Snape: Black Dog, Time for Your Medicine!

Harry, of course, knew nothing of Sirius's or Veratia's plot against his Godfather.

He was now following behind Professor Dumbledore and Mr. Weasley, heading towards the courtroom.

The trial chamber was very old-fashioned, at least that's what Harry thought; the walls were made of dark stone, and the torchlight was dim and eerie.

He really couldn't understand why they needed torches for lighting—because the courtroom wasn't illuminated by torches at all, but by the sphere on the ceiling that was radiating a silvery-white light.

Harry followed Mr. Weasley to the row of gradually rising benches and found two empty seats to sit down.

Dumbledore walked to the highest chairs and sat down with many dark figures.

Before they entered the courtroom, the people in the high chairs had been whispering among themselves, and when the heavy doors closed, a solemn and dignified atmosphere descended.

This is the atmosphere a courtroom should have, at least that's what Harry thinks.

But soon, someone called Harry away again and made him sit in one of the highest chairs.

Because he is an important figure and a key party involved.

There were about fifty people sitting on those high chairs, though Harry didn't count them carefully; they wore crimson robes with a delicate silver "W" embroidered on their left breast, an abbreviation of Wizengamot.

They all looked down at him, some with kind expressions, others with undisguised concern.

In the very center of that row of chairs sat Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge.

Fudge, wearing his usual dark yellow-green bowler hat, looked at Harry with a very kind expression, as if he were looking at his own son.

Dumbledore sat next to Fudge, and Harry had no idea how the seating arrangement was done; in any case, he couldn't find any pattern.

Given Dumbledore's status as the president of the International Confederation of Wizards and the chief archmage of Wizengamot, he should logically be sitting in Fudge's seat.

I just don't know why the seating arrangement is like this now.

"Very well," Fudge cleared his throat, "The jury is finally all here. Let's begin—are you ready?"

He shouted towards the other end of the bench.

"Yes, sir," a young man nearby replied, holding a Quill as if he were writing something down.

"The trial on October 13th," Fudge said in a booming voice, and the young man hurriedly began to take notes, "Is a retrial of the case from twelve years ago—the murder of the Potters, and the case of Sirius Black causing an explosion that killed more than a dozen Muggle and Pettigrew."

"Interrogators: Minister for Magic, Cornelius Oswald Fudge; Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Amelia ' Susan ' Borns."

At this point, Fudge cleared his throat and said again, "Bring in the defendant, Peter Pettigrew— "

As Fudge's voice fell, the door burst open, and several Auror grabbed Pettigrew by the arms and led him into the trial chamber.

Upon seeing Pettigrew, the members of Wizengamot whispered among themselves, their eyes fixed on him. Some were shocked, astonished that it was real—while others were filled with regret, lamenting that the Pettigrew Pettigrew who had received the Order of Merlin, First Class, was actually the one who orchestrated this tragedy himself...

Pettigrew was led by the Auror to sit on the chair in the middle, and immediately, a series of camera clicks rang out around him.

Some of the wizards in the Wizengamot Council frowned, but none of them said anything.

Allowing journalists into the Wizengamot Trial Chamber was a privilege granted by Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge, and their objections were futile; it was better for them to remain silent.

This was also part of Fudge's plan to cultivate his image as someone who sought the truth and was pragmatic.

"The defendant, Peter Pettigrew," Fudge announced loudly. "Yes, yes, the Ministry of Magic was once deceived by this so-called 'hero,' resulting in the wrongful imprisonment of another hero—but now, the opportunity to set things right has arrived. We must uncover the truth and give justice to the innocent—"

The sound of reporters taking photos rang out again.

"First, verify the identity information of both parties, the plaintiff."

Fudge looked at Harry.

"Introduce yourself," the wizard beside him whispered.

Harry understood and stood up to introduce himself, "Harry Potter, born on July 31, 1980, lives at Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging London, and is currently a third-year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Gryffindor House."

After Fudge finished speaking, he said again, "The defendant."

"Peter Pettigrew," Peter said weakly, "A student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and now... now he has no address."

"Do either party have any objections to the identity or qualifications of the other party's representatives?" Fudge asked again.

"No objection," the two said.

