bacchusnovels Chapter 277 Sirius's Prison Break
Chapter 277 Sirius's Prison Break
Chapter 277 Sirius's Prison Break
Harry's summer vacation was unusually boring. From the first day of the vacation, it seemed that everything was going downhill without him even noticing.
He had been holding onto a sliver of hope, hoping that something different would happen, even if it was just a small surprise.
However, this wish was soon shattered.
That day, he was weeding in the backyard, sweat dripping down his forehead, the sun scorching his back, making him feel extremely tired and irritable.
Just as he bent down to work, he suddenly saw a familiar car approaching from a distance. Through the car window, Professor Phillips' figure came into view.
Harry's heart raced, and countless possibilities flooded his mind—the professor must have come to find him.
Perhaps there was some emergency at the school; whatever the case, it meant he could finally escape the Dursleys' oppression and return to the magical world.
Filled with anticipation, Harry hurriedly put down his tools, stood up, and watched the car approach. He could almost feel the breath of freedom washing over him, as if he were about to escape this dull and boring life.
However, things did not go as he had expected.
The professor's car slowly pulled up in front of his house, and Harry's heart leaped into his throat. But what happened next instantly dashed his hopes—Professor Phillips simply rolled down his window, smiled, nodded at Harry, and gave a perfunctory greeting, seemingly with no intention of stopping at all.
Harry opened his mouth as if to say something, but found that the professor had already started the car and quickly disappeared around the corner, leaving Harry standing alone, staring at the empty intersection.
Not only were their hopes dashed, but the following day was even worse.
His cousin Dudley noticed Harry's brief pause while weeding and immediately ran to complain, accusing him of slacking off.
As a result, that night, Harry not only didn't get a chance to explain himself, but was also ruthlessly deprived of his right to dinner.
Hunger and injustice intertwined, making him feel that this summer vacation was more like a long punishment.
From that day on, everything seemed to start going even worse.
His life seemed to be stuck in an endless quagmire, with every step difficult.
Thinking of this, Harry slammed the book shut in frustration.
It was midnight. He lay on the bed, the blanket pulled high over his head, as if he had set up a small tent for himself.
He held a flashlight in his hand, its faint light illuminating the open pages of a book—a thick, leather-bound book, Bathilda Bagshot's *History of Magic*.
Harry frowned as he scribbled rapidly on the paper with his quill pen, his eyes occasionally glancing across the pages of the book and then landing on the draft of the paper in front of him.
His second point was about the summer homework that gave him a headache. Every night, when everything was quiet, he would sneakily finish his homework under the cover of midnight, like a thief.
Not only that, he also had to do his homework while keeping a watchful eye on what was happening outside his room.
The Dursleys might get up at any time during the night, and if anyone heard the soft scratching of a quill pen across paper while using the toilet, Harry would likely be locked in that cramped storage room under the stairs for the entire summer vacation.
The working environment was so harsh, and the Hogwarts professors assigned him a huge number of holiday tasks, leaving him overwhelmed.
Each assignment felt like a heavy burden on his shoulders. The overwhelming workload left Harry breathless and often feeling overwhelmed. The entire summer vacation seemed like another endless battle.
Of course, having the first and second points, there is naturally a third point as well.
The third point is Ron's phone call.
It was the first week of vacation when Ron called.
This is not unusual, but the point is the person who answered the phone—Vernon Dursley.
Harry was in his room when he suddenly heard the phone ringing downstairs, followed by Ron's voice coming from the other end of the line, which stunned him instantly.
"Feed? Feed? Can you hear me? I—want—to—find—Harry—Potter!" Ron's voice came through the phone line, so loud it sounded like he was shouting at the whole house.
Uncle Vernon was startled by the sudden shout and immediately held the receiver far away from his ear, his face filled with anger and fear. His eyes were wide open, staring at the receiver as if it were about to explode.
"Who's over there?" he yelled into the microphone, his voice booming as if it would shatter the entire room. "Who are you?"
"Ron—Weasley!" Ron's voice continued, as if he were shouting to Uncle Vernon across a football field, "I'm—Harry—a—friend—at school—"
Uncle Vernon's face darkened further, and his small eyes turned menacingly toward Harry, who was standing to the side, as if he were the culprit.
