Your support has carved the path for these bonus chapters—may they bring you joy.
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The doll, Mewn, was doomed.The moment Hermione mentioned her peculiar behavior, both Bruce and Kathoom shot her a look so intense that the poor doll shrank into Hermione's arms, trembling.
She curled up tightly, hiding her head as if that would save her from the storm brewing around her.
"Let's see how long you can hide," Bruce muttered coldly. The dream magic she used before was already suspicious, and now she seemed to be secretly passing information.
The day Hermione couldn't protect her anymore would be her last.
"Let's give her a good beating first!" Kathoom suggested. "If she says she doesn't know anything, it means we didn't hit her hard enough."
Mewn shook even more violently, desperate to explain herself but trapped by her inability to speak.
Bruce turned his thoughts inward, communicating with Kathoom through their mental connection.
"Do you really think she's reporting to Barbatos?" he asked. "I'm not underestimating her, but what intel could she possibly send back? The day-to-day life of a teenage girl?"
The very idea felt absurd.
"Honestly, probably not," Kathoom admitted. "She's likely reporting to Rowena Ravenclaw. But who cares? I just want an excuse to rough her up."
As their silent conversation continued, Mewn felt the murderous aura around her subside slightly.
Tentatively, she peeked out from Hermione's arms—only to meet Kathoom's piercing gaze.
"Eep!"
With a terrified squeak, she ducked back into hiding.
---
Soon, the Grangers arrived at the Leaky Cauldron and made their way into Diagon Alley to purchase the textbooks needed for the new school year.
"Intermediate Transfiguration, The Monster Book of Monsters, Unfogging the Future, Ancient Runes: A Beginner's Guide…"
Bruce scanned the extensive list of books. Having chosen nearly all the available subjects, this year's list was far longer than before.
The standout was The Monster Book of Monsters, which seemed almost alive. Copies of the book were locked in cages because they constantly snapped at each other like feral creatures.
When the Grangers ordered two copies, the store clerk's pained expression looked as if they'd asked for his firstborn.
Once the purchases were complete, the combined textbooks filled six bags. Bruce and Mr. Granger carried the bulk of them out of the shop, only to hear Hermione calling out.
"Ron! Hi there!"
Bruce looked up and saw the Weasley family heading their way.
"Good afternoon, Hermione!" Ron greeted her cheerfully. "Did you get the postcards I sent from Egypt? I mailed them to both you and Bruce!"
"Yes, I got them," Hermione replied, shaking her head. "But did you really need to send so many? It was like a whole stack."
"I sent the same amount to Harry, but he hasn't replied once," Ron complained. "Oh, speaking of Harry—Dad said he's staying here in Diagon Alley because he got into some big trouble over the summer."
Hermione's expression instantly turned to concern. Knowing Harry and Ron, if Ron thought it was serious, it must truly be bad.
Bruce was curious too. He glanced at Kathoom, only to notice the owl staring intently at Ron.
"What are you looking at?" Bruce followed Kathoom's gaze to see Ron's pet rat, Scabbers, in his arms.
Scabbers, looking even more worn out than before, was a pitiful sight. Age had clearly caught up with him, making him appear frail and unkempt compared to other, healthier rats.
"You're not thinking of eating Ron's rat, are you?" Bruce frowned. "You've always preferred human food. Why the sudden return to a predator's diet?"
Kathoom didn't answer immediately.
After a moment, he exhaled with satisfaction. "Seventy-four freckles—twelve more than two months ago."
"What?" Bruce blinked, baffled.
"Ron's freckles," Kathoom explained matter-of-factly. "I count them at the start and end of every school year. It's a tradition. A way to track his growth."
Bruce stared at him, utterly speechless. Of all the pointless hobbies…
"So you weren't staring at the rat?"
"Why would I?" Kathoom scoffed. "That thing's a walking corpse. Someone will catch it sooner or later."
Meanwhile, the Granger and Weasley parents were catching up, chatting about the Weasleys' summer trip to Egypt.
Mrs. Granger suggested, "Why don't we take the kids for some ice cream? I'm sure they have a lot to talk about after a whole summer apart."
Mrs. Weasley agreed, and they all headed to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Bruce, Hermione, and Ron sat by the window, watching the bustling crowds in Diagon Alley.
"Back to Harry," Ron said, scooping up some ice cream. "Apparently, he used magic outside school and blew up his aunt."
