Chapter 257: Farewell Letter
Happy times always seem to pass the fastest.
Especially when everything is finally going well—after several days of secret observation, Ginny had finally confirmed that the incident in Ron's room had been a misunderstanding.
Only Fred and George still brought it up from time to time, grinning mischievously whenever Harry or Alexander walked by.
About a week after arriving at the Burrow, on a bright, sunny morning, Harry received a letter from Sirius.
It was because of this letter that they suddenly remembered someone who had almost been forgotten—
the house-elf, Kreacher.
To avoid being ordered around by Harry, Kreacher had disappeared completely over the past several days, refusing to show himself or even speak.
---
"Kreacher, where have you been these days?"
"And how do you even eat or sleep?" Ron asked curiously.
"Kreacher does not answer the questions of a pure-blood traitor's son," the elf muttered, head bowed.
"Kreacher, answer Ron's question—and don't call him that," Harry said firmly.
Kreacher's tone turned resentful.
"Kreacher can only listen to Harry Potter. These are the orders of the prodigal. Poor Mistress... Kreacher can only obey."
"Kreacher has been hiding near Harry Potter. As long as Harry Potter forgets about Kreacher, Kreacher need not follow orders."
Harry frowned. "Then what about food?"
"Kreacher catches his own food," the elf said reluctantly.
Ron blinked. "But we still have a lot of chickens in the yard…"
As the saying goes, children from poor families grow up early. Ron might not be the most mature person, but he was well aware of how many chickens his family owned.
Kreacher sighed heavily.
"Kreacher, the fallen servant of his old master, has already sunk low enough. Kreacher ate from your kitchen the first night—he had no choice but to follow Harry Potter's commands. Since then, Kreacher catches mice, frogs, and bugs to eat."
Harry's expression softened.
"Kreacher, I order you to eat proper food with the Weasleys for lunch today. No refusals allowed."
Although Harry pitied him, he also knew better than to show it openly—
the elf would only take it as an insult and possibly punish himself.
---
"Noon today? Are you leaving?" Ron suddenly asked, poking his head out from under his orange blanket.
He had gone back to sleeping in his own bed now, though without the ghoul's nightly banging noises, he found it strangely quiet.
"Are we leaving?" Draco's muffled voice came from inside the tent. His pale head popped out moments later, his blond hair in disarray.
Harry nodded. "Yeah. There's a letter from Sirius—Kreacher brought it."
He unfolded the parchment and read aloud:
---
Dear Harry,
I'll come to the Weasleys' house to pick you three up this afternoon.
You can tell Arthur and Molly in advance.
Also, Dobby has already got a job with Dumbledore.
By the way, there's a new friend at my place that I want you to meet.
Your dear Sirius.
---
Draco's eyes brightened.
"Does this mean I'll finally get to see the house where my mother grew up?" he asked eagerly.
Ron frowned. "Wait, how come I didn't see any owl deliver that?"
Harry shrugged. "Sirius probably did that on purpose. He knew Mrs. Weasley wouldn't easily let us leave."
"But it'll be different if you tell her yourself," Alexander said with a teasing smile.
Draco tilted his head. "Who do you think the new friend is?"
"Maybe it's that crazy elf, Dobby?" Ron guessed.
"I knew Dumbledore wouldn't hire an elf who demanded wages."
He sounded more confident the more he talked and stood up from bed proudly—
only for Harry to frown at him in disbelief.
"Ron… I literally just read in the letter that Dobby already got a job with Dumbledore."
Draco sighed, rubbing his forehead. Even after all this time, Ron's occasional cluelessness still caught him off guard.
He was starting to wonder how he'd ever thought Ron might secretly be a cunning schemer once.
"Maybe it's Lupin," Harry said after a pause.
"Who's Lupin?" Ron quickly asked, pretending to have forgotten.
Alexander chuckled quietly. "Your dad's old friend, remember?"
---
About half an hour later, Harry, Ron, Draco, and Alexander went downstairs for breakfast.
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were already seated at the table with Ginny, who gave Harry a quick glance before pretending to butter her toast.
Harry clutched the letter tightly beneath his robes, so nervous he didn't even notice Mrs. Weasley offering him a slice of bread.
"What's wrong, Harry?" Mrs. Weasley asked kindly.
She glanced toward Ginny, suspecting her daughter had something to do with Harry's distracted expression. Ginny, however, just looked puzzled and innocent.
"It's not about Ginny," Harry said quickly, reading the look in Mrs. Weasley's eyes.
Both Ron and Mr. Weasley looked confused, but before they could ask, Mrs. Weasley shot them a sharp glare that silenced them on the spot.
"It's a letter from Sirius," Harry finally admitted softly.
Mrs. Weasley's warm expression vanished. Her hands trembled slightly as she piled extra fried eggs on Harry's plate—as though afraid he'd leave underfed.
"When?" she asked in a low voice.
"Sirius is coming at noon today," Harry said nervously.
Fred and George had just come downstairs, and the moment they sensed tension, they exchanged a glance.
"Are Ron and Draco fighting for attention again?" one whispered.
"I'll go get Percy," the other said—and both vanished before Mrs. Weasley could reply.
A moment later, they heard a loud pop—followed by what sounded suspiciously like a deflating tire.
Mrs. Weasley sighed. "I knew this was coming."
Then she turned to her husband.
"Arthur, you can drink today."
"What? Oh—right. Yes, Molly." Mr. Weasley looked bewildered.
"At noon," she emphasized, eyes narrowing.
Ron, wisely sensing danger, grabbed a few meat pies and bolted for the door.
"Let's, uh, go outside for a bit!"
Draco, Harry, and Alexander quickly followed. Even Ginny slipped out quietly, clearly understanding the storm that was about to erupt inside.
---
Out in the garden, Ron exhaled.
"I bet Mum's planning to get Sirius drunk."
Harry groaned. "I don't think that's a good idea. Sirius already knows how tough Mrs. Weasley can be. See? He didn't even send the letter to her directly—he made me do it."
"So… what's this got to do with us?" Alexander asked lightly.
Draco smirked. "Does it matter? Sirius's house or the Burrow—it's all chaos either way."
Ron grinned. "Yeah… it's all for fun."
The three boys looked at one another, half-dreading, half-excited for what noon would bring.
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