0222 Sirius-Black

0222 Sirius-Black

Bryan led Hermione, Ron, and Harry, who had calmed down a bit after the cold wind had numbed their senses, through the winding corridors adorned with festive holly and mistletoe ribbons. He proudly told the three young wizards that he had made these decorations himself.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed Professor Watson to his office on the third floor, feeling a mix of curiosity and dread. They knew this place well, unlike most of the other students, who rarely got a chance to see the inside of the Ex-DADA teacher's lair.

Professor Watson's office looked the same as always, except for a new set of plush sofas and wooden coffee tables at the far end of the door side, where there used to be nothing but empty space. The furniture made the office seem less shabby and more cozy, as if inviting them to sit and chat.

Outside the window, the snow was still pristine white, and snowflakes like fluffy dandelions floated in the air, gently landing on the window sill. The temperature kept dropping, and the sky had not cleared for a week, making the days gloomy and short. The surface of the huge black lake was covered with a thin layer of ice, and it would probably freeze over soon, trapping the giant squid and the Mer-people underneath.

"Let's get to the point, Harry." Bryan said, breaking the silence. He invited them to sit down on the new sofas, took out his wand, and threw a ball of fire to light the fireplace. Then he sat on the sofa by the wall, facing them.

"Are you blaming me for not telling you the truth?" He asked, his voice calm but stern.

Ron and Hermione sat on Harry's left and right, under Professor Watson's piercing gaze. They did not dare to move, but they tried to remind Harry not to be too impulsive with their eyes and nudges. They knew how much this topic hurt Harry, and how angry he was with everyone who kept him in the dark.

"You-, I mean, everyone seems to think that I don't need to know these things." Harry said, his voice trembling with anger.

He knew he should be calm, because Professor Watson had not killed his parents. But when Professor Watson asked him bluntly, Harry's heart burst into flames, burning him all over. He raised his head abruptly, staring at Professor Watson's purple eyes, which seemed to see through him.

"My parents died at the hands of his best friend, and now that person wants to break into Hogwarts and kill me. But-"

Harry gasped, feeling a lump in his throat. "Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Hagrid, the Ministry of Magic, and you. Everyone thinks I don't need to know all this."

"Harry." Hermione said softly, winking at him anxiously. But Harry ignored her.

"Do you know what I hear when the Dementors come near me, Professor? I hear my mother screaming, begging Voldemort. She wasn't begging for herself, but for me. And their fate was because they trusted a-"

He didn't spat out the last word, as if it tasted bitter in his mouth.

"Brother, we've talked about this before, and Black will get what he deserves, I promise!" Ron said, speaking up bravely. He noticed that Professor Watson's eyes had darkened, as if a storm was brewing in them.

Hermione was in tears, clutching Harry's arm.

Harry almost shouted those words. He thought Professor Watson would defend himself, give some noble reasons, or say some comforting words like Hermione and Ron. But he didn't. Professor Watson just looked at him coldly.

A few seconds later, a man appeared, and they recognized his cruel face. Harry, Hermione, and Ron all felt as if a cold hand had gripped their hearts, squeezing them painfully.

It was Sirius Black!

Harry swore he would never forget this face, no matter how long he lived. It was the same as the one on the Muggle TV news and the wizard's wanted order, which he had seen countless times. The man had a gaunt and haggard face, as if he had suffered a lot. His hair was dirty and tangled, hanging over his forehead. And his cracked lips were below two rows of dark yellow teeth, which looked like rotten wood.

He was wearing the dirty prison clothes of Azkaban, the black and white stripes that marked him as a criminal. And he was so thin that one could count his ribs, as if he had not eaten for days. He looked like a skeleton a walking corpse.

'Black' took the dagger from Bryan's hand, circled the coffee table, and approached Harry step by step, with bloodthirsty excitement in his gloomy eyes. He looked like a predator, stalking his prey.

'Black' reversed the dagger, pointed the sharp blade at himself, and handed the handle to Harry. His mouth cracked open, almost like a boggart.

"If you want to avenge your parents, Potter-" 'Black's hoarse voice was like grinding dry bat corpses in Professor Snape's class, the sound that made Harry's skin crawl. He grinned ferociously, showing his rotten teeth.

"Then kill me, just use this dagger to aim at my neck, and stab it hard."

He moved closer to Harry, as if he was inviting him to do it. Harry retreated subconsciously, but he forgot that there was a sofa behind him. He fell on his butt, and the fear in his eyes overwhelmed the hatred.

"Use this dagger to stab my neck, Potter, and let my blood splash all over you. Come on, I'm waiting for you to do it." 'Black' taunted him, as if he wanted to provoke him.

"No" Harry kept shrinking back, shaking his head, and avoiding the dagger desperately. His cheeks were pale as the snow on the playground, and his lips were trembling.

"Stop it!" Hermione cried out, covering her face. She did not dare to look at 'Black' who was approaching Harry.

Suddenly, the thick oppressive aura in the office was gone. The firewood in the fireplace was burning again, and the warmth quickly dispelled the cold. It was as if the whole world had become bright and normal again.

'Black' and the dagger turned into a few wisps of slowly falling ashes, as if they had never existed.

Bryan tilted his head, looking at Harry who had gone stupid, and smiled slightly,

"Where is your courage, Potter?"

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