Once aboard the Knight Bus, Harry finally had the leisure to consider other matters. What fresh horrors await in the next set of textbooks? What new torment will be inflicted upon us in class? And who will be the unfortunate soul to fill the Defense Against the Dark Arts post this year? He also needed to inquire about everyone's chosen electives.
Harry himself had opted for Divination and Muggle Studies. In truth, he would have preferred to focus solely on Muggle Studies, considering he had lived as a Muggle until the age of eleven.
Alas, one had to select at least two electives.
Thus, he found himself once again signed up for Divination. The subject held a certain mysterious allure, but Harry was confident in his dice-rolling abilities; a little guesswork never hurt.
More importantly, he had gleaned from the other Death Eaters that Professor Trelawney, the instructor of the course, was a complete nincompoop. She herself had no grasp of Divination, merely spouting vague pronouncements to secure high marks.
As Harry mused, he noticed Stan Shunpike leaning against the iron bar, engrossed in a copy of the Daily Prophet. The accompanying GIF displayed a disheveled, crazed man laughing maniacally at the camera.
That fellow... I get a bad vibe...
Harry squinted, endeavoring to get a better look at the man in the newspaper.
Realizing Harry's interest, Stan Shunpike naturally shared the latest news. "A Death Eater named Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban. He's the first murderer ever to escape the fortress."
"Oh, my colleague."
"..."
Though tempted to retort, Stan Shunpike knew Harry spoke the truth.
Remembering that the lad before him was allied with Voldemort, Stan Shunpike's enthusiasm for gossip waned.
"Say, this Sirius... who did he kill?" Harry remained curious about the man.
Stan Shunpike seemed to realize something, and a strange smile touched his lips. "He killed your parents."
"..."
Harry regarded Stan Shunpike with displeasure. "Are you being insolent?"
"Merely stating the truth." Stan Shunpike shrugged, unfazed.
Realizing the man was not jesting, Harry grew agitated and pressed Stan Shunpike for details.
Seeing this, though Stan Shunpike disliked the troublesome youth, a pang of pity struck him, and he relented. "It's not so much that he murdered your parents, but that he betrayed them, leading to their deaths."
Harry's pupils dilated. Betrayal... an unbearable word.
"It seems Sirius Black was once a friend to your parents." Stan Shunpike sighed, observing Harry's distress, but continued. "It's said the Potters' address was protected by a Fidelity Charm, and the Secret Keeper was none other than Sirius Black. But it later came to light that he was a servant of the Dark Lord, that he betrayed the Potters, leading the Dark Lord to them, and then..."
Stan Shunpike left the sentence unfinished, knowing Harry would grasp the implication.
As expected, Harry asked no further questions, merely sitting in silence.
Stan Shunpike wished to comfort Harry, but lacked the words, and so buried his attention in his newspaper.
A strange silence settled over the Knight Bus.
...
Night. A deserted London street, just outside the Leaky Cauldron.
Beep beep~
The Knight Bus horn blared, signaling the final stop.
The doors hissed open, and a dazed Harry stepped off with his luggage.
Looking at the Leaky Cauldron, Harry was about to enter when a voice called from behind.
"Oi, you!"
Turning, Harry saw Stan Shunpike standing at the bus door, looking at him. "Don't dwell on it too much. And... if you need anything, the Knight Bus will be there for you."
"..."
Seeing Stan Shunpike scratching his head awkwardly, Harry forced a smile. "Thanks, but mind your own business. I'm the Death Eaters' second-in-command."
"Tch, can't be bothered with you. Away with you!"
Seeing Harry was somewhat improved, Stan Shunpike reboarded the bus, which sped off into the night.
...
Entering the Leaky Cauldron, Harry noted it was late.
No customers remained; they had likely retired to their rooms. Only Old Tom and a young waiter were present, wiping down the wooden tables.
The wooden chairs and cups moved aside to ease the cleaning, a sight Harry was accustomed to.
Old Tom seemed unsurprised by Harry's arrival, as if he had been expecting him.
This bewildered Harry. Previously, Old Tom would always glance nervously behind him, checking for Tom.
But tonight, Old Tom behaved strangely. Had he finally overcome his fear of Tom?
"Room 306. Someone awaits you upstairs," the young waiter answered Harry's unspoken question.
Taken aback, Harry's eyes lit up as if realizing something, his displeasure vanishing.
Tap tap tap…
Harry rushed upstairs with cheerful steps.
…
Click.
The door to room 306 was unlocked, and Harry opened it with ease.
He immediately saw Tom sitting by the window, cheek resting on his hand, legs crossed, reading a book.
Just as he had hoped!
Harry didn't know why Tom was here, but it mattered not. What mattered was that Tom was here.
As a good older brother, Tom understood Harry's confusion. "Your aunt's sister is quite audacious, daring to speak ill of me behind my back. I sensed it."
Understanding dawned on Harry.
"She knows nothing of the wizarding world, but an Auror has already been dispatched to erase her memories."
Tom closed his book, gazing calmly at Harry. "You little rascal..."
?!
Harry's heart skipped a beat, and he hastily lowered his head, feeling responsible for causing Tom trouble.
"Why are you such a coward?"
"Huh?"
Looking up in surprise, Harry saw Tom's teasing smile.
"If it were me, I'd simply kill the old woman."
Tom spoke truthfully. He cared not whether a person deserved to die, nor their nature. If they angered him, they were prepared for death.
Deserving death was not his concern; that was the domain of Death… And if you ask how to meet Death? I will send you to meet Him.
But to Harry, this was merely Tom trying to comfort him!
"Waaah…"
Harry was instantly moved to tears.
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