Inside the Shrieking Shack, a black dog crouched by the window, watching the Aurors in the distance staring this way. Its eyes glimmered with thought.
Those Aurors had no intention of entering the haunted house. They did not even dare look too closely at the infamous building, so naturally they could not see the black dog hidden in the dim room, much less the red-eyed raven crouched beside it.
"Anyway, with Aurors patrolling around here lately, you don't need to worry about Raichel wandering into this area," the raven said, turning to the black dog in a human voice.
At the raven's words, the black dog's face showed a very human kind of lingering fear.
He glanced at the departing Aurors, then shifted back into Sirius.
"You've got to be kidding. Do you really think that monster would be afraid of those useless Aurors?" Sirius was far too agitated, the way he flung his arms around laying bare the unease in his heart.
Just thinking about that monster still made Sirius shudder. He had only narrowly escaped death. If that thief Mundungus had not suddenly shown up and blundered into Raichel's ambush, the one who would have died here would have been Sirius himself.
He had seen it with his own eyes. That rather handsome young man had transformed without warning into a monster and eaten Mundungus's head raw.
Bloody hell. It had nearly scared the dog out of him.
"He may be strong, but he isn't brainless. Picking a fight with the Ministry of Magic wouldn't do him any good," said Harris Raymons, the raven.
That offered Sirius a tiny shred of comfort. He let out a long breath and said to Harris Raymons, "All right. Then I suppose I've been lucky. Not only did I escape death, I even bought myself a little breathing room."
"Indeed. That Mundungus fellow showed up at exactly the right time." Harris Raymons felt that the coincidence was a bit too perfect, but he did not dwell on it and continued, "I came here this time because of that man. He's dangerous. I need you to warn someone about him, and tell that person Raichel has set his sights on him."
"Warn someone? Who?" Sirius asked with a frown.
He did not want to complicate things any further. At the end of the day, he already had more than enough trouble on his hands.
There was that strange man who controlled plants, then this fellow who turned into a raven, and then that monster.
Any one of them was troublesome enough on their own, let alone some new person tied up with all of them.
Seeing Sirius hesitate, Harris Raymons thought for a moment and said, "Actually, this is for your own good. If you do that person a favor, he'll give you quite a bit of help in return."
That made Sirius waver.
"Who is it?" Sirius asked. "And how can you be sure he'll help me, or that he's even capable of helping me?"
"From the way he acts, and from his reputation at Hogwarts, he's someone with very clear principles. He repays kindness with kindness, and grudges with grudges," Harris Raymons said confidently.
"Hogwarts... Is he a professor there?" Sirius asked.
Hearing that description, Sirius started mentally reviewing the professors and former schoolmates he knew from Hogwarts.
Maybe the person Harris Raymons meant was someone he knew. If so, Sirius could use the opportunity to explain his situation properly, which would let him approach Harry and find Peter Pettigrew.
"Huh?" Harris Raymons froze for a moment. "No, he's a student."
"A student?" Sirius sounded disappointed. Even a seventh-year student would be a generation younger than him. There was no way he would know him.
"All right then. What House is he in, and what year is he?" Sirius asked with a silent sigh.
"He's a Hufflepuff," Harris Raymons said.
"Hufflepuff... students from that House are usually pretty mediocre, aren't they? So he's some kind of rare genius?" Sirius muttered. "He's nearly graduated, right?"
"Graduated? Not even close. He's only in third year this year," Harris Raymons said.
"Th-third year? Then he's still a child!" Sirius was dumbfounded.
He had never imagined that the person Harris Raymons said could help him would be a child the same age as his godson.
"Don't underestimate him. In both brains and ability, he's far beyond a black dog like you who got fooled by a rat for over ten years," Harris Raymons said carelessly.
The veins on Sirius's forehead bulged. He wanted nothing more than to wring the neck of that sharp-tongued raven, but the thought that he still needed this bird for a few things deflated him somewhat.
Then Sirius suddenly thought of that mysterious man who controlled plants and realized he was not entirely without ways to get back at this arrogant raven.
"By the way, we've been talking all this time and I still don't know your name," Sirius said.
"Just call me Crow. You don't need to know my name," Harris Raymons said deliberately, having keenly sensed Sirius's bad intentions.
Really cautious, isn't he.
Sirius curled his lip.
...
"Thank you very much for your explanation, Professor Babbling," Leonard said politely in the Ancient Runes professor's office.
"You're too polite, Mr. William," Bathsheda Babbling said with a smile. "I like diligent students. If you have questions, you may come to me anytime."
"However..." She paused, then continued, "In future, please pay more attention in class. Your knowledge of runes is solid, but you didn't retain a single one of the study methods I explained during the lesson."
Hearing words of mild criticism, Leonard, who had never been scolded by a professor before, felt both awkward and mildly indignant.
What was he supposed to do? He had not even attended that Ancient Runes lesson. How was he meant to know what study methods the professor had covered?
Sure, someone had attended the class in his place, but that substitute could not exactly pour the knowledge straight into his brain.
Looks like he would have to pay closer attention to what classes he was taking each day from now on. Missing a crucial bit of course content would be a real loss.
Leaving the Runes professor's office, Leonard looked out at the midday sunlight and let out a sigh.
"Damn it. I still have no idea what exactly is stopping me from going back to the past."
If it really was the Ancient Sprout, then he was out of luck. Its symbiotic ability was an innate passive trait, not the kind of symbiosis granted by the system.
The difference was simple. The latter was like clothing, something you could put on or take off whenever you wanted. The former was like an extra limb.
No one had ever heard of someone taking off their own arm and stuffing it into a pocket.