"Do either party request the recusal of the judges, court clerks, and other relevant personnel in this case?" Fudge asked.

"We will not request recusal," the two replied.

"Now we will inform both parties of their rights and obligations in the litigation."

As Fudge spoke, he reached for a piece of text on the table and read it carefully to the two of them.

After the reading was finished, Fudge looked up and asked, "Did both sides hear clearly?"

"Yes, we heard you right," the two replied.

"Now, I will present the plaintiff's claims, facts, and reasons on behalf of the plaintiff," Fudge said, putting down the document.

"The plaintiff, Harry Potter," he continued, "Accuses the defendant Peter Pettigrew, of Secret Keeper his friends James Potter and Lily Potter, who were asked to keep the secret of the Fidelius Charm's location, by revealing it to Voldemort..."

When Voldemort's name was mentioned, Fudge shuddered almost imperceptibly, but he concealed it very well.

As Minister for Magic, everyone can refer to "The Dark Lord," but he alone cannot say it in public.

To be Minister and not even dare to say the enemy's name... isn't that an immense disgrace?

"After that."

Fudge quickly recovered, his pauses well concealed, just as he had when he was speaking—a basic quality of a seasoned politician.

He continued, "Sirius Black learned of Peter Pettigrew's betrayal and pursued Peter to a Muggle street. Peter then used Charms to blow up the street, killing twelve Muggle who were watching, and used this to escape and frame Sirius Black... Does the defendant Peter Pettigrew, have any objection to the plaintiff Harry Potter's accusations?"

Peter his mouth, his tiny, beady eyes glancing at Harry, but then a sigh escaped his lips.

"No," he said.

He knew, of course, that even if he escaped Wizengamot's trial, Harry would have a hundred ways to make him wish he were dead.

Rather than fall into Harry's hands, it's better to go to Azkaban —after all, he's Animagus, and he has plenty of ways to escape from there.

Thinking this way, Peter felt a little more at ease.

"I have a question," Lady. Bones suddenly said. "Regarding the Secret Keeper, I remember it was said that Sirius Black was the Potters 'Secret Keeper. Why was it suddenly changed to Pettigrew?"

"Defendant, can you explain the situation?" Fudge asked.

"Yes." Pettigrew shuddered. "This, this is all Sirius's fault."

Even now, he still tries to shift the blame onto others. "He suggested to James that he had angered the Death Eater and the Dark Lord and was now being hunted down, so why not give me the secret? I've always been insignificant and cowardly in their eyes, so they're not worried about the Death Eater targeting me. In their view, no one would think James would give me that secret, after all, I'm... so insignificant."

Pettigrew spoke, a glint of light flashed in his eyes.

"But what they didn't expect was that I had already sided with the Dark Lord —you know what? I was really afraid of dying, so I sided with the Dark Lord, but all I wanted was to live, what did I do wrong!"

"The plaintiff," Fudge turned to Harry, "What would you like to say to him?"

"Pettigrew." Harry looked at Peter, his gaze calm. "He trusted you so much, and what about you? You said you were afraid of death, but you were able to live Silencio in the Weasley family as a rat for twelve years, and even under Dumbledore's nose for almost seven years—from the moment you became Percy Ignatius Weasley's pet and entered Hogwarts with him. That's enough to prove you have the ability to survive, yet you still betrayed my father. Was it really fear of death that drove you?"

Harry's words were absolutely impeccable.

Everyone knows Dumbledore's abilities; the fact that he can turn into a mouse without being detected by Dumbledore proves that he has the ability to slip away unnoticed right under Voldemort's nose.

He said he was afraid of death, so why couldn't he secretly turn into a mouse and hide?

No one believed Voldemort would find him.

"I, I..."

Peter his mouth, but was speechless.

He didn't know what to say; all his explanations seemed pale and powerless at this moment.

Yes, James trusts you so much, and your ability is to transform into a mouse...

As long as it's secretly hidden, it's absolutely impossible...

So why is that?

Lady. Bones raised her thick eyebrows high; she disliked Peter Pettigrew, the cowardly Animagus who was also a mouse.

