A godson = a godchild ≈ a son.
Harry Black.
Success!
Klein rubbed his smooth chin, gradually blending Harry's image with Sirius's.
"What are you thinking about?"
Seeing Klein lost in thought beside him, Dumbledore couldn't help waving a hand in front of his face.
"Nothing. I was just happy for Harry."
Sirius had gone to wash up after dinner. With no outsiders around, Klein didn't need to keep up his act anymore.
He raised the corners of his mouth in a sincere smile.
"It's a good thing."
"Yes, it is."
Dumbledore nodded, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
If that poor boy knew that someone had always cared about him in silence, he would surely be very happy.
It was just that now wasn't the best time.
The Ministry of Magic. Barty Crouch.
The old man sighed inwardly and silently committed a certain name to memory.
The one who tied the knot must untie it. This matter wasn't over yet!
"Whew, that feels great."
The two of them had been chatting idly when Sirius, now clean, returned to the living room.
His hair and beard were still damp, but he looked far less disheveled than before.
He was a proper handsome middle-aged man.
Just a little thin, with his old clothes hanging loosely on him.
"Welcome back, Sirius."
Dumbledore rose from the sofa and gave Sirius a very earnest hug.
Along with his happiness, he felt deeply guilty.
Before everything went wrong, Sirius had been a key member of the Order of the Phoenix. He had been far too rash, suspecting Sirius's loyalty so easily.
"Mm."
Sirius was glad the old headmaster believed him.
But he didn't let his feelings show.
More than ten years in prison had changed him completely.
He stood there and gave Dumbledore a simple hug, looking