When Sirius finally heard Harry call him "godfather," he smiled.
For the first time, that gaunt, shrunken face worn down by prolonged malnutrition broke into a smile so bright and radiant.
From their initial meeting until now, Sirius had actually smiled more than once, and each time it had been genuine.
However, this smile, born from finally resolving the knot in his heart, brought such an astonishing transformation that it seemed as if someone ten years younger emerged from behind that haggard mask.
In this moment, Harry could finally recognize that the Sirius before him was the same person who had been laughing at his parents' wedding.
"Sorry, but I have to throw cold water on you two."
Just then, a somewhat discordant voice spoke up.
Under the surprised gazes of the two, Sherlock said quietly.
"Mr. Black, Harry can't live with you completely yet, at least not until he comes of age."
"Why not?"
Sirius immediately demanded. His voice contained immense anger and grievance. "Who won't allow it? The Dursleys, Dumbledore, or—"
"I'm afraid it's none of them."
Sherlock looked at Sirius's face, which looked ready to devour someone, and gave his answer directly.
"It's Voldemort."
"Voldemort?"
Sirius was stunned. Voldemort was being rather meddlesome, wasn't he?
Besides, hadn't he already disappeared? How could he still interfere with my affairs?
Wait, that's not even the point here!
Even if Voldemort returned, he couldn't stop me from being with Harry!
"Ah, sorry, Godfather—"
Once he'd started using the term, Harry found calling Sirius "godfather" came more and more naturally. "I forgot to tell you just now, because of that spell, I have to stay at Aunt Petunia's for at least one month every year."
Sirius shook his head in confusion.
"I don't understand."
"When Harry's mother was dying, she sacrificed her life to invoke an ancient protective charm."
Sherlock quickly explained. "It can protect Harry from Voldemort's harm until he comes of age, but the magic only works when he stays with someone who shares his mother's blood.
Harry's aunt is the only person in this world who meets that requirement."
"Magic cast at the cost of one's life—I understand now."
Sirius had been a powerful wizard, and though twelve years of imprisonment had left his mind somewhat foggy, he had begun a slow recovery from the moment he escaped, free from the Dementors' influence.
Now, reunited with Harry, his spirits were even higher, joy reinvigorated him, and his reactions quickened considerably.
So, when Sherlock explained it this way, he immediately understood.
Though deep down he truly wanted to take responsibility for caring for his godson, those twelve years in prison had taught Sirius to understand priorities.
If Voldemort truly returned, Sirius alone certainly couldn't protect Harry.
When that time came, the magic left by a great mother for her son would prove invaluable.
A regretful expression came across his face. "In that case—"
"But that doesn't matter at all!"
Seeing this, Harry quickly said, "We have very long summer holidays. I only need to spend one month at Privet Drive each summer.
That's how I've done it these past two years, once I've stayed for a month, I leave.
The first summer I stayed at Ron's house, and this summer I stayed at Sherlock's.
Besides summer holidays, there's also Christmas and Easter. Apart from that one month, whenever I'm not at Hogwarts, I can live with you."
Hearing Harry's eager explanation, Sirius smiled genuinely once more.
"Then it's settled, Harry."
Being able to openly and legitimately resume responsibility for caring for Harry made him feel that continuing to deal diplomatically with the Ministry of Magic wasn't so difficult to accept after all.
For the rest of their journey, they didn't speak much, and Sirius picked up his pace.
Even Harry felt the return journey took less time than the trip there, and it wasn't as arduous—he attributed it to high spirits bringing renewed energy.
"I'll go up first and make that thing stop."
When they reached the tunnel entrance, Sirius paused, listening to the sound of the Whomping Willow's branches lashing about, then turned to Sherlock and Harry.
"Sorry, Harry, there's one more thing I want to apologize for.
On the day you played Quidditch, I just wanted to see you flying in the air, but I didn't expect my appearance would frighten you badly."
"No, that was because of the Dementors, it had nothing to do with you!"
Sirius shook his head, then transformed before Sherlock and Harry into the large black dog Harry had seen twice before, and agilely jumped up.
"Large in size yet remarkably agile, no wonder he could cross the sea to see you."
Watching this scene, Sherlock's gaze became thoughtful.
"Sherlock, thank you," Harry said, his eyes growing moist. "If it weren't for you, I can't imagine what would have happened—"
"No need for more thanks, my dear friend, though it seems you'll be going to a new home this holiday."
"Yes, a new home..."
In that moment, Harry was already imagining a beautiful future life.
Just then, the sound of the willow's thrashing branches stopped, and Harry and Sherlock climbed up one after another.
The three of them left the Whomping Willow's attack range.
Having resumed human form, Sirius looked up at the sky, feeling as if a lifetime had passed.
When he'd escaped from Azkaban, he had thought himself free.
But the double manhunt from both the magical and Muggle worlds, plus the immense oppressive presence of the Dementors, had left him unable to eat or sleep peacefully.
Sherlock had seen it accurately, he had indeed prepared anxiety-relieving herbs in his food.
If he hadn't done that, he feared he truly couldn't have held on.
But today—
Today he had finally gained true freedom.
This freedom came not just to his body, but more importantly to his spirit.
The sun hadn't completely set yet, but the distant castle windows already glowed with light.
The three looked at each other.
"Where to?" Sirius asked.
Harry looked at Sherlock.
"First we'll find our headmaster. I wrote to him before coming—ha, but it seems unnecessary. Someone's coming to meet us."
"Who?"
Sirius noticed where Sherlock and Harry were looking and immediately turned around.
When he saw that familiar face, his body stiffened, then began to tremble.
