bacchusnovels Chapter 278 The Deal with Sirius
Chapter 278 The Deal with Sirius
Chapter 278 The Deal with Sirius
"Welcome to my home," Sean said in a gentle and calm voice.
He slightly turned his body to make room, and gently pointed his finger inwards, indicating that the person in front of him could come in.
Standing in front of Sean was a man dressed in tattered clothes.
His messy hair was casually draped over his shoulders, almost obscuring his face, but through the gaps in the tangled strands, Sean could see his gray eyes.
Sean was familiar with those eyes.
He had seen them before, but now they seemed different from what he remembered. The original gloom in his eyes seemed to have been washed away by something, and now there was a hint of brightness.
Sirius hesitated for a moment, his gaze shifting back and forth between Sean and the room.
He appeared both wary and uneasy, as if weighing whether he should step into this space that was both strange and familiar.
A subtle tension permeated the air.
Finally, he lowered his head slightly, stepped over the threshold, and entered Sean's house.
The moment he stepped into the room, the warmth inside washed over him, dispelling the chill that Sirius was carrying.
He stood there, looking somewhat lost, his gaze wandering as he surveyed his surroundings.
The environment felt both unfamiliar and subtly reassuring to him.
For some reason, a long-lost sense of peace welled up in his heart, but the deep-seated vigilance had not completely subsided.
"Please make yourself at home," Sean broke the brief silence, his voice still gentle, calm yet carrying a hint of polite distance. He gestured with his chin towards the chair beside him. "Would you like some tea?"
Sirius hesitated for a moment, a hint of error flashing in his eyes, but he quickly regained his composure.
He nodded slowly and walked towards the chair. His movements seemed a little awkward, but they conveyed a sense of helpless obedience.
Sean walked towards Cha'er, his movements calm and unhurried.
He picked up the teapot, poured two cups of hot tea, and wisps of steam rose and filled the air in the room. The faint aroma of tea carried a soothing power, flowing through the tranquil atmosphere.
He placed one of the cups in front of Sirius and said softly, "Would you like some black tea?"
Sirius lifted his eyelids, looked at the teacup, then at Sean, his lips twitching slightly as if he wanted to respond, but he remained silent.
He simply reached out and gently grasped the teacup, his fingers trembling slightly from the cold. The warmth of the tea seeped through the cup into his palm.
"Thank you," Sirius said softly, his voice low and hoarse, as if he hadn't spoken in a long time. Then he continued, "Who are you?"
"Sean Phillips".
"I know, I've seen you in the Daily Prophet these past few days." Sirius paused, then pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. "I mean, who exactly are you?"
As he spoke, he placed the note on the table and gently pushed it toward Sean.
Sean reached out and picked up the familiar note, his eyes quickly scanning the handwriting: "19 Privet Road, Little Huigkin, Surrey, England."
Without a doubt, this was a note he left in Azkaban.
After a moment, Sean finally put down the note and slowly said, "I am the one who can help you catch Peter Pettigrew, and also the one who can help you restore your reputation."
.
at the same time.
Harry had gotten off the Knight Bus and ran into Fudge outside the Leaky Cauldron. The two were chatting inside the pub.
"Sit down, Harry," Fudge said, gesturing to a chair by the fireplace, his voice carrying an undeniable air of authority.
Harry did as instructed. Although the heat from the fireplace hit him, he still felt a chill, and goosebumps appeared on his arms.
Fudge took off his striped cloak and tossed it aside, then pulled up his dark green suit trousers and sat steadily opposite Harry.
"Harry, I am Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic."
Harry knew who he was.
He had met the famous Minister of Magic in Hagrid's cabin last semester.
Just then, the bar owner, Tom, quietly walked in, wearing a long shirt-style pajama with an apron tied around his neck, carrying a tray in his hand.
On the tray sat a steaming teapot and several golden, crispy toasted bread slices.
He gently placed the tray between Fudge and Harry, then silently left the room, closing the door behind him.
"Sigh, Harry," Fudge said with a sigh as he poured tea, "to be honest, you've really kept us very busy. Running away from your aunt and uncle's house! I thought..." He paused, handing the teacup to Harry,
She smiled slightly. "However, the important thing is that you are safe now."
Fudge picked up a piece of toast, casually spread a layer of butter on it, and pushed the plate toward Harry. "Eat up, Harry, you look like you're about to collapse."
Harry stared at the flatbread, but his mind wasn't on the food at all. He hadn't yet processed what Fudge had just said.
Fudge continued, "As for your exaggeration of Miss Maggie Dursley, we've taken care of it, and I think that should put your mind at ease."
His tone was as relaxed as if he had just resolved a trivial matter. "Two hours ago, two members of the Accidental Events Reversal Department went to Privet Drive. Miss Dursley has returned to normal, and her memories have been altered. She has no recollection of what happened. The matter is resolved without causing any major trouble."
