After informing the Harts of the details, Elphias Doge and Hestia Jones—both members of the Order of the Phoenix—departed from Number 86 Eastley Road.
Eric and Judi returned inside, discussing what had just happened, completely unaware that their son was only a few feet away, hiding just beyond the garden wall.
Jon crouched beneath a sycamore tree by the roadside, hesitated for a moment, then drew out a quill and began to write.
Fawkes, meanwhile, fluttered about curiously.
She soared up to the treetop, plucked a wisp of sycamore fluff with her beak, and swallowed it with clear satisfaction. Finding the taste rather agreeable, she flew to another branch and began devouring more.
Only when Jon waved her over did she return to his side.
"Careful not to burn it," Jon said cautiously as he tied the letter to one of her talons.
Phoenix nodded impatiently.
The moment Jon released her, she took off into the air... A flash of golden light streaked across the sky, and she vanished into the distance.
...
With Fawkes gone, Jon was now completely alone.
He drank a small vial of Polyjuice Potion, transforming casually into a dark-haired man with a full beard.
Then, somewhere along Eastley Road, he found an inn and checked in. Jon still had nearly a thousand Galleons and several hundred thousand pounds—the reward he'd earned for turning in Sirius the previous yea. For the time being, there was no concern about his livelihood.
He chose a room with a window facing the main road so that he could see directly into his own courtyard.
Opening his backpack, Jon ignored the bottles and jars inside and instead began flipping through Advanced Dark Magic Revealed.
Without the pressure of the Triwizard Tournament or the looming threat of Voldemort and the Death Eaters, he finally had time to read in peace.
Unfortunately, his wand was not with him—it had been "borrowed" by Dumbledore the night before.
Dumbledore had explained that he needed Jon Hart's wand to visit the Ministry of Magic and officially deregister his wizard identity. Normally, when a wizard dies, their wand is sent to the Ministry for destruction.
Of course, Dumbledore had promised that Jon's wand would be returned within a day.
He also mentioned that once a minor wizard's registration was annulled, the trace that tracked underage magic would be removed as well.
In other words, Jon could now use magic outside school without worrying about being traced.
Considering he still had more than half a month before turning fourteen, being able to use his wand freely three years early felt like quite the bargain.
...
That evening, June 25th, at Hogwarts.
When Astoria Greengrass entered the Great Hall, she noticed that all the usual decorations had disappeared. The walls were now draped entirely in black, giving the hall a solemn, mournful air.
Two people were missing from the staff table: Igor Karkaroff, Headmaster of Durmstrang, and Mad-Eye Moody, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Karkaroff had likely fled—after all, he had betrayed so many Death Eaters. As for Moody, he was probably preparing to face them.
Astoria pondered silently.
Beside her, Daphne kept piling food onto her plate, and Astoria didn't refuse... yet the feast, once delicious, now tasted dull and lifeless.
Dumbledore suddenly rose to his feet, and the already quiet hall fell completely silent.
Astoria struggled not to cry, bowing her head as she listened to Dumbledore's speech.
But when Dumbledore began to speak of Jon—telling everyone that Jon Hart had been murdered by Voldemort—
she could no longer hold back her tears.
Just before they fell, she suddenly seemed to hear a faint, ethereal song. The melody filled her with courage...
Though the song vanished almost instantly, it left her feeling that she could face it all.
Dumbledore continued, praising Harry Potter for the extraordinary courage he had shown in confronting Voldemort, and calling upon everyone to unite against the coming darkness.
But honestly, his words stirred little reaction at the Slytherin table.
Nearly half the Slytherins had direct relatives who had been Death Eaters; the other half were at least distantly connected to them.
It was fair to say that the vast majority of pure-blood families either supported or did not oppose Voldemort's ideology.
Across the hall, Avery and Selwyn were smiling and whispering to each other...
A hot surge of anger rose within Astoria. Her hands trembled slightly. For the first time in her life, she felt real hatred and contempt.
...
The banquet ended.
Astoria didn't want to linger any longer. She hurried down to the dungeons and pushed open a hidden stone door concealed within a damp, moss-covered wall.
She was the first to return to the dormitory; Selwyn and Madeline had not yet come back.
A green-glowing lamp hung by a chain from the ceiling. Astoria lay on her bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling.
Then, suddenly, she felt something bulging in her pocket.
Astoria reached inside—she couldn't recall putting anything there.
Out came a peculiar little bird, no more than five inches long, resembling a tiny owl. Its feathers were mostly grayish-black, streaked with shining gold.
"What kind of creature is this?" Astoria murmured, curious. She had never seen anything quite like it.
The tiny bird slept soundly, completely spent from some great exertion.
"Goo-goo-goo!" came an indignant hoot from the nearby cage. Jorglin, her snow-white owl, seemed to be accusing his mistress of betrayal.
The golden owlet blinked drowsily, yawned, and straightened on her perch.
Then she shot Jorglin a sharp glare.
Jorglin immediately fell silent, retreating into the corner of his cage, hardly daring to breathe.
"Hello," Astoria said softly. "How did you end up in my pocket?"
The golden owlet lifted a claw, revealing a letter tied to it.
Astoria quickly untied the letter from its tiny claw and took it in her hands.
Once freed, the golden owl began flitting about the room. She first landed beside Jorglin's food dish, sniffed it with disdain, then flew off again.
Astoria unfolded the letter.
The moment she saw the first page, she froze.
Flustered, she tucked the letter against her chest and began searching for the golden owl—
but it had already flown away.