Although the Dursleys' were predictably absent from King's Cross Station, Harry was not troubled by their failure to appear. Because he quickly caught sight of a familiar figure in the bustling crowd.
Adrian was currently leaning against a pillar not far away, boredly fiddling with a pocket watch—he hadn't chosen to take the train today. Although that would have been a nice experience, it would have required a considerable amount of time.
During the train's journey, he had returned home, tidied up his shop, and made a round of his plantation.
But now, as he reflected on the efficiency of his afternoon, it seemed that much of his meticulous work had been unnecessary. Ever since employing Dobby was perpetually spotless. Indeed, the decision to hire Dobby had been one of the wisest choices he'd made in recent years.
After saying goodbye to the Weasley family, Harry quickly walked through the crowded throng toward Adrian, his luggage cart making rattling sounds on the stone pavement.
When he approached, Adrian was just putting his pocket watch into his inner pocket, looking up to give him a faint smile.
"Put your luggage down," Adrian pointed to the ground. " We'll be heading back now."
Harry obeyed without question. The moment he released his grip on the cart's handle, the luggage along with the cart vanished, leaving behind only a single white feather from Hedwig.
"Your belongings have been sent directly to your room," Adrian explained to Harry's mildly surprised expression. "Hedwig has been transported as well, but I'd recommend feeding her something when we arrive. She must be hungry after the long journey."
"Oh, Of course." Harry nodded and asked, "How are we getting back?"
"Apparition," Adrian replied with a same casual tone. "It's both fast and convenient. Though if you'd prefer a more conventional approach, we could call a taxi, though I don't have any Muggle money on me."
He began leading Harry toward the station's exit as he spoke.
When they emerged from the magical concealment of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters into the ordinary Muggle square of King's Cross Station, a suspicious character blocked their path.
This was a man dressed strangely, wearing mismatched Muggle clothing—a wrinkled brown suit jacket, overly loose sweatpants, and stubbornly wearing black sunglasses even in the dim passageway.
Just as Harry was puzzled, Adrian raised an eyebrow slightly. "Black?"
The man immediately removed his glasses, revealing a brilliant smile.
"Ah, Adrian! Please, just call me Sirius. There's no need for such formality between us. Though of course, I'll address you by your surname if you prefer it...."
"That won't be necessary," Adrian replied with a slight nod, his tone neither warm nor cold but courteous.
'So, it really was him.'
Black's appearance here, at this moment and location, was clearly no coincidence, and Adrian already knew the most likely reason for this encounter.
Harry's eyes widened slightly at this moment, feeling somewhat nervous—their conversation clearly told him that this strange man was indeed the legendary Azkaban escapee Black.
He felt his heart skip a beat, his throat tightening, momentarily unsure what to say.
This was his first formal meeting with Sirius Black, his godfather.
At this point, Sirius turned his gaze to Harry beside Adrian, and he was somewhat excited.
"You're Harry, aren't you?" Sirius asked, though his tone showed he already knew the answer with certainty. "Harry Potter."
Harry managed a somewhat awkward nod. Almost unconsciously, he found his gaze drifting toward Adrian for support.
"I believe we've exchanged letters," Sirius continued, his voice carrying a tremor of excitement that he was clearly struggling to control. "You understand, of course, that I'm... that is to say, I'm your godfather."
The words seemed to stick slightly in his throat, as if he was still learning to say them after years of believing he'd lost the right.
"Yes," Harry managed to reply, though the single word came out smaller and more uncertain than he'd intended.
"Oh, I thought as much!" Sirius's face lit up with unmistakable joy, and before Harry could react, he found himself pulled forcefully against Sirius's side in an embrace.
"Then as your godfather, I have an obligation to ensure your wellbeing and happiness. I've been doing some investigation into your current living situation, and frankly, what I've discovered is appalling. This family you're staying with—the Dundleys..."
"It's Dursley, Mr. Black," Harry corrected quietly, his voice somewhat muffled by Sirius's enthusiastic embrace and his own surprise at the man's passionate intensity.
"Ah yes, Dursley," Sirius repeated, slapping his forehead with his free hand in a gesture of self-reproach, though he still managed to mangle the pronunciation slightly.
"The name doesn't matter—what matters is that from everything I've heard, they're absolutely dreadful to you! I cannot fathom why Dumbledore would place you with such people.
