Because Mr Weasley had held him back with a string of inexplicable remarks, Harry and Ron boarded the train very late. By the time they made their way down the carriages, everything was full—except for the one at the very end.
The compartment held only one person: a middle-aged man asleep by the window, dressed in a shabby wizard's robe patched in many places. He looked sickly and utterly drained of energy.
Though he appeared middle-aged, the hair at his temples was already greying.
Ron and Harry lowered their voices. After a moment's hesitation, they entered the compartment—there really weren't any other free seats left.
"Does it feel like there are way more people this year?" Ron muttered quietly after stowing their luggage.
"I was thinking the same," Harry agreed.
In previous years, while empty compartments were scarce, they'd never been this packed—almost every one was occupied.
"Who's that?" Harry asked in a hushed voice, eyeing the sleeping man. It was the first time he'd seen an adult wizard as a passenger on the train.
"R.J. Lupin," Ron answered.
"How do you know?"
"It's written on his trunk. I saw it when I was putting my stuff up." Ron pointed overhead, where a battered old suitcase sat on the rack. Lupin's name was printed in peeling letters on one corner.
"D'you think he's a professor? For which subject?" Ron frowned, studying the sleeping Lupin.
"Isn't it obvious?" Harry adjusted his glasses, unconsciously edging further away. "Which teaching position other than Defence Against the Dark Arts has had professors leaving every year?"
"Maybe it's Snape?" Ron suddenly brightened up, fantasising again. "Dumbledore's finally had enough of him and sacked him."
"Don't get your hopes up," Harry poured cold water on the idea. "I saw Malfoy the other day. He wouldn't be so smug if Snape had left."
"Can't you let me enjoy this for a bit?" Ron instantly deflated.
Noticing Lupin showed no signs of waking, the two gradually relaxed.
Harry told Ron about Mr Weasley's strange warnings earlier, asking his best mate to help analyse them.
After hearing it, Ron seemed uncertain too.
He could only venture a guess.
"Maybe he thinks you've got a grudge against Voldemort, and since Black is the Death Eaters' second-in-command, he'll definitely come after you for revenge."
Harry looked baffled. "Then it should be Black coming to me. Why would I deliver myself to him?"
Ron scratched his head awkwardly. "Yeah... that makes sense..."
Neither noticed Lupin stirring slightly where he lay.
Sirius Black...
...
Meanwhile, in a compartment one carriage away, Wayne and the others' conversation had also turned to Black.
"What are you reading?"
Hermione noticed Ginny and Luna staring unblinkingly at a magazine, completely absorbed, and couldn't help asking.
"Hmm..."
"'Fudge and Black: The Untold Story,'" Ginny read the article title casually.
"Oh?"
Wayne, who'd been idly playing with Cho's hand, perked up. "That sounds juicy! Let me see!"
The others leaned in with interest, too.
Luna passed the magazine to the boy, and two small heads pressed close to Wayne's to read along.
Astoria's mouth fell open as she read. "This... this is ridiculous! Is it true...?"
"Absolute rubbish!" Hermione's face flushed with anger as she looked up indignantly.
"How could Fudge possibly be colluding with Black? He's the Minister for Magic!"
"The Quibbler's just sensationalising."
"But the facts fit..." Luna showed no offence at Hermione criticising her family's magazine, speaking in her usual dreamy tone.
"Fudge visited Azkaban days before Sirius escaped."
"There must be some shady dealings between them. The whole thing's deeper than it seems. Those who know, know. Those who don't... well, they wouldn't understand even if you told them. Yes, that's how it is..."
"But Fudge would have no reason to do this!" Hearing her reasoning, Hermione found herself almost convinced before shaking her head clear. "Black's a Death Eater! Fudge is the Minister for Magic!"
"He's the most powerful man in the wizarding world. Why would he conspire with a dangerous criminal?"
"Black was never properly tried..." Luna murmured. "Perhaps Fudge sent him to Azkaban to retrieve some treasure."
"Now that he's found it, naturally, he was released."
"Erm... if I may interject," Wayne couldn't take it anymore, cutting in, "Black was tried when Fudge was just a junior clerk. Barty Crouch Sr. oversaw the trial."
