Hogwarts' Golden Glory

"Do you know?"

Sirius's voice, tinged with laughter, carried on the wind: "The first time your father rode on my motorcycle, he was so scared that he threw up his entire lunch on Professor Sprout's potted plant."

Harry burst into laughter, his laughter carried away by the wind thousands of meters into the sky.

He stopped clutching the Godfather's clothes and opened his arms.

Feel the airflow passing through your fingers.

At this moment, he was no longer the "boy who survived a great calamity".

He was just an ordinary kid being taken for a drive by his godfather.

The moment the motorcycle landed beside the Black Lake at Hogwarts.

The students who were exercising collectively gasped in surprise.

Professor Risprout's mandrake plant fell to the ground with a "thud," scattering soil all over the ground.

"Merlin's beard!" Professor Sprout adjusted his askew hat. "Sirius Black?!"

Sirius Black casually hopped off his motorcycle, pushing his goggles up to his forehead: "Hey Pomona! Your Whomping Willow is still as sharp as ever—it almost bit off my wheel."

Before Harry could speak, two familiar figures rushed out of the castle gate.

Hermione's hair was more disheveled than usual, and Ron had some jam from breakfast on his nose.

"Harry!" Hermione screamed and pounced on him.

"The Daily Prophet said your godfather—oh!"

She stopped abruptly, staring wide-eyed at Sirius.

Ron's jaw nearly dropped to his chest: "That motorcycle is so cool..."

Sirius grinned and reached out to ruffle Ron's hair. "You must be Arthur's son. This red hair is exactly the same as your father's in seventh grade."

He suddenly pulled a chocolate frog out of his pocket. "Want one? I bought a whole dozen."

Neville approached timidly: "Mr. Black... my grandmother said you were her best student..."

"Augusta's grandson!" Sirius's eyes lit up.

As if by magic, he pulled a small cloth bag from the motorcycle's side box. "Here, these are some Mibumibao seeds I found earlier. They sap even more readily than the ones your grandma grew—"

"Blake!"

A furious roar came from the castle steps.

Professor McGonagall strode in, her robes billowing. "This is a school, not your flying motorcycle show!"

Sirius Black immediately stood up straight, feigning seriousness: "Professor, I assure you, this vehicle fully complies with Article 10 of the International Regulations for the Administration of Flying Transportation Vehicles—"

"Article 127, the speed limit is 70 miles per hour."

A cold voice came from the shadows.

Snape slid in front of the group like a giant bat, his dark eyes fixed on Sirius. "Looks like Azkaban failed to teach you to follow the rules."

The air froze instantly.

Harry watched nervously as his godfather's hand reached for his wand—

"Severus!"

Sirius suddenly broke into a bright smile. "I heard you're a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher now? Oh no, wait..."

He tapped his forehead as if deep in thought. "Just a potions professor? What a shame. I thought you'd at least be a vice principal."

Snape's lips pressed into a thin line: "At least I didn't spend twelve years lingering near a Dementor's kiss."

"Enough!" Professor McGonagall interrupted sharply, but Harry clearly saw the corner of her mouth twitch.

"Blake, if you're going to show off like a brat, at least park the car where Hagrid is."

Sirius gave an exaggerated bow.

He turned to Harry and winked. "Looks like I'm being rejected. Come on, kid, I'll take you to the Great Hall—and see if those old portraits still recognize me."

They walked toward the castle, with Ron and Hermione following on either side like a guard.

Neville, clutching the bag of magical seeds, would steal glances at Sirius every now and then.

"Oh, right."

Harry suddenly remembered something, "Sirius, Kane Malfoy is actually—"

"Ah, the Malfoys' little viper." Sirius's smile faded slightly. "Don't mention him to me."

When he thought of Kane, he thought of his ancestral home.

Although I didn't want to go back, it was, after all, the Blake family's old house.

Hermione immediately interjected, "Kane was a huge help! He found evidence that Peter was still alive—"

"I traded it for Black's old house," Sirius snorted.

But there was no real anger in his tone. "That kid negotiates like a leprechaun banker."

Just then, two platinum-gold heads emerged from around the corner.

Draco Malfoy visibly froze when he saw them, while Kane merely raised an eyebrow gracefully.

"Good morning, Potter." Kane's voice was as calm as ever. "Mr. Black, congratulations on regaining your freedom."

Draco hid behind his brother, his gray eyes wide open.

Sirius Black deliberately spoke loudly to Harry, "Look at you Malfoys. Just like two ferrets, aren't you?"

"Sirius!" Harry tugged at his godfather's sleeve, lowering his voice.

"Kane really helped me a lot, and he and Draco were the first friends I made in the wizarding world."

Ron felt quite uncomfortable after hearing this.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, looking Kane up and down: "Didn't you say Harry was at school...?"

He also remembered that in Azkaban, Kane mentioned that Harry was having a terrible time at school.

But based on what he knows about Harry these past two days, it seems that's not the case.

“Mr. Black,” Kane said humbly, speaking first, “there is something Kreacher asked me to tell you: the box of…special collectibles in your bedroom has been safely stored away.”

Harry noticed that his godfather's expression suddenly turned strange.

"You mean those—"

"—The 1978 issue of Playwright magazine? Yes." Kane's lips curled into a slight smile.

"House-elves think it's not suitable to put it in an area where children can see it."

Ron choked suddenly.

Hermione's face instantly turned as red as her Gryffindor scarf.

Sirius burst into laughter: "Alright, kid, you win."

He patted Kane on the shoulder, but the latter quickly dodged away.

This caused his hand to miss its target.

"At least you didn't give them to McGonagall."

Professor McGonagall's voice came from behind: "I didn't hear you, Black. What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing, Professor!" Sirius Black immediately stood up straight, his expression changing faster than flipping through a book. "We were just discussing... uh... the Quidditch tactics manual!"

Draco suddenly muttered to himself, "Potter actually has a godfather who can ride a motorcycle..."

There was a hint of suspicious envy in his tone.

"If only my godfather were also..."

Draco could already picture the scene: a beautiful strand of black hair flowing in the wind on the motorcycle.

At breakfast time, the auditorium was bustling with activity because of Sirius's arrival.

Fred and George somehow got hold of a toy motorcycle.

Make it fly around the Gryffindor table.

Even the usually serious Percy came over to ask about the details of the Ministry of Magic's retrial of the case.

"So," Sirius added a third fried egg to Harry's plate, "you're getting along well with the two Malfoys?"