"I… have a godfather?"
Harry had completely forgotten about the Firebolt lying nearby. He just stared blankly at the slip of parchment in his hand. "And he went through something terrible—so terrible that he couldn't show himself for thirteen whole years, didn't even dare tell me his name. And I never knew any of this…"
"Oh—Harry, do you remember?"Ron pondered for a moment, then suddenly spoke up. "That prophecy Ken interpreted for you—the one about the black dog?"
"That's right!"With Ron's reminder, Harry's eyes lit up. "Family, affection, making amends… it fits perfectly with what's happening now! His interpretation was right!"
"If that's the case, then that godfather you've never met must definitely be connected to the 'black dog'!"Ron launched into excited speculation. "Maybe the black dog that scared you during the summer was sent by him to check on you!"
"But how does someone get connected to a black dog…?" Ron frowned. "I don't remember any Pure-blood family crests with a black dog on them. Maybe he keeps a black dog as a pet? Or maybe he has something like you—some kind of 'dog Parseltongue' where he can talk to dogs?"
Harry rolled his eyes at the absurd idea. "You might as well guess that he can turn into a black dog at will."
"Guessing wildly won't get us anywhere. I'm going to find Dumbledore—he must know everything!"
"You're confused, Harry,"Ron reminded him. "Dumbledore left the school several days ago. You'll have to wait until term starts to see him. Same goes for Professor McGonagall."
"Oh… right."Harry rubbed his temples in frustration. "Then Professor Lupin—no, wait. He hasn't been at school at all over the Christmas holiday. He told me he was very close to my parents. He must know who my godfather is…"
"Then think about something else for now,"Ron tried to comfort him. "That feeling of having something hanging over your head is awful—you need a distraction. Want to play a game of Wizard's Chess? Or Gobstones? Or we could go sit with Hagrid for a bit—wait."
"We're forgetting something…"
He slowly turned his head, casting a cautious yet expectant glance toward Harry's side. "The Firebolt."
"You got a Firebolt!!"
"I got a Firebolt!!"
The two of them jumped up at the same time, shouting at the top of their lungs.
"With this, you'll rule the entire Hogwarts Quidditch pitch!" Ron laughed loudly. "Malfoy—just wait until he sees you riding that thing! He'll shrivel up like a sick pig! This is a world-class broom! It even dominated next year's World Cup!"
"It feels like a dream…"Harry murmured, one hand stroking the Firebolt, while Ron collapsed onto Harry's bed, laughing madly at the imagined look on Malfoy's face…
"What are you two laughing about?"
Hermione suddenly appeared in the doorway in her pajamas, Crookshanks tucked under her arm, the cat's neck adorned with a ring of gold foil decorations. She immediately spotted the exquisite broom lying on the bed and froze in shock—so stunned that she didn't even notice Crookshanks slipping from her arms to the floor.
"Oh, Harry! Who gave you that?!"
"Merlin's beard,"Ron clutched his forehead. "We just forgot that question."
So Harry had no choice but to pick up the tantalizing mystery again, recounting everything from start to finish for Hermione and showing her the card and the slip of parchment as well.
"Hmm…"After carefully reading every single word, Hermione sat down on Ron's bed, propping up her chin as she thought.
"Family, affection, making amends… that does line up with a godfather who's been missing for a long time. The black dog…"
"Don't jump to conclusions,"Ron tried to interrupt her. "Once Dumbledore gets back, we'll know the truth. What we should really be doing now is getting Harry on that Firebolt and having him fly a hundred laps around Hogwarts…"
"Wait, Ron."Hermione frowned in deep thought for a while longer before looking up, her eyes filled with a strange kind of shock—as if she'd frightened herself with her own idea. "Harry, do you remember the strange things Ron's dad said to you just before term started?"
"Let me think… I think he told me to promise not to go looking for Sirius Black?"
Harry tilted his head. "I still don't understand why Mr. Weasley said that to me—but what does that have to do with my godfather… wait. You don't mean—"
He and Ron snapped their heads around at the same time, staring at Hermione in disbelief.
"It's possible,"Hermione said softly after a moment of silence. "Age-wise, Sirius really is from the same generation as Harry's parents. And him being imprisoned explains why he never contacted Harry. As a member of the Black family, he'd certainly be rich enough to afford a Firebolt… and most importantly, you received a letter from an unknown godfather shortly after Sirius escaped, and Mr. Weasley's words clearly suggest that you and Black are connected somehow—a connection that might make you go looking for him!"
"He must be afraid that after growing up with hostile relatives, the moment you find out you still have family—a godfather—you'll go looking for him. And he's a notorious criminal!"
Hermione laid out her reasoning with conviction, even holding up the slip of parchment. "And look at the handwriting—doesn't it look like it was written by someone who hasn't touched a pen in years? That's another piece of evidence!"
"What are you thinking?"Ron shook his head. "Don't forget—Sirius Black is supposed to be Voldemort's most vicious follower, his most loyal servant, and the sworn enemy of Harry's parents! How could someone like that possibly be Harry's godfather? He probably wants Harry dead!"
"Maybe there's something we don't know…"
As Ron and Hermione once again fell into their familiar bickering, Harry suddenly felt an inexplicable sense of relief.
…
"One hundred and seventy-five Galleons and nine Sickles… let's round it down—one hundred and seventy-five Galleons."
"Thank you very much, Mr. Nathan Clarke!"
In front of an imposing villa, Avada—remotely controlling Nathan Clarke—counted the money while admiring the homeowner, who was spinning in place in delight after discovering that Apparition was completely impossible no matter what he tried.
"You're the youngest spatial magic expert I've ever seen. Your future is boundless… This is my card—please take it. Our family would be delighted to work with you again anytime!"
"Thank you for your appreciation. I hope we'll have the chance to meet again."
Only after walking half a mile away did Avada Apparate, returning to his room at the Leaky Cauldron with a heavy pouch of Galleons.
That makes two already… I'll try a few more. If I still don't get any useful information, I'll go investigate that Mr. Tyler directly.
(End of Chapter)