Ron, you're into older women?
Tris watched Ron try to turn his face away, only for his eyes to keep straying toward Madam Rosmerta, and understood everything.
He was just a little surprised that his brother shared that particular taste.
Professor McGonagall was clearly familiar with Madam Rosmerta and exchanged a few pleasantries with her. Only then did she lead the three boys to the edge of the Wizarding Village, to a rather shabby pub that looked out of place among the other shops.
The Hog's Head.
The place was just as famous at Hogwarts, though mostly as a point of unfavorable comparison.
People usually talked about how wonderful the Three Broomsticks was, then contrasted it with how awful the Hog's Head was.
Even wild boys like the Twins had little fondness for the Hog's Head. Only Tris knew that this small, filthy, dilapidated pub was not as simple as it looked.
"Professor, we're coming here?" Ron stared at the shabby Hog's Head in disbelief.
He had so hoped Professor McGonagall would take him into the Three Broomsticks, where he could order a Butterbeer. Failing that, Pumpkin Juice would do.
His pockets might have been empty, but Tris had money!
Surely his wealthy younger brother could treat his dear twin brother to a drink.
When that beautiful landlady brought him his drink, should he politely thank her, or act mature and tap the table for her to set it down?
Ron had already started imagining her reaction, only to end up here instead.
"The person looking for Harry arranged to meet here." Professor McGonagall seemed to have no particular reaction to the Hog's Head and walked inside. The three boys had no choice but to follow.
The moment Tris entered, he realized his understanding of the Hog's Head had still been off.
The instant his shoe touched the floor, he felt something soft beneath it. His first thought was that someone was actually running a business on a packed-earth floor in this day and age.
But one glance down told him that was not the case at all!
The floor was covered in a layer of ancient grime that had been accumulating for who knew how many years.
What the fuck.
Tris was hardly a clean freak, but hygiene this bad still shocked him.
He instinctively glanced at Professor McGonagall and discovered that, although she was still wearing wizarding robes today, they were not the old-fashioned kind she usually wore, with hems that trailed along the floor.
Instead, she wore shorter robes that fell just below her knees.
Ha. All right, so Professor McGonagall might look calm, but she did care after all.
The pub had surprisingly many customers, though most were odd-looking. They were all human in shape, but few showed their faces.
It was only mid-September, and not particularly cold, yet every one of them was bundled up in robes as though terrified of exposing even an inch of skin.
That made the sole exception stand out all the more.
As Tris and the others entered the pub, a black-haired man at the bar was looking toward the door. The moment he saw Professor McGonagall, he stood up.
Tris sized the man up, and his first impression was: Handsome!
Gary Oldman, the actor in the films, had been one of Tris's favorites in his previous life. His acting was beyond reproach, and he had charisma in spades. But in terms of looks alone, he was not exceptionally handsome, merely a man with a distinctive appeal.
The man before him, however, was just too damn handsome.
His tall figure, set off by a well-tailored black tailcoat, had an extraordinary presence. Although he was a little thin, he carried an air of refined nobility that seemed to emanate from his very bones.
His thick black hair had not been fussed over, giving him a spirited, untamed air.
The most unfair thing of all was his face.
His slightly hollow cheeks only made his features more sharply defined. His eyes, honed by years and suffering, were remarkably deep, and now shone with an unusual light.
This is one ridiculously handsome older man who could charm little girls out of their sweets! Tris silently gave Sirius his verdict.
"Professor McGonagall, you're here." Though Sirius was greeting Professor McGonagall, his gaze fell uncontrollably on Harry behind her.
"Yes, Sirius. Why did you choose a place like this?" Professor McGonagall's tone was calm, but her distaste was unmistakable.
The young bartender, who had been about to come forward and greet them, rubbed his nose and chuckled without saying anything.
"I haven't been here in ages, so I thought I'd stop in..." Sirius answered casually, his eyes never leaving Harry.
"Is this..."
"Yes, this is the boy you wanted to see. James's son, Harry," Professor McGonagall said. "Harry, this is Sirius Black, your father's best friend when he was alive.
"There was a misunderstanding about him before, but it has now been cleared up."
Harry had recognized Sirius too. Monday's newspaper had carried his photograph. After a week, Sirius's cheeks were a little fuller than they had been in the picture, but he was still recognizable at a glance.
Harry could not help remembering that Tris had said this friend of his father's might come looking for him. He had been hopeful at the time, but after several days with no sign of anything, he had put it out of his mind.
He had never expected the man to actually come today.
"Harry... Harry." Sirius stood up, approached Harry, and bent down slightly, as though he wanted to study Harry's face up close.
