After finishing all this, Marvolio went on, "Where's Harry now? I need to talk to him."
"Ha! How should I know where that brat is? He just threatened me with a little stick and dragged his luggage out the door!"
Vernon jabbed a finger at the tiny space between his head and his body, as if he actually had a neck there.
"See? I'm going to press charges!"
"Sorry, but find your neck first."
Marvolio took a quick look around the living room, muttered, "He's always this accurate," and left, ignoring Vernon's loud complaints behind him.
A second later, he appeared at the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron.
According to Tver, Harry had boarded the Knight Bus after leaving the Dursleys. It was a magical form of public transport, an emergency service for witches and wizards. Whenever someone needed it, it would appear much like Apparition, then send its passengers hurtling across Britain at impossible speeds. And Harry's destination this time was the Leaky Cauldron right in front of him.
So Marvolio had simply come here first. Judging by the situation, he had even arrived a little earlier than Harry.
As for whether he might be wrong... Heh. Marvolio would believe Tver even if he said Harry would someday kill him with a Disarming Charm.
Not long after, Fudge Apparitioned in, having received his message. He hadn't even steadied himself before blurting out, "Dawlish, where's Harry?"
Marvolio pointed toward the road ahead. Under the darkness of night, only a few scattered Muggle cars were passing by.
"On his way."
"But you said Harry was on the Knight Bus? Then how can you be sure his destination—"
Fudge didn't finish. Because a triple-decker bus burst into sight at the far end of the road like a streak of lightning, racing straight toward them. With a sharp screech, it came to a perfect stop in front of them.
Fudge stared, stunned, at Marvolio's faint smile.
"You're always so exceptional," he muttered, then stepped forward to pat Harry on the shoulder as he climbed down.
"So you really were coming here, Harry."
Marvolio wasn't sure whether he should smile at Fudge's praise. Forget it—he was exceptional.
His gaze drifted toward a nearby alley. In the shadows, a dog had slunk close, only just arriving. It was nearly half his height, covered in black fur, but life on the run had left it bony and filthy, its coat dull and matted. Even so, it was bold enough to poke its head out, as if worried Marvolio wouldn't recognize it as an Animagus.
So this was Black's animal form, just as Tver had said?
Marvolio studied the large black dog. Sensing the threat in his eyes, Black immediately spun around and disappeared into the alley. Of course, it also happened to be the moment Fudge finished speaking and ushered Harry inside the pub.
"Dawlish, wait for me a moment. I need to have a few more words with Harry."
Even Fudge seemed a bit embarrassed to be relying on an elite Auror like Dawlish for something like this. Whether that embarrassment was real or just courtesy, Marvolio didn't know, and certainly didn't care.
He clicked his tongue and followed them in at an unhurried pace.
Because the owner of the Leaky Cauldron shared his name, he had remembered this place well over the years.
There were no other guests inside. Tom was behind the bar, leisurely polishing a glass. When he heard footsteps, he looked up with a cheerful expression.
"The Minister?!" Tom rushed over to them. "This late? Would you like something? Beer? Brandy?"
"No, just prepare a room for Harry." Fudge lifted his hand with the air of a superior, stopping Tom's enthusiastic movements.
But Harry felt extremely confused—or rather, he'd been baffled ever since getting off the bus. According to Fudge, he was to stay in the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley until school started. He had to return on time every evening and wasn't allowed to wander anywhere strange. Even after term began, he wasn't allowed to leave the school during Christmas break. The restrictions were stricter than anything the teachers enforced.
"But I used magic outside school!"
"Oh, Dawlish has already taken care of that. You wouldn't want to be expelled, would you?" Fudge said, his expression stiff.
Harry only felt more confused.
"I saw the notice about Black on the bus. Has he been caught?"
"Oh!" Fudge's body jolted slightly. He'd been worn out by this case lately. "We'll catch him. Soon…"
"By the way, Harry, this is Dawlish, the Ministry's outstanding Auror. If you ever run into trouble on the streets, you can go to him."
Fudge patted Marvolio's shoulder proudly, as if drawing some comfort from it himself.
Yet to Harry, the way this Auror was looking at him felt stranger than everything else that had happened tonight combined. He certainly hadn't felt this odd during their previous encounters.
"We won't disturb your rest."
Fudge pulled Marvolio along as they stepped out of the pub.
Outside, only a few muggles passed by now and then. The cool night breeze brushed past them, and the hand Fudge was holding slipped free.
"Dawlish, leave the pursuit of Black to the others. For the next few months, your mission is to protect Harry," he instructed solemnly.
"You think Black will attack Harry?"
"Exactly. Your mind is as sharp as ever!"
Fudge's pleased smile carried a hint of self-satisfaction, clearly proud of his own clever plan. "Much easier than chasing after Black's trail."
"But you can't be the only one protecting Harry, so I'm planning to send Dementors to Hogwarts this year."
This time, Marvolio couldn't keep calm.
"Are you insane? Dumbledore will kill every last one of those Dementors!"
"Don't worry. As long as someone goes to persuade Dumbledore, he'll agree."
Fudge gave a strained laugh. The fact that even the Minister of Magic couldn't force Dumbledore to obey clearly bothered him—and being exposed by his subordinate left him even more embarrassed.
"Who could possibly persuade Dumbledore?"
Fudge's awkwardness vanished in an instant.
"You, of course! Besides you, who else in the Ministry is capable enough?!"
With an expression that practically shouted I believe in you, he enthusiastically slapped Marvolio on the shoulder.