Black set down the magazine and wandered over to the window, gazing out toward the Quidditch pitch. Suddenly, he asked, "I heard from some Hufflepuff students last night that you donated a whole batch of new Nimbus brooms to Hufflepuff. Is that why they won the match last year?"
Douglas replied with mock gravity, "Sirius, that kind of thinking just isn't right. It wasn't the new brooms that won them the match—they were always talented enough. Otherwise, why didn't Slytherin, who also had new brooms, take the cup?"
At that, Sirius brightened up, then grinned, "So, do you think I should send a batch of Nimbus 2001s to Gryffindor as well? And maybe a Firebolt for Harry, just for good measure?"
Douglas shrugged, "The Black family's loaded—if you want to, go ahead. But I'd suggest you wait until your name's cleared and you can give them to Gryffindor out in the open. Otherwise, with you still a wanted man, Professor McGonagall won't be able to brag about it to anyone. Imagine how miserable she'd be."
Sirius stopped short, looking genuinely stumped.
—
Sunday brought the confirmation of the first batch of Detective Society members.
Harry had wanted to apply for a dedicated club classroom, but Hermione stopped him. Ever since she'd discovered the Room of Requirement, she'd pored over every scrap of information about Hogwarts Castle, but there was no mention of such a room anywhere. Still, she reasoned, if there was a correct way to open it, surely others had stumbled upon it before.
Once, while resting in the Room of Requirement and working on her Potions essay, Hermione had been startled to find that, simply by thinking of brewing, the cozy nook transformed—half the room expanded, revealing sturdy old tables and a full set of potion-making equipment, as if it had always been there. The discovery amazed her. Later experiments proved the room couldn't conjure up Muggle items, but it could become a washroom, a library, or just about anything else she truly needed.
Originally, Hermione had wanted to use the Room of Requirement as the Detective Society's headquarters. But with Draco Malfoy joining, she instinctively didn't want him to know about it. More importantly, sticking with the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom meant they could always borrow Douglas's name to keep troublemakers in check.
—
At two o'clock on Sunday afternoon, the inaugural meeting of the Hogwarts Charon Detective Society was held in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.
Harry Potter, as president, and vice presidents Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger sat at the head table. The new core members gathered by House.
Each House took turns with introductions. The Weasley twins—George and Fred—had everyone in stitches. Notably, Slytherin was represented by only one successful applicant: Draco Malfoy, who sat alone, drawing every eye in the room.
After the intros, President Potter gave a quick overview of the society's purpose, encouraging everyone to participate enthusiastically. Vice President Weasley shared the club's goals and expectations: a passion for detective work, a willingness to devote themselves to Hogwarts, strong teamwork, helpfulness, open communication, respect for others' opinions, and the courage to rise to new challenges.
Aside from a few snickers and eye-rolls, most members offered warm applause.
Finally, Vice President Granger summed up, "The Charon Detective Society may be new, but it has limitless potential waiting to be discovered..."
When the leadership finished, George and Fred grabbed some pastries and chimed in, "Oh, you forgot to thank someone." "Professor Holmes's butler, Mr. Dobby—what a spread! These pastries are brilliant..."
Laughter rippled through the room. All eyes turned to Draco, whose face had gone positively green.
With a cold huff, Draco fished five Galleons from his pocket. "Didn't you say we could post tasks after joining?"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged glances, then straightened up. Harry nodded, "Of course. I was hoping to be the first to post a task as president, but as our only Slytherin member, I'll let you have the honor."
Draco sneered, "Then I suppose I should thank you, President Potter. In that case, I won't hold back.
For five Galleons, I'd like everyone to help me investigate the relationship between the famous savior Harry Potter and the fugitive Sirius Black. Anyone up for the challenge?"
Though he said "everyone," he never took his eyes off Harry.
Harry blinked, then glanced at Ron and Hermione—both were barely suppressing laughter. He nearly lost it himself.
Before any of the trio could reply, Ginny slammed her hand on the table. "Malfoy, are you just here to stir up trouble?"
Draco shot Ginny a glance, then smirked at Harry, "Oh, your little girlfriend's getting nervous..."
That did it. The other three Weasleys at the table looked ready to leap across it. If not for friends holding them back, Malfoy might have been hexed on the spot.
Suddenly, Draco realized his mistake: he'd gotten carried away, forgetting his two burly sidekicks hadn't been invited to the meeting. Everyone here was at least friendly with Harry, and now they were all on their feet, glaring daggers at him.
He instinctively took a step back, raising his voice, "So, is anyone taking the job or not?"
Ron looked at Harry, who gave a tiny nod.
Stepping forward, Ron held out his hand, "I'll take it!"
Draco Malfoy sneered at Harry, "I told you before, you need to learn who your real friends are. All this for just five Galleons..."
He trailed off, cowed by the number of freckled redheads in the room.
Everyone else stared at Ron in shock, then at Harry. But Harry's face only showed a hint of amusement—no surprise at all. To most, it looked like Ron had just stabbed his best friend in the back.
Draco tossed the coins to Ron, "Technically, I should pay you after the job's done, but considering how broke you are..."
Ron cut him off, pocketing the coins. "No need. It's just a few words."
Draco frowned, "What?"
Harry spoke up, a cold smile on his lips, "Sirius Black, the fugitive, was close with my parents. That's why he's my godfather. That's what you wanted to know, isn't it, Malfoy?"
Draco Malfoy froze, eyes wide in shock, "You already knew? But my father said only people in the Ministry of Magic knew about that..."
He turned to Ron, realization dawning.
That set off a round of dramatic groans from George and Fred.
"Favouritism!" "My Galleons!"
Ron turned back, grumbling, "We agreed I'd take this task, so why did you answer? Fine, you get three coins, but that's it."
Harry slung an arm around Ron's shoulder, "Keep them all. You'll need more than three Galleons to split between you two..."
Ron looked at him, puzzled.
Behind them, Hermione applauded, "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy, for your generous funding. And thank you, Vice President Ron, for your selfless spirit."
The others, not quite following, joined in the applause—everyone except Draco.
Hermione whispered to Ron, "Keep one Galleon for yourself. Use the rest to buy sweets for everyone later—don't forget, this is basically free money."
Ron hesitated, then nodded, "When Hogsmeade opens up, I'll buy everyone some treats..."
A chorus rose up from the crowd:
"Oh, our little brother's all grown up!" "He's buying snacks for his big brothers now!"
Other students joined in, "Thanks, little brother Ron!" "If George and Fred say so, I'll be your brother too—reluctantly." "And a sister! Ron, you're always welcome in Ravenclaw!"
Draco just stood there, dumbfounded. He never imagined anyone would have leaked that information to Harry.
Clearly, Harry had known all along—and yet he'd never gone after Black for a duel. That just wasn't very Gryffindor, was it?
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