Chapter 340: Black Enigma
After lunch.
Out in Diagon Alley, Dudley, Harry and Ron ran into Hermione. Once the four of them were together, they started working through their shopping list.
For a while, the bustle and cheer of Diagon Alley blew away the shadow over their hearts. They stopped in front of the display for the latest and fastest racing broom, the Firebolt. There was no price listed on the tag; anyone interested would have to enquire inside.
That alone was enough to make Ron and Harry's hearts itch.
Both of them actually had a decent amount of money now. After Borgin and Burkes had finished selling off the Basilisk's corpse, each of them had received around ten thousand Galleons. For them, it was a fortune.
Even so, they managed to hold back.
Their Nimbus 2001s were still perfectly usable, and Hogwarts matches did not exactly require such a monster of a broom.
It did not stop them from squeezing up against the glass every time they passed to stare at it.
Their feelings about it were very different to before.
Once, they had known they could never afford a broom like that. All they could do was drool over it. Now, they could buy one if they chose. They simply did not see the need.
That change in mindset made them far more at ease. Ron, especially, felt a great deal of his old inferiority finally ease.
Hermione chose a pet in the Magical Menagerie: an orange cat called Crookshanks. It looked a bit like Dudley's own big ginger cat, except even uglier, as if it had once run headfirst into a wall and flattened its entire face.
She picked him precisely because nobody else wanted him.
They bought their books for the new year at Flourish and Blotts.
"Hermione, you are buying that many?" Ron gaped at her list.
"I signed up for rather a lot of electives," Hermione said with a small smile, tucking the parchment away.
"Do you even have time to attend them all?" Dudley asked, frowning.
Electives were technically unrestricted, but some classes overlapped in their timetables. There was no way to be in two places at once. Most students simply chose around the clashes.
Dudley only had to glance at Hermione's list to see several obvious conflicts.
"Do not worry. I will manage," Hermione said.
Seeing she would say no more, Dudley let it drop.
He was not planning to pick that many electives himself. At this point, some courses were almost meaningless for him. Rather than studying Muggles or rehashing magical history, he would be better served digging into real spellcraft and designing magic of his own.
"Oh, look who I have spotted," a familiar voice called suddenly.
They all turned.
There he was, with his trademark smile and gleaming white teeth, surrounded by a cluster of witch fans clamouring for autographs.
"Professor Lockhart," Hermione breathed, cheeks flushing.
"Ha ha, what a pleasant surprise, meeting you here of all places. Fate truly does work in marvellous ways," Gilderoy Lockhart said, striding over to them.
"Professor Lockhart," Harry and Ron said politely.
They might think he was a fraud, but he had been their teacher.
"Do not call me that. I am no longer your professor," Lockhart said, a brief flash of embarrassment crossing his face.
"What?" Hermione blurted.
"Ahem. I came to feel I am better suited to being an author than a teacher," Lockhart said with a smile.
"Is that so?" Dudley asked lightly.
Lockhart's eyes flickered away. He muttered something about being busy and hurried off.
"He must have been sacked! I would bet anything Professor Dumbledore finally realised what a fraud he is," Ron said with conviction.
"So who is teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts now?" Hermione asked, frowning.
"As long as it is not Snape, anyone will do," Harry said.
"Lockhart should count himself lucky. Everyone says that job is cursed. Nobody lasts long. Think about Quirrell..." Ron began, then trailed off and shot a quick glance at Dudley.
All of them could not help recalling that flash of green light.
Dudley's expression, however, did not change. It was as if he had filed that entire incident away as unimportant.
"In truth, once I had given him a good beating, Lockhart did not much want to teach any more," Dudley said, watching Lockhart's retreating back. "Managing to stick it out until the end of term was actually rather impressive."
"Er..." The other three stared at one another, lost for words.
They spent two very pleasant days in Diagon Alley.
Until the last evening of August.
"Harry, there is something I need to speak to you about," Mr Weasley said, catching him alone and gesturing for him to follow.
"Dudley and I—" Harry began, but Mr Weasley cut him off.
"It is about you. It does not concern Dudley," he said.
"All right," Harry said.
He did not argue and went out with Mr Weasley.
Dudley watched them go, thoughtful.
"The Ministry's behaviour really has been odd lately. Is it all tied to Harry?" he wondered.
A face rose in his mind: Sirius Black.
"One of Voldemort's followers cannot possibly be more dangerous than Voldemort himself," he murmured with a faint smile, shaking his head and pushing the thought away.
About ten minutes later, Harry returned, brows furrowed.
Dudley lazily traced a privacy charm to block any eavesdropping, then turned a probing look on him.
"Mr Weasley told me to be careful," Harry said gravely. "He says Black might be planning to kill me."
"Black wants to kill you?" Dudley raised an eyebrow.
"Yes. He said that when Black was still in Azkaban, he kept muttering, 'He is at Hogwarts.' They think he means to kill me so Voldemort can rise again," Harry said.
"Killing you is possible. But if that is his goal, trying to bring Voldemort back that way is idiotic. He would be better off going straight to Voldemort," Dudley said, shaking his head.
"That is what I thought," Harry said. "If Black is truly one of Voldemort's followers, why not find him first once he escapes? Why come after me instead? It does not add up."
"And Mr Weasley's attitude feels strange too," he added. "He kept telling me not to go looking for Black."
"But why would I ever go looking for a man who wants to kill me?"
"I am not an idiot," Harry said, scowling.
At that, Dudley frowned as well.
"If you put it that way, then my guess is this," he said slowly. "There must be some reason for you to seek out Black. You just do not know what that reason is yet."