Sirius Black tucked away his wand, shooting a suspicious glance at Harry, then at Douglas Holmes. Something about this whole exchange felt off to him.
Harry pressed on, "Cousin, before I master Occlumency, how can I keep Professor Snape from using Legilimency on me?"
SLAM!
Sirius brought his hand down on the table with a bang, his voice thunderous, "He wouldn't dare!"
Douglas cleared his throat, tone mild. "It's quite simple, really—just avoid making eye contact. Legilimency depends heavily on direct eye contact. So, whatever happens, don't let Professor Snape catch your gaze. Don't let him look into your eyes…"
"Eye contact… his eyes…" A memory flickered through Harry's mind: all those times Snape's gaze had lingered strangely on him. Had Snape been using Legilimency all along?
Meanwhile, in another corridor, Harry's friends were waiting anxiously.
George and Fred speculated, "Think Harry's been kept behind to write lines?" "Maybe he traded our reward for his freedom?"
Ron snorted, sounding sure of himself. "He's probably getting one of Professor Holmes's grand lectures right now. You know how he is with that stuff."
"But Peter got away in the end," someone said. "Are we still getting a reward?"
Hermione shook her head slowly, "We should. Our job was to investigate the truth about Black. Finding Peter was just a bonus…"
She felt a little embarrassed admitting it. Honestly, it was more Professor Holmes guiding them than their own detective work.
A Hufflepuff piped up, "Does anyone else smell hotpot? Maybe Harry's having dinner with the professor."
"Maybe the reward's a feast," someone else mused. "Professor Holmes is a real expert when it comes to food."
As everyone voiced their theories, a cold, cutting voice rang out:
"Congregating in the corridor without permission. Ten points from each of your houses."
A moment later, the sound of gems cascading through the House Point Hourglasses echoed from the Great Hall.
Everyone turned to glare at Professor Snape, who had appeared out of nowhere.
Snape surveyed the group—students bristling with anger but too afraid to speak up—and gave a contemptuous sneer.
"Can't even catch a single rat. I really don't know what Holmes is teaching you—a pack of useless fools. Or do you all fancy yourselves heroes, just because you follow that arrogant little savior?"
He gave a low, chilling laugh. "Good thing there aren't any Slytherins here. If there were, I'd make each of them catch a hundred rats and gut them on the spot… What are you staring at? Keep it up, and I'll dock fifty points each."
The instant Snape finished, the students scattered, bolting in every direction.
It had been a humiliating day—first snubbed by Peter, who only spoke to Harry, then shooed away by Aurors, then by Professor Holmes, and now by Snape.
As Neville and a few Gryffindors rounded the farthest corner on the third floor, Neville suddenly stopped and gasped, "Oh no!"
Everyone froze, wands at the ready.
Neville scratched his head, "I think there were more Gryffindors than anyone else in that group, so…"
Realization dawned on the others, and a chorus of groans followed.
"Let's hope Professor McGonagall doesn't throw us out of Gryffindor…"
Defence Against the Dark Arts Office
As the meal wound down, Harry suddenly remembered his friends were still waiting for him.
He stood to leave, but turned to Sirius with a hopeful glint in his eye, "Sirius, can I invite you to tour Hogwarts with me tomorrow? I'm sure everyone would love to meet you."
Sirius immediately caught on to Harry's intent. His eyes grew misty, but he managed a smile, "Of course!"
Douglas cleared his throat, "Ahem!"
Sirius instantly remembered the troublesome contract. He quickly added, "I'll have to think about it. You know, I'm not staff here—I can't just wander the castle without an official invitation."
He winked at Harry, then nodded toward Douglas.
Harry got the hint, turned to his cousin, "Cousin, I'd really like to show Sirius around Hogwarts tomorrow. Could you help?"
Douglas shrugged, feigning helplessness, "I'm afraid I can't. Only the Headmaster can issue such invitations… But you could organize an award ceremony in the classroom. As president of the Detective Society, you could invite Sirius as your special guest—have him give a speech, since he was the focus of your investigation."
He turned to Sirius, his tone suddenly stern, "Sirius, tomorrow you're not to appear anywhere but the office and the classroom."
Sirius glanced at Harry's pleading face, then reluctantly patted the new wand in his sleeve and nodded his agreement.
Harry, delighted, quickly invited Lupin and Douglas as well.
Lupin agreed at once, clearly pleased.
Douglas, however, had no interest in giving up his holiday to preside over a student meeting, and politely declined.
Just as Harry was about to leave, he pulled Sirius aside, away from Douglas, and whispered, "Sirius, do you know about the Marauder's Map? I saw the name 'Padfoot' on it. Did you and my cousin make it together?"
Sirius glanced at Douglas, who was sipping tea with Lupin, then grinned and whispered back, "There are two Marauder's Map creators in this room—but Douglas isn't one of them.
'Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers, are proud to present the Marauder's Map.' That was a little project from our school days…"
Harry's eyes went wide. "You all? Right—four codenames, four people in the photo. So the map wasn't passed down from my cousin—it was made by my father, you, Professor Lupin, and… that rat."
Sirius frowned, "Passed down? What do you mean?"
Harry forced a smile, "No one. You're Padfoot—what was my father's codename?"
Sirius didn't press further, but explained, "Your father was Prongs. Remus is Moony. And then there's… well, you get the idea. I suppose you can guess how we chose our names?"
Harry thought for a second, then blurted out, "Animagi?"
Sirius ruffled Harry's hair, beaming with pride, "Clever boy."
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