Fudge smiled from the rim of his teacup, his eyes filled with affection, like a kind elder looking at his most prized nephew.
Harry was stunned. He could hardly believe his ears. He wanted to say something, but couldn't find the right words, so he just kept his mouth shut.
"Ah, you're worried about your aunt and uncle's reaction, aren't you?" Fudge seemed to read Harry's mind and continued, "Well, yes, they are quite angry, Harry. But I can tell you that they've agreed to let you go back to stay next summer, as long as you spend Christmas and Easter at Hogwarts."
Harry then found his voice.
"I've always spent Christmas and Easter at Hogwarts," he said firmly, "and I never want to go back to Privet Drive again."
"Alright, alright, I believe you won't think that way anymore once you calm down," Fudge said in a seemingly concerned tone. "They are, after all, your family. I'm sure that deep down, there are still some feelings between you, and you like each other."
Harry had no intention of correcting Fudge's misunderstanding. He was only concerned with one thing now—what they were going to do with him.
“Now that’s left,” Fudge continued, picking up the second flatbread and casually spreading butter on it, “is where you’ll be staying for the next three weeks. I suggest you rent a place at the Leaky Cauldron—” “Wait,” Harry interrupted abruptly, his voice urgent, “how will I be punished?”
Fudge blinked, as if he hadn't heard clearly.
"be punished?"
"I've broken the law!" Harry shouted. "The Reasonable Restraint Act! I cast a spell under the prohibition against magic!"
"Oh, my dear child, we won't punish you for such a small thing!" Fudge waved the tortilla in his hand.
He sounded somewhat impatient, and his voice rose a few decibels, "This was just an accident! You won't be sent to Azkaban just for inflating your aunt!"
This is quite different from Harry's past dealings with the Ministry of Magic.
"Last year, I received a formal warning just because a house-elf broke a cake at my aunt and uncle's house!" Harry said, frowning. "The Ministry of Magic said that if anyone there uses magic again, I'll be expelled from Hogwarts!"
Harry's question froze Fudge's smile for a moment, and a hint of embarrassment quickly crept onto his face.
He opened his mouth as if to explain, but then closed it again.
In fact, Fudge is under even more pressure than he appears to be.
He didn't want to explain anything to Harry, the little wizard, in this enclosed little room.
The Ministry of Magic has been in a precarious situation recently. The Phillips affair has left him in a state of turmoil. Although he has gained some power in the Division of Magical Law Enforcement, the cost has been a severe blow to the credibility of the entire Ministry of Magic.
Fudge knew deep down that all of this could have faded away over time, after all, time always fades people's memories.
His original plan was simple: given time, public attention would shift, and Phillips's affair would be forgotten. However, plans never keep up with changes—just recently, all the calm was shattered by a sudden piece of news: Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban!
This was a bombshell, shaking the entire magical world.
Fudge was in a state of turmoil. The Ministry of Magic's security measures were being questioned, and external pressure was mounting. And now, Harry Potter was here asking a warning question.
Fudge tried to calm himself, forcing a slightly stiff smile. "Situations are changing, Harry, we have to consider—in the current situation, needless to say, you don't want to be expelled, do you?"
"Of course not," Harry said.
"Yeah, then why are you still dwelling on this?" Fudge said with a light laugh. "Alright, have a cookie. Harry, I'll go see if Tom has a room for you."
Harry frowned as he watched Fudge get up and leave the room, his mind filled with doubt and confusion.
Nevertheless, Harry's stomach rumbled in the quiet moment.
He hesitated for a moment, then reached out and picked up a cookie. He took a small bite, and the aroma of butter and the crisp texture of the cookie immediately filled his mouth.
This long-lost warmth temporarily made him forget his doubts.
A few minutes later, Fudge returned with a satisfied smile. "The room is ready," he announced. "Tom has arranged a comfortable room for you so you can spend the next few days in peace."
Harry followed Fudge out of the private room, through the bar, the stairs creaking softly, each step feeling so real.
When he finally stood before the heavy wooden door, Fudge smiled and pushed it open, revealing the room to Harry.
This is a small but cozy room with several old paintings hanging on the walls, curtains half-drawn, and warm light softly spilling onto the wooden floor.
A soft quilt was laid on the bed, and there was a small lamp on the bedside table.
Harry's gaze lingered around the room for a moment, and he suddenly felt a sense of disorientation.
This room was, in fact, his own, at least for the next few weeks.
So, he dragged his weary steps to the bedside, without even taking off his glasses, and collapsed onto the soft pillow, falling asleep immediately.
As he slept, he had a dream in which he saw a big black dog.
Meanwhile, the big black dog was lying on the sofa in Sean's living room, staring blankly at the ceiling, seemingly lost in thought.