Chapter 235
Harry turned into Magnolia Crescent, and halfway down the street he crossed the narrow alley beside the garages, where he had first seen his godfather — or at least, it had seemed that Sirius understood Harry's feelings.
Even though Sirius's letters had contained no real news, just like Ron and Hermione's, they at least carried words of warning and solidarity instead of those frustrating hints and evasions such as:
"I know what I'm saying is frustrating for you… but stay out of trouble, and everything will be fine… Be careful, and don't do anything reckless…"
Harry thought about this as he crossed Magnolia Crescent, turned onto Magnolia Road, and headed toward the dark playground. At least so far, he had followed Sirius's advice. He had resisted the temptation to tie his trunk to his broomstick and fly alone to Ron's house. In fact, considering how much frustration and anger he felt while stuck in Privet Drive, hiding in flowerbeds hoping to overhear something that might tell him what Lord Voldemort was doing, Harry believed he had behaved very well.
But honestly, what nerve Sirius had — telling him to be careful after spending twelve years in Azkaban for murder, escaping from prison, and then trying to commit the very murder he had been accused of.
Harry jumped over the locked playground gate and strode across the dry grass. The park was empty, just like the surrounding streets. When he reached the swings, he dropped into the only one Dudley and his friends had not yet managed to destroy, wrapped one arm around its chain, and stared nervously at the ground.
He could not hide in the Dursleys' flowerbeds again tomorrow. He would need to think of another hiding place from which he could listen to the news broadcasts.
And now he had only another restless and miserable night ahead of him. Even when he escaped the nightmares that haunted him in sleep, exhausting dreams pursued him — dreams of endless dark corridors and passageways, all ending in dead ends or locked doors. His scar had started hurting again, but he knew that Ron, Hermione, Albert, or even Sirius would not care much.
In the past, the pain in his scar had been considered a warning that Voldemort was regaining strength. But now that Voldemort had truly returned, his friends would probably remind him that the pain was expected… nothing to worry about… merely old news everyone already knew.
Harry felt his sense of injustice growing stronger inside him. He felt as though he were on the verge of screaming with rage.
He began thinking bitterly to himself:
"How could Dumbledore forget about me so easily? Why are Ron, Hermione, and Albert together without inviting me? And how much longer am I supposed to endure Sirius telling me to stay careful and behave like a good little boy? Or resist the temptation to write to that ridiculous Daily Prophet and tell them Voldemort is back?"
These angry thoughts churned violently through Harry's mind. The hot, humid velvet-like night pressed around him, the air thick with the smell of warm dry grass. The only sound was the distant hum of cars on the road beyond the park.
He did not know how long he remained on the swing before loud voices interrupted his thoughts, causing him to look up.
The streetlamps cast hazy glowing shadows that revealed a group of people approaching through the park.
One of them was singing a rude song in a booming voice while the others laughed. Harry could hear the rattling sounds of several racing bikes circling around them.
Harry knew those people.
The first was undoubtedly his cousin, Dudley Dursley, on his way home accompanied by his loyal gang.
Dudley was still enormous, but a year of strict dieting and the discovery of a new talent had changed his appearance considerably. Uncle Vernon proudly told everyone that Dudley had become the boxing champion of the Southeast Schools Association. And as Uncle Vernon called it, "the noble sport" had made Dudley even more terrifying than he had been when Harry and Dudley were in primary school. Back then, Harry had been Dudley's very first punching bag.
But Harry was no longer afraid of his cousin. Even though he did not consider Dudley's powerful and accurate punches something to celebrate, the local children feared Dudley even more than they feared Harry — who was rumored to be violent and supposedly attended St. Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys instead of a normal school.
Harry watched the shadows of the passing boys stretch across the grass and wondered who they were planning to beat up tonight.
Without realizing it, he muttered to himself:
"Look around you… come on… I'm sitting here all alone… notice me and try to hit me…"
If Dudley's friends spotted him sitting there alone, they would definitely try to harass him. And what would Dudley do then? He would not want to look weak in front of his gang, but he would also be afraid to provoke Harry. It would be amusing to watch Dudley trapped in such a dilemma — provoking him while being too terrified to actually respond.
And if any of the others tried to attack Harry, he was ready with his wand.
Let them try.
He badly wanted to release some of his anger and frustration on the boys who had once made his life miserable.
But they did not notice him.
They had almost reached the park gates when Harry suddenly felt tempted to call out to them. But looking for a fight was not wise. He was not supposed to use magic. He would risk being expelled from school again.
The voices of Dudley's gang gradually faded away as they disappeared onto Magnolia Road.
Harry thought dully to himself:
"There you go, Sirius… I wasn't reckless. I was careful. Unlike you."
On the other side, inside the Black family house, in the dining room whose walls were decorated with portraits of ancient ancestors, several people sat around the large dark mahogany table.
The hanging lights cast long shadows across the walls, creating an atmosphere that felt warm yet filled with hidden tension.
Sirius Black sat at the head of the table, looking at his son, Albert Black, who held his cane beside his chair. But he was no longer the weak boy who had returned from Hogwarts days earlier covered in wounds.
This time, he was different.
He wore elegant dark clothes and a white open-collared shirt that gave him an unusual handsomeness and presence. A few strands of hair fell over his forehead, making his features appear even more mature. His grey eyes shone with newfound confidence, as though he was no longer merely an ordinary Hogwarts student, but someone who had realized the weight of the responsibility he carried.
Also seated at the table were Arthur Weasley and his wife Molly Weasley, along with Remus Lupin.
Albert held a copy of the Daily Prophet in his hands, but instead of reading the usual wizarding news, he was absorbed in articles discussing physics, engineering, and new scientific discoveries from the Muggle world.
Remus Lupin watched him carefully.
"You need to be very careful about getting involved in anything suspicious now," Lupin said calmly, his tired eyes carrying the wisdom of long difficult years.
Albert looked at him without lifting his head from the newspaper.
"Everyone in the Ministry is doing everything they can to convince society that You-Know-Who hasn't returned, and that all these rumors are just nonsense," Lupin continued seriously.
On the other side of the table, Mrs. Weasley poured tea into the cups one after another — one for Arthur, then for Lupin and Sirius, and finally for Albert.
But when she approached Albert, she noticed that he was not reading politics or security reports. Instead, he was deeply focused on articles about modern engineering and physics.
She raised an eyebrow in surprise but said nothing.
Albert calmly folded the newspaper and placed it beside him. Then he looked directly at Lupin and said in a quiet yet powerful voice:
"I'm not afraid. Not of Voldemort, and not of people. If I cared about what they said, I would have cried back when everyone called me 'the traitor's son.'"
(The phrase "traitor's son" referred to the time when Sirius was still imprisoned under accusations of betraying his friends and becoming one of Voldemort's followers.)
Silence immediately filled the room after his words.
No one had expected such a direct answer. Even Sirius himself felt a trace of tension from the strength in his son's tone.
Remus Lupin stared at him for a long moment, but said nothing.
Even Arthur Weasley, who was usually optimistic in every situation, did not know how to respond.
As for Sirius, he felt both pride and concern. He knew his son was no longer just a boy, but he did not want him to become someone carrying burdens heavier than he could bear.
Finally, Molly Weasley decided to break the tension in the room.
"Let's eat the dessert I made especially for all of you!" she said warmly as she cut into the fresh ginger cake.
To be continued...