The room fell silent except for the sound of rain against the window and Crookshanks' gentle purring.
Hearing Ron mention Black's name so casually, Harry felt his heart sink. Anxiety settled heavily in his chest, making it difficult to breathe normally. Even his earlier joy at receiving the Firebolt was significantly dampened.
Yes, there was now a dangerous criminal lurking somewhere in the shadows of Britain, watching him. The realization sent an icy chill down his spine. He must remain vigilant at all times, never letting his guard down for even a moment.
"Wait just a minute!" Hermione suddenly interjected, her voice sharp with confusion and concern. She looked between Harry and Ron with wide, questioning eyes. "What criminal are you two talking about? How is it that I don't know anything about this?"
It seemed she hadn't been reading the recent editions of the Daily Prophet, probably too busy with her summer reading list to keep up with current events. Her parents likely subscribed to Muggle newspapers rather than wizarding publications, leaving her unaware of the magical world's most pressing news.
"Hold on just a moment," Ron said quickly, scrambling to his feet with urgency. He disappeared from the room down the narrow corridor.
Moments later, he returned slightly out of breath, clutching a newspaper clipping in his hand and handed it to Hermione. The clipping contained the story of Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban prison with his photograph.
Hermione's eyes moved rapidly across the text, her expression growing alarmed with each sentence. When she finally looked up, her face had gone pale, and her voice carried a note of disbelief that bordered on horror.
"You're telling me that this dangerous criminal who killed over a dozen people with a single curse might actually be planning to come to Hogwarts? To our school?"
"Although I only overheard fragments of the conversation," Ron said quickly, lowering his voice to a whisper, "you have to understand that my father works for the Ministry of Magic. His information is definitely reliable, and what I heard sounded very serious indeed."
"I simply can't believe this is happening," Hermione shook her head slowly. After a moment of stunned silence, she seemed to collect herself and said with forced optimism, "But Hogwarts has Professor Dumbledore protecting it. Surely Black won't have a chance of getting past the greatest wizard of our age."
"Exactly right," Ron agreed insistently, though his voice lacked complete conviction.
Harry remained silent during this conversation, his eyes fixed on his hands as they twisted nervously in his lap. He absolutely did not want to let Hermione and Ron know that Sirius Black was most likely coming specifically for him—that he was the target, not just a potential victim among many.
When the evening shadows had deepened but complete darkness hadn't yet fallen over London, Hermione reluctantly said her goodbyes.
Although spending the night in a magical place like the Leaky Cauldron would have been an incredibly cool experience for a Muggle-born witch, the Grangers seemed to have made their own plans for the evening.
Perhaps they wanted to spend her last night before school together as a family, knowing she'd be gone for months.
Harry was playing several distracted games of wizard's chess with Ron on the small table by the window. Although Ron usually won more often, today was especially so, Harry barely managed to win one small game out of seven. His mind kept wandering to thoughts of prison escapes, making it impossible.
Soon it was time for bed, and the Leaky Cauldron began to quiet down as its customers retired for the night.
Ron yawned hugely and stretched, his joints cracking as he rose from his chair. After wishing Harry a good night and promising to wake him if he had nightmares, Ron returned to his own room down the corridor, leaving Harry alone with his troubled thoughts.
Harry lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling where shadows danced in the flickering candlelight. The mattress was comfortable enough, but he found himself tossing and turning restlessly, unable to find a position that felt natural.
Without his friends' cheerful company and constant chatter, Harry felt somewhat empty and isolated. The silence of the room seemed to amplify his anxious thoughts, making them echo more loudly in his mind.
He glanced repeatedly at the Firebolt leaning against the wall beside his bed, its polished surface gleaming in the dim light, but even the sight of his dream broomstick couldn't improve his mood at all.
Night had always been the perfect time for wild, uncontrolled thoughts to flourish, and Harry was certainly no exception to this truth. In the darkness, worries seemed to multiply, like shadows that expanded when the light dimmed.
Tomorrow was the day he would finally return to Hogwarts, and the Weasley family had kindly offered to escort him to King's Cross Station along their route. But what if they encountered that dangerous criminal on the road between the Leaky Cauldron and Platform Nine and Three-Quarters?
What if Black was already watching them, waiting for the perfect moment to strike when they were most vulnerable?
Harry quickly shook his head violently, trying to dispel these terrible thoughts.
After another ten minutes of futile attempts at sleep, Harry slowly sat up from his bed. He really couldn't sleep, no matter how hard he tried. His mind was too active, too full of worries and what-if scenarios.
Honestly, this restlessness was quite strange and unusual for him, because his sleep quality had always been remarkably good throughout his life.
Even during his miserable years living in the cramped cupboard under the stairs at Privet Drive, surrounded by spiders and breathing musty air, he had somehow managed to sleep peacefully.
Physical discomfort had never been enough to keep him awake before.
After thinking for a moment about his options, Harry decided that perhaps a walk around the Leaky Cauldron might help calm his nerves.
It wasn't too late yet—he could still hear the murmur of conversation from the common room below and the occasional clink of glasses. Maybe eating something would help him feel more at ease and settled.
Harry slipped his feet into his shoes and quietly opened his door. The corridor outside his room was narrow and dimly lit, with only a single flickering lamp on the wall.
