Halloween.
Hogsmeade was bustling with life.
As Douglas made his way through the village, he was greeted warmly by nearly every shopkeeper he passed. The proprietress of Honeydukes even came out with a dazzling array of sweets, beaming as she presented them.
"We heard about you at the start of term—the only Defence Against the Dark Arts professor to serve consecutive years in decades! Consider this a token of congratulations!"
Before Douglas could thank her, the Honeydukes owner called out from the doorway, his voice booming down the street, "Come one, come all! Try the ginger candies, dragon's beard candy, and winter melon sweets crafted by Professor Holmes himself back in his student days! Eat these, and you'll be as brilliant as Professor Holmes!"
He finished with a conspiratorial wink at Douglas, while the proprietress, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, smiled apologetically and hurried to drag her husband away from the door.
Douglas could only offer a helpless smile as a group of students turned to stare—especially the third-years, who looked especially bewildered by the unexpected sales pitch.
Spotting Harry in the crowd, Douglas waved him over.
"Uncle, what brings you here? Need me to pick up anything for you?" Harry asked.
Without missing a beat, Douglas dumped the pile of sweets into Harry's arms and pointed to the Ministry notice posted on the wall nearby.
"This is a sponsorship for the Charon Detective Society. You lot need to hurry up and get to the bottom of things. It's been ages and you still haven't produced any results. Just look at the chaos out there…"
Harry opened his mouth, thinking, All this chaos is Black's fault—what's it got to do with me?
"Actually, we have found something," Harry said, lowering his voice and glancing around. "For example, Black might be a werewolf… but we still don't understand the hint you gave us—the one on the Marauder's Map."
Douglas blinked. When had he ever given them a hint?
And hadn't the twins already uncovered Scabbers' true identity? How did the Marauder's Map end up with Harry again?
"How did you even get your hands on the Marauder's Map? You shouldn't need it at this point…"
The moment Douglas asked, Harry's face darkened. How had he gotten it? Well, a pile of Galleons had changed hands, that's how. Eager to change the subject, he blurted,
"We just don't understand why the Marauder's Map shows Scabbers as Peter Pettigrew—who's supposed to be dead. What does a rat have to do with any of this? We've had so many theories lately, but none of them fit. Hermione told me not to tell you yet, but I just think…"
He trailed off. He'd already heard from Lupin that the twins had asked to learn the Animagus Reversal Charm, which meant they'd figured out Scabbers' secret. Comparing notes…
Douglas shot Harry a look that was far from gentle. Good thing you're not my own son, he thought, or I'd really have to teach you a lesson. How could you miss such obvious clues and end up so far off track?
"Figure it out yourself. So many people and so many leads, and you've still managed to turn it all upside down. If you lot haven't cracked this before Christmas… heh."
With that, Douglas turned on his heel and strode away, leaving a very bewildered Harry behind.
As soon as Douglas left, Hermione and Ron hurried over from Honeydukes.
"Harry, the professor's so nice to you—he gave you all those sweets!" Hermione said.
"What did you say to him? He didn't look very happy," Ron added.
Harry glanced at the Ministry notice posted on the wall:
[ATTENTION CUSTOMERS: Unless otherwise notified, Dementors will patrol the streets of Hogsmeade daily from sunset. This measure is for the safety of Hogsmeade residents and will be lifted only after Sirius Black is apprehended. Please complete your shopping before sunset.]
"He wants us to finish this before Christmas…" Harry muttered.
As Douglas continued on, he passed Zonko's Joke Shop and spotted the Weasley twins and their friend Lee Jordan, each laden with armfuls of Zonko's products.
Since many of Zonko's items were banned at Hogwarts, the trio were recruiting younger students outside the shop, hoping to smuggle their purchases into the castle in small batches.
Douglas eyed them curiously. As far as he remembered, these three were never exactly flush with cash—how did they afford so much this time?
Before he could look away, George and Fred spotted him. The three exchanged sheepish grins, then darted into a nearby alley, arms loaded with contraband.
Douglas shook his head, bemused. He wasn't Filch—as long as they didn't use their joke products on him, he couldn't care less. The twins' and Lee Jordan's evasive reaction was a mystery.
When Douglas finally arrived at the Three Broomsticks, Professor McGonagall and the others were already gathered.
Madam Rosmerta greeted him with a dazzling smile, leading him to their table before heading off to fetch drinks.
Seated with McGonagall were Professor Flitwick, Hagrid, and Minister Fudge himself.
After the usual pleasantries, Madam Rosmerta returned, her tray laden with drinks.
"One small glass of violet water, four pints of mead, one soda with umbrella cherry syrup and ice, the Minister's redcurrant rum, and a bottle of Holmes wine…"
Everyone thanked her, and Douglas couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of the Holmes wine.
Fudge, eyeing the bottle with curiosity, turned to Madam Rosmerta.
"My dear Rosmerta, why don't you have a drink with us as well?"
She agreed cheerfully, but before she could fetch another glass, Douglas tapped his own. With a flicker of a duplication charm, the goblet split into two.
"Madam, would you care to try some Holmes wine with us? The glass will last for about four hours."
Madam Rosmerta blinked in surprise, then took a seat beside him.
"Thank you, Douglas! Is that wandless magic?"
Professor Flitwick peered at the glass, impressed.
"No, no, that's far more refined than ordinary wandless spells."
Fudge chimed in, laying it on thick.
"Truly worthy of Professor Holmes! Scrimgeour, Head of the Auror Office, has told me more than once—we should have recruited you into the Ministry the moment you graduated!"
Professor McGonagall gave a discreet cough.
Douglas smiled, smoothly steering the conversation toward business. "Minister, any progress on the missing Dementors? To prevent accidents, I've already banned students from casting the Patronus Charm inside the castle."
At this, Fudge's face clouded. He shifted his considerable bulk, glancing warily around as if afraid of eavesdroppers.
After the Dementor attack on Hogwarts, the Ministry had been swamped with frantic letters from parents. They'd had to run a string of explanations and promises in the Daily Prophet to calm everyone down. The truth—that over a dozen Dementors were missing—was something they dared not reveal, for fear of sparking panic.
Madam Rosmerta, ever the seasoned hostess, didn't quite follow the talk of missing Dementors, but she could certainly sense the Minister's discomfort. She joked,
"Speaking of Dementors, haven't the patrols gotten a bit overzealous? They come by every day now—I'm having nightmares every night! Minister, did you come here today to sort that out for us?"
A flicker of relief crossed Fudge's face. He lowered his voice,
"Oh, of course. In fact, we've always suspected Black is lurking somewhere around Hogwarts."
At these words, Professor McGonagall shot a look at Douglas, who gave a barely perceptible shake of his head. Fortunately, everyone's eyes were on Fudge, and their silent exchange went unnoticed.
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