Hogwarts Study Panel

Chapter 550, Episode 548: The Godfather (4k)

Black is Harry's godfather.

The news made Harry's head buzz; it was as if he had tinnitus, or as if a giant clock was constantly ringing in his ears.

Hermione covered her mouth, and Justin and Ron held Harry down, but their trembling bodies showed their unease.

The conversation ahead wasn't over yet. Sheen noticed the light and shadow on Harry's side were slightly distorted.

That's why Ha tried so hard to get closer.

His face was full of longing, but the world seemed to be separated from him by a layer of frosted glass.

"Because Blake is in cahoots with the mysterious man?"

Ms. Rosmerta's voice came through.

“It’s even worse than this, darling…”

Fudge lowered his voice and mumbled in a low voice,
"Not many people knew that the Potters knew the Manhunt was looking for them. Dumbledore was certainly working tirelessly against the Manhunt at the time, and he had some capable spies, one of whom confided in him."

He immediately alerted James and Lily, suggesting they take cover. Of course, evading the mysterious man was no easy task.

Dumbledore told them that the best way was to use the Faithful Charm.

"How do you use that spell?"

Ms. Rosmerta asked curiously, holding her breath.

Professor Flitwick cleared his throat.

"An extremely complex spell."

He explained in a shrill voice.

"Use magic to hide a secret within the soul of a living person. That secret is hidden in the heart of the chosen person—the keeper of the secret—and will never be discovered—unless, of course, the keeper of the secret reveals it voluntarily."

"As long as the keeper doesn't tell, the Mystic could search Lily and James' village for millennia and still not find them, even if he pressed his nose against their living room window!"

"So, Black is Potter's confidant?"

"Ms. Rosmerta asked quietly."

"nature."

Professor McGonagall said,
James Potter told Dumbledore that Black would rather die than reveal where they were, and that Black himself was prepared to go into hiding...

However, Dumbledore was still uneasy. I remember him offering to personally act as the Potters' confidant.

"He suspects Blake?"

Ms. Rosmerta asked in surprise.

"He concluded that someone close to the Potters had been reporting their movements to the Mysterious Man."

Professor McGonagall said somberly,

"In fact, for some time before, he had already suspected that one of us had betrayed us and provided a lot of intelligence to the mysterious man."

"But James insists on using Black?"

"Yes,"

Fudge said heavily,

"Then, the spell of unwavering loyalty had only been cast for less than a week—"

"Blake betrayed them?"

"Rosmerta asked in a low voice."

"Yes. Black is tired of his double agent role and is ready to publicly announce his support for Mysterio, and it seems he plans to do so the moment the Potters die."

However, we know that Vader was utterly defeated by Harry Potter. He lost his magic, became extremely weak, and could only flee.

This put Blake in a very awkward position. Just as he exposed his traitorous nature, his master fell from power. He had no choice but to flee in disgrace—”

"Despicable, vile traitor!"

Hagrid yelled, and half the bar fell silent.

Sheehan felt Harry's tears fall onto his arm.

"Shh!"

Professor McGonagall reminded Hagrid.

"I ran into him!"

Hagrid roared,
"I must be the last person to see him before he killed those people!"

After Lily and James died, I was the one who rescued Harry from his house!

I just pulled him out of the rubble. The poor little thing had a long wound on his forehead. His mom and dad are dead...

Then Sirius Black appeared, riding his old flying motorcycle.

I had no idea he was up to anything there. I didn't know he was Lily and James's secret agent. I thought he had just heard about the Mysterious Man's attack and rushed to their rescue.

The boy was pale and trembling. "Do you know what I did? I comforted that murderous traitor!"

Hagrid roared.

"Hagrid, please! Keep your voice down!"

Professor McGonagall said.

"How do you know he wasn't sad for Lily and James? He was concerned about Mystic!" Then he said:

'Give me Harry, Hagrid, I'm his godfather. I'll take care of him—'

Ha! But I had Dumbledore's orders, so I told Black no, and Dumbledore said Harry was going to his aunt and uncle's house.

What would happen if I handed Harry over to him? I bet he'd throw the kid off the bus in the middle of the ocean. His best friend's son! When a wizard joins the dark side, he'll care about nothing and recognize no one…”

After Hagrid finished telling his story, there was a long silence.

