It was a cold November evening, Slytherins had just lost to Gryffindors and the mood in the common room was somber. Ronan was sitting on the couch with three of his friends and they were discussing the match, and how ruthlessly they were all defeated.
“We have never lost so badly,” Pancy said, “I heard some seniors, they were talking about how awful we would have played. Gryffindors chasers made so many goals that, we couldnt have a dream to cover up the gap.”
“I heard the same thing,” Blaise added, “You know, when I will join the Slytherin team I will make sure that we win every match.”
“Sure,” Ronan said, “When you join the team, I will make you a banner just as those Gryfindors did for Potter”
Daphne then turned towards him, “By the way, how did you make the banner that we used today?”
He shrugged, “It was very easy to make. If you know what you are doing.”
It is then that Pancy looked at him suspiciously, “But the question is how did you pull it off? We are in the same year, you study all the stuff we do.”
He simply shook his head, “No we dont. You guys are still stuck on 1st year course. Me on the other hand had moved on.”
Blaise then gave him a look, “What do you mean?”
Before he could tell what he meant, the whole common room was silenced. Everyone looked around to see Snape walking down from the entrance. From what Ronan had heard, Snape might be the head of the Slytherins, but he hardly mingles with their affairs. So it came as a surprise for all of them that he came down here.
Snape when came down, he looked around the room, his finally rested on him. “Johanson, you have been summoned by Headmaster Dumbledore.”
Everyone in the room turned towards him, he didnt know what this was all about. Hell, he didnt have the slightest clue what this could be about. He got up and followed Professor Snape to the seventh floor, heading towards the Gargoyle Corridor that leads to the Headmaster’s tower. He had heard that Dumbledore’s office was around the place, but he didnt know exactly where it was. Professor Snape came to a stop near a Gargoyle Statue.
“Sherbet lemon,” Snape said, and the Gargoyle statue started moving. The pillar that Gargoyle was sitting on started rising up, making steps appear as it went up.
“You have to go alone from here Johanson,” he nodded and followed the stairs and went upstairs.
There were great Oak doors at the end of the stairway, he pushed one of them aside and peeked inside. An old man was sitting at the other end of the room on his desk, “Professor Dumbledore?”
The old man looked up, his eyes twinkling underneath his half-moon glasses. With a warm smile on his face, he spoke, “Mr. Johanson, please come on in.”
He stepped inside a large and beautiful circular room, full of funny little noises. A number of curious silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. The walls were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom were snoozing gently in their frames. There was also an enormous, claw-footed desk, and, sitting on a shelf behind it, a shabby, tainted wizard's hat. Just beside Dumbledore’s desk was a bird stand, on which a fiery red bird was sitting, he didnt recognize its species but it looked rather majestic, to be honest.
Dumbledore got up from his desk and gestured towards the guest sitting area, “Please have a seat, my child.” He nodded and took a seat, and Dumbledore sat down in front of him.
“Would like you to eat Sherbet Lemon?” Dumbledore asked while gesturing towards a yellowish cake-like thing. He took one and quite liked it as well.
“Ronan, I am afraid I have some grave news.” Dumbledore said, “I am afraid, your father has passed away.”
He was surprised to hear that, “Professor, are you saying that I had a father?”
“Surely you would have heard about your father from Mr. Malfoy or any other Slytherin student.”
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He nodded, “Draco did insinuate that he knows my father. And my fellow housemates also told me about a man who they think is my father. But I always figured that they must be mistaken, because Professor Sprout told me that they couldnt find any of my relatives.”
“Professor Sprout lied to you Ronan,” Dumbledore said gravely, “She didnt dare to tell a boy of your age that all of your family is in prison. She thought that it would be better for you to grow up not knowing about your origins.” He had figured that much, so it was not news to him. Then Dumbledore continued maintaining a warm smile on his face, “But from your reaction, it seems that you anticipated that.”
He nodded, “I anticipated it.”
“Are you not angry at Professor Sprout?”
