Chapter 8
Dumbledore was resplendent in a set of summery purple robes with a pattern of entwined vines around the border. He was also looking straight at me with no sign of surprise in spite of the fact that I hadn't been in contact with him since school had broken for the summer. Not that it really came as any great surprise to me that he knew where to find me.
"Poe, I do hope your holiday has been restful so far?" he said, strolling over from where he'd been leaning against the counter as if waiting for Tom's attention.
"Quite well, Professor. And yourself?" I said, making sure to avoid addressing him too personally in public.
"Not restful, I'm afraid but quite fruitful! As a matter of fact, I just found a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher in the last few days. Just in time to send out the booklists."
"Good to hear. How has Professor Babic been, do you know?" I said, stepping out of the way of the fireplaces to continue the conversation. It didn't escape my notice that this brought us closer to the door that would bring us into Diagon Alley.
"I gather that she has been settling down quite well with regular doses of Calming Draught. In one of her more lucid moments, she sent an apology for the trouble she caused and formally resigned from her post. She'd already been dismissed on health grounds but I'm loathe to deny her one last act of responsibility."
"That's good to hear. She was a good teacher when she was well."
"I gathered as much. Alas, such individuals are becoming harder to find each year. I do have high hopes for your next instructor, however."
"I look forward to their classes then," I said as politely as I could. I omitted the fact that Bill and Charlie had taken me through the second-year Defence syllabus already and helped me get started on the third-year one. "As much as I enjoy talking to you though sir, I believe my carer may be worried if I'm not back on time."
"I don't think that will be a problem," Dumbledore said, one eye flickering for a moment in a shadow of a wink. "If you are in a rush then I won't keep you of course, but I do hope you'll indulge me for a short while. I believe you may find it rather interesting."
I wasn't actually in any rush to return to the home if Dumbledore was sure he could smooth over any trouble. Besides, I was curious to see what he wanted to show me in Diagon Alley.
Five minutes later we were strolling down Diagon Alley with ice-cream cones in our hands—Dumbledore had dealt with my trunk with a wave of his wand before we left the Cauldron. Dumbledore had elected to sample a mix of mint, lemon and banana flavour while I'd indulged in two scoops of chocolate with some vanilla. As delicious as the ice-cream was, it wasn't the object of our trip. Nor was it the shrunken package he'd handed me that he said contained my required textbooks for the year ahead, though I appreciated the convenience of not having to come back for them. Not having to pay for them either was nice, even if Hogwarts would have covered the cost for me.
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"An owl?" I said, mentally scolding myself for stating the bleeding obvious. There were few other reasons to be standing in front of a display of the birds.
"Yes indeed. You see, while you have the services of our hard-working birds in Hogwarts, you are reliant on the Muggle postal services whilst on break. While that may suffice for most students, in your case I would much rather you have some means of contacting me on short notice."
Dumbledore had a point, as he often did. I also suspected that the only choice I was actually being offered was in which owl would carry my mail, rather than whether or not I would have one. Resigned, I picked out a particularly dark-feathered Short-Eared owl that caught my eye.
On a whim, I named them Kuro and endured Dumbledore's enquiring look silently. While I suspected he understood the word, there was less than zero chance of him placing the reference to a video game that wouldn't be released until decades after his death.
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I spent most of the rest of my holidays reading through my new textbooks. Whoever the new Defence teacher was, they seemed to be a fan of preparedness if their assigned text—a compendium of scenarios and the tactically appropriate responses to them—was anything to go by. I tried not to get my hopes up too much though.
I also finally got through the entirety of the book Professor McGonagall had given me the year before, though I had a short list of points I wanted to clarify with her first.
But my biggest achievement was when it finally twigged that I could use magic in Diagon Alley.
I'd already read through my textbooks by that point so I spent a few minutes working out the logistics of sneaking away each day to try and get some extra practice in. The conclusion that I came to was that I'd probably be able to squeeze in few hours a week if I could afford the cost of taking the Knight Bus. I'd be restricted to practicing the quieter, less destructive spells since I'd likely have to practice at a table in the Leaky Cauldron to minimise awkward questions. Buying food or drink in order to appease Tom would be an additional drain on my finances, but I came to the conclusion that it was worth it.
