The Dog Godfather Breaks Free

As the train slowed, the sky darkened.

The fields outside the window vanished, replaced by clusters of tree shadows and rolling hills.

Hermione's page-turning slowed.

The upside-down figure of a tall man, flickering lights, the pitch-black scenery outside—it all conjured thoughts of vampires and horror stories.

And in Hermione's fuzzy head, Harry wasn't the ugly sort from traditional vampire films, but the more fashionable dark aristocrat—polite, lonely at heart, elegant, noble, devoted, and handsome, like Count Dracula.

So much so that...

"Harry, when did you come down?"

When Ron said this, Hermione only then realized Harry had already sat back down beside her.

"I took the stairs," Harry said. "We're almost at the station."

Hermione noticed Harry's gaze on her, shyly lowered her head, her maiden heart churning.

"Why aren't you getting out?"

Harry ruthlessly stabbed a knife into that pink, love-struck heart.

"If you don't get out, how are we supposed to change clothes?"

Ron's words instantly healed the pink heart.

Hermione blushed and pushed open the door. "I'm going out now."

Crabbe and Goyle, sitting on the floor outside the compartment eating snacks, were startled.

A thousand miles away, Fudge, underground in London, was also startled.

After seeing Peter Pettigrew's corpse.

"That wasn't during your term; it was old Crouch's doing, wasn't it?"

With just one sentence, Dumbledore made Fudge, who had been ready to make excuses, suddenly agitated.

If, in his mind, his strong contender for the Minister's seat, Scrimgeour, ranked third, then Crouch ranked even above Scrimgeour.

"I'll send someone to Azkaban right now."

He looked at Umbridge, who was bowing and scraping behind him. "Immediately, have that Tonks go to Azkaban and send Sirius to Hogwarts. They're relatives; Harry must be eager to see his godfather!"

"But that doesn't follow procedure—"

"My word is the rule! Get poor Sirius a set of clothes from my account. He's the head of the Black family, Harry Potter's godfather—make sure it's the best!"

"Yes, I'll go at once." Like a pink toad, Umbridge looked crestfallen, her eyes flickering with nothing but lust for power.

Fudge puffed out his chest like a child showing off, looking at Dumbledore as if expecting candy or praise from his mouth.

"What's this?"

Fudge, frowning because he hadn't gotten what he wanted, noticed the notebook tucked under Dumbledore's arm.

"A gift. A gift from an old friend."

A glint of excitement shone in Dumbledore's blue eyes.

Hagrid's beetle-black eyes gleamed with excitement.

"Harry, Harry, come over here!"

On the cold platform, the towering Hagrid held up a lantern and waved at Harry. "First-years, follow me."

"I mean this year's first-years... new students, follow me!"

"Finally..." Draco patted his chest, relieved to have escaped the watchful eyes of the Slytherins.

—Maybe, during the Sorting, I should go to Ravenclaw?

—No, my father would kill me!

—Maybe I'll be Harry Potter's lackey, like Crabbe and Goyle!

"Harry, wait for me!"

He quickly caught up with Harry's tall silhouette.

Harry finally saw Hogwarts.

On a steep cliff stood a castle shining in solitude, its reflection mirrored in the pitch-black lake.

Ancient magic guarded this fortress, and the students within it.

Sitting alone in a boat like Hagrid, he too felt this strange magic. It connected with his name, his unique life frequency, and for a moment, the magical knowledge already in his mind, inherently magical, became much more active.

The troll's magic, thick and solid like a towering mountain, softened, taking on the moisture of the Black Lake.

The purest, holiest silver blood boiled, resonating with its kin in the Forbidden Forest.

Leaving blood relatives behind, the Love Charm that had been languishing on Harry alone began to surge anew as he drew closer to the castle.

"Get your heads down!"

Looking at the Ivy Curtain covering the cliff face ahead, Hagrid warned them in advance.

But in truth, aside from Hagrid and Harry, no one needed to duck.

On the same boat, the noisy Draco and Ron lowered their heads, only to find that Ron could barely reach the bottom of the curtain. Ron started gesturing at his own height, laughing triumphantly.

Harry withdrew his gaze and met Hermione's eyes, which were fixed on him.

Harry lowered his head, and the boat carrying him entered the dark tunnel beneath the cliff, under the castle.

Rippling water shimmered like ink, a massive shadow flashed by, and then a face was reflected.

It was an extremely haggard face.

Wax-pale skin, sunken features, the only lively eyes rippling in the waters of the North Sea.

Umbridge stood to one side like a servant; behind her was a male wizard dressed garishly, clearly a makeup artist, and a wheeled rack full of splendid clothes.

"I really do need makeup and a change of clothes." Sirius, kneeling on the reef and using the sea surface and the occasional flash of lightning as a mirror, stood up. "Otherwise I'll scare James."

"The one you're going to see is Harry." Tonks looked at her maternal uncle with pity.

"Harry's middle name is also James." Sirius raised his head stubbornly.

The makeup artist was indeed a professional; with just a wave of his wand, Sirius's face was filled with color, the grime on his hair, skin, and teeth vanished, and his graying hair became neat.

Harry noticed Professor McGonagall trying to use her eyes to make his hair neat.

Among the students present, almost all of whom were sparkling clean, Harry stood out like a crane among chickens, his hair a mess.

But after she remembered Harry's surname, she immediately abandoned that thought.

They had now arrived at the castle's main entrance, after climbing a flight of stone steps.

But as Deputy Headmistress, Head of Gryffindor, and Transfiguration professor, McGonagall didn't seem ready to let them in just yet.

"You've experienced too much today."

"A powerful Cleaning Charm, cast by someone unknown, still in effect."

"Big-name stars from your parents' mouths and the newspapers appeared among you."

"A large-scale one-sided brawl, the first in a hundred years."

McGonagall glanced at Harry again.

"A corpse appeared in the train compartment, a hero we thought was actually a traitor."

"But Hogwarts is not like that. It is the safest place in the magical world."

"There will be no large-scale brawls here, no corpses, and certainly no death."

[[Grant the Professor Death] (100 EXP, Silver Magic Knowledge 3)]

[Sad Two-Face can no longer be saved. Please, Savior Lord, grant him the greatest mercy—death.]

The quest seemed to hear the keyword and popped up just then.

Harry still smiled calmly.

"You can rest easy and devote yourselves fully to your studies, winning glory for your future houses."

"Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Slytherin."

"The four founders, and the names of the houses."

"Come in," McGonagall said, glancing at the top of Harry's head one last time before reluctantly looking away. "Longbottom, straighten your tie. What's about to happen will be the only Sorting Ceremony you'll ever experience."