Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 975: Harry and King’s Cross Station

“Harry, where are you planning to go after we get back?”

On the Hogwarts Express, Ron stared out the window at the scenery flashing by, murmuring the question almost to himself.

“Back to 12 Grimmauld Place, of course,” Harry replied. “Sirius is waiting for me. He said in his letter that he wants to open a shop with me in Diagon Alley.”

“That’s great,” Ron said. “You won’t have to go back to your aunt and uncle’s anymore.”

“Exactly,” Harry smiled.

Until now, his first stop during every holiday had always been Privet Drive in Little Whinging. Even last year, he stayed there for a month before the Order of the Phoenix escorted him out after he came of age.

Although that experience had eased his relationship with the Dursleys—Dudley’s attitude had changed quite a bit—if he had to go back this year, Uncle Vernon would probably still greet him with a scowl.

That family acted like they were allergic to wizards. As long as he carried a wand, there was no hope for real peace between them.

Luckily, he didn’t have to go back—Sirius was waiting.

Harry also turned to look out the window. For a moment, his anticipation for the future dulled the melancholy of graduation.

“I just heard you’re going to open a shop in Diagon Alley,” Ginny said, stepping into the compartment. “Does that mean youʼll be neighbors with Fred and George?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Harry replied, snapping out of his thoughts. “Sirius didn’t tell me the address, so I don’t know if it’s near theirs.”

“You’re definitely not far from them,” Hermione said confidently.

“Why not?”

“Are you really from a wizarding family?” Hermione gave him a look. “Or did you just not notice?”

“Notice what?” Ron said impatiently. “Can you be a bit clearer?”

“Weasleysʼ Wizard Wheezes is located deeper inside Diagon Alley, and the shops closer to the Leaky Cauldron are already occupied.”

“Clear enough now?”

Ron’s face turned slightly red. Honestly, he hadn’t noticed... Maybe it was because he rarely visited Diagon Alley.

Given the Weasley family’s situation, he only had one chance a year to go, and the route was always fixed. He was never allowed to wander freely.

Strictly speaking, he hadn’t necessarily been to Diagon Alley more often than Hermione.

“Alright, we’ve graduated. Can you two stop bickering?” Harry cut in, standing between them.

“So, what are you planning to sell?” Ginny asked, helpfully changing the subject.

“No idea,” Harry shook his head. “But I get the feeling Sirius... well, he’s not really cut out for business.”

“That can’t be,” Hermione said doubtfully. “Sirius is from the Black family—they’re incredibly wealthy. From what I know, the Blacks have their hands in all sorts of businesses in the wizarding world.

“For example, that massive magical botanical garden mentioned in fifth-year career guidance? That’s owned by the Black family.”

“The Black... magical botanical garden?” Ron looked at her, surprised. “How do you know that?”

“Maybe because I can read,” Hermione said dryly. “If you could too, you’d have noticed that the person who bought that garden 200 years ago was also named Black.”

Ron’s face turned even redder, but he stiffly defended himself, saying only Hermione would take career guidance seriously—no one paid attention to those little pamphlets...

His flustered expression made the others burst out laughing.

“Maybe it’s because Sirius moved in with my dad after graduating,” Harry said with a chuckle. “He really doesn’t have much of a knack for business. Remember the ice cream shop he opened in Diagon Alley last year to keep an eye on me?”

Hermione nodded.

She not only knew about it—she’d even been there once or twice.

“Sirius didn’t make a single Galleon. He ended up losing over a thousand.”

Clang!

Ron dropped his wizard chess set. The knight got up from the floor, limped over to Ron’s foot, cursed, drew his sword, and started jabbing at Ron’s boot.

“Ouch!” Ron yelped, instinctively kicking the piece away. It hit the floor and shattered.

But Ron didn’t care. He stared straight at Harry.

“You’re saying Sirius not only made nothing—he lost over a thousand Galleons?!”

“Probably more than that... but yeah, that’s about right,” Harry nodded.