Later, Ms. Rosmerta said with a hint of satisfaction:

"But he couldn't escape, could he? The Ministry of Magic caught him the very next day!"

"Sigh, if only it were us."

Fudge said bitterly,

“We didn’t find him. It was Peter Pettigrew—another friend of the Potters. He must have been mad with grief, and knowing that Black was the Potters’ secret keeper, he went after Black himself.”

"Little Pettigrew...that chubby little boy, who always followed them around like a shadow at Hogwarts?"

"Ms. Rosmerta asked."

“They idolize Black and Potter like heroes.”

Professor McGonagall said,
“Talent-wise, he was never on the same level as them. I was often very strict with him. You can imagine how much I regret it now…”

The professor choked up.

"Alright, Minerva."

Fudge said gently,

"Sirius died a heroic death. The eyewitnesses—all Muggles, of course, whose memories we later erased—said that Pettigrew stopped Black, crying out, 'Lily and James! Sirius, how could you do this?' Then he drew his wand. Of course, Black was faster and blew Pettigrew to pieces..."

Professor McGonagall blew her nose and said in a muffled voice:

“Silly child…silly child…he has no hope in duels…it should be handed over to the Ministry of Magic…”

“Let me tell you, if I had stopped Black before Pettigrew, I wouldn’t have wasted my time pulling out my wand—I would have torn him to pieces!”

Hagrid said gruffly.

“You don’t know what you’re saying, Hagrid.”

Fudge said sarcastically,

"Only highly trained members of the Magic Law Enforcement Team could possibly succeed in cornering Black. At the time, I was the deputy director of the Department of Magical Disasters, and I was one of the first to arrive at the scene after Black killed them all."

I will never forget that scene; I still dream about it sometimes.

A huge crater had exploded in the middle of the street, so deep that even the sewers had cracked open. Corpses lay everywhere, and Muggles wailed and screamed. Black stood there laughing, and before him, all that remained of Little Star was… a pile of blood-stained robes and a few—a few fragments—”

Fudge's words suddenly stopped, and all that could be heard was the sound of five people blowing their noses.

“That’s it, Rosmerta.”

Fudge said in a muffled voice,

"Black was taken away by twenty members of the Magical Law Investigation Team, and Little Star was awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class. I suppose that's some comfort to his poor mother. Black has been imprisoned in Azkaban ever since."

Ms. Rosmerta let out a long sigh.

"Has he really gone mad, Minister?"

"I hope I can say yes,"

Fudge spoke slowly,

"I do believe that his master's downfall caused him to lose his mind for a time. Killing Little Pettigrew and so many Muggles was a desperate act—cruel... and pointless."

But I was surprised to find that Blake seemed perfectly normal. He spoke to me quite rationally. This made me uneasy.

You might think he's just bored—asking me if I've finished reading the newspaper, trying to sound as calm as possible, and even saying he really wants to do the crossword puzzle in the newspaper.

Honestly, I was quite surprised; the Dementors seemed to have very little effect on him—you know, he was one of the most heavily guarded criminals there. The Dementors kept watch outside his door day and night.

“But what do you think he wanted to do after escaping from prison?” Ms. Rosmerta asked.
"Oh my god, could it be that they're planning to go and seek refuge with the mysterious person?"

“I guess this is his—uh—final plan.”

Fudge gave a vague answer,

"But we hope to capture Blake before that. I must say, the situation where the Mystic is isolated and helpless is a predicament..."

But if he were allowed to retrieve his most loyal servant, he would quickly rise again. The thought of it sends chills down my spine…”

Sheehan heard a soft clinking sound as glass hit wood and saw Professor McGonagall put down her cup.

“You know, Connelly, if you’re going to have dinner with the headmaster, you’d better head back to the castle now.”

Professor McGonagall said.

The three brooms opened the door again, and a gust of wind and snow swept in again; the teachers were gone.

Justin and Ron both sensed that Harry had gone limp.

Their figures slowly emerged.

Neville and Hermione's faces appeared before Harry, and they both stared at him blankly, unsure of what to say.

Suddenly, Harry ran out of the bar like a madman.

No one expected it.

"I'm going to see him..."

Sheen spoke to the still-dazed young wizards, and whispered,

"Will."

Butler Pukchi appeared respectfully at the table.

It carefully took the little wizard's hand, and the two disappeared together.

Outside, snow was falling heavily.