"Since the defendant has waived his right to defense," Fudge began announcing the final verdict. "According to the law, I hereby sentence Peter Pettigrew to life imprisonment in Azkaban! And revoked the Order of Merlin, First Class!"

"Furthermore," Fudge added, "I declare Sirius Black... innocent!"

As Fudge delivered his final verdict, Pettigrew seemed to lose his spine and slumped into his chair.

He had known this day would come, but when it actually arrived, he still felt a little... unable to accept it.

Soon, Pettigrew was taken away by the Auror.

"I hereby declare this trial adjourned," Fudge announced with satisfaction.

However, he felt that the only drawback was that Sirius Black was not in the courtroom at the moment, otherwise the reporters could have witnessed a touching and beautiful scene.

Harry immediately stood up and held out his hand to Fudge.

Fudge understood and gave a wink to the reporters from the Daily Prophet.

The reporters understood and immediately surrounded the area.

Upon seeing the reporters approach, Fudge immediately extended his broad hands and grasped Harry's hands.

"Thank you, Minister," Harry said, his voice choked with emotion, a tear rolling down his cheek. "Thank you for upholding justice, for exonerating my only family member... my Godfather, and for bringing to justice the true culprit who betrayed my parents... It is you who made me truly feel that there is a kind and righteous heart within the Ministry of Magic!"

The Daily Prophet's reporters, their eyes gleaming, were scribbling away at Harry's words, Mars Quill practically sparking.

"Well," Fudge patted Harry's hand and said in a relaxed manner, "But Harry, I need to tell you that I must say I cannot accept your praise—you see, this was a wrongful conviction by the Ministry of Magic twelve years ago. If we had been able to investigate the truth carefully back then, perhaps your Godfather would not have been wrongfully imprisoned, and you would not have suffered so much in the Muggle world for so many years."

At this point, Fudge shook his head and sighed, then patted Harry's hand again.

"This is the Ministry of Magic's fault, Harry," Fudge sighed. "It's the Ministry of Magic's incompetence that has led to such a bitter outcome..."

"But, Minister," Harry corrected, "I think it's not terrible to make a mistake, what's terrible is to hold onto that mistake and refuse to admit it—and today, you have undoubtedly given me, as a student, a profound lesson by example—you have taught me how to maintain an upright heart, even if it may damage my reputation, and how to uphold justice. I believe that with you as an example, and under your influence, the students of Hogwarts will also move in your direction."

These words made Fudge beam with joy.

Harry's reputation in the Magical World goes without saying. He defeated the Dark Lord, who was wreaking havoc in the British wizarding world, when he was only one year old. His fame is known to everyone from Ireland to Britain...

With him backing her up, her status is truly... secure!

Reporters around were snapping photos frantically, capturing this beautiful and harmonious moment.

"I sincerely suggest to Your Excellency Minister that you grace Hogwarts with your presence and give a speech to the students," Harry said again. "As Wu said, lost young wizards need a role model to guide them forward."

Fudge couldn't hide the smile on his face; he nodded repeatedly, agreeing with Harry's words.

But he wasn't shameless enough to refuse, and politely declined, saying, "I'd rather not give a speech. The matters concerning Pettigrew and Sirius Black are enough to keep me busy for a while... It takes a lot of time to deal with, and I really can't get away. I hope you can understand, Harry."

"That's a real shame." Harry sighed deeply, as if he were truly disappointed.

"But we'll have time in the future, Harry," Fudge said with a chuckle. "It's good that you realize all this."

The two continued shaking hands, then simultaneously turned to the photographer from The Daily Prophet.

With a click of the camera, the trial of Pettigrew came to an end.

Outside the courtroom, Dumbledore stood by the window, looking at the magically simulated scenery outside, and said to Harry meaningfully, "I really didn't expect Harry to be so at ease in these situations."

"You have to get used to it," Harry said with a shrug. "It's a necessary part of life, isn't it?"

"Yes, even if you are the most powerful wizard in the world, you still need to learn how to navigate social situations." Dumbledore stroked his beard.

Harry tapped the wall panel noncommittally, without uttering a word of objection to Dumbledore.

"Alright, I think we should head back to Hogwarts now," Dumbledore said with a chuckle. "Our next task is to find Sirius Black's hiding."

