Mr. Weasley spoke to the Daily Prophet with boundless enthusiasm:
"We intend to use the gold for a sumr holiday in Egypt. Our eldest son, Bill,
is currently working as a Curse-Breaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank there."
The Weasley family was set to spend a month in Egypt, returning just in ti for
the start of the new Hogwarts school year. Five of the Weasley children were
currently enrolled at the school.
Sean glanced at the moving photograph. He saw all nine mbers of the Weasley
family standing before a colossal pyramid, waving their hands frantically. A
smile tugged at the corners of his lips. There was the stout Mrs. Weasley, the
tall, balding Mr. Weasley, and their six sons and one daughter—all with that
unmistakable shock of flaming red hair. In the very center stood the tall,
gangly Ron, with his pet rat, Scabbers, perched on his shoulder and one arm
draped around his sister, Ginny.
Sean knew the ti had finally co.
He didn't return imdiately to his magical research. Instead, he made his way
down to the dungeons. He t with no resistance; Professor Snape granted his
request for leave without much fuss.
"Though these are all ultimately useless activities, you've prepared..."
Professor Snape said coldly from the shadows, his voice trailing off as he
stared at Sean.
"I beg your pardon, Professor?" Sean asked, confused.
"Hmph." With a sharp flick of his robes, Snape turned away, and the dungeon door
slamd shut.
Sean stood there, completely baffled, until Professor McGonagall ca hurrying
down the stairs.
"Are you ready? Ti is running short, child. Marcus and the others want to host
the event at the McGonagall Estate. I expect their letter will arrive
montarily." Professor McGonagall looked at Sean, then quickly averted her
eyes, looking rather flustered.
"Hosting what, Professor?" Sean asked.
"Preparing for—oh, are you leaving now?" She noticed the permission slip in his
hand and offered a warm smile. "Co then, I shall walk out with you."
Up until the mont he left Hogwarts, Sean remained in a state of utter
confusion. Professor McGonagall, however, seed to be in excellent spirits. She
held a long, scrolling parchnt—the last ti Sean had seen a list that long
was during the Christmas preparations—and she was checking off items with
nervous energy.
Because the Professor was constantly busy adding notes to her list, Sean didn't
feel it was right to disturb her. He set his curiosity aside; he would have
plenty of ti to solve that mystery later.
Right now, a more pressing matter required his attention: he needed to get to
Privet Drive. In the original tiline, Harry would be leaving Privet Drive
soon—or perhaps he wouldn't this ti? According to what Sean knew, Harry's
relationship with his aunt and uncle had improved considerably.
But Sean was certain of one thing: at this very junction, the man he had been
waiting for—Sirius Black—would arrive. Harry would encounter Sirius at least
once, shortly after his birthday. As for exactly when Sirius would break out of
prison, Sean didn't know the specific day. He needed to make preparations at
Privet Drive in advance so he could know the mont Sirius appeared.
July was drawing to a close. At Number Four, Privet Drive, Harry was currently
occupied with a special task. After receiving help from his friends, he was no
longer forced to endure life in the cupboard under the stairs. He now slept in a
spacious bedroom; Uncle Vernon no longer barked at him in fits of rage, and
Dudley was always wide-eyed and trembling whenever they crossed paths.
Aunt Petunia had remained remarkably silent for a long ti. Harry found it
strange that her attitude was the only thing that hadn't changed much—she still
despised magic, but lately, her gaze had grown complicated. She looked at Harry
with an expression he couldn't decipher. In the past, he saw only resentnt,
but now there were unreadable layers to her silence.
That afternoon, Harry clutched an envelope, thinking of his tasks.
[Dear Harry: You wouldn't believe it, Egypt is amazing. Bill took us to see all
the ancient tombs; you wouldn't believe the spells the Ancient Egyptian
sorcerers laid on them. Mum wouldn't let Ginny go into the last one. It was
filled with all these mutated skeletons belonging to Muggles who had broken
in—so of them had grown extra heads and things. I still can't believe Dad
won the Daily Prophet Grand Prize. Seven hundred Galleons! Most of it's gone on
this trip, but they're going to buy new robes for the new term.]
Harry rembered Ron's old, frayed robes and smiled.
[We'll be back a week before term starts to buy my new robes and our books. Is
there any hope of seeing you there? I heard those Muggles aren't giving you a
hard ti anymore. P.S. Percy's been made Head Boy. He got the letter last
week.]
Harry looked at the photo again. Percy, in his seventh year, looked particularly
pompous. He wore a fez atop his neat hair, with his Head Boy badge pinned to it,
his horn-rimd glasses glinting in the Egyptian sun.
Harry smiled and opened the other letter:
[Dear Mr. Potter, Please note that the new school year begins on September
first. The Hogwarts Express will depart from Platform nine and three-quarters at
eleven o'clock. Third-year students are permitted to visit Hogsade village on
certain weekends. Please give the enclosed permission form to your parent or
guardian to sign. A list of next year's books is also enclosed. Yours sincerely,
Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress.]
He stared at the letter. This was his mission. He had to get to Hogsade. But
first, he had to navigate Aunt Petunia's requirents.
"Harry, your birthday is coming up," Aunt Petunia had said yesterday. She spoke
with a slow, hesitant air, her face full of unnatural strain. Harry was
surprised; he thought she'd never rember it.
"Are you going to celebrate it? Invite your friends," Petunia said.
Harry realized instantly that they wanted to see Mr. Finch-Fletchley and Mr.
Green. It wasn't hard to understand; they had secured massive business projects
through Harry's friends! The money they had earned was enough to replace their
current house entirely. Harry hadn't realized that once they had money, they
would actually be willing to renovate a large room for him. He felt as though
sothing long buried under years of resentnt was finally surfacing.
"I... I can?" Harry asked carefully.
"Of course." Aunt Petunia lowered her head. She had looked like this more and
more often lately. "That place you ntioned... Hogsade..."
"Will you sign the form?" Harry was incredibly tense.
"I have only one condition. Vernon's sister, Marge, is coming. You must not show
a hint of your magic, and you must treat her with respect." Aunt Petunia and
Uncle Vernon always valued appearances above all else.
Harry nodded.
"Of course... and we will make sure she is more polite to you as well," Aunt
Petunia added suddenly.
This was sothing Harry hadn't expected. As she left the room, Aunt Petunia
lingered at the door. She suddenly whispered through the crack:
"That Hogsade place... those people... those locations... you... you must be
careful."
By the ti Harry looked toward the door in confusion, Aunt Petunia had already scurried downstairs.
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