Luna turned her slightly protuberant eyes towards the boy, blinking slowly. When the atmosphere grew somewhat silent, she suddenly spoke up: "You make a good point. Perhaps Fudge had already taken control of the Ministry of Magic by then..."
Wayne was speechless.
What bizarre logic.
What left him even more dumbfounded was Astoria lifting her little head to gaze at him with wide-eyed innocence:
"Luna makes such a good point. Did Fudge really conspire with Black?"
"Of course not." Wayne ruffled her hair. "Black's escape is the last thing Fudge wants right now."
"Haven't you read the Daily Prophet? His approval ratings have already dropped five percentage points."
Astoria nodded vaguely, though not entirely comprehending.
Although she thought the magazine had some valid points, she believed Wayne's statement must be correct.
Hermione was still trying to debate with Luna, attempting to correct her 'whimsical ideas', though with little success.
Meanwhile, Wayne idly flipped through this notorious issue of The Quibbler.
Well...
After reading it, he was slightly concerned about Mr Lovegood's mental state.
Even in the wizarding world where all sorts of oddities existed, The Quibbler was simply too outrageous...
The magazine's sole redeeming feature was correctly guessing that the reason behind Black's escape did indeed have something to do with Fudge.
If it hadn't been for spotting Peter Pettigrew as Scabbers in that Weasley family photo in the newspaper, Black would probably still be wallowing in depression at Azkaban...
The train left the city behind, speeding past golden wheat fields towards the distant Scottish Highlands.
Hermione had given up trying to reason with Luna – conversing with this girl was like talking to a brick wall, their wavelengths completely mismatched.
Wayne produced some delicacies prepared by Gardevoir, treating everyone to a hearty meal.
Ginny nearly teared up while eating, which puzzled Wayne.
"I remember Mrs Weasley being quite the cook. Why are you acting like you've never had a proper meal?"
"You forget we just returned from Egypt," Ginny rolled her eyes. "Mum barely had time to cook there, so we had to eat out. Absolutely dreadful."
Understanding dawned on Wayne.
Soon after the meal, Astoria slumped heavily against Wayne and fell fast asleep.
The other girls shot her looks brimming with envy and jealousy.
Currently, Astoria has the most legitimate claim on Wayne, given their engagement and the talk about future children.
In petty retaliation, Cho, Hermione and Penelope had deliberately eaten all the little heiress's favourite dishes earlier.
Even in sleep, the wealthy girl pouted, clinging tightly to Wayne's waist.
Before long, Percy's furious voice echoed outside the compartment – he'd evidently discovered the tampering with his badge.
A sharp knock followed.
"Enter!" Wayne called lazily. Percy's head appeared, his face as red as his hair from sheer frustration.
Spotting Ginny, he demanded, "Ginny, have you seen Fred and George?"
"No idea," Ginny rolled her eyes again. "They're definitely not here."
"If you see them, don't alert them. Come find me in the Prefect's carriage first – I'll give you pocket money." Percy wasn't stupid, knowing exactly which bait to dangle before continuing his hunt for the culprits.
"Pfft," Ginny snorted. "As if you have any money to spare? You can barely afford dating expenses."
Wayne couldn't help chuckling at this: "Is Percy's love life that expensive?"
"Obviously! Let me tell you..."
Ginny immediately launched into a torrent of Percy-related gossip. The girls perked up, initially just listening about Percy before the conversation evolved into a full-blown sharing session, voices rising in excited chatter.
Penelope knew the most scandals, being the oldest with exposure to the weirdest happenings.
Her tales left the younger girls utterly gobsmacked.
Worried the noise might disturb Astoria's sleep, Wayne quietly cast a Silencing Charm around her.
...
Outside the window, the scenery grew increasingly desolate. Darkening clouds cast gloomy shadows across the landscape.
Ron and Harry had just used their professor status to fend off Malfoy's taunting approach, though neither looked particularly pleased.
Even after driving him away, Malfoy's barbs had nearly shattered their composure – mocking Ron's hand-me-down robes and faux-concern about whether Harry could still afford Wayne's tutoring, offering to "generously lend him a hundred Galleons if needed."
Every word struck raw nerves.
Currently, Malfoy was riding high, having earned his parents' full approval.
As agreed, Malfoy demonstrated his academic progress from the past year to Lucius upon returning home for the holidays, to determine whether he should continue spending 'wasted money' on lessons with Wayne next term.
