Snape's plan was very successful.
In the following Potions classes, he continued to target Harry while praising Dana, which caused Harry to gradually stop seeking out Dana in the Great Hall.
An eleven-year-old boy was indeed easy to manipulate.
But today was an exception.
Harry excitedly found Dana and said, "Dana, do you know? Flying lessons start on Thursday!"
Dana, who hadn't spoken to Harry for several days, was slightly surprised to see him approach. "Really? How do you know?"
"It's posted in the common room," Harry said, his face full of excitement. "Have you ever played with a flying broom when you were little?"
Dana shook his head. "No, I haven't. I lost my father when I was young, and it wasn't easy for my mother to raise me alone. There was no extra money to buy a flying broom, not even a toy."
Harry's expression softened. "Oh… I'm sorry. I didn't know you— I just thought such a happy thing needed to be shared with a good friend…"
It turned out that Harry, seeing Dana always alone while he himself was surrounded by friends, felt a little guilty. Comparing the two, Dana indeed seemed pitiful—despite earning Gryffindor over thirty points in the past two weeks, he still hadn't gained the full acceptance of his housemates.
Harry was kind at heart. He couldn't stand to see others in pain.
"You don't have to apologize, Harry. I'm not sad," Dana said, then pointed at Ron, who was waving from a distance. "Look, Ron's calling you."
Harry hesitated. "But Dana, you…"
"Go on," Dana interrupted with a small smile. "Ron is a very good friend. Don't let him down."
With that, Dana turned and walked toward the library.
He was glad that Harry was finally beginning to distance himself. The last thing Dana needed was distractions—he had his own revenge to focus on, and he couldn't afford unnecessary attachments.
Still, he had to admit, he was looking forward to flying lessons. In his past life, he had always imagined himself soaring through the sky on a broomstick.
Even though he could now transform into a bird and fly, it wasn't the same as flying on a broom.
It was like the difference between running and riding a motorcycle—two entirely different experiences.
With anticipation, the days seemed to crawl by.
Finally, Thursday arrived. Like the rest of the first-years, Dana was eager for the lesson.
It was strange—he had thought he was becoming indifferent, his emotions dulled and suppressed as they had been in Azkaban. But the excitement he felt today proved otherwise.
He was still alive. He could still feel.
At breakfast, the Great Hall buzzed with chatter about flying. Some of the stories were downright ridiculous—Draco Malfoy, for example, claimed he had once nearly crashed into a Muggle airplane while flying.
Dana noticed that only Hermione wasn't excited. Instead, she was clearly nervous, tirelessly trying to impart everything she had read from Quidditch Through the Ages to her classmates.
Unfortunately, no one really wanted to listen—except Neville, who was equally anxious. He clung to Hermione's words, hoping to learn something that would help him fly successfully later.
Their conversation was cut short by the arrival of the post owls. Neville received a Remembrall from his grandmother, which, of course, would later cause trouble.
But Dana was no longer paying attention. He steadied his thoughts and made his way to Charms class.
Yes, flying lessons weren't until the afternoon. The first-years still had to attend morning classes.
Though Charms was usually one of the more exciting subjects, most of the young wizards couldn't focus. Their minds were already on the brooms waiting for them outside.
Finally, it was half-past three.
Dana trailed behind his classmates as they descended the castle steps and onto the open lawn. Lying neatly on the ground were about twenty broomsticks, the sight of which made Dana's heart race.
At that moment, a sudden warmth spread across his chest.
Not excitement—something else.
The heat was coming from the two-way mirror that Mr. Borgin had given him.
Of all times, it had to be now.
Dana cursed internally. He had no choice but to find Harry.
"Harry, I'm feeling a little unwell. I need to go to the hospital wing. If the professor asks, please explain for me."
Without waiting for Harry's response, Dana turned and dashed back toward the castle.
He quickly found an empty corridor, transformed into his alias, Darko Daintes, and activated the two-way mirror.
Mr. Borgin's face appeared on the other side, looking as if he were in his shop.
"Thank Merlin, Mr. Daintes, you finally answered."
"What's wrong, Mr. Borgin?" Dana's tone was clearly impatient. He had been looking forward to this lesson—if the information wasn't important, he was going to make Borgin regret the interruption.
"Oh, did I disturb you, sir?" Borgin chuckled nervously. "I just wanted to deliver the news you requested as soon as possible. But I didn't check the time—usually, people are busy with important things at this hour! I will be more careful next time."
Dana exhaled, his irritation softening slightly. "Go on. What's the news?"
"We've located Hawkin Ricketts."
Hawkin Ricketts was the former Ministry of Magic employee who had processed his mother's request to retrieve him from Azkaban.
Dana's eyes sharpened. "Oh? Where is he?"
Borgin didn't delay. "He now resides in Chinatown, London, next to the Royal China Restaurant. House number 26 and a half, Baker Street."
Dana raised an eyebrow. That house number sounded like something out of a fantasy novel.
Borgin continued, "It took considerable effort to track him down, sir. Our informants weren't cheap. So, about the payment—our discounted rate is 1,500 Galleons. Your initial deposit of 1,000 won't quite cover it."
Dana replied without hesitation, "It's not convenient for me to meet you now. I'll come after Christmas. In the meantime, continue investigating the lead I asked for."
"Of course, sir. I will be waiting at the shop. I wish you all the best."
Dana closed the mirror and exhaled.
Borgin's efficiency was impressive. They had found Hawkin Ricketts far sooner than he had expected. And once he had Ricketts, he would have the name of the Ministry official Olybos Avery had bribed.
If Ricketts refused to talk?
Well, Azkaban had taught Dana plenty of ways to make people talk.
For now, though, he needed to get back to flying lessons.
But—damn it. He had told Harry he was feeling unwell and going to the hospital wing. He couldn't just reappear outside right away.
Frustrated, Dana slumped against the wall, counting the seconds.
Every moment dragged painfully.
Then, through the castle window, he spotted Professor McGonagall rushing across the lawn—and she was taking Harry Potter with her.
So Malfoy had thrown Neville's Remembrall, and Harry had caught it midair?
Dana must have missed Madam Hooch taking Neville to the hospital wing while he was talking to Borgin.
Wait—the hospital wing!
That's where he had said he was going!
If someone checked, he was in trouble.
He needed to make an appearance there—immediately.
End of the Chapter.
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