The Quidditch match had come to an end.
Just as the crowd was beginning to disperse, the phoenix once again swooped down from the sky, singing loudly, as though bidding farewell to its supporters before the winter break.
During this time, Dawn had carefully memorized most of the pattern within the phoenix's body. When he lowered his binoculars, he was very satisfied with the match.
The supporters of the Macaw Team beside him, however, were far less pleased.
Their team had lost.
Even though they had dominated most of the game, the New Zealand Hounds managed to keep the score even thanks to their Keeper's outstanding performance, and their Seeker, unafraid of injury, managed to catch the Golden Snitch first.
"My goodness! What happened to Ken today? This performance is definitely not his real level. Have the overwhelming transfer rumors been affecting his form?"
The commentator shouted loudly,
"But still, congratulations to the New Zealand Hounds! Their tenacity truly deserves today's victory!"
With the announcer's voice echoing over the stadium, the match officially ended.
The two Quidditch teams left the pitch first, while the spectators remained in their seats, heatedly discussing the aftershocks of the game.
"Ha! I knew it! A boring team like yours could never beat us! Long live the Hounds!"
A chubby man who had just woken from unconsciousness caught the final moment of the match. Seeing the Hounds catch the Snitch, he let out an earsplitting shriek of joy.
The burly man beside him gritted his teeth and scoffed. "Hmph, so what if you won one match? You just got lucky! Besides, our Macaw Team is still ranked first in the league!"
"Oh? You sure talk tough!"
Thud—
Before he finished speaking, the chubby man let out another strange sound and collapsed, once again falling into a deep sleep right there in the stands.
Dawn glanced at the congested aisle. After a moment of thought, he stepped over the unconscious man, declined the burly fan's attempt to promote his team, and slipped through the noisy crowd to leave the stadium.
Anti-Apparition wards were placed around the stands.
Looking at the rolling hills beyond the pitch, Dawn took a deep breath. His mood was pleasant, and he thought the air here was indeed much fresher than in Egypt.
Even so, he had no plans to stay in New Zealand for long.
The wizard population here was small, but compared to Egypt's Ministry of Magic, which governed with near-total neglect, New Zealand felt more restrictive.
Finding a quiet corner where no one was paying attention, Dawn gripped his wand and Disapparated.
Yellow sand filled the air.
The scorching sun hung overhead, and the wind carried fine, bitter sand, crunching between one's teeth.
This was the most vivid imprint of Egypt.
Dawn looked around, realized he was slightly off-course, and Disapparated again. This time, he arrived directly at Harris's home.
In the courtyard—
Amir was flailing his arms in frustration, as if practicing magic.
"Oh, boss, you're finally back!"
When Amir saw Dawn step inside, he froze for a moment before rushing over, clutching his chest dramatically as if relieved of a great burden.
Dawn looked at him oddly. "What happened?"
"That kid you told me to look after locked himself in his room. No matter how much I call him, he won't come out! He won't eat either—and I can't find the key to the room. I can't even get the door open."
Amir poured out his grievances. Afraid of losing his job, he began describing in detail how difficult it had been to get William to even take a bite of food these past few days.
Dawn stared at the rambling Amir and sighed.
Sometimes he really wondered how a supposed wizard could be stopped by a simple locked door just because he couldn't find the key.
"You don't even know the Unlocking Charm?" Dawn couldn't help asking.
Amir's cheeks flushed red. He coughed awkwardly. "It's been a long time since I used it. I'm… a bit out of practice."
Remembering Amir's movements in the courtyard, Dawn realized the truth. "So, you were practicing the Unlocking Charm just now?"
Amir nodded, embarrassed. "I've been cramming since yesterday, but I still haven't managed to cast it successfully even once."
Right.
Dawn was speechless.
He headed for the kitchen to look for food. After all, during the seven or eight hours of the Quidditch match in New Zealand, he hadn't eaten a thing.
Amir followed closely behind. "Um, boss, aren't you going to check on the kid?"
"Forget it. I'm not his babysitter. When he gets hungry enough, he'll come out on his own."
Dawn tore open a cream-filled pastry, threw half of it to Amir, waited for him to instinctively take a bite, then finished the rest himself.
Sometimes, high-calorie foods really could improve one's mood.
Dawn narrowed his eyes contentedly.
"Boss, I still think you should go take a look at him," Amir said, holding the remaining half of the bread, hesitation in his tone.
