Tom had once considered using the notebook as a weapon.
In the end, he abandoned the idea.
If it created a puppet controlled by the notebook's will, the resulting disaster would be far worse than Grindelwald and Voldemort combined.
Tom spoke with unusual seriousness, and Grindelwald finally extinguished that lingering curiosity. He let out a dry laugh.
"This is the first time in my life I've felt weak."
"You're not weak," Tom replied calmly. "It's just that the owner of this notebook was far too powerful. And far too evil."
Before the conversation could continue, a burst of flames flared in midair in the living room. Fawkes emerged from the fire in a flash of scarlet and gold.
"Dumbledore's letter?"
Tom untied the parchment from Fawkes' leg and opened it casually.
"Since you're here, stay a few days. I'll be heading to North America soon."
Newt had written to him. He was currently in the east and would soon be returning with the Qilin. It would not be long before Tom himself set foot in New York.
Fawkes chirped cheerfully and nuzzled Tom's cheek.
No problem. I'll be back after delivering the message.
Tom read the letter quickly.
Dumbledore was inviting him to attend a hearing three days from now. The cases of Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew were to be retried.
Tom felt no interest whatsoever.
He simply had Fawkes carry back a polite refusal.
Spending that time shopping with Daphne sounded far more appealing.
Tom did not care what happened to Sirius. But Harry spent each day in restless anticipation.
Whenever Hedwig brought back a newspaper, he would devour it immediately, searching desperately for news of when his godfather would be freed. There was nothing.
Until one morning.
Snape rang the doorbell of Privet Drive, his expression as blank as ever.
"You?!"
Petunia opened the door. At first she frowned in confusion, but as she looked closer at the black robes and pale face, recognition dawned.
Her old neighbor. Her sister's classmate.
"What is it, dear?"
Vernon lumbered over at Petunia's shriek.
"Who are you? Why are you at my house? We don't welcome your kind here!"
The sight of wizarding robes sent him into blustering outrage, though he did not dare step closer.
It was all that boy's fault. If not for him, their respectable family would never have had dealings with freaks.
Snape remained utterly unmoved by their hostility.
"I am not here for you," he said evenly. "Please call Harry Potter."
"No!" Vernon exploded like an enraged boar. "That old man promised me! During the holidays, the boy is under our discipline. I will not allow him to bring your… unsavory sort into my house!"
"Snape?"
Harry had crept out from his cupboard, drawn by the commotion. The sight of his Potions professor on the doorstep stunned him.
"Impertinent!" Snape snapped instantly, as if by instinct. "Even during the holidays, I am your professor. How does a student greet a professor?"
Harry swallowed his irritation.
"Sorry, Professor. I was just… surprised to see you."
No matter what, Snape was the first wizard he had seen all summer. And perhaps he carried the news Harry had been longing for.
"I am taking Potter to attend to a matter."
Seeing Harry's compliance, Snape's tone softened slightly as he addressed the Dursleys.
Vernon bristled again. "I said no! He is not to have contact with any of you people during the holidays! Whatever it is can wait until term starts!"
Snape ignored him entirely. Instead, he looked at Petunia with a complicated expression.
"Evans. One of the people responsible for your sister's death has been captured. I am taking Potter to witness his trial. Do you truly intend to stop me?"
"One of Lily's killers…" Petunia whispered, eyes widening. "But I thought he was already…"
Her gaze shifted involuntarily to Harry, to the lightning scar on his forehead. Harry suddenly realized his aunt understood far more about the magical world than he had assumed.
"She was betrayed," Snape continued quietly. "And the betrayer has been caught."
"Who?"
"Peter Pettigrew."
Petunia's mind flashed back to a wedding years ago. Though it had ended badly, she remembered Lily's friends.
Especially the short, unpleasant man whose appearance had been disturbingly unforgettable.
"He always looked like a bad sort!" Petunia breathed, her eyes reddening as she turned to Vernon.
Vernon wrapped an arm around her stiffly.
"I understand, dear." He glared at Harry. "Go, then. But if you're not back by midnight, don't bother coming home today."
Harry nodded so vigorously it hurt. His heart had already flown to the Ministry.
"Professor, how are we getting there?"
"Do not ask meaningless questions. Just follow me."
As they walked, Harry hesitated.
"You… seemed to know my aunt?"
Snape nodded without hesitation.
"I grew up next door to the Evans family. Your aunt once wrote to Dumbledore, asking to attend Hogwarts. She was politely declined. From that day on, she despised magic."
Harry stared, stunned. He had never imagined Petunia had once longed to be part of his world.
After that brief explanation, Snape fell silent.
They took a bus. Then the Underground. Finally, they arrived in a quiet alley in central London.
Under Harry's puzzled gaze, Snape led him toward a battered red telephone box that looked long abandoned.