Chapter 162: Sirius Black and Remus Lupin
Sirius Black… acquitted…
The woman’s voice, like a golden bell tolling, echoed in his ears, thunderous and unrelenting.
Sirius Black sat motionless in his chair, his eyes vacant, lost in a haze of disbelief. He didn’t hear Fudge snort in fury, forcefully shove his chair back and storm out. He didn’t see wizards hurrying after him in a rush. He didn’t notice Dumbledore’s hand slip from his shoulder.
People filed slowly along the sides of the tunnel, whispering among themselves, casting glances at him—some with pity, others with disdain. But Sirius was unaware of it all. He stared at the floor ahead, yet saw nothing.
Until someone stepped beside him, seized his hand, and pulled him to his feet with a forceful tug—then wrapped him in a fierce embrace.
Remus…
The name echoed in Sirius Black’s mind, long unspoken, long unmet. He wanted to speak, but his throat felt choked, constricted. His arms trembled as he lifted them, then returned the embrace just as fiercely.
The warmth of a living body—like sunlight breaking through storm clouds—pulled him from the darkness of hell.
After a long silence, they finally let go.
"Remus…" Sirius Black’s face twitched, forming a stiff, awkward smile. "I didn’t think I’d ever see you looking older…"
"I’m sorry, Sirius Black," Remus Lupin whispered, remorse heavy in his tone. "For eleven years, I never wrote to you. I should’ve known—you were the last person in the world who would betray James Potter."
"No… I was wrong," Sirius admitted, pain flickering across his face. "I made a fool’s suggestion, thought it was the perfect plan… If it weren’t for me…"
He shook his head, unwilling to continue, unwilling to hear Remus try to soothe him.
Then he saw the boy standing beside Remus—messy black hair, emerald eyes filled with tension and hope. He looked so much like James Potter at that age… It was as if the old friend stood before him once more.
Sirius Black blinked, his lips parting and closing several times before he finally found his voice.
"Harry?"
"Uh… yeah. That’s me." Harry shifted awkwardly.
To Sirius, he was both a stranger and someone he’d known for years—through Remus’s stories. The tales of their youth: school days, pranks, shared dormitories, battles with Slytherin students, midnight wanderings across the grounds. The year they discovered Remus was a werewolf—and didn’t turn away. The year James and Sirius learned to become Animagi in fifth year, so they could stay with Remus during his transformations. James’s awkward pursuit of Lily, the years of rejections, the joy that finally burst forth when they finally got together in seventh year—James so happy, he’d practically danced.
At sixteen, Sirius had left the pure-blood Black family. He’d moved in with the Potters, who’d treated him like a second son. After graduation, they’d all attended James and Lily’s wedding—Sirius was the best man. Then they’d joined the Order of the Phoenix, standing against Voldemort and the Death Eaters.
Remus hadn’t spoken of the darker parts. He’d left out Peter Pettigrew entirely—the traitor who had betrayed them all.
In his stories, there was friendship, adventure, courage—bright, vibrant youth, full of fire, building a tale so beautiful and dreamlike it felt almost unreal.
Harry had never met Sirius Black before, yet he felt he’d known him forever.
Even now, Sirius looked terrifying—hollowed out, gaunt, his face like a skull carved from bone. But look closely, and one could still see the ghost of the handsome young man he once was.
Sirius’s lips moved, trembling. "The last time I saw you… you were this small." He gestured, shaping a tiny ball with his fingers, then adjusted, making it slightly larger.
Harry didn’t know what to say. He simply smiled shyly.
Sirius hesitated. "I… don’t know if anyone’s told you… Harry… I’m your godfather."
"Yes, I know," Harry said, nodding.
He hesitated, then stepped forward and gently embraced Sirius.
Sirius bent down, holding him tightly, his arms trembling.
"Your parents appointed me your guardian," Sirius said, voice rough and raw. "If anything happened to them… Of course, I know I don’t have the right to ask you to leave your current family… But if you’re willing… if you want… I’d like to take care of you."
Before he could finish, Remus interrupted, placing a firm hand on his shoulder, smiling.
"Sirius Black, you’ve just been cleared. No need to rush. First, go take a bath, change into clean clothes. You need food—something nourishing. You’re exhausted."
Sirius stared at him. That smile… It looked just a little too sharp.
"…Alright," Sirius mumbled. He looked at Harry, about to say something—then Remus added:
"Oh, and I need to introduce you to someone. You don’t know him, but he’s the one who really made your case possible."
Sirius’s attention snapped to him. "Who?"
"His name is Wade Gray," Remus said proudly. "Harry’s classmate. Also my employer—and student."
"Twelve years old?" Sirius blinked. "Employer?"
"Indeed," Remus said, turning to introduce him—only to find Wade’s seat empty.
"If you’re looking for the boy," Moody said, still standing nearby, "he was called away by Dumbledore. Left word for you not to wait."
The crowd surged up the staircase, heading for the elevators. The underground chamber was cramped, gloomy—no one liked lingering here. But Wade paused, his gaze drawn to a dark corridor beside him.
It was pitch black—no doors, no windows, not even a torch on the walls. At the far end stood a single black door, silent, waiting.
"That’s the Department of Mysteries," Dumbledore said. "A Ministry-level secure chamber. Inside, there are things whose existence defies understanding, whose nature is beyond control."
"Even you, Professor?" Wade asked.
"I must admit," Dumbledore smiled, "that place makes me feel like a child. People think I master magic more than anyone else—but in truth, I’m still just a student."
"What kind of magic is in there?"
"Many," Dumbledore replied. "Time. Death. Prophecy. Scholars there spend their lives studying the most mysterious, most dangerous magic. They’re known as The Silent Ones. They spend their entire lives locked in silence—never allowed to speak of what they do."
The Silent Ones…
Wade paused, considering. Then: "Professor, what did you need me for?"
"I want to thank you, Wade."
Dumbledore’s voice was calm, quiet. "I made a mistake in the Sirius Black case. I allowed my judgment to be clouded by assumption."
"I once swore to the Ministry that Sirius was the Potters’ Secret-Keeper. After he was imprisoned, I never investigated further… If I had visited him—even once—I should’ve realized he wasn’t the betrayer."
Wade didn’t scold him. After a moment, he said, "You must’ve been furious… and heartbroken when you believed he betrayed them."
"I was," Dumbledore admitted. "I’ve seen too many talented young wizards fall into darkness. I thought Sirius was one of them."
"But you can’t blame him, Professor," Wade said. "Their plan was clever. If Peter Pettigrew hadn’t betrayed them… it would’ve worked perfectly."
"Indeed," Dumbledore sighed. "Who would’ve thought that someone so close could turn into a monster so quickly? It makes you wonder… Did you ever truly know them at all?"
Wade glanced at Dumbledore, catching only the shadowed profile of his face, half-lit by the flickering torchlight.
He didn’t know if Dumbledore was remembering someone.
Chapter 162
(End of Chapter)
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