"My old friend, if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I'd find it hard to believe you'd present yourself this way."
Professor Remus John Lupin stood quietly not far from the three of them, staring intently at Sirius.
He wore a slight smile and said in a relaxed tone. "You look exactly like me on a full moon night."
"Remus—"
Sirius walked quickly to Lupin's side and gripped his hand tightly.
Then the two embraced tightly like brothers.
"Oh, forgive me, Remus..."
Sirius's tears flowed continuously, dripping onto Lupin.
"I suspected you once, so I didn't tell you about James and Lily changing Secret-Keepers. I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"
Only upon seeing the shabbily dressed Professor Lupin did Sirius realize how much harm his actions all those years ago had caused to how many people.
"Not at all, Padfoot, old friend."
Remus seemed unconcerned. He patted Sirius's back gently.
"Then please forgive me for once thinking you were the traitor, all right?"
"Of course!"
A hint of a smile passed across Sirius's haggard face. He released Lupin, and the two looked into each other's eyes, then began laughing heartily together.
In this moment, the slight barrier between the two surviving members of that old team completely disappeared, and the two men finally reached an understanding.
"They actually suspected each other?"
Harry was shocked by this scene.
Before coming to see Sirius, Sherlock had mentioned that Sirius didn't trust Professor Lupin as much as Hermione claimed.
But Harry hadn't expected that Professor Lupin likewise hadn't trusted Sirius.
'Why was that?'
"Obviously, my friend."
Sherlock looked at the shocked Harry and patted his shoulder.
"Great friendship can withstand the test of time. During the Wizarding War, some werewolves sided with Voldemort.
Because of Professor Lupin's special status, Sirius had his suspicions.
When he suggested to your parents that they change Secret-Keepers, he chose the seemingly insignificant Peter instead of the docile werewolf Lupin precisely for this reason.
It was also because of this suspicion that he didn't tell Lupin about the change.
Conversely, Lupin likewise had suspicions about Sirius because he was, after all, from the Black family.
In fact, both their suspicions weren't entirely groundless. Because there really was a traitor in the Order of the Phoenix.
Unfortunately, they both suspected the wrong person. From this perspective, Wormtail was truly successful.
He not only deceived the members of their small group but also everyone in the Order of the Phoenix.
Even the cunning old Dumbledore was fooled by him. And this deception lasted a full twelve years."
After hearing Sherlock's words, Harry fell silent.
One betrayal had caused permanent harm.
Peter Pettigrew truly deserved death!
Just then, Professor Lupin also turned to Sherlock and Harry and explained to them.
"After receiving your letter, the headmaster asked me to come meet you, he'd also guessed where Padfoot was hiding.
I originally wanted to go down to find you, but then decided to wait for you here—after all, the air's better up here."
After this joke, Professor Lupin became serious.
"Professor Dumbledore said that if you're ready, you can go see him directly.
Oh, and the Minister of Magic, Fudge, happens to be there as well."
"Fudge—did Dumbledore notify him to come?"
"No, it's about something else."
At this point, an odd expression crossed Lupin's face, giving the impression he was suppressing something.
"He came to ask Dumbledore for help."
"Help?"
"You'll find out when you see them," Lupin waved his hand, not wanting to waste time on this topic. "Sherlock, shall we go now?"
Sirius couldn't help but feel somewhat surprised.
From Lupin's behavior, it wasn't difficult to see his respect for Sherlock.
He understood Lupin's character, apart from that one shameful moment of suspicion but it was still hard to imagine a professor showing such respect to a student. This was indeed somewhat unusual.
However, on second thought, it was Sherlock who had single-handedly solved this twelve-year-old mystery. He immediately felt reassured.
Leaving aside everything else, just the fact that he'd helped him and Lupin resolve their misunderstanding was enough to make them both immensely grateful.
Not to mention he'd done far more than just that.
He looked at Harry with an indulgent gaze.
My godson's friend is truly a remarkable person!
"Let's go now."
Facing Lupin's inquiry, Sherlock said without hesitation, "If we're fast enough, Harry can go home with Mr. Black tomorrow."
Upon hearing Sherlock mention this, Sirius immediately felt his energy renewed—his back didn't ache, his legs didn't hurt, and walking became easier.
On the way to the headmaster's office, Sirius and Lupin walked ahead, the two having much to discuss after years apart.
"So, you're planning to have Harry come live with you?"
"Yes, that was always James and Lily's intention, but I messed it up."
"Don't say that, old friend. None of us expected this to happen. Peter, he—"
"Better to die than betray a friend! He deserved exactly what he got!"
"Yes, yes, so his fate was worse than death."
"All I can do now is take good care of the boy, in my capacity as godfather—
Remus, tell me, what kind of person is Harry in your view? Is he very much like James? Brave, willing to risk everything for his friends..."
"And kind, tolerant, with a pure heart. In my opinion, he's actually more like Lily..."
Sherlock and Harry followed not far behind them, not deliberately listening to their conversation.
Sherlock shrugged at Harry. "Well then, we've resolved the biggest problem in the first term this year—I can imagine I'll be very bored for quite some time to come."
Harry couldn't help but smile. "Sherlock, you sound like you're expecting unusual things to happen at Hogwarts every year."
"My dear Harry, before your godfather escaped, I even felt Azkaban was safer than Hogwarts."
"How could—"
Harry had been about to object.
How could Hogwarts, a place of education, be compared to the world's most terrible prison?
But thinking about how in first and second year, Voldemort had come to give them personal practical lessons in Defense Against the Dark Arts at the end of each term, he suddenly felt he had no grounds for rebuttal.
Oh no, it really was like that!
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