Harry Potter: Westeros’s Plant Life 0252 Sean Jameson

"How was the Firebolt?" Harry asked while gently soothing Guru.

"Absolutely fantastic," Ron breathed, his eyes still sparkling with the lingering euphoria of flight. His face glowed with excitent as he relived those precious monts soaring through the air.

"More responsive than any broom I've ever ridden in my entire life. It was like the broom could read my thoughts before I even knew what I wanted to do."

His voice suddenly dropped to a lancholy whisper, the brightness fading from his expression like clouds passing over the sun. "Too bad I'm not on the Quidditch team. I'll probably never get another chance to fly sothing that magnificent."

"You should have more confidence in yourself, Ron," Harry said earnestly, reaching over to pat his friend's shoulder with warmth. "You flew brilliantly just now—truly spectacular for soone who hasn't had much practice with racing brooms. I dare say I wasn't much better than you the first ti I took the Firebolt out for a spin."

"Thanks, mate," Ron mumbled, his ears turning bright red.

Deep down, Ron knew he couldn't compare to Harry's natural talent. After all, Harry was Professor McGonagall's personally chosen Seeker, selected for his extraordinary flying abilities despite being only a first-year at the ti.

But perhaps next year, Ron thought with a flicker of hope warming his chest, he could muster the courage to try out for Gryffindor's Quidditch team. Maybe as a Chaser, or even a Beater like his older brothers Fred and George...

After carefully confirming through the classroom's dirty windows that Filch hadn't managed to track them down, Harry and Ron finally felt safe enough to venture out. They left the dusty empty classroom behind and walked side by side through the castle's corridors toward the warmth and comfort of Gryffindor Tower.

As they walked, Harry felt an odd sense that sothing was missing from this day. The feeling nagged at him, an itch he couldn't quite scratch.

As they rounded a corner where a particularly stern-looking portrait of a dieval knight watched them with disapproving eyes, Harry suddenly snapped his fingers as realization struck him like lightning. "We haven't seen Hermione all day. Where do you suppose she is?"

"Where do you think she'd be?" Ron shrugged with weary resignation. "Probably buried nose-deep in so dusty to in the library again, losing track of ti like she always does.

I invited her to co watch the Firebolt demonstration this morning, but she said she wasn't interested—completely incomprehensible, don't you think? How could anyone with functioning brain cells not be interested in seeing a genuine Firebolt in action?"

Harry nodded in keen agreent, genuinely baffled by Hermione's apparent indifference to what was clearly one of the most magnificent pieces of magical thing ever created.

Anyone truly uninterested in a Firebolt was obviously abnormal. It was like being uninterested in magic itself.

Just then, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed from sowhere in the distance, growing steadily louder as they approached.

Both boys imdiately froze like startled deer, every muscle tensing as they held their breath and strained their ears. Harry even hastily concealed the Firebolt behind his back—though given the broom's considerable length, the gesture was rather pointless and probably made him look more suspicious rather than less.

However, when the source of the footsteps finally ca into view around the distant corner, they both exhaled in relief.

It wasn't the dreaded Filch with his bulging, mad eyes and ever-present threats of detention. Instead, it was a balding middle-aged man in deep blue robes that marked him as a mber of the Auror Corps.

By remarkable coincidence, it was the exact sa Auror they had ambushed with snowballs at the very beginning of the Christmas holiday.

"Good morning, sir," Harry greeted politely.

However, the man didn't even acknowledge Harry's existence, walking past them with the cold indifference of soone who had far more important matters occupying his mind.

Harry and Ron exchanged confused glances.

"That was strange," Ron observed quietly once the Auror had disappeared around another corner. "He doesn't seem to be in a particularly good mood, does he? Usually the Aurors at least nod when students greet them politely."

"Now that you ntion it, he didn't appear at yesterday's Christmas feast either," Harry said.

Hearing this observation, Ron shrugged with nonchalance and said dismissively, "He's probably involved in so sort of top-secret mission that requires him to maintain a low profile. Aurors deal with that sort of thing all the ti, you know—hunting down dark wizards, investigating mysterious disappearances, tracking dangerous magical creatures."

