Early the next morning, Sirius Black woke from a sound sleep in the camp.
It was exactly like before, when he had been hypnotized, captured, and then inexplicably sent here.
But the question was, why?
If his accomplice, Grindelwald, had rescued him, that would make sense. But he had not seen the old man since he last lost consciousness. Had Grindelwald died?
That seemed unlikely. Perhaps he had gone back to Nurmengard?
Clearly, the chances of Grindelwald having rescued him were slim. Otherwise, why would he save him and then hide instead of showing himself? Why all the mystery? This was not a novel that needed some old man showing off and trying to look cool.
Then, if it was not Grindelwald, who was it? Had he acquired some strange ability? Something like being able to revive here after dying and wake up again?
Although Sirius knew this idea was rather childish, what if it was true?
If that was not it, what else could it be? Surely that archfiend Kane Hiss had not knocked him out, decided against eating him, and kindly sent him back?
What a joke! Would some unidentified creature that ate Dementors like Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans really be that kind?
Please, spare Mr. Black the comedy.
His top priority now was to test whether he really had the miraculous ability to return from the dead...
Sirius stood up and surveyed his surroundings, quickly locking onto a target.
"Yes! That's right, you! That stupid-looking birch tree! Don't you know it's rude to stare at me with all those eyes?"
After shouting to bolster his courage, Sirius tried to snap the tree in half with his head.
This time, however, he did not fall asleep like a baby. Instead, he lay on the ground with a