On the night Peter Pettigrew was captured, the towers of Hogwarts were plunged into darkness, Dumbledore sleep a wink.
Instead of returning to his office to rest, he stayed in the Hospital Wing, personally sealing Peter Pettigrew's confession, as well as samples of Transfiguration marks, hair, and magical residue.
Every piece of evidence is reinforced with the most rigorous magical seal, bearing the double seals of the Hogwarts Headmaster and the First Wizard, ensuring that no one can tamper with, destroy, or refute it.
He even personally recalled the scene from thirteen years ago, using the Pensieve to extract the most irrefutable images.
Peter Pettigrew personally blew up the street, framed Sirius, and faked his own death—the whole process.
As the clock struck midnight, Dumbledore raised the Elder Wand and activated the highest level of magical communication.
He has direct contact with the Minister for Magic, the Director General of the Auror Command, and the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
Without any buffer or delay, all the irrefutable evidence was presented to them word for word in an undeniable manner.
"Thirteen years ago, you arrested the wrong person."
His authoritative voice came through the coded message: "The real culprit has been apprehended; Sirius Black is innocent."
"I demand that you immediately withdraw all arrest warrants, delete all criminal records, and restore his reputation and status. Now, immediately, right now."
The officials of the Ministry of Magic trembled in the face of irrefutable evidence; none dared to refute it, and none dared to shirk responsibility.
The panic of hastily closing the case to quell public opinion and the cowardice of covering up loopholes to maintain authority were shattered completely in the face of Dumbledore's pressure and the truth.
They initiated the highest-level exoneration process overnight, canceling the Azkaban warrant, correcting the magical legal records, and issuing a new certificate of innocence.
Before dawn, all the procedures were completed.
Thirteen years of injustice were finally cleared completely on this night.
At this moment, Sirius was still trapped in the deepest cell in Azkaban.
It was cold and damp, Dementor floated around outside the window, sucking away all joy and warmth.
For thirteen years, he had hardly slept a good night's sleep, with only one sentence echoing in his mind: Peter is alive, Harry is in danger.
He was now so thin he was just skin and bones, his black robe tattered, but his eyes remained sharp.
He didn't care about the torment he suffered, or the scorn of the whole world; all he cared about was Harry's safety.
In the dead of night, the cell door was suddenly flung open.
Two high-ranking Auror, holding glowing exoneration documents, strode to his cage and spoke with unusual solemnity:
" Sirius Black, by a joint order of the High Wizengamot and the Hogwarts Headmaster —you are acquitted."
"The culprit Peter Pettigrew, has been apprehended, and your innocence has been cleared."
Sirius slowly raised his head.
Those eyes, silent for thirteen years, shone for the first time at this moment.
Innocent... released?
He stood frozen in place, unable to react for several seconds.
Thirteen years of darkness, thirteen years of injustice, thirteen years of despair, thirteen years of souls being devoured in Azkaban...
At that moment, it exploded with a deafening roar.
Auror unlocked the cage and shackles, handing him the thin, yet incredibly weighty, exoneration document.
It says on it:
Sirius bears no responsibility for the deaths of the Potters; he was framed by Peter Pettigrew and is immediately freed and his reputation restored.
His fingers trembled slightly.
There were no cheers, no shouts, only scalding tears that fell without warning.
He had waited for this day for a full thirteen years.
Without waiting for the Auror to lead the way, Sirius almost stumbled out of Azkaban.
A chilly sea breeze swept over him as he looked up at the night sky.
So this is what the free wind feels like.
He grabbed a spare broom from the Auror and shot into the sky almost like a madman.
The night receded behind him, the gale tore through the clouds, and he pushed his speed to the limit.
Towards Hogwarts, towards Harry, towards the light that is thirteen years late.
He didn't want to wait, he couldn't wait, he couldn't wait even a moment longer.
As the first rays of dawn appeared on the horizon, the figure finally broke through the darkness and landed in front of Hogwarts Castle.
Thirteen years!
Thirteen years!
No one knows how he spent those thirteen years!
He, Sirius Black, is finally able to face his life with dignity!
He's finally home!
At this moment, Sirius's hair was long and messy, covered in grime, his black robe was tattered, his cheeks were sunken, and his eye sockets were deep.
He looked like a vagrant, like someone who had crawled back from hell.
But his eyes shone with a terrifying light, a light that had burned within them for thirteen years without ever going out.
He didn't bother to fix his hair, change his clothes, or wash off the filth, nor did he care how disheveled he looked.
He didn't even pause for a second.
All of this was for one purpose: to go straight for Harry.
For him, image, dignity, and even himself are unimportant.
Only Harry Potter is the most important.
He dashed through the restricted area of the campus, through the corridors, past all the astonished gazes fixed upon him, and made his way to the Gryffindor Tower.
Guards, portraits, stairs... nothing could stop a man who was willing to risk his life just to see his godson.
The moment he pushed aside the portrait of the Fat Lady and rushed into the common room.
Everyone was stunned.
Ron, Harry, and Olivia did not move.
Lavender and Parvati screamed and backed away.
Neville was so frightened he almost fell over.
Hermione immediately grabbed her wand and held it in front of her.
Draco didn't draw his wand; he simply gently shielded Hermione behind him.
He stared at the man before him and almost instantly recognized him. " Sirius."
Sirius didn't even spare Draco a glance; he said to Harry, "... Harry."
"I am Sirius."
"I am your godfather."
I've come to pick you up.
Harry, standing in front of the crowd, looked bewildered, with a hint of instinctive wariness and helplessness.
He didn't recognize the man in front of him.
No memory, no impression, no sense of familiarity from childhood.
Harry's palms were slightly sweaty, and he looked at Draco and Hermione beside him with a confused and uneasy expression.
"... godfather?"
He repeated it softly, his voice full of uncertainty, "I... I don't have a godfather."
The air became eerily quiet.
At that moment, all the light on Sirius's face gradually dimmed.
He looked into Harry's unfamiliar and wary eyes, and his heart ached.
He waited for thirteen years, longed for thirteen years, endured the Dementor, and survived endless darkness...
But his child doesn't recognize him!
Draco scanned the tense crowd, finally looking at the completely bewildered Harry, and told him, "He is Sirius."
"That means he's your father James Potter's best brother in his life, and also your legal godfather."
Harry was stunned. "The Godfather?"
He never knew he had a godfather.
Draco himself remained completely unfazed, yet he laid bare the cruelest truth before everyone.