18 | Pets, Creepy and All

Start from the beginning
                                    

I slid the sickle off the counter and gave it back to him, having half a mind to assume that it was the only money he had on him. "I do hope this isn't dangerous, you two." I placed three sickles on the counter as the two grinned to me.

My brow raised and they both mirrored the way they held up their hands. "We're not committing a crime!"

"Not technically."

I shook my head, failing to hide a grin. "So what'd you tell me for?"

"Well, you're pretty smart. I was thinking you could procure some remedies," George answered.

I gave him a dumbfounded stare. "You said it wasn't dangerous!"

"No one's going to die, if that's what you meant!"

"I meant no one's going to get hurt." I shook my head again. "So, remedies for what, exactly?"

"You know... bruises, large tongues, some transfiguring stuff-"

I turned to the lady at the counter, about to thank her for the sweets, then paused when I noticed the newspaper she was reading.

The date was from a bit ago, since it also mentioned the Weasleys going to Egypt, but I didn't really read the other headlines.

Sirius Black at Large.

"-some love potion reversal, something to collect swamps- Are you listening?"

"Yeah, you needed something to collect love potions and reverse swamps, yeah?" I slid another sickle across the counter and took a newspaper off the rack perched on the wall. They gathered around me, curious to see what I found so interesting.

Sirius Black, possibly the most infamous prisoner ever to be held in Azkaban fortress, is still eluding capture, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today.

"We are doing all we can to recapture Black," said the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, this morning, "and we beg the magical community to remain calm."

Fudge has been criticized by some members of the International Confederation of Wizards for informing the Muggle Prime Minister of the crisis.

"Well, really, I had to, don't you know," said an irritable Fudge. "Black is mad. He's a danger to anyone who crosses him, magic or Muggle. I have the Prime Minister's assurance that he will not breathe a word of Black's true identity to anyone. And let's face it — who'd believe him if he did?"

While Muggles have been told that Black is carrying a gun (a kind of metal wand that Muggles use to kill each other), the magical community lives in fear of a massacre like that of twelve years ago, when Black murdered thirteen people with a single curse.

"What's a gun?" Fred asked.

"It's a bit like a wand, but it shoots bullets and isn't magic." I made an odd shape with my hand, with my index and middle finger held up, and aimed it at the wall. "It's shaped a bit like that. It's not for a prank, though. It can kill someone."

The real thing can, anyway.

A pensive expression appeared on both their faces and I worried that they would find some way to turn the weapon into an instrument of chaos.

I didn't know much about Sirius Black, other than his role in killing Harry's parents and the massacre of Muggles, both events occurring years before.

I tilted my head, staring at the moving photo of him screaming at the camera. His gaze appeared absent, in a world where there was actually something to scream at.

My attention reverted back to the twins, who patiently waited for me to leave my headspace. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"Remedies. Could you help us out?"

I shrugged. "Probably."

"Brilliant!"

I followed them out and noticed Harry with Ron and Hermione. "Hey Harry," I greeted.

"Hey Y/N," he greeted in return. His green eyes darted around me and I said, "Draco's not here. He's in trouble for 'embarrassing the Malfoy name' at last year's Quidditch match."

Ron stifled a giggle.

"What's that?" Harry asked, pointing at the newspaper in my right hand.

"The Daily Prophet?"

"Yeah, I know that, it's just..."

I opened it, showing the photo of Sirius Black to him. "This?"

"Yeah, he..." I handed him the newspaper and he stared at it, almost longingly. "I saw someone else reading this headline."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Why are you saying sorry?" Harry gave back the newspaper, seeming to be genuinely nonplussed.

"It's just that Sirius Black-"

"Finished shopping?" Mrs. Weasley came over with a kind smile, although it didn't hide the clear secret she was trying to keep in her eyes.

I cleared my throat. "I finished shopping ages ago." I put the newspaper in my bag.

After flashing a smile to the family, I left.

•••

"Dad!" I called inside when I returned.

"In the library!"

I walked up one of the winding stairs that led upstairs and turned right, counting the multiple dark green doors until I reached the only one with a round handle.

"Hello Adventurer," he said, his eyes only leaving his book for a moment before returning to the ink covered pages.

I held out my hand and his owl, Borealis, eagerly perched on my forearm, likely bored out of his mind. This was probably the first time I father spoke in hours, as he returned to complete silence.

"Come on," I said to the barn owl. "Let's not bother dad while he reads."

I walked out of the room and down the stairs again towards the owls' play area, which resided within a room built from windows instead of walls.

He flew off my hand and onto one of the perches beside Dipper, who was my owl. I waved my hand and summoned Dipper over. "I need you to send these to Cedric," I said carefully while tying the bag of sweets to his talon.

He chirped and flew out the open window.

"Do you think I needed to emphasize that he shouldn't eat it?" I asked Borealis, who chirped in response. "Yeah, he'll be fine."

A Memorable TaleWhere stories live. Discover now