Hogwarts: Harry Returns from Azeroth

Chapter 193, Section 192: I am the Godfather!
Harry was somewhat exhausted, especially when Sirius kept coming up with some ingenious ideas. Harry always felt that he was the godfather, and Sirius had become his godson.

How come after returning to this world, I'm not only taking on apprentices, but now I'm even taking on children... Haha, if Jaina saw me like this, she'd probably laugh heartily.

Sirius drank so much that he even missed the next day's Daily Prophet, the one written by Rita that restored his reputation.

After the official verdict was delivered, and knowing she was telling the truth, Rita Skeeter brazenly portrayed Sirius Black as a lone hero filled with remorse and embarking on a path of redemption.

They also attacked the Ministry of Magic, claiming that even in the darkest times one should not give up the light in one's heart because of darkness, and that being busy or having special circumstances is not a reason for a good person to suffer injustice.

However, Crouch's punishment was glossed over, with the focus instead on the fact that the traitor Peter Pedro was still alive.

The Ministry of Magic has officially issued an arrest warrant for Peter Pedro. If nothing unexpected happens, the wizards today, after seeing the newspaper, will be most concerned about the fact that this person, whom everyone thought was dead, is still alive.

As the top reporter for the Daily Prophet, Rita naturally witnessed the entire trial process. However, having learned her lesson from Harry, she did not exaggerate the events of that day but simply recorded what had happened in the newspaper.

Well, although they haven't known each other for very long, Harry thinks that with Sirius's flamboyant personality, he'll definitely be strutting around like crazy when he sees Rita's praise and flattery of him in the newspaper.

Sirius finally woke up around noon on the third day. When he dragged his aching body downstairs, Harry was already having lunch.

Ah Fu quickly prepared a copy for Sirius as well.

"How are you feeling?" Harry put down his book and looked Sirius up and down. "I gave you some potion. Is there anything else that's bothering you?"

"Potion..." Sirius clicked his tongue with a strange look. "No wonder I had a nightmare... Hmm, my mouth tastes bitter too."

“Your body is too depleted.” Harry casually replied, turning his gaze back to the book beside his plate, “Life in Azkaban has emptied your body. A potion or two won’t solve your problem. You need more thorough treatment, both for your body and your mind.”

After he finished speaking, Harry didn't hear Sirius's reply for a long time. When he looked up again, he saw Sirius staring at him in disbelief—then he staggered back two steps, repeatedly banging his forehead against the door frame, muttering to himself.

"...I'm sorry, James...it's all my fault. I didn't set a good example for Harry...Damn Merlin, look what he's doing—he's reading a book while he's eating!!"

"If I didn't already know you were in Gryffindor, I would have thought you were a Ravenclaw nerd!!"

Orthodox Gryffindor students mostly look down on Ravenclaws who only know how to read books all day, thinking that their minds are rigid and full of words.

"Wait a minute!" Sirius cried out in alarm, suddenly realizing something was wrong. He strode into the porch and grabbed the book Harry had placed beside him. "What is this?! 'The Secret of Blood'?! This—this is a book of dark magic, isn't it?!"

Feeling the book cover slippery against his fingertips, like touching a viscous liquid that didn't stick to his hands, and sensing the sinister magical energy emanating from it, Sirius was 100% certain, even 90% certain, that anyone who presented this book to an Auror would be in for at least ten years in an Azkaban prison cell.

Compared to Ravenclaw's habit of reading at the dining table, Sirius found it even more unacceptable that his godson, the savior of the wizarding world, was reading such an evil dark magic book.

“Don’t make such a fuss,” Harry said irritably, snatching the book back. “I know what I’m doing; it’s just magical research.”

“But Harry,” Sirius sat down beside him, hesitating as if to speak but holding back, “every wizard who embarks on the path of dark magic initially thinks that he is just doing some research. This kind of magic is evil in itself. It will erode your mind and make you become cold and ruthless without you even realizing it.”

"You actually know about this kind of thing?" Harry looked at Sirius with some surprise. "I thought you only knew how to eat, drink, and have fun."

“…I’m not kidding you, Harry,” Sirius said with a helpless look. “I come from the Black family, which is an evil pure-blood family, so I know these things—you have to listen to me.”

"Don't worry, Sirius, Dumbledore knows I'm reading these books." After thinking for a moment, Harry still brought up Dumbledore's name. "If we know nothing about the Dark Arts, how are we supposed to fight it? Even Dumbledore himself is quite knowledgeable about the Dark Arts."

"Really?" Sirius Black became somewhat uncertain. "Dumbledore... um, Dumbledore..."

“Don’t think about these things. You have much more to deal with than this little thing of mine,” Harry said, placing a letter in front of Sirius.

“Hey kid, studying dark magic is no small matter—what is this?” Sirius muttered.

"A letter from Signas Black." Harry had already checked the security of a letter from a stranger beforehand, so he had read a little of its contents.

“Signas Black?” Upon hearing this name, Sirius’s expression turned ashen, as if he’d eaten shit. “Why would he write to me?”

"You don't get along with him?" Harry asked. "Who is he to you? The contents of his letter seemed quite sincere to me."

"Ha! Not on good terms?!" Sirius laughed loudly, throwing his head back. "To be precise, we both wish the other were dead!"

