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Chapter 584: Harry’s Protective Spell
🕑 Added 2025-03-06 12:20:45 +0000 UTCThe day after the end-of-year banquet marked the official start of the holidays at Hogwarts. Kyle and the others made their way to the platform to board the train back home.
Perched on Kyle’s shoulder was Ratton, the ever-intimidating owl, behaving as if he owned the platform. Ratton stared down every passing owl, causing a cascade of chaos. Wherever Kyle passed, owls screeched and flailed in their cages, their feathers flying.
Even Cho’s owl wasn’t spared.
“Hey, Kyle, can’t you do something about him?” Cho said, trying to soothe her distressed owl. “Saya’s been startled three times already!”
“Sorry about that,” Kyle said with an apologetic shrug. “Ratton doesn’t like being in a cage.”
At that moment, Ratton spread his massive wings and flew off toward the train, sparing the platform from further turmoil.
This year, the group chose a regular compartment instead of the more comfortable and spacious Prefect’s carriage. They had opted to stay together to keep an eye on certain mischievous members of their group.
As soon as they sat down, Cedric stretched out with an exaggerated groan. “Oh... these seats are so hard.”
Fred and George’s faces darkened immediately. They knew exactly what Cedric meant.
“My deepest apologies,” Fred drawled sarcastically, “that we weren’t made Prefects, forcing you to endure this unspeakable hardship in the regular compartment.”
“If it helps,” George said smoothly, removing his robe and folding it neatly, “you can sit on this. It’s not velvet, but it’s better than nothing.”
Cedric gave him a sly smile. “I think you’ve misunderstood me. I was just commenting on the Hogwarts Express’s facilities, nothing more."
“Of course,” he added, gesturing toward the robe, “if there’s not a Biting Ball hidden in there, I might take you up on the offer.”
George’s smirk faltered. Cedric had caught him red-handed. Tucked inside the robe was one of Zonko’s classic joke items—a harmless-looking cushion that would transform into a sharp-toothed ball when sat on.
“Tsk...” George shrugged, retrieving his robe. “You’ve gotten sharp, Cedric. You weren’t this quick before.”
“Don’t take it personally,” Cedric replied, raising an eyebrow. “If I weren’t a Prefect, I’m sure you’d have had something equally charming to say about that, too.”
“We absolutely wouldn’t,” George said solemnly.
“Because we would’ve started teasing you the moment we left the castle,” Fred added with a grin.
The banter continued until the train gave a long whistle and began to move, chugging its way toward King’s Cross Station.
Outside the window, the weather was a stark contrast to the rainy, gloomy skies that had greeted them at the start of term. Bright sunshine poured through, filling the compartment with a cozy warmth. It was a pattern that repeated itself year after year: cloudy beginnings, sunny farewells.
As the train rolled through the countryside, their conversation inevitably returned to the previous night’s dramatic announcement by Dumbledore at the feast.
The repercussions of his speech were still echoing through the train. Even in their compartment, they could faintly hear snippets of conversation from passing students: “Dumbledore... madman...” and similar remarks drifted through the air.
It was clear that many students—and perhaps their families—dismissed Dumbledore’s warning as the ramblings of a confused old man.
“Do you think the headmaster ever imagined things would turn out like this?” Fred asked, leaning back in his seat. “It seems like not many people chose to believe him.”
“I think he expected it,” Kyle replied thoughtfully. “But getting everyone to believe him isn’t the point—that’s not realistic. What he wants is for people to be prepared, so when the day comes, they don’t panic and lose their heads.”
“Maybe,” George said with a shrug, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced.
The group speculated about what measures Dumbledore might take over the holidays to counter Voldemort’s resurgence. As the morning wore on and the train neared midday, the corridors grew increasingly crowded.
The Gryffindor-Slytherin feud had not died down; in fact, it continued to flare up even now. From their compartment, Kyle and the others could hear occasional bursts of arguments in the corridors. This time, the clashes drew students from other houses as well, as the topic inevitably shifted to Dumbledore.
Many Slytherins loudly ridiculed Dumbledore, mocking him as a madman. Their jeers sparked anger among other students, leading to heated disputes that escalated into full-blown quarrels.
Prefects, including Cedric, had to abandon their compartments to try to maintain order in the corridors. Meanwhile, Fred and George kept themselves occupied by pestering Harry with questions about the Death Eaters from the night of Voldemort’s return.
The rest of the journey was uneventful. The train chugged steadily southward, the landscape outside changing as they traveled. The rolling hills and dense forests gradually gave way to open fields and scattered villages—a sure sign that they were nearing King’s Cross Station.
By this time, Kyle and the others returned to their compartment, where Fred, George, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were gathered, engrossed in a game of Exploding Snap.
As Kyle entered, one of Harry’s cards exploded in his hand, leaving his hair standing on end and a puff of smoke rising from his head.
Harry scratched his head sheepishly and stood up. “Kyle, I was just looking for you.”
“What’s up?” Kyle asked, expecting Harry to bring up the events of that fateful night. Instead, Harry surprised him by saying another name.
“Sirius. Do you know where his family lives?” Harry asked. “I remember him mentioning it to me, and I think you’ve been there before.”
“I have,” Kyle confirmed, raising an eyebrow. “Strange—he didn’t tell you?”
“Last term, he mentioned he was going to pick me up,” Harry explained, sighing. “It was all settled. I was supposed to stay with him during the holidays this year. But just yesterday, when I asked him for his address, he suddenly changed his mind!”
“Changed his mind? That doesn’t sound like him…” Kyle was taken aback. Sirius had been eager for Harry to stay with him, even going so far as to arrange post-graduation plans. It was unlike him to backtrack.
“It’s true,” Harry said in a low voice. “He told me this year is too dangerous and insisted I stay with the Dursleys. But he also said before that even if Voldemort came, he could guarantee my safety!”
Kyle snorted. “That’s just Sirius bragging. If Voldemort actually showed up, the best Sirius could do would be to buy you time to escape.”
Harry gave a reluctant nod. “So… I was thinking of going to find him myself.”
Kyle studied him for a moment. “I think Sirius probably has something important to do,” he said, recalling Sirius’s unexplained disappearance just before the holidays.
He had a suspicion that Sirius was involved in some mission for Dumbledore, one that required him to be away during the summer. Under those circumstances, Sirius likely thought Harry would be safer at the Dursleys’ house.
Because Lily Evans's protective spell remained active, its effectiveness depended on Harry living with his only blood relatives, the Dursleys.
