Eric’s words drew complicated looks from everyone present.
Tom slapped a hand to his forehead.
The thing he’d been most worried about had finally happened.
Then again, if Eric had managed to witness a scene like this without saying anything, he wouldn’t have been the Eric Tom knew.
Harry, meanwhile, was completely lost.
He had spent the entire summer shut away on Privet Drive by his family.
Aside from his two best friends, Ron and Hermione, he had no other source of information about the wizarding world.
So he still knew nothing about Sirius Black and had absolutely no idea what Eric was talking about.
Fudge, on the other hand, stared fixedly at Eric, both shocked and furious.
He was beginning to bitterly regret telling Eric so much about Black earlier.
Admittedly, if he hadn’t, he might never have been able to justify bringing a squad of Aurors to Diagon Alley in the first place.
But fundamentally, Fudge had never intended to let Harry know about Sirius Black.
Harry might read about Black’s escape in the newspapers within the next few days, but at least that wouldn’t tell him about Black’s connection to his father.
Yet with those two sentences, Eric had practically announced that Black had something to do with Harry.
That was what truly shocked Fudge.
During his earlier conversation with Eric, he hadn’t mentioned the connection between Black and Harry even once.
So how in Merlin’s name had Eric linked the two together?
Fudge couldn’t understand it.
Very few people knew that Sirius Black and Harry’s father, James Potter, had once been best friends.
Most were people who had personally lived through the war or those who had known the pair during their school days.
Looking at Eric’s age, Fudge wouldn’t believe for a second that the boy had lived through that war.
And now that Eric had planted the idea in Harry’s head, Merlin only knew what the boy might do.
Harry had only just finished running away from home.
If he suddenly learned that the man who had betrayed his parents was still at large, perhaps an ordinary young wizard could still be kept under the control of Fudge and the Ministry.
But this was Harry Potter.
Over the past few years, Fudge had learned more than enough about Harry’s exploits through various channels.
Facing a basilisk alone.
Venturing into the Forbidden Forest.
Confronting Dark wizards…
Each incident was more astonishing than the last.
Harry had experienced more than plenty of seventh-years.
Put kindly, he was exceptionally courageous.
Put less kindly, Harry Potter was reckless.
The sort of reckless boy who had very little idea of his own limits and charged headlong into danger on sheer hot-blooded determination.
Worse still, his status as the Boy Who Lived had earned him Dumbledore’s particular attention.
Whatever Harry got up to, Dumbledore, as Headmaster, never seemed particularly inclined to object.
Which meant Fudge couldn’t exactly object either.
At least, not openly.
If he wanted to remain secure in his position as Minister for Magic, he still needed the support of Dumbledore and Hogwarts.
As Minister, Fudge had to take that into consideration.
He couldn’t simply do whatever he liked with Harry.
The more he thought about it, the more painfully obvious it became that if Harry found out about Black and caused yet another disaster, there really wasn’t much Fudge could do to stop him.
Fudge couldn’t help rubbing his forehead as well.
His head hurt.
It genuinely hurt.
“What are you talking about?
Who’s Black?” Harry asked in confusion.
Then he frowned.
“No, more importantly, who are you?” Harry stared blankly at Eric, a boy he had never seen before.
Eric looked even younger than Harry.
Judging by his appearance, he seemed like he ought to be a Hogwarts student too, but Harry had never seen him at school.
Before Eric could answer, Fudge stepped forward and blocked Harry’s view of him.
“If you don’t mind, Eric, I’d like to speak with Harry privately.” Then he lowered his head and forced a smile at Harry.
“Don’t listen to him, Harry.
Aren’t you concerned about what happened to the aunt you inflated?
I’ll explain everything you need to know.” Seeing how hard Fudge was struggling to suppress his anger, Eric rose without the slightest concern.
“Of course, Minister.
I imagine travelling on the Knight Bus can hardly be described as pleasant, particularly for a young wizard who’s just run away from home.” “Good night, then, Harry.” Smiling, Eric walked past their stunned expressions and headed upstairs.
He didn’t forget to bid Tom good night as he passed him at the foot of the staircase.
Fudge’s expression changed.
A stabbing pain seemed to pulse through his head.
He couldn’t tell whether it was Eric’s attitude or the way the boy spoke so casually while somehow landing every word directly on the truth.
Fortunately, Harry called out to Eric before Fudge finally lost his temper.
The breath Fudge had been holding suddenly escaped, and a wave of relief spread through his body.
Otherwise, he seriously suspected he might have exploded in the next second.
“Wait!
Your name’s Eric, right?
How did you know I ran away from home?” Harry shouted after Eric, who was already halfway up the stairs.
Eric stopped and turned around with a smile.
“Simple deduction.” “Simple deduction?” Harry finally couldn’t stand it any longer.
He pulled free of Fudge’s grip, hurried forward, and demanded, “Who exactly are you?
And what does that Black person you mentioned have to do with me?” Harry wasn’t stupid.
When he’d climbed off the Knight Bus earlier, Fudge hadn’t been the only person waiting to meet him.
There had also been several witches and wizards behind the Minister, dressed in long coats and robes.
They were Aurors.
Harry knew that much.
Even the Muggle Prime Minister wouldn’t travel everywhere alone.
So there was nothing particularly strange about the Minister for Magic arriving in Diagon Alley accompanied by several Aurors.
Especially if, as Eric had claimed, their presence had something to do with this man named Black.
A great many things had happened today, and Harry didn’t know all the details.
But he did have at least a basic understanding of his own importance.
A third-year Hogwarts student running away from home was nowhere near serious enough to make the Minister for Magic and several fully armed Aurors personally wait for him.
That simply wasn’t realistic.
Combined with what Eric had just said, even Harry was beginning to realise that something didn’t add up.
“You were raised in a Muggle household,” Eric said from the stairs, looking down at the people below.
“No matter how careless your guardians might be, they wouldn’t agree to let you come to Diagon Alley alone.
Besides, we’re nowhere near the start of term yet.” “I’m around your age, Harry.
I understand fairly well what boys our age tend to think.” “They’re usually enthusiastic and full of energy.
But they’re also very proud.” “I don’t know what you did today, but the only way you could escape your guardians’ control would be to sneak away on your own, wouldn’t it?” “You still don’t have that much contact with the wizarding world, and you don’t have a broomstick with you.
Travelling by Floo certainly wouldn’t have been one of your options.” Eric glanced towards Fudge.
“And although the Minister over there claimed he came here because of my situation, the complete lack of concern he showed while speaking to me made that rather difficult to believe.” “If anything, it proved that his real objective was someone else.” “If you really did come here aboard the Knight Bus, Harry, then I’d wager the Minister knew where you were long before you arrived.” “Perhaps it was the conductor who informed them.
Perhaps the driver.
I don’t know.” “But considering how closely the Ministry watches you, they would certainly have received word that a young boy carrying luggage had boarded the bus alone.” “Which is why the Minister arrived here early to wait for you.” Eric’s smile deepened slightly.
“Taking all of that into account, along with the major piece of news that’s about to appear in the papers, there’s only one reasonable conclusion.” “Minister Fudge is terrified that Sirius Black might find you before the Ministry does.” Eric looked directly at Fudge.
“Am I right, Minister?” Seeing the almost-smile on Eric’s face, Harry couldn’t help turning to study Fudge’s expression.
He had never seen anyone look quite that dreadful before.
If looks could kill, Harry was fairly certain Eric would already have died ten thousand times over.