That was right. The figure floating in the air was Harry Potter, controlled by Hawking, who had just arrived from Hermione's home.
With his arms folded across his chest, he slowly descended from the sky.
"Y-you're Harry?"
Sirius Black looked at Harry, who had landed before him, and asked in a trembling voice.
The person before him looked exactly like his godson Harry. Well, not exactly.
This Harry was not wearing glasses, and his eyes were very different. They were purple, with layers of mysterious patterns within them.
That was why he was not entirely sure.
Besides, five years ago at the Ministry of Magic, he had personally watched Harry die from Dark Magic. He had even carried the body back and buried it himself.
If Harry had not died that year, he should have been nineteen by now. Yet the Harry before him still looked fourteen.
Could there really be people in this world who looked so alike?
Or had someone disguised themselves as Harry using a special Transfiguration Charm? And what was their purpose?
Sirius's thoughts raced, and for a moment, he did not know whether he should step forward and embrace him.
"He's Harry! He's Harry! Look at his forehead!"
At that moment, Ron, his old brother who had once shared a dormitory with him, squeezed his way out again. Pointing at Harry's forehead, he shouted excitedly.
"It's that mark!"
Everyone turned to look at Harry's forehead. Beneath his hair, they could vaguely see half of a lightning-shaped scar.
The lightning mark on his forehead was proof that Harry had defeated the Dark Lord as a child. No one except Harry himself could possibly have it.
"It really is Harry! Harry, you're not dead!"
Excitement appeared on everyone's faces. Hermione, tears streaming down her cheeks, rushed straight