“No. I am not. I would have done the same thing if I were in my shoes. I would lie to an 11-year-old as well. But unlike her, I would have made sure that the child wouldn't find the truth on the first day of school.”
Then Ronan shifted in his seat, and asked, “Professor Dumbledore, did you know my father?” He thought that he should at least act like the news had affected him, contrary to the truth.
“I knew him,” Dumbledore said, “He was a fine man, your father. But from what I can see, you are more like your mother. She was also a top student like you. It is a shame.. She passed away during the reign of Voldemort.”
“Professor, who was my mother?”
Dumbledore sat back, “Her name was Regina. Regina Black. She was a fine witch, quite powerful as well. But she went to the dark side, where she met your father. From what I know, she died for Voldemort’s cause.”
“Professor, could you tell me more about my family?”
With a sigh, Dumbledore then continued, “Your paternal grandparents had passed away. You dont have any paternal uncles or aunts. As for your maternal grandparents are concerned, your grandmother passed away in 1985. Sirius Black, your maternal uncle is in Azkaban. As Sirius was disowned by his parents, you are now the heir to the Black household and Johanson Household.”
This information did shock him a little bit. When he heard his mother’s name, he pushed her aside as he thought that she was just a side character. But learning that he is the nephew of Sirius Black changes things. Also, becoming an heir of two households, he doesn't know what that means but it sounds cool. And if he was not wrong then he might be penniless as he thought might have been.
“What does that mean sir, being the only heir of two households?”
“I think this question should be answered by Hookgrim, he is a goblin Ronan. He will be coming to meet you in Hogwarts tomorrow. He would be the best person to answer all of your questions.”
“I understand sir,”
“The main reason that I have called you here is boy, because of your father’s funeral. It is going to take place tomorrow. Would you like to go there? Keep in mind, that this is not a necessity. If you are comfortable then you can go, if you decide not to.. No one will force you.”
He thought about it for a moment, then finally came to a decision, “No, sir. I am not interested in going to the funeral of a racist criminal. I will say my prayer from my room.” After exchanging some more words, the conversation ended and he went back to his room.
Lying in his room, Ronan thought about the conversation that he had with Dumbledore. The news of his father’s death did come as a shock to him, but he didnt feel sad about it. He doesn't remember the man, nor does he feel obliged to go to his funeral. Does this make him a bad man? He doesn't know. But the news that he might have some amount of money saved up in his name feels rather good.
The next day no one came to him talking about his father’s death. He figured that no one knew about it, maybe the ministry didnt spread the information. When evening rolled over, he was once called to Professor McGonagall’s office where he was given some privacy to talk to an old-looking goblin…
***
Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban. No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the draughty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worst of all were Professor Snape’s classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons.
“I do feel so sorry,” said Draco Malfoy, one Potions class, “for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they’re not wanted at home.” His taunt was for Harry. And maybe Ronan as well, he was not sure whether Ronan would be going back to the orphanage this Christmas or not.
It was true that Harry wasn’t going back to Privet Drive for Christmas. Professor McGonagall had come round the week before, making a list of students who would be staying for the holidays, and Harry had signed up at once. He didn’t feel sorry for himself at all; this would probably be the best Christmas he’d ever had. Ron and his brothers were staying too, because Mr and Mrs Weasley were going to Romania to visit Charlie. While Neville was going to France with his Grandma to visit some relatives. While Hermione didnt have particular plans for Christmas, she was going back.
Since they had learned about Flamel, everyone was trying their best to find out more about the man. But even after spending hours in the library, they couldnt even uncover even one clue. Hermione suggested that they could ask Ronan about it, but ever since his first Quidditch match, they couldnt get in touch with Ronan. That guy would go from one class to another, and then vanish. He didnt even visit the library, which Hermione finds very weird.
Neville suggested that we should write to him, but Ron pointed out that Ronan’s letter might end up in the wrong hands. So they decided that they would talk to him face to face when the time comes….