At this point, Dumbledore tilted his head back and stared at the window frame.

"He's already suffered too much, Harry. We should find him as soon as possible, lest something happen to him."

"I understand, Professor," Harry nodded.

Instead of returning directly to Hogwarts, they went to Diagon Alley first.

At Florean's ice cream shop, Dumbledore bought Harry a large nut-crush ice cream, and he also got one for himself. The two sat on a bench outside the ice cream shop and enjoyed their ice cream.

"I think an ice cream like this would be just the right treat for you," Dumbledore said with a chuckle. "You should know all too well how incredibly boring the Wizengamot trial was."

Harry looked up at Dumbledore, then down at the nearly finished ice cream in Dumbledore's hand, and compared it to his own half-eaten ice cream...

I suspect it's you who wants ice cream, Professor Dumbledore.

However, even though Harry, with his high emotional intelligence, saw through Dumbledore, he didn't expose him. Instead, he politely continued to eat his ice cream with his head down.

"Oh..."

After Dumbledore finished his ice cream, he stared intently at the enormous deluxe ice cream in the hand of the child next to him.

The ice cream was covered with a generous amount of raspberry and blackcurrant sauce, along with lots of fruit pieces; its colorful appearance was incredibly tempting.

Harry quickly finished his ice cream. He looked up and saw the longing in Dumbledore's eyes, so he got up and went to the ice cream shop, where he bought two more ice creams—the same kind as the one the little boy had bought.

"I think the Headmaster is right," Harry said, handing Dumbledore an ice cream. "Eating some ice cream can really help you forget the oppressive atmosphere in the trial room."

Dumbledore paused for a moment, then took the ice cream Harry offered him and smiled happily.

The two sat on the bench outside the ice cream shop until they finished their ice cream before returning to Hogwarts.

Upon returning to the school, Dumbledore and the professors waiting in the Headmaster's Office announced the final verdict of the Wizengamot Courtroom.

After learning that Wizengamot had finally restored Sirius's innocence, Lupin sat back down in his chair, his hands gripping the armrests so tightly that his knuckles turned white from the force.

As one of Sirius Black's best friends, Lupin was also happy that his friend had been exonerated.

As for Peter...

There was definitely heartache, but Lupin felt more pleasure than anything else.

Perhaps joining Azkaban is the best option for this kind of treacherous rat who betrays his friends.

But Snape was clearly unhappy. He stood there, coldly watching the celebrating professors, without having any intention of joining in.

He didn't care about Black's situation—in fact, one could say he'd rather Black remained unjustly accused and have his soul sucked away by the Dementor.

In this world, besides James Potter, the person he hated most was none other than Sirius Black.

Even if Remus Lupin and Pettigrew Black combined, they couldn't compare to how much he disliked Black.

Harry noticed Snape's displeasure, but he didn't say anything, after all, the grudges of the previous generation were complicated and difficult to unravel.

What else can be said? Remaining silent is the best option.

"The most urgent matter at hand," Dumbledore said to the professors. "is finding Sirius Black, who is currently wandering the outskirts of Hogwarts, which is dangerous for him—because the Forbidden Forest is home to many dangerous Magical Creatures, and Professor Scamander's Magical Creatures are not exactly docile either. It would be bad if he were to run into one."

"I think he's already run into trouble," Snape said suddenly, a smirk playing on his lips. "Think about it, Dumbledore —what did he eat to survive all that time he was on the outskirts of Hogwarts? I highly doubt that the magical creatures in the Forbidden Forest will suffer because of his cruel nature..."

As he said this, Professor Snape's lips curled into a bloodthirsty smile, as if he had already foreseen the torment that Black was about to suffer.

"Good intuition, Severus." Professor Lupin seemed to be in a good mood, even having the audacity to sarcastically remark about Snape: "Looks like your keen intuition has failed you once again—"

"Oh, so you admit that you've been helping Black all this time?" Snape sneered at Lupin. "How should I put it? You two are like Potter Snape the third wheel between you two..."

"Hey!" Harry complained to Snape, annoyed. To insult a father in front of his son was more than just rude.

If it weren't for the grudges between their fathers, Harry would have thrown a harmless little Charms at them long ago.

