Chapter 209: Crazy Black
"Who is Sirius? Is he famous?"
"Sirius escaped from prison!"
"Got out of Azkaban already?"
"Why is the Daily Prophet so slow?"
As Sirius Black revealed his identity, murmurs and whispers spread rapidly among the students.
"Wait… Peter Pettigrew's not dead?"
"Is he Ron's rat?" Harry immediately connected the dots.
"What?" Ron froze. He had already heard from Harry that Sirius might be innocent, and even Professor McGonagall didn't seem to treat him as a threat. Still, Ron clutched Scabbers tightly, looking anxious. "What does my rat have to do with anything?"
"It's not a rat," Sirius said suddenly, his voice hoarse.
"What do you mean? Of course it's a rat—"
"No, it's not," Sirius snapped, eyes burning. "He's a wizard!"
"A wizard?" Professor McGonagall asked sharply. "Is he… an Animagus? Peter Pettigrew?"
Sirius hesitated, then said bitterly, "I'm sorry. James and I lied to you. The three of us—James, Peter, and I—we were all unregistered Animagi."
"This is impossible," Ron said in disbelief. "Scabbers—he's been with us for nearly eleven years!"
"Percy gave him to me!" Ron shouted, as Scabbers shrieked and clawed frantically, scratching Ron's face and neck in his attempt to escape.
"Give him to me! Now!" Sirius growled, wand raised. His knuckles had turned white from gripping it too tightly.
The crowd of students murmured anxiously. Draco, Harry, and Ron looked at each other with uncertainty.
"Show some respect to our little brother!" someone shouted.
"He's the hero who fights poachers of magical creatures! The one and only Ron Weasley, one-third of the Three Musketeers of the Dark Lord!"
No doubt—it was Fred and George.
Sirius took a deep breath, trying to control his temper as his gaze flicked to Harry's familiar features—so much like James—and then to McGonagall, who had already drawn her wand.
"Alright, alright," Sirius said. "Ron Weasley… can you hand him over?"
He crouched slightly, lowering his wand a bit. His sunken eyes never left Scabbers, who was trembling in Ron's hands.
"Weasley, your rat—Scabbers… may I inspect him?" Professor McGonagall spoke gently, then addressed the other students: "Everyone, please back away from this area."
The students gradually cleared out, leaving only Sirius, Ron, Harry, and Draco behind.
"Slytherin, huh?" Sirius narrowed his eyes at Draco. "A Malfoy brat… not planning anything, are you?"
"That's enough!" Ron snapped. "If you're Harry's godfather, then try acting like it! Don't insult my friend!"
Draco blinked, surprised. His eyes grew slightly wet.
"Godfather?"
"Sirius is Harry Potter's godfather!" Ron announced loudly.
More whispers rippled through the crowd.
Professor McGonagall stepped forward. "Mr. Black, please focus on the task at hand. Mr. Malfoy is a friend to both Ron and Harry. I don't believe he means any harm."
"Friend of Harry? Hah. He's a Slytherin!" Sirius growled.
Then, with a dazed expression, he looked at Harry. "When did you start making friends with Slytherins… like your mother?"
Sirius seemed momentarily lost in the past, seeing Lily Evans in Harry's place. But then his expression twisted with bitterness.
To others, Lily was a hero—a brilliant student, a kind friend. But to Sirius, who loved James above all, she was a distraction, a wedge.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry snapped, stepping forward.
Students stared, shocked. To them, Sirius was clearly unstable.
Since Voldemort's fall, Slytherin's reputation had softened. They were no longer seen as enemies—just a rival house with some annoying traditions.
Even Professor McGonagall, who had pitied Sirius a moment ago, began to reflect. She remembered her own inaction during Voldemort's rise… how the darkness had seeped into Slytherin, poisoning the atmosphere.
Sirius looked around and saw no applause, no admiration.
Back then, when he insulted Slytherins, students cheered. But now?
Now, they looked at him with confusion—or worse, pity.
He turned his eyes away from Harry's face—James's face—but filled with anger.
"I'm sorry, Harry. I just—"
Then, without warning, Sirius's face changed again.
"Enough waiting, Peter Pettigrew!" he shouted, switching moods abruptly.
His sorrow vanished. Focused and determined, he pointed his wand.
"Be careful—he's very old," Ron said cautiously, setting Scabbers on the ground. "He won't survive much excitement."
At the same moment, McGonagall cast a Petrificus Totalus, freezing Scabbers in place before he could run.
Sirius's deranged energy settled into eerie calm. No—joy.
He seemed to be speaking to someone unseen.
"Together?" he whispered.
No one responded.
Sirius smiled anyway.
"Count to three… one… two… three!"
His wand glowed bluish-white.
Scabbers lifted into the air, limbs flailing wildly.
"NO!" Ron shouted.
The mouse dropped to the floor.
Another blinding flash… then silence.
"No! That's not true!" Sirius shouted, lowering his wand in horror.
Whatever magic he had cast had undone McGonagall's spell.
Scabbers twitched… then bolted.
Ron scooped him up instantly, petting him protectively.
"Poor little guy," Ron muttered. "You're alright."
"Sirius," McGonagall interrupted. Her eyes were red. "You have a lot to explain to Harry. Shall we go to my office?"
"No… he must hate me now," Sirius said, voice heavy with regret.
"No, I don't," Harry said suddenly.
Everyone turned.
"You've just been locked in Azkaban for too long. You're not crazy—you're just… behind," Harry added.
"Yeah," Ron nodded. "And look—Scabbers is fine. As for Draco—well, his reputation's always been a bit shaky…"
Draco gave them both a weary smile. "Thanks, I guess."