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Sirius Black had sharp eyes, and the moment he spotted the Slytherin vixen standing behind Harry, his eyelid twitched.
That wicked Slytherin witch! Keep your hands off my godson!
But he didn't voice the thought, as it felt a tad ungrateful. Everyone seemed convinced this woman had saved him, but Sirius would never believe a Slytherin could have such a kind heart.
She's definitely holding a grudge against me! Sirius thought venomously to himself.
Veratia Grindelwald noticed his glare and flashed him a meaningful smile, her expression clear: If you dare interfere with me and your godson, just wait and see.
Sirius took a deep breath and forced himself to look away. It wasn't that he genuinely believed Veratia wanted to harm him or anything like that. It was just… the idea of making a fool of himself (quite literally) in front of Snivellus was unbearable.
If James found out, he'd laugh himself to death!
He turned his gaze to Harry.
Harry was unmistakable, standing out in the crowd like a firefly in the dead of night. The scar on his forehead, the unruly hair, and the half-visible licorice wand poking out of his pocket all betrayed him—not to mention that face, almost identical to James's.
Only the eyes were different.
"Harry?" Sirius stepped forward, his voice trembling slightly, a mix of formality and hesitation.
Suddenly, he regretted not cleaning up before coming to the Headmaster's office. Would he have looked better, less like a bedraggled tramp? Would Harry think less of him for it?
But before he could dwell further, someone barreled into his arms.
"Sirius!" Harry hugged him tightly. "Merlin's beard, I can't believe this is real—"
Harry wasn't pretending. He was genuinely moved by Sirius's escape from Azkaban to protect him at Hogwarts. In a world where true loyalty was rare—at least in Harry's mind—Sirius, his parents' dear friend and his godfather, was a treasure.
Even a legendary wizard from a century ago craved family with a fierce longing.
"Harry," Poppy Sweating interjected gently, "Mr. Black truly loves you—can you imagine, he even ate rats for you…"
"Rats?" Harry looked at Sirius, puzzled.
Sirius sheepishly turned his face away, staring at the Headmaster's office ceiling. "Oh, it was nothing. Just a stretch in the forest with no food. Rats aren't a big deal."
"And this afternoon, he ate spider venom glands," Veratia added with a saccharine smile. "If I hadn't found him in time and taken him to Professor Snape's office, he'd probably be dead by now."
Sirius's face darkened at the mention. Lupin, standing nearby, cleared his throat pointedly.
"Ahem…"
"Are you catching a cold, Professor?" Veratia asked with mock concern.
"Thank you, Miss Grindelwald," Sirius said through gritted teeth, his tone painfully stiff. "Thank you for saving my life."
"You're welcome, Mr. Black," Veratia replied, still smiling sweetly. "Harry's my dear friend, so his godfather is… well, someone I respect. It's only right."
You were going to say his godfather is your godfather too, weren't you?
Weren't you?!
Sirius seethed inwardly but forced a cheerful smile. Merlin, the thought of Harry falling into this scheming woman's clutches was unbearable…
I've failed you, Prongs!
Sirius let out a silent, mournful wail in his heart.
"You really should thank Miss Grindelwald for saving your mangy hide," came a sneering voice from nearby. Sirius looked up to see a swish of greasy black hair—Snape.
"Snivellus, you should wash that mop of yours," Sirius shot back.
To his surprise, Snape didn't bristle. Instead, he countered coolly, "Oh, is this the Gryffindor honor you're so proud of? That's how you thank your savior? I'd hoped your godson might teach you some manners."
"Enough, Severus, Sirius," Dumbledore interjected, halting the verbal sparring between the old rivals. "I'm delighted you've been cleared of all charges, Sirius—"
"Thank you, Professor Dumbledore," Sirius said, straightening up. He nodded to the other professors. "Good to see you, Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout."
The three professors nodded back, McGonagall especially beaming at seeing Sirius safe and sound.
"The Daily Prophet mentioned they'd love an exclusive interview when we found you," Dumbledore continued. "They're curious about your journey these past years, and why you suddenly decided to switch the Secret-Keeper…"
"That was my mistake," Sirius admitted quietly. "My fault. I shouldn't have suggested it."
"Oh, it's in the past," Dumbledore said kindly. "No need to dwell on it. Now that Pettigrew's been brought to justice, what are your plans?"
"Dumbledore!" Phineas Black's portrait called from the wall. "We had an agreement! My fine great-grandson must stay at Hogwarts…"
Snape's face twisted in disgust. "Let this mangy Black dog teach?" he sneered, eyeing Sirius. "What, so the whole school can learn to bark at passersby?"
Truthfully, Sirius had been ready to decline—he was too much a free spirit for a teaching job. But if it riled Snivellus, then by Merlin, he'd stay just to stick it to him!
Ignoring Snape, Sirius opened his mouth to agree, but a thought stopped him. "Hold on, dear great-grandfather," he said, eyeing Phineas's portrait suspiciously. "Didn't you call me a traitor to the Black family? Why the sudden change of heart?"
"Because your godson is Harry Potter!" Phineas declared, puffing out his chest as if it were the grandest honor—one worthy of making the Black family crypt glow green with pride.
Ever since Phineas learned Harry Potter's godfather was his great-grandson, his ego had inflated tenfold. Harry's legendary feats—quelling the goblin rebellion and dismantling the Ashwinder faction—were undeniable.
And now, the Black family's most wayward son, the Gryffindor runaway Sirius, had snagged the legendary wizard Harry as his godson. Was this part of your plan, great-grandson?
"Oh, it's an honor I share," Sirius said with a grin, brushing off his tattered robes.
He turned to pat Harry's shoulder but hesitated, retracting his hand. He was too filthy; he didn't want to soil his godson's clothes.
"Then you'll serve as assistant professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts," Dumbledore said promptly, assigning Sirius a fitting role. It wasn't arbitrary—Lupin, for reasons known to a select few, needed a few days off each month, and Sirius could fill in.
"Black and Lupin, birds of a feather," Snape muttered under his breath.
Regardless, Sirius's appointment as assistant professor was inevitable. Snape had no grounds to object. Black was no longer a fugitive but a hero who'd risked everything for his friends.
I'll find another way to get him, Snape thought darkly, though he felt a twinge of regret. He could no longer subtly hint to students that Lupin was a werewolf.
No matter. There was time.
"Well, I think you all could use some catching up—or perhaps a hot bath," Dumbledore said with a chuckle. "Life on the run hasn't been kind, Sirius. As Hogwarts' headmaster, I'm thrilled you're cleared and can live in the sunlight again. But after over a decade in Azkaban, you'll need time to readjust."
"Yes, Professor," Sirius said cheerfully.
He planned to sleep in the abandoned second-floor classroom, a spot he used to frequent. After getting Dumbledore's approval, the headmaster gladly agreed.
As they left the office, Sirius whispered something cryptic to Harry before departing with Lupin.
Harry wanted to ask about his father, James, but he knew Sirius needed a bath, a meal, and a visit to Madam Pomfrey's hospital wing.
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