HP: Wormwood and Lightning Wood

With one hand gripping Harry's arm and the other holding the large black dog by the scruff of its neck, West used Apparition to teleport back to Potter Manor.

Harry staggered a few steps and fell onto the wool carpet in the main hall of Potter Manor, nearly vomiting.

He gagged twice and complained, "Doesn't the Ministry of Magic prohibit minors from using magic outside of school? And when did you learn Apparition?!"

Even the big black dog's dark face showed surprise, its eyes wide open, full of satisfaction.

"Sometimes rules need to be flexible." West released the big black dog and raised his hand to straighten the collar of his shirt.

The reason was that he was over seventeen years old, and the Ministry of Magic's trail could no longer keep track of him.

With a wave of his hand, West released the restraints on the big black dog, which weakly stood up and shook its fur.

"Very well, welcome home, Harry," said West.

He tapped his fingertips twice, and the chandelier in the dome lit up, illuminating the sleeping griffin statue in the center of the hall. The griffin stretched its body and yawned.

Harry stared at the magnificent manor before him, his mouth agape in astonishment. The last time he had seen such a splendid place was in the Great Hall of Hogwarts.

"I never knew..."

"Me too." West shrugged. If it weren't for Grindelwald, the two of them might never have found Potter's old house in their lifetime.

The big black dog curled up to one side with a complicated expression, staring blankly at a portrait on the corridor wall.

The young man in the painting is holding the golden snitch he has caught high in the air, a proud smile on his face, his red and gold Gryffindor scarf fluttering in the wind.

This place is filled with his and James's fond memories...

West led Harry into the corridor, drawing the attention of all the ancestors.

"Is this James' other child?"

"Definitely, look how much he looks like that brat James, with that messy black hair..."

"Actually, he looks a lot like you..."

Harry instinctively shrank back behind West. He had never seen anything like it before.

"These are the ancestors of the Potter family," West said, nodding to the portraits.

Harry forced an awkward smile. "Um, hello..."

Ancestor: "..."

They all turned their attention to West.

"...You've changed a lot." The old man hanging at the very front spoke first.

He looked somewhat puzzled, but didn't say anything more.

"I've grown up, great-great-great-grandfather," West said with a smile. "If there's nothing else, I'll take Harry back to his room."

The old man nodded thoughtfully.

The big black dog kept its body as low as possible, afraid that the portrait would recognize it.

Having barely escaped the corridor, it breathed a sigh of relief and began planning its escape.

West suddenly stopped in his tracks. The big black dog couldn't brake in time and almost crashed into West, but was stopped by an invisible barrier.

"...Mr. Black, do you really think you're a dog? Why don't you change back?" West leaned down, his red hair obscuring his unfathomable expression.

Harry jumped up, pulled out his wand, and shouted warily, "Black! The fugitive? Where is he?!"

Realizing it had been exposed, the big black dog whimpered and slowly transformed into a human.

He was dressed in rags, his dry, dirty hair hung down to his elbows, his eyes were hidden in deep, dark sockets, and his sallow skin clung tightly to his bones.

Sirius grinned, forcing a stiff smile at the Potter brothers.

"How did you recognize me, West?" he muttered softly. "I didn't mean for you to recognize me..."

Harry's surprised gaze darted between the two men. Still holding his wand, he asked, "West, do you know him?"

Sirius looked somewhat flustered, and he stammered, "I am Sirius Black, you know? I am your godfather..."

"Huh?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"Anchi," West said expressionlessly.

"Little master, Anqi is here!" Anqi appeared eagerly to the side.

"Take him downstairs and clean him up," West said, nodding slightly to Sirius, "and get him some food while you're at it."

Sirius wanted to say something more, but seeing the obvious disgust on West's face, he swallowed the words that were about to come out.

Harry stared blankly. "What the hell, Godfather?"

West hooked his arm around Harry's shoulder. "You wanted to know what happened to me this past year, didn't you? Come here..."

He led Harry back to the prepared room.

The room is decorated in Gryffindor's signature colors. The bookshelves are filled with books and comics that Harry is interested in, as well as the latest game consoles. There's even a brand-new Firebolt on the display shelf next to it.

Harry's attention was quickly drawn to the fire bolt.

"Vester!" He carefully picked up the fire bolt. "Is this for me?"

"Birthday present, do you like it?" West asked with a smile.

The biggest advantage of inheriting the Somerset family fortune is having endless money.

The Somerset family's businesses spanned the Muggle and wizarding worlds, and even during the decades of decline of the main Somerset family, a steady stream of wealth continued to flow into the Somerset treasury.

"I love it!" Harry touched it several times with reluctance before putting the fire bolt down.

He sat on the bed. "Now, tell me about yourself, West."

"What the hell!" Harry yelled, "You've been in a coma for a year?"

He stood up, nervously scrutinizing West. "You mean, you haven't eaten for a year? Then how come you've grown taller?"

He raised his hand to indicate his name, "He's half a head taller than me."

West: "...Is that the point? Shouldn't you be concerned about my health?"

Harry pursed his lips. "You look perfectly healthy."

"Actually, there's one more thing, which is..." West calculated the time, stood up, and his clothes transformed into a very wide robe.

With a series of soft cracking sounds from his bones, his body began to grow taller and taller, slowly transforming into the appearance of a seventeen-year-old boy.

Harry looked up at him. "...How tall are you?"

"Uh, 184?" West didn't expect Harry's focus to be so unusual, but he still answered honestly.

Harry: "..."

"Let me sort this out. In your previous life, you were the heir to the Somerset family," Harry said, his thoughts muddled, as he slumped back into his seat. "Then were you still my brother?"

"..." West remained silent, simply watching him.

"...Haha." Harry realized he had asked a stupid question and laughed awkwardly.

"Okay, so what's the deal with Black?" Harry asked.

"Do you know how Voldemort found our family?" West said, and seeing Harry shake his head, he continued, "Because one of our parents' friends was a traitor who sided with Voldemort and betrayed our parents."

"Everyone thought the traitor was Black—Harry, calm down."

Harry, his face grim, was about to rush out with his wand in hand when West called out to him helplessly.

"But—I suspect this is just a misunderstanding; the real traitor isn't Blake."

Although West disliked Black because of Severus, he knew very well that a big, strong, and clumsy guy like Sirius was not the kind of person who would betray his friends.

Moreover, his relationship with James back then was obvious to everyone, and there are too many suspicious points surrounding his entry into Azkaban.

"Who could be the traitor?" Harry asked angrily.

"I guess it's Peter Pettigrew," West said, squinting and smiling.