Though his memory had been modified, the experience of exploring tombs with Harris still lingered in his mind. Naturally, he couldn't ignore the child Harris had left behind.
"So troublesome."
Dawn tossed the wrapper in the trash, shot Amir an impatient glance, but after remembering that day he'd been doused in water and woken up, he fell silent.
With a soft click of his tongue, he turned and went upstairs.
Harris's room was on the left side of the second-floor landing—the only room with a locked door.
°Alohomora°
Dawn murmured, and the door opened silently.
Thanks to his childhood days of practicing magic without a wand, he was able to perform simple spells wandlessly.
The room was dark.
Heavy curtains blocked out the blazing Egyptian sunlight.
Dawn saw, at a glance, a small figure curled under the blanket on the bed.
"Hey, how long are you going to keep this up? Be good, will you? Do you really plan to starve yourself to death in here?"
He reached to pull back the blanket. He felt resistance from within, but after a short struggle, he forcefully uncovered it.
Beneath the blanket—
William was curled tightly, face buried, motionless and lifeless.
Dawn frowned, ready to speak.
But then he noticed the large wet patch near the child's head on the sheets, streaked with white salt from dried tears.
The words stuck in his throat.
Dawn froze for a moment.
He stared at the tear-soaked bedding, at the dark room, and for some reason, an unsettling sense of déjà vu crept over him.
Familiar images flickered in his mind.
Sometimes he wondered why he felt no sense of belonging in this world. No matter how real the world in his dreams seemed, reality was just as undeniable.
Maybe… it was because, after that car accident—after his mother's death—the roots that bound him to this world had been severed in a storm of blood.
Memories he tried to bury trembled, threatening to resurface, but he pushed them down again.
Either way, he wasn't so weak that he couldn't escape the past.
"William, I think I promised to take you out for some roasted meat, didn't I? You probably don't remember, but how about tonight?"
Dawn suppressed his emotions and, unusually, spoke softly.
But the child on the bed didn't respond. He simply turned his back and lay still.
"What's wrong? Isn't that your favorite food?"
Dawn sighed tiredly, sat on the edge of the bed, hesitated a moment, then reached out to gently pat the chubby boy's head.
"Stop crying. Harris isn't coming back. He's trapped in that tomb forever. No matter how much you cry, nothing will change."
He could feel the child trembling under his palm.
"It's my fault. It's all my fault…" William said in a hoarse, tearful voice.
Dawn glanced toward the door and caught Amir peeking in, but the moment their eyes met, Amir withdrew.
Dawn ignored him. "Why do you say that?"
"He only went into the tomb to save me. If it weren't for me, he wouldn't have died. He'd still be in Britain, living the life he wanted."
Dawn didn't react much. He lay down beside William, staring at the ceiling, and asked casually, "What kind of life did Harris want?"
"…He wanted to open a clothing shop," William murmured through his sobs.
"Really? Then he would've gone bankrupt pretty badly. The clothing market in Britain is already oversaturated. There's no room for him."
It almost sounded like Dawn was trying to comfort him.
"Think about it. Madam Malkin's, Twilfitt and Tatting's, Gladrags Wizardwear, and countless second-hand stores—every price range is already taken. What could Harris possibly compete with?
"And maybe… maybe you actually saved his dream. Because if he never tries and fails, he'd always hold onto that fantasy."
William fell silent again.
Amir, eavesdropping from behind the wall, rolled his eyes inwardly. His boss's idea of comfort was truly… unconventional.
The room fell into quiet.
Like the desert night, cold and empty.
"Alright," Dawn said, rising from the bed. "Once you're done crying, come have dinner. Someone once said that being full keeps sadness away."
"…I don't want to eat."
"Then what do you want to do?" Dawn asked.
But no reply came.
"As expected… troublesome."
Dawn sighed, and without another word, grabbed William by the collar and pulled him up.
"Don't touch me!" The boy struggled violently.
With a flick of his wandless magic, Dawn cast Petrificus Totalus, and William's body froze.
"Much better this way."
Satisfied, Dawn carried William to the door and tossed him to Amir.
"The Body-Bind Curse lasts around twenty minutes. I think there's porridge in the kitchen. Feed him while he can't move."
Amir fumbled to catch the boy. He was about to speak up about the rough treatment when a sharp crack echoed through the hall, and Dawn vanished.
He had Disapparated.
Amir sighed, looked at William in his arms, and decided, for the child's sake, to get that bowl of porridge ready.
___________
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