But that's all going to change now. You'll come live with me at Grimmauld Place—oh, you'll love it there once I've finished cleaning it up properly. I have so many stories to tell you about..."
"Ahem."
Adrian's gentle cough cut interrupted Sirius's enthusiastic monologue. "Sirius, Harry seems to be having some trouble breathing."
He gestured meaningfully toward Sirius's arm, which had tightened around Harry's shoulders with such enthusiasm that the boy was indeed looking somewhat red in the face.
The observation seemed to snap Sirius back to awareness of his presence. He released Harry immediately, stepping back with an expression of embarrassed concern.
"Oh! I'm terribly sorry—I got rather carried away there. It's just that I've been waiting so long for this moment, dreaming of it really, and now that it's finally here..." He trailed off, then brightened again with enthusiasm.
"But yes, you must come home with me, Harry. It will be absolutely wonderful. We'll have the most marvelous time getting to know each other properly."
Harry rubbed his somewhat sore shoulder, managing a smile that he hoped conveyed gratitude rather than the uncertainty he was actually feeling. "It's perfectly alright—I'm genuinely glad to meet you at last..."
And he was glad, truly.
Even from this brief encounter, Harry could sense that Sirius Black was a good man—passionate, perhaps impulsive, certainly intense, but driven by genuine love and concern rather than any darker motivation.
The problem wasn't Sirius's character or his intentions; it was simply the overwhelming nature of being asked to completely uproot his life and move in with someone who was still, despite their connection, basically a stranger.
Harry glanced hopefully toward Adrian, seeking guidance or perhaps intervention, but the professor appeared to be completely absorbed in studying a passing Muggle tourist whose hat had apparently captured his interest with unusual intensity.
Finally, after a moment of internal struggle, Harry drew a slow breath and made his decision. "Thank you so much for your kindness, Mr. Black—truly, I appreciate it more than I can say. But... I think I still need to return to the Dursleys for this summer."
Sirius's smile froze instantly. "What? Why? Those Dursl... Dursl..."
"What? But why on earth would you choose to go back to those... those Dursl... Dursl..."
He struggled with the surname for several seconds, his frustration with both the pronunciation and Harry's decision.
"There are several reasons," Harry explained patiently, recognizing that Sirius's confusion was genuine and deserved a thorough explanation. "The most crucial is that I need to stay with blood relatives for a period of time. so... the magic on me will continue to be effective."
Hearing this, Sirius scratched his hair in frustration. "But..."
"Please don't worry about me," Harry interrupted gently, touched by Sirius's concern. "The situation truly isn't as terrible as you might imagine. Professor Westeros looks after me whenever I need assistance or support."
Sirius opened his mouth as if to argue further, his expression suggesting he had considerably more to say on the subject, but at that moment the station around them seemed to be more crowded.
More and more Muggle travelers were beginning to gather in their vicinity.
Adrian, apparently sensing the attention they were attracting, stepped smoothly back into the conversation. "I think it would be wise for us to continue this discussion elsewhere,"
Half an hour later, the scene had shifted dramatically from the bustling anonymity of King's Cross Station to the ordinary sitting room of Number Four, Privet Drive.
In the Dursleys' living room, Harry and Sirius sat on the sofa, discussing matters concerning blood magic.
At this moment, the Dursleys were cowering at the stair, looking at them in horror, while Adrian was beside them explaining the situation. "That's Sirius Black, Harry's godfather. He just finished serving twelve years in prison and came specifically to see him..."
"Prison?!" Vernon's exclamation erupted from him like steam from an overheated kettle, his entire body seeming to vibrate with terror. His double chins trembled uncontrollably, and his small eyes had grown as wide as his limited face would allow. "What... what did he do? What sort of criminal have you brought into our home?!"
"Ah, you're inquiring about the original charges that led to his imprisonment?" Adrian replied lightly. "He was accused of murdering several Muggles—that's the term wizards use for non-magical people like yourselves...Of course, that's not the truth..."
Before Adrian could finish speaking, Vernon's face turned deathly pale, and he exclaimed. "Kill... killed people!?"
Petunia's reaction wasn't much better.
Adrian mischievously remained silent for ten seconds before leisurely adding. "—though it was later proven he was wrongly accused."
Only then did Vernon and Petunia breathe a sigh of relief.
But regardless, the man in front of them was definitely someone they could afford to provoke.
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