Kapitel 69: capture the dog
The slender lad with raven locks and emerald eyes returned to the Leaky Cauldron from Diagon Alley burdened with a stack of homework. It was Harry Potter.
Tom, the bar owner, promptly fell silent.
"Harry, it's been a while. How are you faring?" Ciaran took a sip of his beer and greeted with a smile.
Harry settled into the seat beside Ciaran, setting down his armful of homework with a grin. "Professor, it's great to see you here."
"I've heard you've had quite the adventure, breaking out of your aunt and uncle's place?" Ciaran smiled. "You truly embody Gryffindor qualities, Harry. Brave, fearless, perhaps a tad reckless. Your actions have often placed you in peril."
Harry chuckled sheepishly. "Can't argue with that... it was my fault, though I had my reasons..."
"Fair enough, I trust you." Ciaran grinned. "The Ministry hasn't come knocking, have they?"
At this, Harry's expression shifted, and he casually inquired, "Speaking of which, Professor, any idea why the Minister of Magic personally sought me out at the Leaky Cauldron?"
"Ahem!" Tom coughed twice, a subtle reminder to Ciaran not to divulge Sirius's connection to Harry's parents. In the eyes of most wizards, Sirius was deemed responsible for Harry's parents' demise, and upon his escape from Azkaban, he was expected to seek vengeance—retribution for Voldemort's defeat because of Harry!
Though Ciaran knew the truth, discretion was paramount at present. The stain on Sirius's reputation was not easily cleansed.
"You'll learn in due time, Harry. Now isn't the moment," Ciaran replied softly.
"Alright." Harry was accustomed to such evasions. He'd asked Minister Fudge himself, to no avail.
"Ah, Ciaran?" Two more figures emerged from behind the Leaky Cauldron's bar: an elderly woman and a plump-faced boy.
Ciaran recognized them instantly. The old woman was Neville's grandmother, Augusta Longbottom, a formidable witch who'd raised her grandson single-handedly, possessing considerable magical prowess. The round-faced lad was none other than Neville Longbottom himself, a boy with a poor memory and fragile self-esteem, except in Herbology.
"Charran, Neville's spoken highly of you. Thank you for looking after him," Augusta Longbottom said.
Ciaran waved off the gratitude. "Neville excels in combat, deserving commendation."
Neville blushed involuntarily.
"Harry Potter, Neville's mentioned you're a good friend of his. It warms my heart to know Neville has friends like you," Mrs. Augusta remarked, casting her gaze upon Harry.
Harry nodded. "Neville's a great friend."
"Neville, bid farewell to your mentors and peers. It's time for us to depart," Mrs. Augusta declared gravely.
"Professor Frémont, Harry, farewell." Neville followed his grandmother out of the Leaky Cauldron, vanishing with a crack beyond the doorway as Augusta Apparated them away.
"Oh!" Harry couldn't help but marvel.
Ciaran elucidated, "That's Apparition. There's also Side-Along Apparition. Harry, once you come of age, you can learn from Ministry instructors. It's an elective, though."
"I can't wait!" Harry exclaimed wistfully.
Ciaran entered Diagon Alley, the pinnacle of wizarding commerce. Bustling with activity, wizards and Muggles intermingled as school term approached.
Though familiar with the Alley, Ciaran lacked the energy for aimless wandering. He procured supplies from the apothecary, along with a crucible. Contemplating, he also purchased reading material for leisure.
With cauldron filled and books in hand, he exited Diagon Alley via the Leaky Cauldron. Harry was absent, likely returned to his quarters.
"That massive black hound!" Ciaran stepped out of the Leaky Cauldron, casually scanning his surroundings. Indeed, he spotted a sizable black dog nestled among flowers opposite the inn, fixated on the establishment.
Ciaran deduced this to be Sirius's Animagus form.
After a moment's deliberation, he crossed the street, crucible in tow, nearing the dog. The creature tensed, then swiftly retreated down an uninhabited alley.
"Quite alert!" Ciaran retrieved his wand, crucible at his side, and ventured into the deserted alley. With dwindling daylight and obstructed views, pedestrian traffic was sparse.
Ciaran ventured deeper, large crates obscuring the street beyond.
A shadow darted forth, noiselessly.
Prepared, Ciaran invoked a protective spell. The shadow collided with the ground, dazed.
Convinced of Sirius's identity, Ciaran summoned ropes to restrain the canine.
With wand aimed, he released Sirius from his stupor.
"Woof!" Sirius growled.
"Alright, Sirius, end the charade," Ciaran drawled lazily.
Sirius barked hesitantly, his fear palpable. Evidently, he dreaded Ciaran's handover to the Ministry, a prelude to the soul-draining Dementor's Kiss.
Ciaran observed the canine's apprehension, contemplating his next move.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein