Jon's hunch had been right. Ever since Ron Weasley's encounter with Black, Hogwarts' security had grown far stricter, and at least there had been no third attack.
The following months at Hogwarts passed quietly... Apart from spending most of his days in the Room of Requirement, Jon would, every couple of weeks, pass some of his collected materials on magical creature protection to Hermione Granger.
At the same time, he would try to confirm whether there were really two Hermiones... Unsurprisingly, he failed. Nearly a year had gone by, and he still hadn't caught her slipping up. It seemed he would just have to wait until the day Peter Pettigrew escaped, then block the entrance to the Hospital Wing!
Soon, the Easter holiday arrived, though it hardly felt relaxing—it only meant that final exams were drawing closer.
Homework piled up, and many Hufflepuff students were nearly buried under the pressure. Cedric Diggory had been busy preparing for his OWLs, the crucial fifth-year exams that shaped a wizard's future, and even as the Quidditch final approached, his training had noticeably slackened.
Even those Hogwarts students who usually drifted through their days began reviewing everything they'd learned over the past year in hopes of earning "good marks" on their finals.
Jon, however, felt no pressure at all. With his Special Contribution Award certificate, he didn't even need to take the exam for Flying—he would pass automatically. As for the rest, he couldn't be bothered in the slightest.
...
On the first Saturday after Easter, the last Quidditch match of the season ended.
Jon hadn't gone to watch. When he saw the gloomy faces of the Hufflepuff students returning from the match, he wisely chose not to ask about the result.
In short, for one reason or another, Hufflepuff had failed to defend the Quidditch Cup.
Before lunch, Jon headed alone to the owlery in the west tower, a place he had been frequenting lately.
The moment he arrived, a snowy-white owl swooped down in front of him, affectionately patting his shoulder with a wing.
"Good morning, Jorgrin!" Jon greeted it with a smile. He carefully placed a slip of parchment into the small tube on its right leg and whispered, "Now, I'll trouble you to make another trip to London."
"Coo, coo!" Jorgrin hooted cheerfully before taking off, vanishing into the skies toward London.
Jon checked his watch and left.
...
At dinner that evening, Jorgrin returned, carrying a small box.
"Thanks!" Jon glanced at his watch again, then fed the owl a few dried fish snacks.
Inside the box was the latest model of brass telescope, which had cost him three Galleons. It was designed as Quidditch World Cup merchandise, but since the Cup hadn't yet begun, the price was still fairly low.
"A telescope?" Steven Lucas gave it a glance. "You getting ready for the Astronomy exam?"
"Something like that..." Jon answered vaguely.
After dinner, he was just leaving the hall when someone called out to him.
Hermione Granger jogged over, clutching a heavy stack of books.
"Thank you for all your help lately, Jon..." she said, wiping at her tears. "But Buckbeak... he... he's going to die..."
As she spoke, she handed him a piece of parchment.
The parchment was written in standard New Roman font, the script neat and formal:
"Respected Professor Hagrid,
We have carefully reviewed your defense statement regarding the dangerous magical creature, the Hippogriff, and thoroughly investigated the relevant background information.
After detailed and thorough discussion—
We regret to inform you that we still believe this Hippogriff poses excessive danger to wizards and carries a potential risk of attack.
Therefore, we have reached the final decision to sentence the Hippogriff to death.
The execution will take place at 5:00 p.m. on June 6, 1994.
Executioner: Walden Macnair
Execution witnesses: Cornelius Fudge, Albert Runcorn, and Eric Munch
Please ensure the Hippogriff is kept under strict supervision until that time.
Diana Greengrass
Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures"
"I'm sorry..." Jon said after a glance at the date and time, his tone tinged with regret.
"It's not your fault..." Hermione sobbed. "That day... will you come with me to say goodbye to Buckbeak?"
"If I'm free," Jon replied firmly. "But if I recall, the afternoon of June 6 we have the Defense Against the Dark Arts exam..."
"Alright." Hermione nodded.
Of course Jon knew what would happen that afternoon—there was no way he was going to get dragged into that mess.
One careless move and he might get caught by Black or Pettigrew, or worse, bitten by a werewolf... and then where would he even begin to explain himself?
Still, now that he knew the exact date and time of the execution, he at least had some room to maneuver.
...
After parting with Hermione, Jon went to the greenhouse.
Professor Sprout was away attending an international Herbology conference in Warsaw, so he had been left in charge of things there.
He loosened the soil around the Ghost Vine, replaced the culture solution for the Rootless Grass, and trimmed the Devil's Snare.
But while pruning, over a dozen Devil's Snare spores broke off the main plant and fell to the ground.
Perhaps Professor Sprout had provided too favorable an environment, as the Devil's Snare was growing at an incredible pace—so much so that it had to be culled every few months.
Disposal meant separating the spores and destroying them completely with bright light or fire.
Jon raised his wand, ready to burn them with the Fire-Making Charm, then suddenly hesitated.
"What a waste... Perhaps I might need them someday?"
He pulled out a sealed herb pouch and carefully placed the spores inside. Then he added a little Burdock sap to prevent them from growing uncontrollably.
Once finished, Jon tucked the pouch into his magically expanded backpack.
After that, he returned to the Hufflepuff common room...