'Secret mission, eh?' Harry muttered under his breath, his mind already beginning to work through the possibilities.

Then, like a bolt of inspiration striking him directly between the eyes, he had a sudden flash of brilliance that made his pulse quicken with excitent.

"Let's follow him," he whispered urgently, lowering his voice while keeping his bright green eyes fixed intently on the Auror's rapidly retreating figure.

Ron's eyes widened like about to pop completely out of his skull. "Are you completely insane? Following a trained Auror who's probably ard with enough hexes to turn us both into smoking craters? Have you forgotten what happened the last ti we decided to investigate sothing suspicious?"

"I think he's acting genuinely strange," Harry explained quickly, his words tumbling over each other in his eagerness to convince his reluctant friend.

"Missing important social events like the feast, moving around with such obvious urgency, looking like he's trying to avoid being noticed, and..."

He paused, struggling to articulate the nagging feeling that had been growing stronger with each passing mont. "I can't quite put my finger on it, but sothing about him just feels wrong."

The sensation was like trying to rember a word that stayed stubbornly on the tip of his tongue, or noticing that a familiar painting had been hung slightly crooked.

In any case, Harry felt with so certainty that there was sothing inexplicably and deeply off about this particular Auror.

Ron hesitated for a mon. Finally, he threw up his hands in defeat and gave in with a dramatic sigh. "Fine, but if we're caught red-handed and end up getting expelled or worse, we'll claim we got hopelessly lost looking for the bathroom and were just following soone who might be able to give us directions."

The two boys began their pursuit, moving as quietly as possible while maintaining what they hoped was a safe distance. They ducked behind convenient suits of armor when necessary, pressed themselves against walls when the corridor offered no other concealnt, and tried to keep their footsteps light on the stone floors.

The middle-aged Auror walked swiftly through the twisting passages of the castle. Then, without any warning at all, he suddenly stopped dead in the middle of a long corridor.

Harry and Ron imdiately dove for cover behind the nearest suit of armor.

However, the middle-aged Auror didn't seem to have noticed their amateur surveillance efforts. Instead, he simply reached into the inner pocket of his official robes and pulled out a folded piece of parchnt. He unfolded it carefully and studied its contents with intense concentration.

"What do you think he's doing?" Ron whispered.

Harry shook his head, indicating his complete bewildernt.

Before they could react, the Auror pocketed the parchnt and sprinted away, disappearing around the corridor's end.

Harry and Ron erged cautiously from behind their hiding place, looking at each other with expressions of complete and utter confusion.

"What in rlin's na was he running from?" Ron asked, scratching his ssy red hair. "Or running to, for that matter? And what was on that parchnt that made him take off like his robes were on fire?"

Harry was equally puzzled by what they had witnessed, but the ominous feeling in his gut had grown stronger rather than weaker.

Sothing was definitely wrong here, and he had the uncomfortable sensation that whatever was happening might be far more serious than a simple case of Auror business.

anwhile, in a completely different part of the castle, Adrian sat in his office. Stacks of graded essays created small fortresses on his desk, while magical textbooks lay open to various pages featuring detailed illustrations of exotic creatures.

He was deep in troubled contemplation about the content for next term's Care of Magical Creatures classes, a problem that had been occupying his thoughts for several days now.

The challenge of finding creatures that would be both educational and appropriately safe for his students was proving more difficult than he had initially anticipated.

Fire salamanders seed like a reasonable option—they were fascinating magical creatures with interesting properties, but perhaps too mundane for students who had already been exposed to far more exotic beings.

On the other hand, many of the more spectacular magical creatures he genuinely wanted to show his students, creatures that would spark wonder and genuine educational curiosity seed more than a bit too dangerous for a classroom setting.

Hungarian Horntails were obviously out of the question, as were Acromantulas, and pretty much anything else that could potentially maim or devour his pupils.

As he wrestled with this familiar educational dilemma, the Devil's Snare gently tapped his shoulder with one of its vine and handed him a clock.

"Oh, is it lunch ti already? How ti flies when you're planning curricula," Adrian said with genuine gratitude, glancing at the clock face with so surprise. "Thank you for reminding , my friend. I get so absorbed in my work that I'd probably forget to eat completely without your help."