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The Knight Bus had its own unique brand of terror that was similar to—but unlike—the feeling of riding a broomstick. In the main, I would categorise it as being worse than broomstick flight on the grounds that most people who flew broomsticks weren't reliant on the ability of obstacles to avoid getting hit, as the Knight Bus did.
Stan Shunpike was not yet the conductor of course but that didn't bother me too much. Stan had few enough appearances that having to deal with a complete stranger wasn't much worse by comparison, in terms of familiarity.
In a moment of either courage or foolishness, I'd taken a seat near the front of the Bus after getting on. My position on the Bus didn't actually seem to have much bearing on how uncomfortable my journey was but it did let me converse with the conductor, from whom I learnt that the Knight Bus would offer the equivalent of 'season passes' for regular passengers. The price was a bit beyond what I could afford with my limited Muggle savings though. I would have to limit my journeys until I could find some additional source of finance.
Whatever else could be said about the Bus, it was very fast. Its path may be erratic but it got to destinations with unseemly haste. London traffic meant the journey to the Leaky Cauldron would normally have taken upwards of an hour. On the Knight Bus, it was a mere ten stomach-churning minutes.
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If Tom was surprised to see a Hogwarts student on holidays come in and claim a table by themselves, he didn't show it. In fact, I could have sworn he gave a knowing wink when I pulled out my wand and a spellbook. That reassured me somewhat. If I wasn't the first student to try this and Tom didn't try to warn me off then I was probably in the clear.
The food in the Leaky Cauldron was pleasant enough, if not as nice as the fare at Hogwarts or the Burrow. After a few minutes trying to decipher the menu, I'd ordered some bread and some exploding lemonade rather than risking the various soups named for different combinations of 'Leaky', 'House' and 'Soup'.
Soon enough I was seated at the end of one of the tables, away from any doorways. I had my Charms book open in front of me, mainly because most of the second-year Transfiguration needed animals to practice with. I resolved to try and catch some beetles and mice or rats and bring them with me the next time I came to the Cauldron. Perhaps Kuro could help with obtaining some of the latter.
For the next hour or so, pausing only to take a bit of bread or a sip of lemonade, I worked on the Engorgement and Shrinking charms. By the time I had to leave, I'd managed some small—hah!—success with both but still felt unsatisfied.
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If I'd had limited social interaction before, I was completely isolated after my first year at Hogwarts. The other children weren't sure what to make of me and—possibly because I so often made myself scarce—avoided me most of the time. The staff were all too willing to leave me to work on my essays and studying for hours on end. With my history of not actively causing trouble and the prospect of having to feed another mouth if I failed out of my fancy boarding school, they sometimes didn't even notice if I didn't turn up for dinner.
And so the rest of my summer break passed in relative peace and quiet. I spent most of my time in the orphanage working on my assigned essays and taking notes for my extra-curricular projects. I slipped away to the Leaky Cauldron several times a week without incident and gradually made progress on my spellwork. The other patrons in the Cauldron rarely reacted except to occasionally chuckle about eager young students or—on one occasion—to offer advice.
Kuro was largely self-sufficient, though she appreciated the occasional pieces of owl-appropriate food I was able to sneak out to her. The staff had complained about hearing a bird hooting a few times before I managed to convince her to keep quiet around the home itself. Aside from that, there were no other problems.
The lack of trouble did worry me slightly. I'd always been a bit of a pessimist when things seemed to be going well, always waiting for another shoe to drop. It didn't help that my ability to hone my self-defence skills was severely limited. Although I kept up regular exercise to stay in shape, I feared my reflexes would suffer after a few months of disuse.
My brewing skills were another deficiency in my summer work. Bill had assured me that he'd be willing to work with me again once we were back in Hogwarts provided his workload didn't become too untenable. I wasn't sure, but I had a sneaking suspicion that he'd relinquished his Time-Turner after his OWL exams.
My waiting didn't last forever though. The days ticked by and September was upon me once more. It was time to go home again.
