," Harry snapped, annoyed. "Trouble usually finds me."
"Why would he go looking for a madman who wants to kill him? He's not completely mental, is he?" Ron said, shivering.
Harry hadn't expected them to take the news this seriously. Both Ron and Hermione seemed more terrified of Black than he was, so he looked over at Sean. Fortunately, Sean remained completely unbothered, which brought Harry a small measure of comfort. But that relief was quickly followed by a pang of shame. He needed to handle his own problems. How could he keep relying on Sean?
"No one even knows how he broke out of Azkaban," Ron said uneasily. "No one's ever done it before. And he was a high-security prisoner."
"But they'll catch him, won't they?" Hermione said earnestly. "I mean, they've got all the Muggles looking for him too..."
"What's that noise?" Ron asked suddenly.
A faint, barely-there whistling sound was coming from somewhere. They looked around the booth.
"It's coming from your pocket, Harry," Ron said, looking at him.
A moment later, Ron pulled the miniature Sneakoscope out of Harry's robes. It was spinning frantically in Ron's palm, emitting a blinding light.
"Is that a Sneakoscope?" Hermione asked with interest, standing up to get a closer look.
"Yeah... a cheap one, to be honest," Ron admitted. "It started acting up the moment I tied it to Errol's leg to send to Harry."
"You weren't doing anything dodgy at the time, were you?" Hermione asked sharply.
"No! Ugh... I shouldn't have used Errol. You guys know he's not really up for long journeys... but how else was I supposed to get Harry his present?"
"That's odd, then," Hermione concluded, glancing at a nodding Justin and Sean, who was still staring off into the distance.
Sean, of course, knew exactly what was going on. Ron's Sneakoscope had never been broken. It had been detecting Scabbers all along, and right now, it was more than likely detecting Professor Snape. Snape always carried a few Dark magic artifacts on him; he was a Dark Arts master, after all. Oh, right—he had also been teaching Sean how to identify those very artifacts.
"Turn it off," Harry suggested, wincing at the Sneakoscope's piercing whistle.
Ron shoved the device deep into a particularly hideous old sock inside his bag. The noise instantly muffled, and he snapped the trunk shut.
"We can get it checked out in Hogsmeade," Ron said, sitting back down. "Dervish and Banges sells these kinds of magical gadgets. Fred and George told me."
"Do you know a lot about Hogsmeade?" Hermione asked eagerly. "I've read about it so many times. It's the only entirely non-Muggle settlement in Britain—"
"Yeah, I reckon so," Ron said breezily. "But that's not why I want to go. I just want to check out Honeydukes!"
"The sweetshop?" Hermione clarified.
"That's the one," Ron said, taking on a dreamy expression. "They've got everything... Pepper Imps that make you smoke at the mouth, massive Chocoballs filled with strawberry mousse and clotted cream, and those brilliant Sugar Quills you can suck on during class while looking like you're just thinking about what to write next—"
"Hogsmeade is an incredibly fascinating place," Hermione huffed. "Sites of Historical Sorcery says the inn there was the headquarters for the 1612 goblin rebellion. And the Shrieking Shack is supposedly the most haunted building in Britain—"
"—and massive Jelly Slugs that make you float a few inches off the ground while you eat them," Ron continued, clearly tuning out every word Hermione said.
Hermione turned to look at Justin and Sean. "It'll be brilliant to get out of the castle and explore Hogsmeade once in a while, won't it? You're going, right? Justin? Harry?"
"Yeah," Justin nodded with a smile.
"Of course." Harry's mood had lightened significantly. The mention of Hogsmeade reminded him of the permission slip Aunt Petunia had quietly slipped him. Even though he had blown up Aunt Marge and completely failed to keep his end of the bargain, Aunt Petunia had still signed it. Harry didn't yet realize that love was unconditional.
"So... what about you, Sean?" Hermione asked, having seemingly laid all this groundwork just so she could stare directly at him and ask the question.
"I don't know," Sean said hesitantly.
Hogsmeade was great, and Professor McGonagall had been ready to sign his slip ages ago, but Sean was ultimately stalled by a few specific issues. The letter she had sent him read:
> Dear Mr. Green,
> Please note that the new term begins on September 1st. The Hogwarts Express will depart from King's Cross Station, Platform 9¾, at eleven o'clock.
> If you plan to spend the final week of your summer holiday at the farm, please contact me in person.
> I am pleased to inform you, dear Mr. Green, that third-year students are permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade on select weekends. Please bring the enclosed permission form to me for a signature.
> By the way, your Potions Master has voiced obvious objections to this. Kindly bypass him and come straight to me.
> A booklist for the upcoming term is enclosed.
> Yours sincerely, Deputy Headmistress & Guardian: > Minerva McGonagall
"What... what does that mean?" Ron looked horrified. "You're not allowed to go? But—that's impossible—as long as you've got someone—why wouldn't they sign it?"
"Hey!" Hermione glared at Ron, seemingly remembering something. At Sean's recent birthday party, she hadn't seen a single adult. Well, no adults other than a bunch of professors—no other wizards or Muggles.
Ron caught her glare and looked completely bewildered, unsure what he had done wrong. Still, he quietly suggested, "Maybe... Professor Flitwick or someone could sign it for you—or we could ask Fred and George. They know every secret passage out of the castle—"
"Ron!" Hermione snapped. "That's against the rules—"
"Bloody hell, Hermione, you still care about the rules?" Ron stared at her like she had grown a second head.
Hermione flushed with anger. Ignoring Ron, she muttered, "But Ron has a point. A professor might be able to authorize it." As she spoke, she fiddled with the straps of Crookshanks's wicker basket.
"Don't let that thing out!" Ron warned, but it was too late.
Crookshanks leapt nimbly from the basket, stretched, yawned, and bounded straight onto Ron's lap. The lump in Ron's pocket trembled violently. Furious, Ron shoved the cat away.
"Get off!"
"Ron, stop it!" Hermione said angrily.
"How many times is this now?!" Crookshanks had always harbored a deep hostility toward Scabbers. But everyone figured that was perfectly normal—Crookshanks was a cat, and Scabbers was a rat, after all.
"What do you think?" Hermione asked Sean, holding Crookshanks. The cat had settled onto an empty seat, its squashed, grumpy face turned toward Sean, though its yellow eyes kept darting back to Ron's breast pocket.
"I think not—" a cold, silky voice interjected.
Ron and Harry flinched almost instinctively. Hermione and Justin stared in surprise at Professor Snape, who had suddenly appeared.
"Professor," Sean acknowledged.
"Green..." Snape's sharp eyes swept over the group of young wizards before landing on Sean. "You have five minutes to say your goodbyes. Then, you come with me."
Sean stood up quietly. It was time for him to leave the Leaky Cauldron. Everyone knew he was staying at Hogwarts. Plus, he had plenty of unfinished business waiting for him at the castle—like a locket tainted with dark magic, and his Dark Arts studies, which were only one spell away from reaching the master level.
Sean didn't have much luggage, so packing only took a few minutes.
"May I ask why, Professor?" Justin suddenly asked Snape politely before they left.
"Who knows?" Ron muttered under his breath to Harry. "If you ask me, if anyone from Hogwarts is going to be in charge of him, it should be Professor Flitwick, the Ravenclaw Head of House, not..."
Harry gave a cautious, highly agreeable little nod.
"There is no 'why,'" Snape sneered coldly, turning and sweeping out with Sean in tow.
The pub fell into an immediate silence.
Out on the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley, Snape didn't Apparate right away. He seemed to have something on his mind.
"The escaped convict, Black... are you aware..." he asked, sounding uncharacteristically stiff.
"Yes, Professor," Sean replied, glancing briefly at the black dog sitting by an upstairs window.
"Hmph. Green, you should know that he is dangerous..." Snape leaned down, locking eyes with Sean for a moment before looking away. "Extremely dangerous," he added. "Until the Ministry's collection of fools manages to catch him, you are not permitted to visit Hogsmeade."
His tone grew even more rigid, his dark eyes flickering. He didn't know everything about that particular group, but he was aware of certain things—like that secret passage, and exactly where it led.
"I understand, Professor." Sean was slightly taken aback. Was Professor Snape actually... negotiating with him?
"It seems you aren't entirely brainless—" Snape was in a surprisingly good mood. He cast a cold glance over the storefronts lining Diagon Alley, completely oblivious to his own shifting attitude.
Sean, meanwhile, fell into deep thought. Professor McGonagall had approved it, but Professor Snape was explicitly forbidding it. It seemed he had stumbled into quite the dilemma.
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