"I told Dumbledore long ago that there was a mole within our school," Snape said with a sneer. "It seems that now—the mole has come forward on its own, Lupin is one of them, isn't he?"

"Severus!" Dumbledore said seriously, interrupting Snape's sarcastic remarks, "Remus is our Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, not a mole."

"Oh, okay," Snape said cheerfully.

But he still applauded his own persistence, which was... brewing the Wolfsbane Potion supplied to Lupin with an indescribable flavor was one of his proudest inventions.

The other was Sectumsempra, who almost Potter and disfigured the fat man's head, but unfortunately, in order to avoid being expelled, he still recited a counter-spell on him.

After confirming that his next task was to find Sirius, Harry left the Headmaster's office.

He returned to the Great Hall and sat down next to Cassandra.

"Oh, you're back?" Cassandra pushed the fries in front of Harry. "How was the trial? Was it fun?"

"That's for a trial, Cassandra," Harry said helplessly. "You should know that I'm going to participate in the trial of the real culprit who betrayed my parents, not to go sightseeing."

"That's a real shame," Cassandra continued, not stopping herself after Harry's words. "So, that Animagus rat, was he sentenced to death?"

"It's not common to sentence people to death these days, you know. Even the notorious Lestrange, and those Death Eater, were sentenced to life imprisonment."

Harry was somewhat disappointed, but it was within his expectations.

"So^"

Cassandra gracefully cut a piece of steak into her mouth, chewed it carefully, then picked up a napkin and gently dabbed it on her lips. "What are you planning to do?" she continued.

"I am satisfied with this verdict, and I respect all decisions made by the Wizengamot Courtroom and His Minister," Harry said in a very official and formulaic manner.

"Oh, that's really bad." Cassandra chuckled coldly. "I know you have your own little tricks, don't you?"

"No, I have no other choice." Harry picked up a fry, dipped it in ketchup, and handed it to Cassandra.

"I'm not your owl, Potter," Cassandra said coldly, giving Harry a look.

Harry shrugged and ate the fries himself.

Of course, this wasn't because Harry suddenly had a breakthrough; rather, a hundred years ago, Cassandra would occasionally have Harry serve her something to eat, such as fries that would get her hands dirty.

Cassandra looked behind Harry but didn't see Veratia.

"So, what about your inseparable little girlfriend?" She tapped lightly on the table beside her with her finger.

"Veratia isn't my girlfriend," Harry argued. "Can you please stop forcing your opinions on other people's relationships?"

"Oh, hehe."

Although Cassandra's smile was somewhat cold, she seemed quite satisfied with Harry's answer.

Harry actually wanted to ask Cassandra about Veratia's whereabouts—but his intuition told him that if he asked directly, Cassandra would be very, very angry.

So, the clever Harry decided to take a roundabout approach and ask in a different way.

"Besides," he said, his eyes darting around, "It seems I was the one who left Hogwarts to participate in the trial of Pettigrew, that rat, at the Ministry of Magic. Of course... it's just me and Professor Dumbledore. If you want to know Veratia's whereabouts, shouldn't you know more than I do?"

"Her whereabouts are always very mysterious. Perhaps she's learning some interesting little lessons in the Muggle world," Cassandra waved her hand dismissively.

Since Cassandra, Veratia's roommate, didn't know where Veratia was either, Harry assumed that Veratia had gone to the Muggle world to continue her classes.

He went to bed with a heavy heart, planning to ask Professor Trelawney, who had the blood of Divination, the next day.

As it turns out, using Prophecy to find people is indeed very suitable. After all, he had searched for Cassandra in vain before, and it was only through the cockatoo... through Gellert's Prophecy that he found a clue.

With the plan settled, Harry decided to ask Professor Trelawney about Sirius the next day.

The next day, the third graders had Professor Trelawney's Divination Class again.

It should be said that ever since Harry was predicted to Grim, no one really wanted to attend Professor Trelawney's class—after all, Professor McGonagall had already chosen her, and Professor Trelawney was a Divination loved to spout nonsense about people dying.

But there's no way around it; since I've already chosen the course, I have to finish it.

