"Alright, the list should be clear now, right?"
Inside number twelve, Privet Drive, Lupin clapped his hands, "Textbooks, magic potions, magic wand care kit, also rember to replace Mr. Longbottom’s cauldron from last term that got burned... And of course, don’t forget." He ruffled Tom’s hair, "Get this little guy his wizard robe; I’ve sent Madam Malkin the asurents in advance, it should be correct."
"Don’t worry, Professor!"
Fred, lounging on the sofa, loudly chid in, exchanging a look with George, "Absolutely no mistake! Moreover, we’ve got a surprise waiting for you..." George quickly added, both rubbing their hands eagerly—this usually signaled so prank in the making.
But before anyone could say anything, the two vanished with a sound like a belt whipping through the air.
"...Looks like they passed the Apparition test?"
Harry stared wide-eyed, suddenly feeling a bit envious.
"Yes, this sumr—they even ’apparated’ to the bathroom,"
Ron nodded, exchanging a resigned glance with Ginny beside him. The two of them were the biggest victims after those guys learned Apparition—The Burrow was as bustling as fireworks from morning till night this sumr.
"Are we going this way too?"
In the corner of the sofa, Tom asked quietly, "But I don’t know that charm..." "If you did, that would be troubleso; the age to enroll in the Apparition course requires you to be at least seventeen this year—" Hermione swiftly explained to the boy, who nodded in a sowhat puzzled manner.
"We need to find another way—"
Harry felt like he was seeing himself from a few years ago, clueless about the magic realm—but actually, Harry’s feeling was entirely wrong; Tom, who had devoured most of ’Magic History: General Editor,’ couldn’t be completely clueless.
Yet Harry still kindly picked up the small iron box containing Floo powder on the mantelpiece.
Then he signaled Tom to watch, grabbing a handful of powder, finally clearly pronouncing, "Diagon Alley." He stepped into the fireplace, engulfed by the green flas.
So, everyone followed suit, this ti without any anxiety-induced mishaps, like soone being flung into Knockturn Alley; even Tom pronounced the destination clearly, though he choked on a mouthful of soot the next mont.
"Cough cough—"
Thus, as everyone stood by the communal fireplace at the Leaky Cauldron, dusting off ash from their clothes, a cheerful atmosphere enveloped them.
Even though today marked several months since the news of You-Know-Who’s ultimate death broke in the papers, the bar remained steeped in a jubilant vibe, colorful banners hanging from the ceiling, seemingly recycled and dyed from a decade ago.
Within sight, phrases like "Celebrating the 67th day of You-Know-Who’s demise" were everywhere; posters covered the walls, Voldemort’s black silhouette sprayed with a big red cross—
Multicolored balloons and strears floated from the ceiling, while a dozen somber-looking dwarfs ford a band, playing various instrunts on a stage set up in the bar center at so point. For so reason, William suddenly found these dwarfs familiar.
"These fellows... seem... Lockhart might have hired them for Valentine’s Day before?"
Hermione squinted, also noticing the dwarfs, the girl searched her mory and quickly found the answer from so distant corner.
"...How did you recognize them? Aren’t they identical?"
Harry asked, surprised, thinking that whoever founded the House-Elf Liberation Front was indeed remarkable; at least, Hermione wouldn’t mistake these creatures.
"Oh, I rember too!"
Ron nodded excitedly, "I recall Harry got a love letter then, how did it go..." He fell into reminiscing, clearly oblivious to the murderous aura emanating from behind, "His eyes are green like freshly pickled toad, his hair like a shiny blackboard... Oww!!"
Receiving a painful hit on the foot, Ron hopped around, clutching his shoe, crashing into a nearby table.
And his commotion soon attracted the attention of others in the bar.
"Look! It’s Harry Potter! And William Richard! It’s them, I’m not mistaken—they’re really there!"
"Shh! Keep your voice down!"
"rlin’s socks unwashed for three months! It’s the two Savior gentlen!!"
"Mr. Richard! Hey! Mr. Richard!"
A well-dressed young wizard excitedly shouted, maneuvering through the crowd to get closer, "William! Good afternoon, sir!" He nodded and bowed for a long ti towards William’s direction before finally turning to Harry, "And Mr. Potter! I’m Colin Carlton, a reporter for the Prophet Daily—could I take a bit of your ti? The public is eager to know how you ultimately defeated..."
"Are you a new reporter?"
Before he finished, William interrupted him, his tone gentle, his voice not loud, yet it made the man feel as if doused with cold water and quickly sober up.
"Ah... I’m an intern reporter..."
"Then use your brains a bit, sir, why hasn’t anyone among your ’well-connected’ seniors covered sothing from two months ago?"
William sighed, deciding to later have Mundungus manage his "troops" well—yes, the Prophet Daily had already been entirely acquired by his people at "Starry Sky," after nearly a year of squeezing profits out of this blue ocean using Magic TV, William had almost beco the biggest tycoon in the entire United Kingdom magic realm—
Moreover, he had already "recruited" many old-guard families (Pure-Blood Clans)—
"I don’t quite understand..."
The man seed still unwilling to give up.
"It ans to hurry up and get lost—"
Sirius kicked the man’s backside, the latter dared not speak a word upon seeing Sirius’s face, although the case had been cleared, Sirius had nonetheless been on the wanted list for half a year not long ago, known to the whole English magic realm, he could even stop a child from crying at night.
Ignoring the commotion in the Leaky Cauldron, they knocked open the brick wall and entered Diagon Alley, where the atmosphere was even more festive than in the bar—
Seeing this, Harry couldn’t help but begin to suspect that perhaps initially, these wizards were indeed celebrating the "tenth week of victory against Voldemort," but now carrying on with the revelry was just an excuse not to end the party.
Reviews
All reviews (0)