The Return to Hogwarts

"Hogwarts? That doesn't sound like a respectable place!"

“Indeed--” Amosta looked at the old man, who was somewhat reckless in both appearance and personality, and couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s not exactly upright. It’s a school for disciplining problem children. Many of the kids have been sent to prison for committing crimes after graduation.”

Sirius rolled his eyes at Amosta.

Amosta Blaine's power had always made everyone subconsciously overlook his age, and Sirius had always treated him as an equal. But it was only when Sirius was with this kind Muggle old man that he realized Amosta was just a young man in his early twenties.

Although he was quite old, old John's mind was still very sharp. He realized the gray-haired young man was just joking, and he chuckled a few times in return. While pouring tea for Sirius, he squinted and carefully examined Sirius. After filling the cup, he nodded in satisfaction.

"Looks like you've found your life, young man—"

"Yes, although there were some twists and turns, the final result was quite good."

Sirius took a deep breath and said, stroking the rim of his glass, smiling as he looked at the robust eighty-year-old man.

"How are you? Does your leg still hurt?"

"I'm afraid I'll have to carry this old ailment to my grave!"

After pouring tea for the gray-haired young man, old John tossed the kettle onto the table, looked around, and finding nowhere to sit, simply propped himself up on the edge of the table.

"Speaking of which, what are you planning to do now that you've come back, young man?"

"Just call me Sirius—I promised you, John, that I would come back to see you whenever I had the chance. After all, you saved my life—"

"Still full of lies, just like before!"

Old John muttered something, and his blunt remarks made Sirius's face flush slightly with embarrassment.

"You seem more honest, little guy. You don't seem like the smooth-talking type!"

Old John then turned his gaze to Amosta.

Little one. It's been a long time since anyone called me that.

Amosta chuckled for a moment, but considering this man was a World War II veteran, it wasn't a problem for him to call him that, given his age. Amosta scratched his cheek.

"Yes, Mr. John, we plan to set sail from here—"

"Go to sea?"

Old John smacked his lips, his weathered face etched with the marks of time, his brow furrowed deeply.

"Going out to sea this season is not a good choice. Typhoons could come at any time. Unless you're planning to commit suicide, I don't recommend you do it!"

Chapter 421 Departure

2023-08-14

A bright, clear moon slowly rose from the sea and laboriously climbed into the sky.

Under a cloudless night sky, waves crashed against the shore reefs one after another. The mechanical, repetitive sound of the waves initially seemed to possess a cleansing power, but after a while, it inevitably disturbed one's sleep. Inside the lighthouse perched atop a large rock, old John was already snoring loudly, while on the first floor, illuminated by dim electric lights, Sirius and Amosta were still busy with some tasks.

The flame from the alcohol lamp scorched the crucible on the shelf, inside which a dark brown, viscous solution was bubbling.

"Excuse me, one-fifth of an ounce of Hocrab juice—"

Amosta remained calm, intently watching the semi-finished potion in the crucible. When the brown liquid began to bubble and then multiplied into numerous smaller bubbles, he calmly gave his instructions.

Meanwhile, Sirius, who had been waiting in ambush, immediately pounced on the square table by the window, squinted, and began rummaging through a pile of bottles and jars. Finally, he picked out a glass bottle about the size of a thumb and handed it to Amosta.

"What you gave me was the secretion of the spotted mango—"

Amosta didn't even look up, staring at the bubbles as he spoke sternly.

"That stuff is an essential ingredient in Mrs. Scowle's all-purpose stain remover. If you want to poison your savior, I wouldn't mind adding a couple of drops, Sirius—"

Sirius felt a lump in his throat. He quickly withdrew his hand from the bottle and searched the table with difficulty.

“The light green bottle on your right,” Amosta sighed softly, a hint of helplessness in her voice.

With the precise hint, Sirius finally located the object. After a fifth of an ounce of Hoclup's juice was added, the brown solution immediately turned dark green and emitted a thick plume of smoke. Just inhaling a tiny amount caused Sirius to feel a burning pain in his throat, while Old John, separated by a wooden board, coughed violently in his sleep.

Sirius quickly opened the window to let the acrid smoke escape, then immediately looked at Amostella, wondering if it had failed. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Amostella stirring the potion, which was gradually changing from dark green to light green, with his wand, rotating it seven times clockwise and then once counter-clockwise.

"No failure?"

"Don't make such a cruel joke--"

Amosta remained focused.

"If I hadn't spent so much time on spells and hadn't had so little time for other subjects, I could have easily earned the titles of Potions Master and Fantastic Creatures Expert."

Sirius let out a sigh of relief, shrugged, and walked to the only stool in the living room.

"When I was at Hogwarts, I did well in most of my classes, but I didn't like Potions. Mainly, I disliked Professor Slughorn, who taught Potions. That guy was always trying to persuade me to leave Gryffindor and go to Slytherin—"

“I heard some things about Professor Slughorn from Dirk Claythway, the current head of the Goblin Liaison Office at the Ministry of Magic,”

Amosta rubbed his smoke-filled eyes.

"He seems to particularly enjoy interacting with gifted young wizards, haha, that's Slytherin style--"

"Objectively speaking, he's not particularly annoying, but this one quirk is a bit of a headache."