Adrian stood up from his chair, stretching muscles that had grown stiff from sitting in the sa position for too long.

These past few days' als had been particularly spectacular events worth anticipating. With most of the students gone ho for the holidays and relatively little else to occupy their considerable talents, the house-elves had been putting extraordinary thought and creativity into every single dish they prepared.

Each al had beco a masterpiece of culinary artistry, featuring elaborate presentations and flavor combinations that would have made professional chefs weep with envy.

On his leisurely way to the Great Hall, looking forward to whatever delights awaited him, Adrian encountered soone approaching from the opposite direction who seed vaguely familiar.

"Hello there, Mr. Jason," Adrian called out cheerfully, raising his hand in a friendly wave as the man drew closer. "Are you heading to the Great Hall as well? I can personally vouch that Hogwarts' food is quite exceptional, especially during the holidays when the house-elves really have a chance to show off their skills."

Yes, now he rembered clearly—the person he had encountered was Sean Jason, one of the Aurors assigned to patrol the castle grounds during this period. They had t briefly during a Hogsade weekend earlier in the term with Tonks and Remus.

However, sothing struck Adrian as particularly odd about this encounter. Jason's face was sowhat flushed, as if he had been engaging in vigorous physical exercise.

"No need for that, but thank you for the offer," Jason replied curtly. He gave Adrian the most perfunctory of nods, then brushed past him with obvious haste and continued hurrying down the corridor as if he were late for an extrely important appointnt.

Adrian remained standing in the middle of the corridor, watching Jason's leaving figure with growing unease. Sothing about the entire encounter had felt wrong.

Just as Jason's hurrying figure was about to disappear completely around the distant corner—

"Wait just a mont!" Adrian called out sharply.

Adrian's eyes narrowed as the pieces of a puzzle suddenly clicked into place. He finally understood what had been bothering him about this encounter!

Tonks had specifically ntioned that Jason would definitely be going ho during the Christmas holiday to spend ti with his young children.

That ant he absolutely could not possibly be at Hogwarts right now, patrolling the corridors and declining invitations to lunch!

The identity of this supposed "Jason" was not just suspicious—it was completely impossible.

Realizing this discovery, Adrian imdiately abandoned all pretense of casual conversation and quickened his pace in pursuit. His hand moved smoothly and instinctively to his wand as it slid quietly into his grasp.

At precisely that mont, the false Jason seed to sense that his deception had been discovered. So sixth sense or peripheral vision must have warned him of Adrian's sudden change in deanor, because he imdiately broke into a desperate run.

Adrian took the steps two at a ti, his longer stride allowing him to rapidly close the distance between them. His wand was now fully drawn and ready for whatever confrontation awaited. "Stop right there!"

Jason spun around abruptly, panic flashing across his face. He also drew his wand and aid it at Adrian. "What do you want? Whoever you are, pointing a wand at a serving Auror isn't exactly what anyone would call a wise life choice."

The threatening words might have been more intimidating if his voice hadn't been shaking.

In this mont of peak tension, with both n facing each other with drawn wands in the narrow castle corridor, the window beside them suddenly exploded. Glass shards flew everywhere like glittering confetti.

Ray swooped in through the broken window with claws aid directly at Jason. Before Jason could react, Ray pinned him to the ground with shocking speed, its sharp beak re inches from his throat.

Jason let out a terrified scream, his wand clattering to the floor.

"Excellent work, Ray," Adrian said as he stepped forward quickly, keeping his own wand steadily on the helpless figure pinned beneath. "But don't hurt him—"

After ensuring that his captured prey was completely helpless and posed no further threat, Ray gracefully stepped off the impostor and moved to gently nuzzle Adrian's shoulder with his head.

"So then," Adrian asked calmly, "who are you really?"

Though he already had his suspicions, the situation still required going through the proper procedure.

"I'm a mber of the Ministry's Auror Office! You're committing assault against a serving law enforcent officer! This is completely illegal!"

The man struggled to stand but froze in place when Ray let out a sharp screech.

Seeing this, Adrian couldn't help but chuckle with amusent.

This fake Jason was still putting up resistance.

________________

You can read more chapters on:

/IamLuis