"Blew her up!?" Hermione's eyes widened in shock.
Ron realized his mistake. "No, not blew up! I mean, he inflated her—like a balloon. She floated off for miles!"
The mental image was too much, and Ron couldn't help but laugh.
"Ron!" Hermione scolded, her tone deadly serious. "That's not funny. Even if no one got hurt, underage wizards aren't allowed to use magic outside school! He could get expelled!"
How could Ron laugh at something so serious?
"It wasn't me who used magic…" Ron muttered, but his mood shifted as he spotted someone outside.
"Hey, isn't that Harry? Harry! Over here!"
Waving enthusiastically, Ron tried to get Harry's attention.
Hermione also spotted him. Harry was wandering aimlessly down the street, looking groggy, as if he'd just woken up.
Hearing Ron's calls, Harry noticed them and headed over.
"Finally, I found you guys," Harry said as he sat down.
"We were just talking about you," Ron said with a grin.
Harry winced. He could guess the topic.
"How do you know about it?" he asked.
"Dad told me," Ron replied. "Oh, and he said he wants to talk to you."
Ron called over to Mr. Weasley, who looked up and noticed Harry sitting with the kids.
"Harry!" Mr. Weasley called out. "Can I have a word with you?"
Harry followed him to a quiet corner, leaving Bruce to eavesdrop on snippets of their conversation: "danger," "Sirius Black," "protection." It was clear Mr. Weasley was warning Harry.
"Why is Sirius Black targeting Harry?" Bruce asked Kathoom. "If he's so loyal, wouldn't his priority be Voldemort? Voldemort isn't exactly gone."
"Sirius would never harm Harry," Kathoom replied casually, swiping Bruce's ice cream. "He's Harry's godfather. A godfather doesn't hurt their own child."
Bruce froze, processing the statement.
"Sirius Black is Harry's godfather? But he betrayed Harry's parents, which led to their deaths!"
"Don't read too much into it," Kathoom said. "Sirius was framed. The real culprit is right under our noses. Wanna guess who? Bet you can't."
"Ron's rat," Bruce said without hesitation.
Kathoom stared at him, astonished. "When did your deductive skills get this sharp?"
"Do you think I'm stupid?" Bruce shot back. "You already said the rat's a walking corpse and hinted the culprit was nearby. Even The Deep could figure that out."
Turning to Ron, Bruce asked, "Can I hold Scabbers for a moment?"
"Sure," Ron said, handing over the lethargic rat. "Why the sudden interest in him?"
"I'm a rat enthusiast," Bruce replied vaguely. "How long has Scabbers been with your family?"
Ron thought for a moment. "About twelve years. He used to be Percy's pet before he passed him down to me. He's really old now. If he died tomorrow, I wouldn't be surprised."
Interesting, Bruce mused.
A rat living twelve years? Most wild rats only survived three years at best, and even domesticated ones rarely lived beyond ten.
As if sensing danger, Scabbers began to squirm in Bruce's grasp, but Bruce held him firmly.
"This is getting interesting," Kathoom remarked, leaning closer. "That little guy's survival instincts are top-notch."
Scabbers became even more frantic as Kathoom approached, his anxiety skyrocketing.
It wasn't just Kathoom's predatory presence. Scabbers was starting to suspect this wasn't just some innocent rat enthusiast.
Scabbers shot Bruce a glare as if to say: You're no rat lover—you're trying to feed me to your owl!
This is too much!
The rat's tiny fists clenched in indignation.
"Hey, Ron, look," Bruce said with mock excitement. "Your rat can make fists!"
"Scabbers can do all sorts of weird things," Ron replied nonchalantly. "He's been around so long, it'd be strange if he didn't pick up a few tricks."
"Fascinating…" Bruce's tone was dry as he noticed Scabbers' missing toe.
Recalling the story of Peter Pettigrew, who'd supposedly left only a finger behind after Sirius Black "killed" him, Bruce's suspicions deepened.
"This rat is Peter Pettigrew, isn't he?" Bruce said, turning the rat over to examine him closely. "That means he's an Animagus."
"Correct," Kathoom confirmed. "So, are you going to expose him?"
"Tempting, but no."
Bruce grabbed Scabbers by the tail and held him up.
"I'm learning to become an Animagus this year."
"This rat is going to be my study subject."
---
T/N: If his animagus form isnt a fucking bat, it's rigged.
Greetings, esteemed Readers,
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