Jon had planned to slip away silently again, just as before.
But this time, he stopped in his tracks.
He gently pushed open the door to the Potions classroom, slowing his steps as he entered. His movements were so light that the two girls inside didn't notice the invisible intruder.
Astoria sat at her usual seat for Potions... while Daphne Greengrass had taken Jon's old place.
A steady stream of tears rolled silently down Astoria's sorrowful face. She didn't make a sound, only letting the tears fall without end. They seemed inexhaustible, flowing without pause. Her eyes were swollen from crying, a sight that was painful to watch.
On the desk before her sat the two-way mirror Jon had bought.
But the other mirror was tightly wrapped in parchment and stored away in Jon's bag.
She could never see anything through it.
Even so, her swollen eyes never left the mirror's surface.
Daphne Greengrass held her little sister tightly.
"Forget all of this..." she whispered softly. "Just pretend it was only a nightmare. Pretend he never existed..."
"I don't believe it, sister... I don't believe it..." Astoria's hoarse voice trembled. "Jon promised me... he said when the term ended, he'd come visit our home... And the term ends in just a few days..."
"He's dead..."
"I don't believe it... I saw his eyes in the mirror..." She broke into sobs again.
Her hoarse cries were so bitter, as if steeped in venom.
Daphne's comfort seemed to have no effect at all—it didn't ease her sister's pain in the slightest.
Instead, tears began to glimmer in Daphne's own eyes.
...
Jon felt his emotions slipping out of his control.
His eyes began to sting.
He wanted nothing more than to run to her, to take her into his arms... to tell her he was still alive.
Only Occlumency kept him clinging to the last fragile threads of reason.
That thin thread of reason stopped him.
Because if he revealed himself, everything he had worked for would become meaningless.
He drew a deep breath and forced himself to leave the Potions classroom.
Astoria's sobs echoed in his ears.
Covering them with his hands, Jon fled, running far down the corridor...
At last, he stopped.
From his pocket, he pulled out the other half of the two-way mirror and carefully tore away the parchment wrapped around it.
Through the mirror, he saw Astoria's face as clearly as if she were before him, and he could hear her sobs.
But thanks to the Disillusionment Charm cloaking him, Astoria saw nothing.
He let out a soft sigh, wrapped the mirror in parchment again, and tucked it back into his robes.
...
It was already late, though not yet midnight.
Jon no longer wished to wander the castle. He headed straight to the eighth floor.
At the entrance to the Headmaster's Office, the ugly stone gargoyle half-closed its eyes as it noticed him.
Sensing his heavy mood, the gargoyle shifted one leg aside, feigning nonchalance as it cleared a path for him. Only when Jon passed did it let out a sigh of relief.
Inside Dumbledore's office, Jon saw signs of a struggle on the walls and bookshelves. Near the edge of a portrait, he even spotted claw marks.
"You don't know how Professor Snape put my scoundrel of a great-grandson in his place!" Headmaster Phineas Black was exclaiming with relish.
On any other day, Jon would have gone over to join in.
But today, he had no heart for it.
...
Albus Dumbledore, his half-moon spectacles perched on his nose, was seated at his desk, reading the newspaper.
"Professor," Jon said softly.
"Have you decided?" Dumbledore looked up, his voice gentle.
Jon hesitated for a moment, then finally nodded.
"I've just contacted a few friends in France," Dumbledore continued as though he hadn't noticed Jon's unease. "You will have a new identity... as a fourth-year student at Beauxbatons."
"I've already spoken with Madame Maxime, and she readily agreed!" he went on. "Of course, she doesn't know you're Jon Hart. I simply told her you're a distant relative of mine."
As he spoke, Dumbledore handed him a complete set of documents.
Jon glanced through them. They seemed perfectly authentic.
"Professor..." his voice had gone hoarse.
"Of course, Jon." Dumbledore's tone suddenly grew solemn. "As I mentioned earlier, I also have a request of you."
Jon, after spending the afternoon wandering the castle, had nearly forgotten.
"Please, Headmaster," he said quickly.
"First of all, it is only a request. Whether you agree or not is entirely your choice..." Dumbledore's voice softened. "I imagine you now have a new identity..."
Jon nodded.
"In Voldemort's eyes, you are already dead—a minor pawn he killed without a thought. He won't pay you any further attention..." Dumbledore continued. "So, for now, you are safe."
Jon nodded again.
"My request is this: I want you to return to Hogwarts next year as an exchange student."
"An exchange student?" Jon froze.
"Yes, an exchange student from Beauxbatons, for one year. After that year, you'll be free of any ties to Hogwarts," Dumbledore said calmly. "Whether you choose to remain in France or not afterward will be up to you."
"Professor, I don't understand..." Jon stammered.
"It's very simple." Dumbledore's pale blue eyes met Jon's directly. "I hope you will stay at Hogwarts for one more year."
"And I promise you, after that year... I will tell you a very important secret about yourself."
Jon felt his breath quicken.
"As I said, this is only a request... just as your request to me was. The choice is yours." Dumbledore removed his spectacles and rubbed his eyes.
"So, Jon, what is your answer?"