"There's no Harry Potter here!" he roared, his arm outstretched as if ready to throw the microphone at any moment. "I don't know what school you're talking about! Don't call again! Don't come near my family!"
After saying that, he angrily slammed the receiver back onto the phone stand, as if he had gotten rid of a poisonous spider. The phone clicked, and then there was complete silence.
The ensuing argument was exceptionally intense.
"How dare you tell this number to someone like you!" Uncle Vernon roared at Harry, his face flushed with rage, spitting as he spoke.
Ron clearly realized he had gotten Harry into big trouble, because he never called again after that, nor did he call Hermione.
Harry guessed that Hermione had received a warning from Ron.
So, five long weeks passed, and Harry received no news from his wizard friends.
It seems this summer vacation is just as bad as last year's, with almost no difference.
The only minor improvement was that, after Harry swore he would never write to his friends again, Uncle Vernon finally allowed him to let Hedwig the owl out for some fresh air at night.
Uncle Vernon conceded because Hedwig, who had been kept in a cage, was too restless to settle down.
The noise was making him very upset.
Harry finished writing his summer homework about the eccentric Wendelin, and his pen stopped on the paper.
He listened quietly to his surroundings. The whole house was dark and silent, with only the distant sound of his cousin Dudley's heavy snoring coming from afar.
It must be very late, Harry thought.
His eyes started to itch from fatigue.
Perhaps the paper could be finished tomorrow night. Harry gently tightened the cap of the ink bottle, pulled an old pillowcase from under the bed, and grabbed the flashlight, *The History of Magic*, and...
His papers, quills, and ink were all placed inside.
Then, he got out of bed and quietly hid the things under the loose floorboards.
As Harry got up, he let out a long sigh of relief, stretched, and glanced at the glow-in-the-dark alarm clock on the bedside table, confirming that it was well past the time he had originally planned to rest.
Before going to sleep, Harry stood by the window, his aimless gaze sweeping across the starry sky and scanning the roof until, after a few seconds, his attention was firmly drawn to a certain sight.
Bathed in the golden moonlight, a colossal creature flew in a strange, wobbly manner, its wings flapping vigorously as it drew ever closer.
Harry stood frozen, watching it slowly descend. His hand rested on the window latch, and he hesitated for a moment, considering whether he should close the window tightly.
Just then, the strange creature swept past a lamppost on Privet Drive. Harry recognized it instantly and quickly dodged to avoid it.
Immediately, three owls flew in through the window. Two of them carried the third, who was clearly unconscious. They landed with a thud on Harry's bed. The middle gray owl immediately collapsed, motionless, a large bundle tightly bound to its leg.
Harry immediately recognized the unconscious owl—Errol, the Weasley family's messenger.
He rushed to the bedside, untied Errol's legs, removed the bundle, and carefully placed Errol in Hedwig's cage.
Errol barely opened one blurry eye, let out a weak cry of gratitude, and then began to drink the water greedily.
Harry turned his attention to the other two owls. The large, white-feathered female owl was his Hedwig, who was also carrying a package and looked quite proud.
As Harry unwrapped the package, Hedwig gave him a gentle peck with her beak before flying to the other end of the room to find Errol.
As for the third owl, Harry didn't recognize it, but it was a rather beautiful tawny owl.
However, Harry quickly guessed its origin.
In addition to the third package, it also brought a letter bearing the Hogwarts crest. After Harry removed its belongings, it solemnly shook its feathers, spread its wings, and flew away, disappearing into the night.
Harry sat on the edge of the bed, picked up Errol's package, tore open the wrapping paper, and found a gift decorated with gold paper inside, as well as the first birthday card he had ever received.
His hands trembled slightly as he opened the envelope, and two pieces of paper slipped out—a letter and a newspaper clipping.
The clipping was clearly from the wizarding newspaper, the Daily Prophet. Harry picked it up, unfolded it, and read:
The Ministry of Magic dismisses Phillips's lawsuit; Jorgins replaces Scrimgeour as Head of the Auror Office.
