"Actually..." Black's voice fractured as he suddenly dropped his head. "There's one thing that wasn't wrong—I'm also one of the murderers who killed James and Lily. I was the one who decided to have James change the Secret-Keeper from me to Peter. If..."
"A tragedy is always caused by many accidents," Dumbledore gently interrupted him. "This isn't your fault. Accidents are accidents—no one could have predicted them. I hope you can forgive yourself, Sirius."
Forgive yourself... that was far more difficult than forgiving others.
Adrian couldn't help but glance at Dumbledore's eyes. As they say, eyes are windows to the soul, or perhaps it was bias. Though Dumbledore spoke very calmly, Adrian could sense a concealed sadness about him.
'You're the least qualified person to say such things, Headmaster,' Adrian thought with bitter irony.
At this moment, Adrian noticed another detail.
Black wasn't as insane as described in the original plot. On the contrary, he seemed very calm and rational.
By all logic, twelve years of exposure to Dementors should have left him a gibbering shell of his former self. The soul-sucking creatures were designed to drain away hope, happiness, and eventually sanity itself. The fact that Black could sit here having a clear conversation, making plans, and engaging in complex emotional processing was miraculous.
"How did you manage to resist the Dementors' influence for so long?" Adrian asked.
Black's brow furrowed as he considered the question.
"I don't know," He admitted, shaking his head slowly. "I still remember when I first saw Peter's photograph in the Daily Prophet—I could barely form a coherent thought. My mind was filled with only one purpose—to kill him."
He paused, his eyes growing distant as he probed his own memories like a man examining a half-healed wound. "But you're right to question it. I can confirm that when I first escaped from Azkaban, my mind was... unclear. Fractured. When did I start to think clearly again?"
The realization seemed to hit him like lightning, his eyes widening as a specific memory surfaced from the chaos of his recent experiences. For just an instant, his face lit up with the wonder of understanding, but then he caught himself.
When had he started to calm down?
He had suddenly remembered the strange tree he had encountered in the Forbidden Forest. However, he didn't mention this.
Adrian noticed the shift in Black's expression but didn't press. Whatever Black had remembered, he clearly wasn't ready to share it.
Next, Black described what he had done after his escape: swimming across the North Sea on a stormy night, taking clothes from a drunk Muggle, obtaining Polyjuice Potion from an illegal trading place, retrieving the Marauder's Map from the Weasley twins, and finally revealing his flaw and being caught by Adrian.
Adrian nodded thoughtfully. This version of Sirius Black was indeed a far cry from the reckless, emotionally-driven fugitive of the original timeline.
If he hadn't encountered Adrian, he might actually have succeeded in killing Peter at Hogwarts.
When Black's recitation was complete, Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, his long fingers steepled before him. "So, what do you plan to do now?"
"What to do? Kill him, of course—" Black's response was immediate before he caught himself. His eyes widened as he recognized the slip, the way his thirst for vengeance had momentarily overwhelmed his rational mind.
He took a deep, breath, forcing the bloodlust back down into the dark corners where it belonged. When he spoke again, his voice was steady, and controlled. "At this point, we must first find Peter. He's hiding beside the youngest Weasley boy as a pet rat."
Hearing Black's words, Dumbledore and Adrian couldn't help but exchange glances.
What Black didn't know was that they had already discovered Scabbers' true identity. Peter was now comfortably hiding in a concealed room at Hogwarts.
"Don't worry about Peter, Sirius," Dumbledore said with calm assurance. "I'll have him under control—it's not a difficult matter. Now I need to write a letter to Minister Fudge. After investigation, the truth will soon come to light."
"The Ministry..." Black murmured with bitterness.
He had not the slightest good feeling toward the Ministry of Magic. When he was sent to Azkaban, they had skipped the trial entirely, as if everyone believed he was the murderer.
Such hasty conduct made him somewhat unable to trust them.
But currently, it seemed they could only hope the Ministry would react swiftly to this matter.
The following days were surprisingly peaceful.
Regarding Black's situation, neither Dumbledore nor Adrian revealed anything to anyone.
Before the dust settled, it was better to keep this matter secret, lest it cause unnecessary panic.
As for the Ministry—recently, owls had been visiting the headmaster's office much more frequently, clearly indicating undercurrents.
However, what surprised him was that the Ministry didn't immediately send people over, for unknown reasons.
Instead, Tonks told Adrian they had received new orders to remain stationed at Hogwarts indefinitely, and the Dementors' recall order had been annulled.
Additionally, Black's custody was temporarily assigned to Adrian.
The result of this was the appearance of an unusual new resident at Hogwarts: a large dog that seemed to follow Adrian wherever he went.
To most observers, it appeared to be nothing more than a stray that the soft-hearted professor had taken pity on.
For safety's sake, Adrian had also changed Black's appearance from black to pink—of course, this completely respected Black's opinion. (Black: I didn't agree to this).
(Adrian: Consider it part of your witness protection program)
Finally, it was time for school to begin. Students returned, and Hogwarts became lively again.
The afternoon of the second day after school started, Adrian's office was warm and cozy, with a large pile of colorful fire salamanders burning in an oversized fireplace.
These were the latest varieties sent from the magical creature shop, each salamander possessing its own unique color.
"Still no word from Mrs. Ruskin?" Adrian had inquired as he signed for the delivery.
Adrian had considered for a long time and finally decided to use fire salamanders as the recent course content.
Previous lessons had shown that these warm little creatures were extremely popular with students.
Incidentally, according to the shop assistant, the magical creature shop owner Ruskin seemed to still be traveling in France with no signs of returning.
It might have been his imagination, but Adrian felt the assistant's hair had thinned considerably.
Meanwhile, Black was boredly tossing burning logs one by one into the fireplace, the fire salamanders were dancing happily and casting colorful reflections on his face.
"Still no news about Peter?" Black sighed. "It's been nearly half a month."
"The Ministry probably needs some time to react," Adrian replied with casualness. "After all, they caught the wrong person, let an innocent man stay in Azkaban for twelve years, and allowed the real culprit to remain free—this isn't a small matter."
"How terrible," Black said in a low voice. "But you should at least tell me where Peter is now."
Adrian smiled and said nothing.
Dumbledore hadn't told Black Peter's location and had asked Adrian not to reveal it either. After all, before the truth came to light, anything could reverse.
Though Dumbledore was willing to trust Black, who could prove that what Black said was definitely true?
Not everyone was like Adrian, knowing everything.
In a sense, Black was still under Adrian's surveillance.
"Knock knock—"
Someone knocked on the office door.
Black immediately reacted, dropping to the ground and transforming into his Animagus form—a large black dog.
Adrian waved his wand, dyeing it pink.
The pink transformation was becoming routine by now, though Black's eyes still managed to convey profound resentment even in canine form. His tail remained stubbornly still, a small act of rebellion against his humiliating disguise.
"Come in."
Under Black's resentful gaze, the door was slowly pushed open.
The next second, Harry appeared in the office.
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