Sirius said in a complaining tone, his bottom barely touching the stool when Amosta said urgently,

"Don't just stand there, five porcupine quills!"

Porcupine quills are much easier to find than Hocrab juice, and this time, Sirius didn't make a mistake.

When Amosta dropped the porcupine quill into the clear solution that had turned a bright green, the previously calm surface began to boil again. A large amount of water vapor evaporated from the potion, and the half-full pot of solution sank at a visible speed. In just half a minute, only a small clump of crystal-clear liquid, like autumn dew, remained at the bottom of the pot.

Amosta waved his wand, and the liquid flew into a clean glass bottle. After extinguishing the flame, Amosta twisted his neck and finally breathed a sigh of relief.

"Done?"

Under the dim light, Sirius examined the seemingly alive, gravity-defying liquid in the bottle, his voice tinged with a hint of nervousness.

“A leg injury that has lasted for half a century is indeed not easy to treat. Considering his age, I adjusted the concentration of the medicine. The entire repair period will probably last for more than ten days. He probably won’t be very comfortable during these days, but once he gets through these days, his leg and some of the hidden injuries in his body will basically be healed.”

"Thanks--"

Sirius clutched the bottle tightly, then smiled sincerely at Amosta, who was putting the bottles and jars on the table back into his suitcase.

“You’re even more special than Professor Slughorn, Amostall. You know what I mean, right? People from that house have always been hostile towards Muggles, yet you’re willing to go to the trouble of brewing healing potions for an old Muggle you have no connection with. Honestly, a decade or so ago, I wouldn’t have believed that Slytherin had someone like that—”

Amosta had heard similar comments many times before; he simply waved his hand dismissively.

"Consider it payment for the meals these two days. I really like Old John's stew; it's even better than the cooking of those little elves at school."

Sirius smiled and didn't say anything more.

Through the oil-stained and dusty glass windows, Amosta gazed out at the night. The cool air caused a thick fog to rise from the coast, which, carried by the cold wind, gradually engulfed the small town built on the open land.

The moonlight grew hazy, and the sea, shrouded in mist, appeared somewhat mysterious.

Just like before setting off with Vitia Kriona for Merlin's eternal rest, Amosta had a vague premonition that this trip would likely lead to some surprising events. Turning his gaze back inside, Amosta watched Sirius Black secretly administering medicine to Old John, a hint of hesitation in his eyes.

Going to Azkaban wouldn't be difficult for him now. As long as he applied to the Ministry of Magic under the guise of an academic visit, the Ministry wouldn't refuse him. However, the Ministry would definitely send someone to accompany him, and if something happened, the aftermath would be very difficult.

Amosta wasn't worried that Sirius would spread his secrets everywhere. Sirius was a man of principle, willing to spend over a decade in Azkaban for his own redemption rather than reveal the truth of his innocence. Amosta trusted him to keep it a secret. However, he couldn't control the risks of this journey.

After feeding Old John his medicine and using magic to put the old man into a peaceful sleep, Sirius breathed a sigh of relief, bowed slightly to Old John, and looked on with gratitude in his eyes.

If he could, Sirius would have liked to bring old John to London to live with him, but he never mentioned it once, because he knew that this sea was the only place for the old man's soul, and that old John would not go anywhere else.

Looking at the messy surroundings, Sirius grinned in the dim light.

Once Harry graduates from Hogwarts and finds a life partner, he can move in and accompany this kind old man through the final stages of his life.

After descending the creaking stairs, Sirius glanced at Amostella, who was standing in the doorway scrutinizing him. With just one glance, Sirius was immediately startled.

He saw a deep hesitation in Amosta's eyes as he looked at him, which was unusual. He had known Amosta for a while, and the guy was usually very decisive; he rarely sensed this kind of emotion in him.

"What's wrong, Amosta?"

"nothing--"

Amosta averted his gaze and pursed his lips.

"But—I think you probably know that my trip to Azkaban isn't to mess with those Dementors or the criminals in the jail. I'm investigating some things, and those things might be risky—"

Sirius suddenly realized, then smiled.

Are you afraid of involving me?

"That's true--"

Amosta appeared calm.

“I don’t want to lie to you, Sirius. I don’t know what we’ll encounter, but I can assure you that if we’re in danger, neither I nor Dumbledore can control the situation. Harry has finally found a family member, and if something happens to you, he’ll probably break down.”

"Yes, he's bound to suffer a blow."

Sirius smiled, as if they weren't talking about himself.

"But I believe in him. Harry is as brave as his father. Even if something happens to me one day, Harry will be able to face life bravely, and I—"

Sirius's smile turned somewhat mischievous, instantly giving him a resemblance to his confident and carefree youth, despite his weathered appearance.

“Taking care of Harry is my inescapable responsibility, Amosta, but if this is all I have left to do for the rest of my life, I’d rather die a quick and painless death in the sea!”

The lighthouse's light dimmed slightly in the early morning light. Amostella was using magic to widen and tidy up the rusty cabin. They would have to spend at least two weeks on the fishing boat that Old John had given them, and without magical reinforcement and making it more comfortable, they wouldn't be able to endure the rest of their drifting days.

Facing the cool sea breeze, Sirius Black looked up at the dim starry sky, a smile playing on his lips.