Hogwarts' Golden Glory

The figure in the corner moved slightly, revealing a pair of sharp gray eyes beneath messy black hair.

Sirius Black looked up, a mocking smile playing on his lips. "Just as I thought, a Malfoy brat."

His voice was hoarse and full of sarcasm, "All you see is scheming, not emotion."

Kane frowned, his voice somewhat forceful.

"Since my dear uncle looks down on our relationship so much, he probably doesn't care how he's spent raising his son Harry Potter all these years."

Kane then glanced at the other person tentatively.

Sirius's body stiffened slightly, but he quickly recovered.

The mocking smile still lingered on his lips, but his eyes had sharpened. "Harry?"

His voice carried a hint of confidence: "He should be very famous and very outstanding."

After all, Harry defeated Voldemort.

The entire wizarding world will regard Harry as a hero!

Kane took a step forward, his voice low.

"Harry was dumped at 4 Privet Drive, living with his Muggle relatives. Do you know how they treated him?"

He paused, his gaze fixed on Sirius's changing expression.

Sirius was clearly starting to get nervous.

He always felt that those Muggles weren't very good people.

"He slept in the storage room under the stairs, like an animal locked in a cage. He had no birthday presents, no friends, and couldn't even get a decent meal."

"Just for a bite of pudding, I was whipped with a belt and couldn't sit in a chair for three days."

Kane's voice carried a hint of cold sarcasm. "Oh, right, they also told him that his parents were alcoholics who died in a car accident."

Sirius's fingers gripped the straw tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force.

His breathing became rapid, and the light in his eyes flickered uncertainly.

Has Harry really had such a terrible experience all these years?

Why did Dumbledore make this arrangement?

At this point, Sirius began to doubt Dumbledore.

If it weren't for this great wizard, I would have been the one raising this child back then!

Kane continued, "At school, he was bullied by his cousin Dudley and his friends. They chased him around, mocked his shabby clothes, and even locked him in a locker at school for an entire day."

His voice carried a hint of pity. "You know what? He doesn't even have a single piece of clothing that fits him. He can only wear Dudley's old clothes, which are as big as sacks."

Sirius let out a low growl from his throat, like a trapped wild beast.

His eyes burned with anger and pain, but he still managed to keep himself from losing control.

But he soon realized something was wrong.

Harry's parents are both wizards, how could he just be a Muggle?

"Hmph, what a boring trick. No matter how bad things were for Harry, he won't be bullied now that he's at Hogwarts!"

"Then he went to Hogwarts," Kane said with a hint of sarcasm. "You think he had a good time there? No, everyone thought he was the 'Boy Who Lived,' a savior. But in reality, he was just an orphan who was put on a pedestal."

His gaze sharpened. "Nobody really cares about him; they only care about what he can bring to the table."

Sirius's body trembled slightly, and the light in his eyes gradually dimmed. His fingers dug deeply into his palms, and blood dripped from between his fingers.

"Furthermore, you should know that Harry's father and godfather seem to have offended a potions prodigy in the past, and that person now wields considerable power at Hogwarts."

Kane silently apologized to Snape in his heart.

But he continued speaking.

"And in Harry's class, even breathing was wrong."

Sirius's shoulders tensed abruptly, his knuckles gripping the straw beneath him with a soft cracking sound.

Kane's voice was slow and clear, like a viper's hiss: "In every class, Harry was the first to be called on. In the steam of boiling potions, that professor's eyes—like a snake staring at a frog—were fixed on him."

He raised his wand, its tip gleaming silver, and conjured a boiling cauldron in the air. "If Harry answers a single wrong step, his textbook will be burned; if the potion's color is off by even the slightest margin, he'll have to clean the scalding cauldron residue with his bare hands."

In the hallucination, Harry suddenly clutched his right hand, and horrifying blisters appeared on his fingertips.

Sirius let out a low growl and spun around, crashing into the chains.

Fortunately, at Kane's request, the guards couldn't hear anything coming from this side.

"Last week's shrinking potion class," Kane's speech suddenly quickened, each word like a nail piercing Sirius's eardrums.

"Harry was punished by being locked up for three hours in a cupboard full of armadillo eggs for missing a drop of armadillo bile. The eggs hatched on his hair, and now he has festering scars on the back of his neck—"

"Shut up!"

Sirius's roar shook the cobwebs in the corner, and he stumbled to the iron bars, his withered fingers almost poking Kane's nose. "Who is that Potions professor?! What's his name?!"

Kane took a half step back: "Severus Snape...you should be familiar with that name, right?"

Sirius's expression froze instantly.

Memories seeped into his veins like venom—the Marauders' bullying of Snape during his school days, the pranks in the Screaming Shack, Lily's angry tears…

His fingernails dug deeply into his palms, and blood dripped down the iron railings, blooming into dark red flowers on the stone floor.

"Guess what happened every time Professor Snape punished Harry?" Kane's voice suddenly became as soft as a whisper.

"In his dark eyes, did he see Harry... or the shadow of his father?"

The Dementors' chill seeped in through the crack in the door, but it couldn't freeze the surging regret in Sirius's eyes.

He slid slowly down the iron bars and sat down on the ground, his hoarse breathing mingled with broken sobs: "It's all my fault... James... Lily..."

"Why...why are you telling me all this?"

"Because you need to know, Mr. Black. Harry Potter needs you, not a prisoner hiding in his cell wallowing in self-pity."

Sirius's body trembled violently, and the light in his eyes rekindled.

His voice was low and hoarse: "What do you want?"

He never forgot that the other party came to him to make a deal, not just to help him.

"I need something from the Black family,"

Kane said slowly, "To be precise, it's number 12 Grimmauld Place."

Sirius's body trembled violently, and the light in his eyes flickered uncertainly.

"12 Grimmauld Place?"

There was a hint of wariness in his voice, "That's the Black family's ancestral home, and my mother still lives there!"