"Phillips?" Harry murmured the familiar name, his brow furrowing as a strange unease welled up inside him.
Could it be his beloved Professor Phillips?
Harry's eyes darted quickly across the clippings and landed on an attached photograph.
In the photo, Sean Phillips sits calmly and elegantly in the hall of the Ministry of Magic; it is a face Harry is familiar with.
It really was Professor Phillips.
But how could the professor be accused? What happened in the wizarding world during that short summer vacation?
Harry was puzzled and turned the newspaper to the second page.
The second edition of the news also featured people he knew:
A Ministry of Magic employee wins a huge prize: Arthur Weasley, head of the Ministry of Magic's Office for the Prevention of the Misuse of Muggle Objects, wins the annual Daily Prophet.
The grand prize is the Galleon Prize.
Mr. Weasley happily told the Daily Prophet, "We're going to use this money to go to Egypt for the summer holidays, where our eldest son Bill works as a spellbreaker at the Gringotts Wizarding Bank."
The Weasleys will stay in Egypt for a month before returning to Hogwarts for the start of the new school year, where their five children are currently enrolled.
Harry glanced at the event photos and saw the Weasleys, a family of nine, standing in front of a giant pyramid, waving enthusiastically at him. A smile crept onto his face.
The short, plump Mrs. Weasley, the tall, bald Mr. Weasley, six sons and a daughter, all with (though not shown in the black and white photograph) fiery red hair.
Tall, thin, and clumsy Ron stood in the middle, with his pet mouse Scabbers perched on his shoulder and his arm around his sister Ginny.
Below is a letter Ron sent him.
The letter contained Ron's birthday wishes for him and his experiences in Egypt over the past few days.
He said he saw his brother Bill, who worked as an exorcist in Gringotts, Egypt, but Bill seemed a little out of sorts.
I don't know what happened a few days ago.
In addition to Ron's letter, Harry also received a letter from Hermione.
Besides his birthday gift—a flying broom care kit—it contained mostly her account of what had happened to Professor Phillips over the past few days.
It was through this experience that Harry learned what Professor Phillips had gone through in the Ministry of Magic these past few days.
Then, Harry's gaze fell on the last package.
That was Hagrid's gift.
a book.
A book called "The Book of Monsters".
The next day, Harry woke up late, and when he went downstairs for breakfast, the Dursleys were already sitting at the table.
The reason for this was that conquering the "Monster Book" last night had taken a lot of his effort.
At the dinner table, he learned that his Aunt Maggie was coming to visit.
Harry made a deal with his Uncle Vernon in order to obtain the guardianship permission signature for Hogsmeade Village.
He had to follow certain rules while Aunt Maggie was here.
However, during dinner on the third day when Aunt Maggie visited, she insulted his long-deceased father, calling him a good-for-nothing, lazy bum, liar, and utterly useless.
Not only that, they also said they died in a car accident and that Harry was just a burden.
Enraged, Harry, unable to control himself, turned Aunt Maggie into a hot air balloon.
He also ran away from home.
After dragging his suitcase through several blocks, Harry finally collapsed against a low wall on Magnolia Crescent Street, panting heavily.
He sat there motionless, listening to his rapidly beating heart, his anger still burning in his chest.
Just as he sat down to rest and rummaged through the box for items that might help him in his current situation, he felt a strange stinging sensation on his neck, as if someone was watching him from the shadows.
However, the streets in front of them were deserted, and there wasn't a single light in the square houses.
He bent down to search the box again, but in that instant, he suddenly stood up again, gripping his wand tightly.
Rather than saying he heard any sound, he sensed that someone or something was hiding in the narrow alley between the garage and the fence behind him.
Harry squinted, staring at the dark corner. If it moved even slightly, he could tell whether it was a homeless cat or something else entirely.
"Flash," Harry murmured, and the tip of his wand instantly lit up with a dazzling light that almost blinded him.
He raised his wand high above his head, and the light illuminated the cobblestone wall of No. 2 Privet Drive.
The garage door reflected the light, and between the garage and the wall, Harry saw a large, dark creature blinking its two bright eyes, which stood out starkly in the darkness.
Yes, Sirius Black escaped from prison!