In the distance, someone appeared in Harry's blurry world.

He stood in the middle of Hogsmeade Street, the crowd passing by him, yet he remained like a rock.

"Harry, are you going back to Hogwarts?"

The voice in the flying snow said.

Harry didn't want to speak, but those emerald eyes seemed to see right through people, so Harry nodded anyway.

His mouth was filled with a warm liquid, and his hand was grasped by a withered knuckle.

After a dizzying moment, Harry saw the empty dormitory.

He looked at Sheen in surprise; her eyes were still red.

Without time to figure out how Sheen knew, Harry sat on the bed, drew the curtains, and began flipping through the photo album page by page, searching...

He flipped to a photo of his parents' wedding and stopped.

His father waved to him with a beaming smile, his messy black hair, inherited from Harry, sticking out in all directions.

His mother looked radiant, happily holding hands with his father.

And... it must be him. Their best man... Harry had never even considered him before.

If he didn't know it was the same person, he would never have guessed that the person in this old photo was Blake.

His face was not sallow and sunken, but rather very handsome with a friendly smile.

Was he already working for Voldemort when this photo was taken?
Is he already plotting the deaths of the two people around him?
Did he realize that he was about to face twelve years in Azkaban prison, twelve years that would change him beyond recognition?
But the Dementors had no effect on him; Harry stared at that handsome, smiling face.

"He doesn't have to hear my mother's screams when the Dementors get close..."

Sheehan heard Harry's murmur.

Harry turned his head and looked at Sheen, tears streaming down his expressionless face.

"Are you going to tell me not to do anything foolish, Sheehan? Just like Mr. Weasley, telling me not to go to him?"

Sheen shook his head.

Harry's tense face suddenly relaxed, but his lips remained tightly pursed.

"Harry, I'm on your side."

He heard Sheen say that.

He felt like crying again.

"I will bring him to see you."

Sheen concluded.

Harry had no doubt about what Sheen said.

Just then, the magic hand mirror beeped.

“Harry, listen to me,”

Hermione was speaking in a panic.

"What we just heard must have made you very sad, but the important thing is that you must not do anything foolish."

"For example what?"

Harry asked.

"For example, go find Blake."

Ron hit the nail on the head.

"You won't, will you, Harry?"

Hermione asked.

"It's not worth dying for Black. The Dementors will catch Black and send him back to Azkaban—he deserves it!"

Ron said.

"Do you know what I see and hear every time a Dementor gets too close to me?"

Ron and Hermione fell silent.

“I heard my mother screaming, pleading with Voldemort. If you heard your own mother scream like that before she was killed, you wouldn’t forget it anytime soon—”

An unprecedented hatred coursed through Harry's body like poison.

He saw Blake laughing at him in the darkness, as if someone had stuck a photo from an album right in front of his eyes.

Like watching a movie, he saw Sirius Black blow Peter Pettigrew to pieces.

He also heard a voice whispering excitedly:
“It worked, Master… The Potters asked me to be their confidant.”

Then came another voice, a shrill, maniacal laugh, the very same laugh that echoed in Harry's mind whenever a Dementor drew near...

He looked at the photo again and again, recalling it over and over.

He heard his mother screaming and pleading with Voldemort.

But will Voldemort let her go?
He then thought of what Sheen had said.

We must thwart evil time and time again. Although it can never be killed, if we persist in doing so, one day it will be completely gone.

A thought had never been clearer than this: he saw the little wizard's calm green eyes, and he had the same eyes.

"I'm going to hunt him down."

Harry said calmly.

"Sheen!"

Hermione called out in a panic.

"We will catch the murderer who killed Harry's parents."

Sheen said.

Silence had fallen on the other end of the magic mirror.

All that could be heard was the panting sound of someone jogging.

It will happen tomorrow.

When Sheen obtains the fairy contract, Sirius will sneak into the castle; Lupin and he have been waiting for this day for a long time.

As for Harry, after they captured Peter, he had the right to know the truth.

"Sheen, have you made up your mind?"

Hermione's voice didn't sound very good, and it had some emphasis.

The door was flung open with a bang.

……

While Harry was being comforted, Sheen had already returned to Hogsmeade.

He stood at the entrance of a filthy tavern, watching a gruff old wizard wiping wine glasses.

Sheen naturally recognized him.

(End of this chapter)