That's really not good, Harry thought to himself.

“Signas is my uncle, and I was expelled from the family when I was sixteen for opposing the Black family’s ideals,” Sirius said with a look of disgust. “My dear mother insists that I am a disgrace to the family, and my uncles probably only send me a howling letter at Christmas.”

“So it seems like things are starting to improve between you two,” Harry gestured for Sirius to look at the letter. “He wants to see you.”

"Tch, there's no need to even look at it," Sirius said dismissively. Just as he said, the man had already torn the letter open, and only two more steps were needed to completely shred it.

“He’s dying and wants to see you one last time,” Harry added, seeing that Sirius was about to throw the ashes into the fireplace if he didn’t say something. Sirius froze.

Shaking his head, Ha tapped the fragments of the letter with his finger, and they came to life again, restoring themselves to their original state.

As if his bones were blocked, Sirius opened the letter stiffly and began to read it quickly.

The letter contained no reminiscing or deeply moving words. Signas simply said that he was dying, and the doctors at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Arts said he might not live past the end of the year. He hadn't expected to suddenly learn of Sirius's release from prison at this time, so he wanted to see him one last time.

In the letter, Signas referred to Sirius as the last male member of the Black family.

"...Ha, now it's happening again?" Sirius forced a smile, crumpled the letter into a ball, and threw it far into the fireplace, watching it burn to ashes in an instant. "Black..."

Harry didn't speak, while Sirius looked grim.

“Signas… he only had three daughters,” Sirius said in a low voice after a long pause. “You already know one of them, Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa.”

“I know Narcissa too,” Harry said after thinking for a moment. “In a sense, we’re relatives now.”

Lucius, his magical uncle.

"Ha, that's how pure-blood families are. If you want to, you can easily get involved with anyone," Sirius Black gave a forced smile.

“So you want to go take a look? I can go with you,” Harry said considerately.

“No need—I mean, I haven’t decided whether I want to go or not yet,” Sirius instinctively retorted. “Signas is a bad seed. He and the rest of the Black family are deeply convinced of Voldemort’s ideas. Extreme pure-blood believers, you understand?”

Harry nodded.

"...Only the Black family has declined in numbers, not in wealth... Ha, especially after we were all imprisoned in Azkaban, Signas must have been keeping a lot of watch out for us... I'm just going to see if I can get my hands on that money, at least I can use it to fight the Death Eaters and stuff..."

Sirius was muttering something unintelligible, and Harry didn't say anything, just looked at him with a kind gaze.

“You can make the decision,” Harry said with a smile after Sirius took a deep breath as if he had made up his mind. “However, more important than the Black family’s wealth is your health. You can’t handle the potions I’m drinking, and the potions I’m familiar with are also lacking in raw materials. Considering that I’m still a student in the wizarding potions system, I’ve specially entrusted a gentleman who is an expert in potions to help you improve your health.”

"Sir? Who?" Sirius looked bewildered.

“The one you know,” Harry said with a sly grin, “a Potions Master.”

Sirius Black, the Potions Master I know and an expert in potions, quickly ran through his mind, and then, no matter how unwilling he was to admit it, a name still popped into his head.

"No, no, no, no! No, no, no, no! Absolutely not!!" Sirius Black made an "X" sign with his arms in front of him and said resolutely, "Snotty will poison me! He definitely will!!!"

On this one matter, Sirius was absolutely certain—he had no doubt about Snape's determination to kill him.

This is self-awareness.

"And I would rather die than drink a potion made from snot! Ugh ...

Seeing Sirius Black spitting and making a ruckus without any regard for his image, Harry felt a vein throbbing in his forehead—it was back, that mischievous kid vibe was back again.

"Quiet!" Harry glared sternly at Sirius. "What kind of nonsense is this? I don't want to hear you call Snape 'Snotty' anymore. Yes, don't spout any old grudges. I already know all about what happened back then."

"It's obvious that you're targeting Snape because he's Lily Evans' childhood friend, and my father fell in love with my mother at first sight—don't use Death Eaters or Dark Magic as an excuse. I believe there are definitely more than just Snape in Slytherin who idolize Voldemort and crave Dark Magic. Why are you targeting only him?!"

Sirius was stunned—he genuinely felt a tangible sense of authority emanating from Harry. Well, although he didn't want to admit it, Sirius had indeed felt a similar sense of authority from his own father when he was a child.

"...Actually, it wasn't just him. We also targeted other Slytherin students... Uh, you still don't quite understand... And you spoke about James and Lily's situation rather casually, it sounded like it wasn't your business..."

Sirius was muttering something under his breath, but Harry couldn't be bothered to listen.

“Snape is my friend. He helped me a lot when I was learning the art of potions. I don’t want to see you arguing or cursing at each other—not even with spells,” Harry explained simply.

"The art of potions!" Sirius stared at Harry in shock. "I'm sure you inherited Lily's talent; she was really good at potions—but Harry, listen to what you just said! You sounded like a little snotty-nosed brat! Ugh!!"

Sirius Black suddenly screamed; he had been electrocuted. Harry reacted quickly.

“I told you not to say things like that again,” Harry said irritably. “Don’t worry, Snape has put aside your hatred and agreed to my request. At most, he’ll just make the potion he makes for you a little more bitter.”

(End of this chapter)