Having an older man-even an extremely handsome older man-stare at him made Harry rather uncomfortable. He instinctively greeted him. "Hello, I'm Harry."
"Hello, Harry..." Black answered immediately, then his eyes reddened slightly. "Harry, has anyone ever told you how much you look like your dad? Your eyes are like your mum's..."
Harry nodded. Hagrid had said that the very first time they met.
"I... I was your dad's classmate, his good friend, his brother." Sirius's voice seemed to tremble a little too. "I'm sorry, Harry. I should have come to see you sooner. I didn't know you... It was my fault. You must have suffered a lot over the years, haven't you? You're so thin..."
As he spoke, his eyes grew even redder.
Harry had no idea how to handle this reaction and could not help looking to the others for help.
But Professor McGonagall's expression was calm, with only a slight flicker in her eyes, as though she was lost in thought or recalling something. Ron was staring blankly, clearly unsure what was happening.
Tris seemed to be the only one who could help.
So Harry turned his gaze toward Tris.
But Tris shrugged, indicating that he could not help either.
In truth, a great many thoughts were running through Tris's mind at that moment. For instance, was Sirius this emotional because of who Harry was, or because of Harry's face?
Unable to get any help from Tris, Harry had to deal with this decidedly strange-looking friend of his father's himself.
After thinking for a moment, he asked a question that had troubled him for a long time.
"You're my dad's friend, so can you tell me what happened back then?" Harry asked.
He had read about those events in quite a few books, but he had never fully understood his father's death. The books mostly said, "The Potters, heroes in the fight against Voldemort, were killed," without ever giving further details.
Or perhaps the people who wrote those books did not know either.
"Of course." Black agreed to Harry's request without a moment's hesitation.
"Sirius?" Professor McGonagall frowned slightly. "Perhaps you shouldn't tell a child about those things."
"Professor," Sirius had never been an obedient student, much less now that he had graduated. He respected Professor McGonagall, but he was not especially afraid of her.
"I think Harry should know about his parents' heroism back then. Of course..." At this point, he could not help giving another bitter, self-mocking smile.
"That includes the stupid things we did back then. Isn't it rather sad for a child not to know anything about his own father?"
Professor McGonagall seemed persuaded. After a moment's hesitation, she nodded and said nothing more.
Harry felt excited.
He knew that Hagrid, Professor McGonagall, and even Dumbledore must know what had happened back then. But Hagrid refused to tell him, and he did not dare ask the other two, leaving him knowing very little about his family's past.
Now that someone was finally willing to tell him, he was naturally delighted.
"Tony, one Butterbeer and three glasses of milk," Sirius said to the young bartender.
"Coming to a pub to drink milk..." the bartender muttered.
"All three of them are still children," Sirius said.
Ron and Harry looked visibly disappointed. They had finally made it to Hogsmeade, and both really wanted to taste the Butterbeer they had heard so much about!
He invited them to sit down-Professor McGonagall made a point of casting Scourgify on the little stool at the bar before taking her seat.
Sirius began recounting the events of those years.
Some of it Tris knew, and some he did not. After all, the films had limited running time, and many details could never be fully explained. But he did not pay much attention.
Knowing or not knowing what had already happened honestly made little difference. As for the future, he had already caused such a stir that it would probably change considerably too.
He was more interested in what was behind the bar.
More precisely, in the person lying behind the bar.
Inside the bar, on a battered reclining chair that looked as though it should have fallen apart long ago, a bearded old man was sleeping soundly. His clothes were scarcely cleaner than a beggar's.
Thankfully, he did not snore.
Aberforth Dumbledore.
It was difficult to imagine that this old man, who looked worse off than a vagrant, was one of the most powerful wizards in Britain, perhaps even in all of Europe's wizarding world.
Well, lesser recluses hide in the wilderness, greater recluses hide in the city, and the greatest hide right in a rubbish heap...
While he was studying Aberforth, Sirius had already reached the story of how James and Lily met. Yes, he had started with his own first meeting with James at the train station.
"Ahem." Professor McGonagall coughed softly. "Sirius, this is only a brief visit. Our time is limited, and I have to take them back shortly. Please stick to the important points."
"Oh..." Sirius sounded disappointed.
Harry looked just as disappointed.
Sirius thought for a moment, then said to Harry, "Harry, could I... write to you? Not too often. I wouldn't bother you too much."
He was extremely cautious as he said it.
"Of course you can!" Harry said excitedly. Watching everyone else receive letters had actually made him rather envious. But no one wrote to him.
He had no family. He found it very hard to regard the Dursleys as his family.
"Then we can talk about it in our letters." Sirius immediately brightened. "Well, I'll cover the important points first. Let's start with... the Fidelius Charm..."
Sirius sighed softly.