Ron clicked his tongue.

That was a bit depressing... His dad’s annual salary was only around a thousand Galleons.

“Hard to believe, isn’t it? But it’s true,” Harry said. “Lupin was stunned for days—he looked like he’d lost a ton of weight.”

“What does this have to do with Professor Lupin?”

“Apparently, Sirius and Lupin bought the Screaming Ice Cream Parlor together.”

“They bought it...” Ginny blinked. “I don’t mean to gossip about Professor Lupin, but could he really afford that?”

“He borrowed it from Kyle. He has to pay it back,” Harry said. “It’s just... the past few years with Voldemort around—you know how bad business has been in Hogsmeade.”

“Oh...” Everyone else in the compartment nodded at the same time.

They couldn’t help but sympathize with Lupin. It really wasn’t good news.

“But Sirius already said he’d cover the loss,” Harry added.

“That’s why I keep saying—Sirius has no talent for business.”

“Honestly, I’d rather become a professional Quidditch player than open a shop in Diagon Alley. Oliver Wood told me he’d keep an eye out for any team that’s looking for a Seeker.

“But he also mentioned that Seekers aren’t exactly in high demand on professional teams. He suggested I consider becoming a Chaser instead, but I’ve never played that position, so I’ve been hesitant.”

Harry sighed, looking out the window. “Once I’m back, I plan to ask Sirius for advice—or maybe just dive into some intense Chaser training.”

“I think…” Ron looked at him and blurted out, “If you’re asking Sirius for advice, chances are he’ll just buy a team and make you the Seeker.”

Hermione and Ginny both nodded.

They didn’t know how many Galleons it would take to buy a team, but they were certain Sirius could afford it.

“Absolutely not,” Harry said, going pale.

He wanted to play professionally, but not in such a flashy way. He’d had enough of the “Chosen One” label—if he got stuck with another title, he’d lose his mind.

“You guys have to keep this secret. Don’t tell Sirius, I’m begging you.”

The group burst out laughing again.

By noon, the snack trolley rolled up to their compartment.

Harry nearly bought out the entire cart, saying it was payment for keeping his secret. He stacked the snacks high on the table.

“This is way too much—we’ll never finish it all!”

“It’s fine. You can take it home,” said Harry.

For a moment, he felt like he’d been transported back to his first ride on the Hogwarts Express. Back then, just like now, he’d bought one of everything off the cart.

Cauldron Cakes, Liquorice Wands, Chocolate Frogs... At the time, he thought they were the most delicious things he’d ever tasted.

Now, he was almost sick of them.

...

The compartment was noisy and filled with laughter. The train sped along until, at some point, it gradually slowed and came to a stop at King’s Cross Station.

Students poured off the train and headed for the platform.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and a few other seventh-years lingered at the back of the crowd.

They waited until the long line ahead of them disappeared and the bustling platform quieted before making their way to the magically concealed wall.

“Haha! I told you they’d be the last ones out. You didn’t believe me, Mum!”

Harry hadn’t even fully stepped through the barrier when he heard Fred’s voice.

“I didn’t say I didn’t believe you. In fact, you, Charlie, and Bill were exactly the same in your seventh year,” came Mrs. Weasley’s voice.

She hurried over and pulled Harry into a hug.

“Congratulations, dear—congratulations on graduating…”

Her voice trembled a little, as if she were remembering the first time she’d seen Harry.

It had also been at King’s Cross Station—a little boy in oversized clothes had run over to ask for directions.

Now that little boy had graduated.

Harry returned the hug and said sincerely, “Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.”

As he spoke, he instinctively looked up ahead.

Fred and George were both there, along with Bill.

Charlie had already returned to the dragon reserve in Romania, and Bill was staying in England for the time being because of his upcoming wedding to Fleur.

Only the three of them were present. Harry scanned the crowd but couldn’t find the person he most wanted to see.

“Where’s Sirius?” he couldn’t help asking.