Together they climbed the stairs and entered the dimly lit, stuffy tower classroom. On each small table in the classroom was a glowing Crystal Ball, filled with Crystal Ball pearly white mist.

Harry looked around but didn't see Professor Trelawney. Before he could even finish searching the whole house, Ron pulled him down to sit.

"You know what, Harry?" Ron whispered, "Mama allowed me to buy a cat—and an owl, oh my god, she's such a... such a good mom, I have to admit—"

Hermione turned her head away and didn't say anything. She held back for a long time before finally swallowing back the words, "Your mother wants two kinds of rat-eating pets to get rid of the rat smell around you."

"That's a good thing," Harry said with a grin. "At least you won't have to worry about mice anymore—"

"Oh my god, stop talking now." Ron's face turned pale. "You know what, a lot of people have been making fun of me lately—they say I treat fugitives like pets, oh my god... But at least I'm not the most pathetic one, because there's a Head Boy —I mean Percy, the student council president, right in front of me."

"Yes, there were tall people holding the house up when it collapsed," Hermione couldn't help but say.

"But the Crystal Ball..." Ron carefully searched for Professor Trelawney's figure with his eyes, lest she overhear him nearby—a vigilance he had honed from speaking ill of Snape: "I thought we wouldn't start taking Crystal Ball classes until next semester. It seems this professor is rather capricious, teaching wherever she feels like."

"Come on, it's better than looking at tea leaves, isn't it?" Harry retorted. "We can't possibly find a big Black Dog in our drink and then she'll say, 'Oh darling, you're Grim!'"

As he said this, Harry mimicked Trelawney's terrified expression, backing away as he spoke.

Harry's ability to imitate is quite impressive; at least the students around him laughed.

"Hello!" The familiar, indistinct voice suddenly appeared, and Professor Trelawney stepped out of the shadows as usual.

She walked straight to Harry and patted Harry on the shoulder.

"Child, you're imitating very well—"

The students in the classroom laughed even more heartily.

"I've made a decision. Perhaps, given our pace, we should start the Crystal Ball lesson a little earlier, so I've disrupted my teaching plan," Professor Trelawney said, sitting down with her back to the fire in the fireplace. After sitting down, she looked around as if searching for some 'sign of death'.

At least most people think so, including Hermione, who always respected professors.

"Fate has informed me that your exams in June will be related to spheres, so I am eager to give you enough practice."

Hermione snorted in disdain.

"Fate has already informed her, ha," Hermione muttered to herself. "It's like fate knows her very well—is the goddess of fate some kind of relative?"

Her voice wasn't quiet; in fact, Harry believed Professor Trelawney had heard Hermione.

However, Professor Trelawney did not punish Hermione for this. Instead, she continued in a dreamlike, rambling manner, "Looking at Crystal Ball is a very delicate art. This is your first time peering into this unfathomable sphere, and I don't expect any of you to see anything. We should start by practicing relaxing our conscious mind and external eyes. This will help us clarify our Heavenly Eye and superconsciousness—and if we're lucky, some of you might be able to see something before class ends."

What do you see?

Harry thought for a moment and began to think about Sirius in his mind.

Where exactly is Sirius...? Where exactly is Sirius...?

He thought for a long time before opening his eyes again.

The image on the Crystal Ball moved, but...

Um?

He saw a big Black Dog, which was... well, seemed to be wrapped around a venomous snake, and it looked like it was suffocating.

Professor Trelawney noticed Harry staring intently at the Crystal Ball, his brow furrowed.

"Did you see anything?" she asked, leaning closer.

"I see, there's a burn mark on the table," Ron said, pointing to the table. "Someone knocked over the candle."

"No, I'm asking about Mr. Potter, dear," Professor Trelawney said apologetically to Ron. "Well then, Mr. Potter— "

"I saw a big Black Dog," Harry said, frowning. "It was being strangled by a venomous snake... and it looked like it was about to suffocate."

"This is not a good sign," Professor Trelawney coughed twice.

"What a waste of time," Hermione muttered. "I'm increasingly regretting taking this course. If I could go back in time, I would have chosen a different one."

"My dear..." Professor Trelawney gasped, looking at Harry, "From here, it's clearer than ever before... my dear, it's that Black Dog, and that snake... that Grim..."

