"Mrs. Bones?"
It took Jon a few seconds to recognize the middle-aged woman standing before him—Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
"Yes, Mr. Hart, hello... We met briefly at the gates of Azkaban," Mrs. Bones nodded kindly. "You were with Professor Dumbledore at the time. Also, I received your letter yesterday."
"But Mrs. Bones... Black escaped in the end, didn't he?" Jon let a look of panic—and even fear—show on his face.
Mrs. Bones clearly guessed what the young man was thinking. "Don't worry. The Ministry of Magic keeps all reports strictly confidential. Until Black is caught, no one will know that you are the informant mentioned in the Daily Prophet."
"Thank you, ma'am!" Jon said gratefully, relieved.
"As for the reward..." Mrs. Bones finally addressed what Jon was most concerned about. "I must say, Mr. Hart, the information you provided was extremely valuable. It even directly helped Fudge capture Black. Unfortunately, Black was simply too cunning..."
"Still, the Ministry of Magic will pay you the reward you're owed," she continued after a pause. "At the same time, we'll also report this matter in The Daily Prophet to encourage more wizards to come forward with information about Black's whereabouts. You know well the negative impact the Black case has had on the Ministry of Magic lately."
"You'll conceal my name and identity, won't you?" Jon asked quickly.
"Of course. That goes without saying." Mrs. Bones nodded.
"Then I truly thank the Ministry for its generosity, ma'am!" Jon bowed deeply in gratitude.
"This is what you deserve, Mr. Hart," Mrs. Bones said with a smile. "If you receive any more information about Black in the future, you can write directly to Deputy Director Kingsley Shacklebolt. He's the new head of the manhunt."
"I will, ma'am," Jon nodded. "I wish you success in bringing him to justice!"
"Thank you."
...
The next day, as Jon prepared to board the Hogwarts Express, his suitcase now contained 2,500 gold Galleons.
One Galleon weighed 20 grams, meaning 2,500 of them came to nearly 110 pounds. Fortunately, thanks to the Extension Charm, the heavy Galleons felt light as a feather—otherwise Jon would never have been able to lift the case.
Passing the Hogsmeade platform, he spotted Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger talking together.
He overheard Hermione sighing. "I can't go through another year like this... That Time-Turner nearly drove me mad. I've already handed it back to Professor McGonagall."
"You didn't even tell me or Harry about the Time-Turner. I still can't believe it," Ron grumbled. "An entire year!"
"I'm sorry, but I promised not to tell anyone," Hermione said firmly. Then she turned. "Harry, what's wrong?"
"I'm fine!" Harry gave a faint, dejected smile. "I was just thinking about the Patronus... I tried a few times today, and though I could summon my stag, it wasn't nearly as strong or bright as that night..."
"Maybe because you didn't have a hundred Dementors breathing down your neck!" Ron suggested. "If you were in the same situation again, you'd pull it off, Harry."
"Maybe," Harry said thoughtfully with a nod.
"Good morning!" Jon greeted as he passed by.
"Hello!" the three replied in unison.
"Right!" As Jon boarded the train, Ron suddenly remembered something. He turned to Hermione with a serious look. "Are you and Hart close?"
"It's fine... just normal," Hermione frowned. "It's only because my father and his father are friends. Why?"
"Maybe he doesn't see it that way," Ron snorted. "That night when we were injured, he went out of his way to visit you in the Hospital Wing."
"Is that so?" Hermione murmured softly.
...
Once on the train, Jon entered his usual compartment.
Astoria was already waiting for him. When Jorglin saw Jon arrive, it let out an excited string of "coo coo coo."
"Jorglin seems to like you better than me!" Astoria pouted in mock complaint.
"Sorry..." Jon smiled apologetically. "I've been using it a lot lately."
"It doesn't even remember who its real owner is anymore!" Astoria huffed, pulling out a small comb and smoothing Jorglin's feathers.
"There's the Quidditch World Cup this summer!" she suddenly said. "Jon, why don't you come with us to watch the matches... My mother can definitely get tickets!"
Jon thought for a moment, then asked, "Would your sister and your parents really welcome me?"
Astoria froze, lowered her head, and said quietly, "I'll do my best to convince them..."
"Thank you for the invitation, but I'm sorry," Jon shrugged. "This summer I have to go with my parents to America."
"America? Why there?" Astoria asked curiously.
"It's another huge sporting event held every four years," Jon explained calmly. "We're going to watch a different World Cup."
Jon then spent over ten minutes explaining to Astoria what soccer was.
"That sounds like such a fun sport!" Astoria blinked.
"At least it's a fair one," Jon said with a smile.
...
Suddenly, a loud noise came from outside the window.
Jon turned to look and saw a small gray shape flitting above the glass.
"It's an owl!" Astoria shouted.
Jon opened the window and let the owl inside.
"Coo coo coo!" Jorglin gave an unhappy cry.
The owl dropped a small box in front of Jon, then flew off again.
Jon carefully opened the box and found a familiar golden pendant inside.
It was the pendant the house-elves had given him that Christmas.
Alongside it was a slip of paper with a single short line written on it:
"I think this should be yours — AD."
Jon let out a relieved breath — glad there was nothing else written.
He tucked the golden pendant safely into his pocket, tore the note to pieces, and scattered them out the window.