“Oh, I was just about to tell you,” Mrs. Weasley said, guiding him forward. “He went to the Ministry of Magic.”

“What’s he doing there?” Harry asked.

His graduation was a big deal—if Sirius wasn’t here, it had to be for something even more important.

“He had something urgent to take care of…”

“Snape’s second hearing started,” Fred cut in before Mrs. Weasley could finish.

“After this one, they’ll finally decide whether he’s a Death Eater or one of Dumbledore’s.”

“What’s that got to do with Sirius?” Harry asked, puzzled.

“He’s probably off praying,” George said with a grin. “Praying Snape turns out to be a Death Eater.”

“Maybe Sirius is hoping to throw him into Azkaban himself.”

“Oh, stop it, you two…” Mrs. Weasley gave them a stern look, then turned to Harry with a sigh.

“Well, since you already know, I won’t keep it from you.”

“At the last hearing, Snape showed a memory... something related to your mother. That’s why Sirius went.”

“If you want to go too, you’d better hurry,” Fred said. “The hearing’s not over yet—we can get you to the Ministry.”

“Assuming you have a way to get into the courtroom,” George added.

Harry froze for a moment, instinctively ready to agree.

But the next second, he suddenly remembered—he had already seen that memory.

Snape had handed it to him personally the night Voldemort attacked Hogwarts.

Harry’s expression was complicated.

If the memory was real, it clearly proved that Snape had been working for Dumbledore—and he had helped Harry in many ways.

But on the other hand, it was also Snape who had leaked Sybill Trelawney’s prophecy, leading Voldemort to target his family.

Harry didn’t know how to face Snape. Should he still hate him? His feelings were more tangled than ever.

He even found himself thinking—it might’ve been easier if Snape had just died in the war. Then at least he wouldn’t have to struggle with all this...

“Harry, Harry...” The sound of his name being called snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked up to see everyone staring at him.

“What are you thinking about, Harry?” George asked. “Come on, decide already. The hearing started an hour ago. Any later and you won’t make it.”

“Ah, it’s fine,” Harry said with a forced smile. “I’ve already seen that memory. No need for me to go this time.”

“You’ve seen it?” Fred rushed over, eyes lighting up like lanterns.

“Quick—tell us, what was in that memory?”

“We’re dying of curiosity…”

“We’ve been dreaming about attending this hearing…”

“But we weren’t invited, so we can’t get into the courtroom…”

“Dad insisted we come pick you up…”

“He doesn’t even trust us!”

Fred and George flanked Harry, trying to pry the details out of him.

Just as Harry was feeling cornered, a shadow loomed behind them.

“You two, that’s enough! Stop pestering Harry about it!”

Mrs. Weasley reached out and grabbed them both by the ears, yanking them sharply upward...

“Ow! That hurts, Mum—!”

“Let go, Mum! I’ve only got one ear left!”

Fred and George rose onto their toes with a yelp.

Hearing the words “one ear,” Mrs. Weasley softened slightly and let go.

But she still warned, “If you ask Harry anything else that puts him on the spot, I’ll twist off the other one. Got it?”

“Got it, got it...”

“We won’t ask again.”

The two of them huddled together, rubbing their ears, grumbling under their breath.

Mrs. Weasley pretended not to hear and patted Harry’s arm.

“All right, dear. Since you’re not going to the Ministry, let’s head home. How about The Burrow? Sirius will be there later.”

“That sounds great,” Harry said cheerfully.

Just then, Hermione’s parents arrived. They agreed to meet at The Burrow later, then each group went their own way.

Harry followed the Weasleys out of the station to the car parked near the corner.

But just as he was about to get in, he paused, eyes fixed on a nearby parking lot.

“What’s wrong?” Ron looked over too but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

“It’s nothing,” Harry said.

He had spotted a chubby, middle-aged Muggle stepping out from behind a car, talking on the phone. With a small smile, Harry got into the car.

Of course, it was a mistake... Like Uncle Vernon would actually come to pick him up.