"Oh, for God's sake!" Hermione exclaimed, "I hope it's not that ridiculous Grim again!"

Professor Trelawney raised her huge eyes and glared at Hermione's face.

"I regret to say that, from the moment you arrived in this class, my dear, you have clearly lacked the qualities required for the noble art of Divination."

Trelawney's dark eyes Winky in the candlelight.

Indeed, I don't recall ever encountering a student with such a worldly mindset—

She had forgotten that just a few days ago she had given a student the same prediction, which had caused the student to leave the Divination Classroom in anger.

Yes, that student's name is Cassandra Malfoy.

A moment of silence fell among the teachers.

Hermione felt extremely humiliated; this was the first time in her life that someone had ever told her she was bad at studying.

"Good! Very good!" Hermione suddenly said, standing up abruptly and stuffing the book "Unfogging the Future" into her bag.

"Great!" she repeated, slinging her backpack over her shoulder, nearly knocking Ron off his chair.

"I'm giving up! I'm leaving! I'm not taking this course!"

The Crystal Ball Crystal Ball off Hermione's table and, in a fit of Hermione, kicked it hard.

The Crystal Ball flew out and slammed into the door with a thud.

The students looked at Hermione in surprise. No one expected that Hermione, the Academic Bully, would be so bold as to kick teaching materials out of the classroom in front of a teacher.

Hermione left the classroom quickly, as if something Grim was about to happen.

"I remember now!" Lavender suddenly exclaimed. "Professor, you once Prophecy that someone would leave us forever before Christmas. Does this mean... the Prophecy came true, Hermione left us!"

"Shut up, Brown!" Ron snapped impatiently, turning around. "Could you please use a more auspicious tone?"

Lavender pouted, seemingly surprised that Ron would be so merciless in his rebuke.

"Yes, my dear, just as you thought," Professor Trelawney said. "I did know all along that Miss Granger would leave us—however, one always hopes that one has misread the signs of the future, and I am very sorry that this has happened."

After saying this, Professor Trelawney looked at Ron and gave him a meaningful smile.

She looked at Harry again and said to him, "My dear, you do indeed have— Grim, a very serious Grim."

"Professor," Harry asked, frowning, "What exactly did I see in the Crystal Ball? Why was there a big Black Dog being coiled around a poisonous snake? What does this signify?"

"Perhaps—" Professor Trelawney waved her arm mysteriously, "You should know that some people are born with Heavenly Eye, and you—my dear, you seem to have that potential, because you can see through the fog to the essence of things, but that's not enough... The Black Dog and the snake you saw might just be some kind of symbol."

A certain reference?

Harry remembered that Sirius's Animagus was a big Black Dog, something Pettigrew had mentioned earlier.

Well, his father is James Potter, his Animagus is a stag, and Pettigrew is a mouse—but what about Professor Lupin's Animagus? What is it?

but...

If the Black Dog represents the Godfather, then who is the viper?

Harry immediately thought of Snape, who had a deep-seated hatred for his father's group.

Could it be... that Sirius has already been captured by Snape?

But that's impossible. If Sirius had been caught by Snape, he would have handed Sirius over to the Ministry of Magic long ago—he would have loved for Sirius to be caught by Dementor and sucked dry, so he could vent his anger without incurring any criminal liability.

"Is there any further explanation, Professor?" Harry stared intently at the Crystal Ball, seemingly having found another explanation.

"That's for you to interpret, my dear," Professor Trelawney said with deep regret.

Harry gave up on asking Trelawney any further questions, because he felt that even if he continued, Professor Trelawney wouldn't give him any answers.

So he decided to ask the question in a different way.

"Professor, I would like to ask you to make a Prophecy for me," Harry said to Professor Trelawney.

"Go ahead and tell me, my dear child." Professor Trelawney was delighted—she seemed quite pleased that Harry had asked her to make Prophecy.

Harry looked at her and said, "I want to know where Sirius Black is."

Professor Trelawney was stunned.

She then nodded and said, "He's been identified as innocent, right?"

"Yes, Professor," Harry nodded.

"You must know, my dear," Professor Trelawney said, "That even the most brilliant Oracle has difficulty finding a person through Prophecy —but I am different. Here, give me the Crystal Ball."

