Chapter 274: Nervous Harry
"Harry! So Voldemort is probably dead!" Ron exclaimed in surprise.
The Doraemon and Dog Kingdom comic in his hand slipped to the floor.
"Oh no! My book—this is the newest edition! I went all the way to Diagon Alley and grabbed it the day before yesterday! Damn Voldemort!" Ron groaned in distress.
In the comic on the ground, Luke Skywalker was once again acting cute with Doraemon, trying to keep the puppy.
"Ron, didn't you hear what Harry said?"
"According to Lupin and Sirius's analysis, our next Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is very likely to be a Horcrux."
"And Voldemort must have other Horcruxes besides the locket and that professor. Otherwise, Dumbledore would've destroyed that one directly, and Voldemort would've been finished," Draco said, frowning.
"Okay, okay, but Luke is so pitiful—he can't even keep a puppy. Is Padmé really his biological mother? Maybe Luke's actually an orphan like Harry and was just adopted," Ron said thoughtfully.
After hearing that Voldemort might not be dead, Ron casually shifted his attention back to the plot of Doraemon and Dog Kingdom.
"Ron! I have parents! What orphan?!" Harry, usually good-tempered, couldn't help snapping at Ron's careless words.
If he didn't know Ron well, he'd think Ron was deliberately mocking him.
"Ron, you're great in every way—except your mouth," Draco said dryly.
"Ah, right..." Ron's ears turned red. He looked at Harry awkwardly. "Harry—I—I didn't mean it. I just wasn't paying attention."
"Come on, Ron, I know what kind of person you are." Harry waved his hand dismissively, signaling that he didn't mind.
At the same time, he gave Draco a wink—
Honestly, maybe it would be better if Ron couldn't talk sometimes.
After a pause, Ron suddenly said, "So, Dumbledore's coming to your birthday tomorrow, Harry?" His blue eyes widened.
"You just realized that?"
"Dumbledore came last time, too—when we were at Harry's house," Draco said, unimpressed.
"This is totally different! It's Harry's birthday!" Ron insisted indignantly, as if it were his birthday being ruined.
Besides, if Dumbledore came, it wouldn't be much fun.
"Dumbledore isn't really a killjoy," said Harry softly.
As the first decent wizard Harry had met—aside from Hagrid and his parents—he held special affection for Dumbledore.
But when Draco's earlier suspicions came to mind, Harry couldn't help but wonder if there was some truth to them.
Dumbledore didn't try to make people worship him, but his sheer reputation did it for him. Knowing all the things Dumbledore had done, how could Harry not admire him?
"I've never really celebrated my birthday before," Harry admitted.
"As you all know, this will be my first proper birthday."
"Besides Dumbledore, I hope Hagrid, Alexander, and everyone from our dorm can come—and your parents too," Harry added shyly, rubbing the back of his messy hair.
"Harry, I don't think that's appropriate for my parents," Draco said with a dry laugh.
He could already imagine how disappointed his parents would be if they attended.
After all, they were Death Eaters, and everyone in the British wizarding world knew it.
"Yeah, it's not really suitable for our family either," Ron said awkwardly. "Regulus is here this time, and Sirius definitely doesn't want that known publicly. Even though we're relatives, well..."
Harry nodded understandingly. "I get it. It's probably not possible with Regulus around anyway."
---
The next morning came quickly.
Harry woke up groggily from a massive carved bed.
To be honest, the bed was too soft—so soft it made him feel weak.
Long velvet draperies covered the high windows, and the chandelier had serpentine sculptures that almost made Harry want to hiss.
It reminded him—unpleasantly—that he was a Parseltongue.
Still, people like Professor Snape and Draco proved that not everyone from Slytherin was unpleasant.
At most, it was a house made up of annoying people and nice people who looked like annoying people.
Parseltongue, after all, was the most iconic gift of one of Hogwarts's founders.
Even so, Harry couldn't shake off his discomfort.
His gaze shifted to the wall sockets—unlike Muggle ones, they were filled with candle stubs, wax drippings hardening like icy crystals.
Strange. After all his time in the wizarding world, Harry found himself missing the Muggle world.
Magic was wonderful, but some aspects of wizard life still felt… medieval.
Shaking his head, Harry spotted something at the head of his bed—a beautifully embroidered dress robe.
It was dark green, with intricate gold thread woven into the cuffs and collar.
Underneath it lay a parchment note:
> It's your birthday today. I picked out a dress robe for you—I thought the color would bring out your eyes even better.
—Your favorite,
Sirius
"A dress robe?" Harry murmured.
He still wasn't fully used to wizarding customs, but this was probably something like a suit—formal wear for special occasions.
And it could only have been placed there by Kreacher.
Though not as bold as most house-elves, Kreacher still carried out his duties silently, like the elves at Hogwarts—working in the shadows, never seen.
Harry smiled faintly and got dressed.
When he opened the carved door, he was met with an explosion of colors—flowers and plants of every kind.
Ivy covered the silver satin walls, and wind-chime-like blossoms hung from above, softly chiming:
> 🎵 Happy Birthday, Harry Potter! 🎵
Even the portraits of the Black ancestors on the walls, usually scowling, were smiling stiffly under Sirius's orders.
Harry glanced at the floral-decorated clock—half past six.
That explained the silence.
The others must still be asleep.
He'd woken early—too excited to stay in bed.
Harry took a deep breath and walked toward the living room.
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(End of Chapter 274)
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