Godfather Owl: Guardian of Batman [37]

Kathoom was well aware of Bruce’s suspicions, though he didn’t bother to interfere.

He let Bruce go ahead with his theories, his suspicions about Dumbledore, and even any extreme actions he might decide to take.

After all, it was only a matter of time.

Bruce was naturally tenacious, relentless in his beliefs, willing to pursue a goal without any signs of turning back.

A personality like this, viewed in a positive light, was determined and unyielding.

But on the darker side, it made him stubborn, refusing to accept outside input.

Kathoom had known that, once left to his own devices, Bruce would inevitably aim his suspicions at Dumbledore.

He already had his answer in mind, and all he sought now was proof to back it up—making him even more certain of his theory.

So, Kathoom simply let him be.

Young people had to make mistakes to grow.

And if, by chance, Bruce was right?

Then…he’d simply be right. Simple as that.

—

“I’m going to stop Quirrell.”

Bruce said firmly, “I have a feeling this leads to something bigger. If I dig deeper, I’ll catch something major.”

“Suit yourself.”

Kathoom was surprisingly agreeable. “Go ahead, give it all you’ve got. I’ll be waiting here.”

“You’re not coming with me?” Bruce asked, a bit surprised.

“Nah, I’ll sit this one out.” Kathoom shook his head. “But don’t worry. I’ll always support you. Even if you stand against the whole world, I’ll be right here, by your side.”

Bruce frowned, puzzled. “Why would I be against the world?”

“It was just a hypothetical, a hypothetical!”

Kathoom chuckled, dodging Bruce’s question.

“You’re getting weirder every day,” Bruce muttered, before slipping toward the stands where Quirrell was seated.

He didn’t make a move immediately, but instead leaned closer, trying to catch what Quirrell was muttering.

Gradually, he heard it—

“So it really is you.”

Bruce thought darkly. Now he was sure—it was Quirrell targeting Harry.

And then, his gaze drifted to Dumbledore sitting not far away. The teachers were all seated together, so why couldn’t Dumbledore detect Quirrell’s abnormal behavior?

Old man… we’ll settle this later.

Putting aside his grievances for now, Bruce focused on the task at hand.

First, Quirrell had let the troll into Hogwarts. Now he was cursing Harry right in front of everyone.

Bruce crouched, snapping his fingers, and a small blue flame flared up on the hem of Quirrell’s robes. The professor panicked, slapping frantically at the fire.

At that moment, Harry’s broom stabilized.

Bruce quietly backed into the shadows, planning to wait until after the game to interrogate—or rather, question—Quirrell.

It was then that a thought hit him.

My status as a student might be a bit… limiting.

Even if Quirrell was cowardly, he was still unlikely to be intimidated by a mere student.

Bruce rubbed his chin, slowly realizing something.

Now he understood why his future self would create an identity to operate in the shadows.

Some things simply weren’t suited for Bruce Wayne to handle.

—

In the Gryffindor stands, the crowd’s excitement surged back.

In the sky, Harry had managed to regain control of his broomstick.

He dived toward the ground, clamping his hand over his mouth as if he were about to be sick. Then, in one swift motion, he clutched something golden—the Golden Snitch.

“I caught the Snitch!” Harry yelled, raising the ball high above his head.

The Gryffindor crowd erupted with cheers.

“Well done, Harry!” Hermione leaned over the stands, waving enthusiastically.

Just then, she heard a soft hoot.

“Hoo, hoo!”

“Kathoom?”

Hermione turned to see Kathoom perched beside her. She scooped him up, raising him above her head like a mascot, celebrating Gryffindor’s victory.

“Hoo, hoo!”

Kathoom was shaken around in her hands, his head spinning.

He’d let his guard down. He shouldn’t have come.

—

“Lately, it seems you and Bruce have been clashing a lot.”

Hermione hugged Kathoom as she followed the dispersing crowd, leaving the Quidditch pitch.

With the air of a protective sister, she said to Kathoom, “Is Bruce bullying you? Tell me, and I’ll give him a talking-to!”

Kathoom said nothing.

What could he say? Even if he told her, she wouldn’t understand.

“Hoo,” he hooted absently before settling on Hermione’s shoulder, closing his eyes, as if indifferent to the world.

Bruce had gone a bit overboard; Kathoom figured he’d keep his distance for a few days.

He’d wait for Bruce to find his own answer.

—

It was several days later that Kathoom finally flew back to Bruce’s side.

“So, Bat-boy,” the owl said, greeting Bruce as if they’d been separated for ages. “Found your answer yet?”

“No!” Bruce huffed, frustrated. “I’ve had terrible luck. I couldn’t get Quirrell alone.”

He then explained what had happened over the past few days.

After the Quidditch match, Bruce hadn’t had the chance to corner Quirrell because Snape had immediately whisked him away.

Unfazed, Bruce had planned to try again.

But the next day, Quirrell had requested a leave of absence, and Snape had temporarily taken over Defense Against the Dark Arts.

This wasn’t supposed to happen, yet here it was.

Apparently, Quirrell’s leave was to last until after Christmas.

“Did he catch onto something?” Bruce wondered aloud. “Or maybe…Dumbledore did?”

Kathoom sighed, unable to hold back.

“Bruce, how about… we ease up on Dumbledore, just for a moment?”

If he could just stop focusing on Dumbledore, Quirrell’s little tricks would be easier to expose.

“Why?” Bruce shot back. “Right now, I’m convinced Dumbledore is the prime suspect!”

“Fine, have it your way,” Kathoom relented, realizing he couldn’t sway Bruce.

After all, everything would become clear after Christmas.

Right or wrong, Bruce would know soon enough.

“Better start packing. Christmas is coming up soon,” Kathoom reminded him. “You’re going home with Hermione to the Grangers’.”

Hearing this, Bruce finally set aside his Dumbledore suspicions.

In past Christmases, he’d spent the holiday alone with Alfred in the vast, empty Wayne Manor.

The loneliness was indescribable.

But this year would be different.

With a new sense of anticipation, Bruce’s attitude softened, and his suspicions eased.

“Kathoom, do you…really think I’m wrong?”

“I don’t know, but—”

Kathoom paused, then pulled something out from his feathers—a diadem.

“If you have doubts, wear this diadem and try reasoning through it again. It’ll enhance your wisdom—I’ve already removed the dark magic from it, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

Kathoom hadn’t been idle during his time with Hermione over the past few days.

Bruce glanced at the corroded diadem, clearly a girl’s accessory, and crinkled his nose in disdain.

“I’m not wearing that; it’s for girls.” Bruce refused outright. “You wear it yourself.”

“I don’t need it,” Kathoom replied smugly. “I’m already smart enough.”

—

T/N: kids smh, even batman was a kid, he still has to grow