As she spoke, she reached out her hand to Harry.

Harry obediently picked up the Crystal Ball and placed it in Professor Trelawney's hand.

Professor Trelawney held the Crystal Ball in both hands, staring intently at it for a moment, and said to Harry, "Don't worry—my dear, you just need to wait until the day after tomorrow to see Sirius Black at Hogwarts."

"Really?" Harry said, somewhat excited, after all, Sirius Black was his father's good friend.

"Of course it's true, my dear, that's what Heavenly Eye told me," Professor Trelawney said mysteriously and cryptically.

Everyone was already used to her state, because it was rare to see Professor Trelawney not in this mysterious state.

Having gotten the information he wanted, Harry continued his class contentedly.

When class ended, Ron was jolted awake from his slumber.

"Class is over?" Ron asked, wiping the drool from the corner of his mouth.

"Just finished class," Harry replied, then said to Ron, "Let's go see Hermione; she clearly wasn't happy when she left."

"Okay," Ron nodded.

The two continued down the stairs, and after only a few steps, Harry kicked a Crystal Ball.

"Is this the one Hermione kicked down?" Harry picked it up curiously and said to Ron, "I never knew she was so strong. I think we should go back and return it to Professor Trelawney."

Ron shook his head like a windmill.

"No, no, you go by yourself, buddy." He said in a string of words, "I don't want Professor Trelawney suddenly dragging me out to give me Prophecy —what if she Prophecy something Grim?"

"What you said makes sense..." Harry nodded and said, "Then you wait here for me, I'll go and take this Crystal Ball up."

"Okay," Ron nodded.

Harry turned around, picked up the Crystal Ball, and went back to the Divination Classroom.

Professor Trelawney was no longer there; Harry called out several times, but no one answered.

He was rebuffed, put down the Crystal Ball, and just as he turned around, he found that someone had hit his shoulder.

Turning around, I saw Professor Trelawney, her eyes glazed over, as if she had entered some mysterious state.

Meanwhile, in the Headmaster's office in Slytherin.

"Professor?"

A sweet voice rang out, and after a knock on the door, a beautiful Slytherin girl carrying a small pouch walked into Snape's office.

It's Veratia.

Snape was clearly impatient. He didn't stop working at all, and didn't even lift his eyelids. He just grunted to indicate that he had heard him.

Veratia didn't seem to mind at all. She walked briskly to Snape's side.

"Professor," she asked, "Do you have any Potions that can calm Magical Creatures? I'm sorry to bother you—but it's really causing me a lot of trouble."

Upon hearing Veratia's words, Snape put down the Potions bottle he was fiddling with.

He looked up at Veratia expressionlessly, and said in a cold tone, "I think Miss Grindelwald, if she hadn't been infected with stupidity by that little Gryffindor Troll, would know that your poor old professor is the Head of Slytherin and Professor of Potions, not Professor Scamander of the Care of Magical Creatures."

"But I believe you are a master of Potions, and you must have a suitable solution," Veratia said with a smile.

She believed that the bag in her hand was the reason Snape couldn't refuse.

"As I said, I am not..." Snape said slowly.

However, before he could finish speaking, Veratia opened his pocket, and a large Black Dog with its front legs tied behind its back fell to the ground.

The big Black Dog was clearly still in a daze, and it took him a while to adjust to the sudden brightness of the room—which was only illuminated by dim candlelight.

It opened its eyes groggily and looked around warily, seemingly observing the ground around it.

When it saw Snape, it couldn't help but growl and curl up in an attack posture.

That's because we saw the enemy's fighting posture!

Snape, who had initially intended to refuse, suddenly had his dark pupils contract sharply the moment he saw the big Black Dog.

He looked the big Black Dog up and down, his smile gradually turning sinister.

"Well," Snape changed the subject, "But then again, as I just said, I am the Head of Slytherin, and as Head of Slytherin... it is indeed my duty to attend to the appropriate requests of certain outstanding students."

As he spoke, he pulled a bunch of colorful bottled Potions from a drawer in the table next to him.

"Your old professor would be happy to help you, Miss Grindelwald..."

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