Just down the hall was the suite of rooms where the Weasley family was staying for the night. They had booked several connected rooms to accommodate their large family, plus a small sitting room where they could gather together.
Harry hesitated for a moment, then decided to see if Ron might be interested in joining him for a late-night snack. Knowing Ron's legendary appetite and his tendency to get hungry at all hours, he would definitely be willing to go down to the hall for food, regardless of the time.
But as Harry approached the door to the family's small sitting room, he couldn't help but stop in his tracks. The sound of voices drifted through the door—Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were inside, and they seemed to be having an intense discussion about something.
Harry knew instinctively that eavesdropping was wrong. But despite his moral reservations, he found himself unable to walk away.
Because Mr. Weasley seemed to have mentioned his name.
"...I still don't agree with your decision to tell Harry about Black and the danger he's in," Mrs. Weasley's voice came through the door. "He's far too young to bear such a burden, Arthur. You should think carefully about this—if Harry knew that Black's primary target was him personally, can you imagine how much psychological pressure that would place on a thirteen-year-old boy?"
Harry felt his heart sink even further as he quietly sighed. He already knew about this.
At that moment, Mr. Weasley's voice sounded again, calmer but equally determined, "I understand your concern, Molly, and I know it comes from a place of love. But someone will be protecting Harry at all times—multiple someones, in fact. Harry doesn't need to constantly worry about his safety, but he absolutely needs to know about this threat instead of being kept completely in the dark about danger to his own life.
Thirteen years old really isn't that young anymore. When I was thirteen, I certainly wouldn't have wanted the adults around me to hide such critically important matters from me."
"Ha! Thirteen years old," Mrs. Weasley's voice sounded somewhat angry. "Don't think I don't remember exactly what you were like when you were thirteen years old, Arthur Weasley. Back then, you thought you were invincible and ready to take on the world. You..."
"Ah, please don't say any more, dear," Mr. Weasley's voice seemed to weaken. "But I still maintain that Harry shouldn't know nothing about this situation, especially during such a critical and dangerous time. He should be more vigilant and aware of potential threats. Ignorance won't protect him—it will only make him more vulnerable."
Harry felt a growing sense of guilt about continuing to listen to this private conversation.
Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Harry raised his hand and knocked gently on the door. "Knock, knock."
The conversation inside stopped immediately, followed by a moment of surprised silence.
"Just a moment, we're coming," Mrs. Weasley's voice called out, though it sounded slightly strained.
Soon, the door opened with a soft creak of hinges, revealing Mrs. Weasley's concerned face.
"Oh, it's you, Harry dear," Mrs. Weasley said, her expression immediately brightening with genuine delight. "It's quite late for you to be wandering around. What brings you here at this hour?"
"I came to find Ron," Harry said simply, though he felt Mrs. Weasley's tone was slightly unnatural, as if she was trying too hard to sound casual.
"Of course, come in, come in," Mrs. Weasley welcomed Harry inside. "Ron went to his room just a few minutes ago, but he's definitely not asleep yet."
"Who's come to visit at this hour, dear?" Mr. Weasley's voice sounded from deeper in the room.
When Mr. Weasley's eyes fell on Harry, he was momentarily stunned.
"Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley," Harry said politely to both of them. After a moment's hesitation, he decided that honesty was the best policy. "I want you to know that I heard your conversation just now."
"You heard everything?" Mrs. Weasley looked shocked.
"Yes, I did," Harry nodded calmly, meeting both of their concerned gazes directly. Taking a deep breath, he continued in one breath, "I'm sorry for causing you both to worry about me, but I want you to know that I'm already aware of everything concerning Black and his escape from Azkaban. I know that his target is me. Professor Westeros told me everything several days ago."
Harry suddenly felt somewhat grateful.
If Adrian hadn't told him, he would probably still be completely in the dark.
That would have been truly terrible and potentially fatal.
As Mr. Weasley had said, he needed to know the truth in order to protect himself.
Upon hearing Harry's calm words, the Weasley couple exchanged a look.
"Merlin's beard!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, looking at Harry with deep maternal concern. "Oh, you poor dear child, you must be under tremendous pressure."
Harry shook his head with more confidence than he actually felt. "I'm fine, really,"
He did feel a lot of pressure, but he had friends with him, and these lovely people protecting and caring for him.
Harry suddenly felt at peace.
"You see, Molly," Mr. Weasley said gently, reaching over to pat Harry's shoulder. "Harry has grown up. He's remarkably calm and mature for his age. We really shouldn't have been trying to hide this from him, it would have been both futile and potentially dangerous. Adrian clearly thinks the same way, which is why he chose to tell Harry the truth."
Mrs. Weasley sighed deeply. "Adrian trusts this child far too much for my comfort, I still think all of this responsibility and danger is far too heavy a burden for any child to bear."
She moved closer to Harry and gently ruffled his hair. "Don't you worry about anything, dear child, on the journey to Hogwarts tomorrow, we'll all be there to protect you every step of the way. And once you reach the castle, you'll be completely safe. Professor Dumbledore and all the other professors at school will make sure no harm comes to you."
Harry sat on the sofa in the living room for a while, and Mrs. Weasley poured him a glass of water.
He had originally hoped for a cup of tea to help calm his nerves, but Mrs. Weasley had firmly refused. Tea, she explained, would only make his existing insomnia worse by adding caffeine to his already overactive mind.
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