"All right... thank you, mate..."
Vernon hung up, wiped his tears, and struggled to steady himself. Then he immediately picked up his phone again and searched for Black's number.
He pressed the call button without hesitation.
Sirius pushed his sunglasses up into his hair. His black hair flowed, sleek and smooth, drawing envious looks from many balding, middle-aged Britons.
An exquisite suit of indiscernible make, gleaming solid-gold cufflinks bearing the Black family crest-after much deliberation, Sirius had decided to shoulder the Black family's reputation once more.
As Zhang and Dumbledore had said, it wasn't the family that defined a person, but the person who defined the family.
Sirius strolled through the streets of London with narrowed eyes, enjoying the winter sunshine. He liked Muggles and their vibrant energy. Everything about them progressed at breakneck speed.
Only ten years had passed, yet there were already so many things he no longer understood.
And the Wizarding World? It was a stagnant pool. Even compared with a hundred years ago, little had changed.
Bzz-bzz-
Black felt something buzzing in his pocket and pulled out the little gadget with considerable curiosity.
Muggles called this thing a "mobile phone." It was another of their ingenious inventions.
He had studied it for ages without understanding how it worked. It really was remarkable. Magic could achieve even more impressive results, of course, such as the Two-Way Mirror.
But it certainly couldn't mass-produce them like this.
Right, who's calling me? Since getting this thing, he had hardly received any calls, apart from the occasional salesperson respectfully recommending their latest products.
Luxury goods, expensive cars, that sort of thing...
Black picked up the phone with interest, and his thick eyebrows immediately rose.
Vernon Dursley? What's he calling me for?
Puzzled, Black answered. After hearing only a sentence or two,