At dinner, Jon saw Hannah again, but the bag of dog food she'd been carrying was gone.
"I ran into a huge black dog—really vicious!" Hannah pouted as she complained. "I was even nice enough to bring it some dog biscuits, but it snatched the whole bag from me and nearly bit my hand!"
"Are you alright?" Jon quickly asked, offering a few words of comfort, though he secretly felt relieved.
Feeding Sirius Black dog food hadn't been a random idea.
As a top-ranked fugitive hiding in a wizarding village like Hogsmeade, Black would almost certainly have stayed in his Animagus form the entire time. If he showed his human face, the Dementors would spot him immediately. But dogs naturally have short intestines and poor digestion—especially a stray that eats irregularly. Dog food, packed with trace nutrients and easy for dogs to digest, was without question the safest thing for him to eat.
Jon's real aim was to make sure Sirius Black could eat properly and stay healthy.
Otherwise, if Black got desperate and ate something like a dead rat, ended up with gastroenteritis, and died—Jon would be left completely at a loss!
...
A few days later, the eve of Halloween arrived.
Jon went to the Great Hall with the rest of Hufflepuff.
The hall was strung with hundreds of jack-o'-lanterns, flocks of fluttering bats, and bright orange flame-spitting streamers drifting under the enchanted ceiling. The feast was, as always, lavish, and everyone ate until they were stuffed.
The evening ended with entertainment provided by the Hogwarts ghosts. One by one, they emerged suddenly from walls and tables, gliding in formation. Gryffindor's ghost, Nearly Headless Nick, even recreated the gruesome moment of his botched beheading.
When the silver blood sprayed through the air, many people had to look away.
Back in the Hufflepuff common room, a sleepy-looking Zacharias Smith shuffled over.
"Saturday… match… Hufflepuff versus Gryffindor…" he yawned. "Remember to cheer for me—I might get to play…"
"I know!" Jon grinned. "If Cedric gets injured, you're in!"
"Exactly. You know… there's a good chance of that," Zacharias said with complete seriousness.
Jon couldn't help thinking it was a shame Zacharias wasn't in Gryffindor—he'd have had plenty of opportunities to play as their reserve Seeker.
Just as Jon was about to head to his room, a ghost floated in.
"Friar?" someone called in surprise.
The Fat Friar, though Hufflepuff's ghost, rarely came into the common room.
"All students, to the Great Hall!" For the first time, Jon saw seriousness and urgency on the Fat Friar's usually kind face. "That's Professor Dumbledore's order."
"What's happened, Friar?" Cedric Diggory, the prefect, asked.
"Sirius Black has been spotted in the school!" the Fat Friar said gravely. "He tried to break into the Gryffindor common room and destroyed the Fat Lady's portrait… Professor Dumbledore suspects Black is still on the grounds. Teachers and ghosts are going to search every corner. Everyone must go to the Great Hall, where the staff can protect you."
"What?" Moments ago, the Hufflepuff students had been laughing and chatting; now, fear spread across their faces.
Fortunately, Professor Sprout arrived promptly, her voice sharp: "Everyone out—head for the Great Hall. Prefects in front. Mr. Filch will be waiting at the basement entrance!"
...
The students filed out of the Hufflepuff common room.
"Don't panic!" Cedric called to the younger students at the front. "With the teachers guarding us, Black won't dare attack!"
Jon walked alongside a group of second- and third-years.
"How did Black pull this off?" Zacharias whispered in disbelief. "First he escapes Azkaban, and now he's gotten into Hogwarts!"
"Maybe You-Know-Who taught him some powerful dark magic!" Ernie Macmillan said with conviction. "After all, Black used to be You-Know-Who's right-hand man!"
"Or maybe… he turned into something else to sneak in?" Hannah Abbott suggested quietly.
"Don't be silly, Hannah," Ernie said confidently. "The entrances to Hogwarts are protected by strong wards. Ordinary Transfiguration couldn't fool them… Only powerful dark magic could…"
...
Jon listened quietly to their guesses.
In truth, Hannah was right. As an Animagus who knew every secret passage in Hogwarts, Black had been slipping in and out in his transformed form. And he wasn't here to harm anyone—he was after Peter Pettigrew, the Animagus who had taken the form of Ron's pet rat, Scabbers.
Twelve years ago, Peter had betrayed the Potters, faked his own death, and framed Black, sending him to rot in Azkaban.
A newspaper article had tipped Black off that Peter was still alive. Black had escaped, determined to kill his former friend "again" and protect James Potter's son.
But Jon had no intention of helping him catch or kill the rat.
Yes, Peter would play a role in Voldemort's return, but with six and a half Horcruxes, Voldemort's resurrection was practically inevitable. Better to let it happen in a way Jon understood than risk an unknown scenario.
In fact, Dumbledore had been in control the whole time, and letting Voldemort use Harry's blood for his resurrection was, in a sense, part of his plan.
If it hadn't been for the accident with the Resurrection Stone that left Dumbledore with only months to live… Jon doubted Voldemort could have outmaneuvered him at all.
So, all Jon had to do was prevent that accident—keep Dumbledore from putting on the Resurrection Stone ring—and then sit back to watch the trap Dumbledore had laid for Voldemort spring shut.
As for Jon himself, what he needed most was to keep learning.
The road ahead was long, and only his own strength would truly be his.