Fudge shrugged off his striped cloak and tossed it aside, hitched up his dark green suit trousers, and sat down opposite Harry.
"Harry, I'm Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic."
Harry already knew exactly who he was.
He'd seen his face in the papers more than once—just moments ago, right beneath Sirius's photo, there had been Minister Fudge's round, polished face.
Tom the barman appeared again. He was wearing an apron over his long shirt-like nightshirt and carrying a tray with tea and crumpets on it.
He set the tray down between them, then slipped back out and shut the door.
"Well then, Harry," Fudge said as he poured tea, "to tell you the truth, you really gave us a fright. Running away from your aunt and uncle's house like that!
I honestly thought… well, never mind. You're safe now, and that's what matters most."
Fudge took a crumpet for himself, spread butter over it, and pushed the plate toward Harry.
"Eat up, Harry. You look ready to collapse. Don't be shy, Mr. Green."
Fudge turned and smiled warmly at Sean again.
The three of them were seated in a rather strange arrangement: Harry was on the side by the wall, while Sean had been placed on the same side as Fudge himself.
From that angle, it almost looked like Fudge and Sean were sitting together to pass judgment on Harry.
"You see, your Aunt Marge was blown up like a balloon, and then you vanished, Harry.
It would've been hard not to connect the dots…
Still… you were clever, Harry. You found someone to help you.
For Mr. Green's sake, the Ministry has already taken care of the unfortunate incident involving Miss Marjorie Dursley being inflated. I imagine that'll make you happy.
Two members of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad were sent to Privet Drive two hours ago. Miss Dursley has been deflated, and her memory has been modified.
She doesn't remember a thing about it now. That's that. No major scandal."
Fudge smiled at Harry over the rim of his teacup, like an uncle admiring his favorite nephew.
Harry could hardly believe his ears. He opened his mouth to speak, then had no idea what to say, so he shut it again.
"Ah, you're worried about your aunt and uncle's reaction, are you?" Fudge said. "Well, I won't deny they were furious, Harry, but they're still prepared to let you come back next summer. They just want you to spend Christmas and Easter at Hogwarts."
Harry finally managed to speak.
"I always spend Christmas and Easter at Hogwarts," he said.
And then he waited to hear what they planned to do to him next.
"Now then," Fudge said, helping himself to a second crumpet and buttering it, "that only leaves one question—where you'll spend the last three weeks of the summer. I'd recommend renting a room here at the Leaky Cauldron—"
"Wait," Harry cut in suddenly. "If you knew it was me who used magic, how would you punish me?"
Fudge blinked.
"Punish you?"
"I broke the law!" Harry said. "The Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Wizards!"
"Oh, my dear boy, we're hardly going to punish you over something like that!" Fudge said loudly, waving his crumpet impatiently. "It was an accident! We don't send people to Azkaban just because they inflated an aunt!"
This was nothing like Harry's previous dealings with the Ministry.
"Last year, just because a house-elf smashed a pudding at my uncle's house, I got an official warning!" Harry said, frowning. "The Ministry said if there was any more magic there, I'd be expelled from Hogwarts!"
Maybe Harry imagined it, but Fudge suddenly looked awkward.
"Well, circumstances change, Harry… we have to take the current situation into account… Surely you don't want to be expelled?"
"Of course I don't," Harry said.
"Well then, why keep going on about it?" Fudge said with a cheerful laugh. "Go on, have a crumpet. Harry, I'm just going to see whether Tom has a room for you.
And then I'd like a word with Mr. Green.
I've been waiting for this moment for quite a long time."
Fudge strode out of the private room. Harry stared after him.
Something about all this was deeply strange. If Fudge had no intention of punishing him, why had he been waiting for him at the Leaky Cauldron?
And now that Harry thought about it, the Minister for Magic personally dealing with an underage magic case was bizarre in itself, wasn't it?
"It's… Sirius."
Harry finally put it together.
He jerked his head up and stared at the moonlight outside the window.
It was pale and hazy, unreal somehow.
"Sean—is it Sirius?" Harry asked. He knew exactly who was most worth asking.
"Yes," Sean said with a nod.
"He was Voldemort's favorite follower. He escaped Azkaban. He's going to…"
What was he going to do?
What kind of question was that?
He'd blown up a street. If there had been a boy named Harry Potter on that street, he probably would've laughed himself sick doing it.
A wave of cold panic swept through Harry.
A fugitive. A powerful fugitive. He had escaped from the most dangerous prison in the world.
No one knew how he'd done it, but everyone knew what came next—
he was coming to kill Harry Potter.
"So that's why Minister Fudge came…
It had nothing to do with us blowing her up…"
Harry's throat felt dry. He could barely get the words out.
Ever since he'd entered the magical world, someone had always been trying to kill him.
"Yes, Harry," Sean said calmly.
"Sean, can I come back to Hogwarts with you?" Harry asked carefully, almost timidly.
If only he could stay with Sean.
What made Harry's whole back go cold was that Sean shook his head.
"I understand," Harry said, his voice sounding rough even to himself.
"Harry, listen to me."
Just as Harry drifted into that numb, hollow feeling, Sean spoke.
"You won't be in danger."
"What?" Harry asked blankly.
But before he could think through what that meant, Fudge and Tom the barman came back in together.
"Room Ten's just been taken, but Room Eleven is free, Harry," Fudge said. "I think you'll be quite comfortable there. There's just one thing, and I'm sure you'll understand:
I do not want you wandering off into Muggle London on your own, understood?
Don't leave Diagon Alley. Be back here before dark every night.
I'm sure you understand. Tom will keep an eye on you for me.
Now then, Mr. Green, may I borrow a bit of your time?"
And before Harry had time to react, Fudge cheerfully—almost literally glued to Sean's side—led him out of the room.
~~~
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