The simplest method was a duel.
In combat, his astonishing improvement thoroughly shocked Lucius – he even managed to burn Lucius's robes using magic taught by Wayne.
Rather than angering him, his son's 'insubordination' delighted Lucius Malfoy beyond measure.
His family had finally produced a genius!
Though Lucius had once been favoured by the Dark Lord among the Death Eaters, it wasn't due to his abilities but the Malfoy Family's substantial wealth...
To put it bluntly, the Malfoy Family was the Dark Lord's purse.
Merely a tool, never part of the inner circle.
Compared to Bellatrix, Dolohov, or young Barty, he'd always felt inferior.
His own talent was lacking, but his son's wasn't!
A second-year who could threaten a grown wizard – carelessness played a part, but it proved Draco's remarkable progress.
That summer, Draco became the family's darling.
Before the term began, Lucius generously provided two thousand Galleons – fifteen hundred for Wayne's tuition, the remaining five hundred as Draco's pocket money.
Such good fortune naturally compelled him to share it with Harry.
Unfortunately, Harry seemed unappreciative, driving him away alongside that eyesore Weasley.
After Malfoy left, the rain intensified, blurring the windows as darkness swallowed the outside world.
"Are we nearly there?" Ron asked uncertainly, sensing the train slowing.
Harry frowned. "Should be another hour or so."
"Maybe we're early today." Ron rubbed his stomach. "I'm already missing the school's chicken legs."
As he spoke, drool leaked from the corner of his mouth.
Harry rolled his eyes. "You just ate two Cauldron Cakes."
"Did I? Maybe my stomach forgot. Still starving."
The train slowed further until it ground to a complete halt.
Outside, wind and rain raged louder. Worse still, all interior lights extinguished. The sudden stop sent luggage crashing down with metallic clatters.
"What's happening... I feel oddly cold."
"Me too. Where's my jumper?"
"Damn it, stop clinging to my leg!"
Commotion rose from other compartments as Harry and Ron grew uneasy.
Ron wiped the window, pressing his face against it. "Something's boarding, I think?"
"Ugh... freezing." Ron jerked back as frost patterns bloomed across the glass.
"Quiet!" a hoarse voice cut through.
Lupin had finally awoken – Ron had nearly thought him dead earlier, given how soundly he'd slept through the chaos.
A white light flared. Harry retreated warily to the compartment door, wand drawn.
"Don't be alarmed. I'm your Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. Something's wrong here."
Lupin raised his hands in a placating gesture while silently admiring the boy.
Truly Potter's son – that vigilance and wand grip were identical to his father's.
"Precisely because you're the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor that I'm scared," Harry said without lowering his guard. "Put your wand away first."
Lupin: "???"
"I'm a professor."
"I nearly got killed by Defence Against the Dark Arts professors."
Harry paused before adding: "Twice, actually."
He turned to Ron: "Do you know where Wayne is? Let's go find him."
Having been saved by Wayne twice in two years, Harry might not have learned much else, but his skill at clinging to reliable allies had levelled up considerably.
Though uncertain about the current situation, he knew Wayne's vicinity was undoubtedly the safest spot on the train.
"I think he's in the next compartment. Ginny's there too."
"Let's go then." Harry turned to slide open the door.
Before he could exert any force, the door slowly opened on its own.
Under Lumos' illumination, Harry saw a towering, cloaked figure standing at the doorway, its face completely hidden beneath the hood.
Harry's gaze dropped to the greyish, slime-covered, spotty hand emerging from beneath the cloak, making his stomach churn violently.
The creature noticed Harry's stare and suddenly drew a rasping breath, emitting a guttural rattle.
An icy wave engulfed them. Harry felt suffocated, his vision swimming.
Before collapsing, he gritted his teeth and shouted: "Get Wayne!"
Then his eyes rolled back as he lost consciousness completely.
"Harry! Harry!" Ron cried in panic, though he wasn't as severely affected.
"Leave! There's nobody you want here!" Lupin pointed his wand at the Dementor.
But having apparently tasted something delicious, the Dementor's hunger intensified. Instead of retreating, it floated fully into the compartment.
Just as Lupin prepared to cast a repelling charm, a voice laced with icy calm cut through:
"Scram!"
Followed by an earth-shaking dragon's roar.