"You're not allowed to do anything that dangerous until your name is cleared, wizard."
Will didn't give an inch.
"Cleared?"
Sirius repeated the word like he'd never heard it before.
"You know better than anyone that the truth is nothing like what most people believe. And my master has always been one of the very few who knows the real truth."
Will lifted his sharp little green face.
"What exactly… do you know?"
Sirius kept his ear pressed to the wall, staring at the small goblin butler with raw intensity.
"Everything you know. Everything you don't know. My master knows it all."
Will spoke slowly.
Sirius's lips pressed into a thin line. Inside his chest, a storm was raging.
Ever since his identity had been exposed, he'd sensed something different about these two. He'd had vague suspicions. But now everything was sliding into terrifying certainty.
He had appeared as an Animagus. Who else in the world knew he was an Animagus? His friends and enemies—how could any of them have let that slip?
And now the deepest secret he'd carried, the one almost no one alive knew… that had been dragged into the light too.
The moment the word "wrongfully" left Will's mouth, Sirius felt stripped naked. A sudden, dizzying wave of confusion and dread crashed over him.
"How could you possibly… how do you even know…"
His voice cracked.
"Wizard, my master's power is beyond anything you can imagine."
Will's tone was matter-of-fact.
"Impossible!"
Sirius sounded half-mad, the words scraping out of his throat.
"That rat couldn't have told you! And everyone else who knew is…"
"Dead."
Will said it plainly.
"How could you—"
Sirius looked lost.
"Read more newspapers, wizard."
Will ignored the man's shock and casually slid a fresh copy of the Daily Prophet into his hands. Then he picked up a misty-covered book—Tales of Dreams and Mist—and went back to reading.
Sirius snapped out of it after only a few seconds. He stared at the shy face on the front page, then at the gleaming golden title: Dreams and Gods. A thought he had only half-formed earlier suddenly crystallized in a way he never could have expected.
"Could I… see your master? Just once…"
Sirius's voice was hoarse.
"Mr. Puck?"
Will seemed to consider it.
"You're a bold one, wizard. I'll pass it along."
Room 10 fell silent.
The only sound left was the rapid rustle of newspapers and books.
Next door in Room 11, Sean stood up to leave.
"Sean, what you said…"
Harry followed him to the door.
"Yes, Harry. He won't hurt you. But you still need to be careful."
Sean spoke seriously, then closed the door behind him.
The Leaky Cauldron was quiet. Every now and then a snoring drunk at one of the tables let out a muffled gurgle.
Sean stepped across the soft rugs. The door to Room 10 swung open on its own. He let out a soft sigh and stepped inside.
"Mr. Black."
"Mr… Green."
Sirius hadn't spoken to many people in years. His voice came out rough and strange.
"You're an unregistered Animagus?"
Sirius hid the newspapers behind his back. The tremor in his wrist gave away how badly his hands were shaking.
In his unblinking stare, he watched the young wizard nod slowly.
"Ah… an unregistered Animagus…"
A flicker of nostalgia crossed Sirius's face. Then hatred twisted his features, only to melt away again when he looked at Sean. All that remained was deep, stunned respect.
"You'd better keep that secret, wizard," Will warned.
"Secret?"
Sirius gave a broken laugh.
"What secrets could any wizard have in front of you? Unless they never dream… and never die…"
He suddenly lunged forward, pressing close to Sean.
"You… you… we read that book. We thought it was just a legend, something that couldn't possibly be real…
But if it's true… no, it has to be true. You… you… do they hate me? I ruined everything. It was me. I destroyed it all. I'm the criminal. I belong in Azkaban. That's what I deserve…
But do they hate me? Do they?"
Sean stayed silent. He simply waved a finger; the kettle floated over and poured three steaming cups of pumpkin juice.
Sirius realized how wildly he'd been acting and dropped back into his chair, his gaunt body sinking deep into the cushions.
"Those who love us—do they ever really leave us? Or do we simply remember them more clearly when we're in trouble?
Those we love and who love us—can they truly hate us? Or do they live on inside our hearts, become part of us, so that when we hate, we're only hating ourselves?"
Sean spoke gently, slowly. He guided one warm cup into Sirius's trembling hands.
Sirius looked at him in a daze. As the warmth of the pumpkin juice slid down his throat, a flood of memories rushed in, unstoppable.
Outside, the lights of Diagon Alley had dimmed. Only the Leaky Cauldron's windows still glowed with warm yellow light.
Sirius sat frozen for a long time. The pumpkin juice slowly went cold. A rooster crowed somewhere, calling in the new day.
Sean had left long ago, but he hadn't returned to Hogwarts yet.
According to plan, he had already earned Sirius's trust. After helping the man with a few simple tasks, he would have easy access to Grimmauld Place.
But he no longer needed it.
Sean glanced at a box set far back on a shelf. Inside lay one of the darkest creations in wizarding history—Voldemort's Horcrux, Slytherin's locket.
The very first time Will had entered Grimmauld Place, the sharp-eyed goblin butler had spotted it and quietly brought it out.
…
During the few days Sean spent in Diagon Alley reshaping magic, he would sometimes see Sirius lurking on the Leaky Cauldron's balcony, watching Harry sit in the bright sunshine outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, working on his essays.
Florean Fortescue would chat excitedly with Harry, not only about medieval witch-burnings but also about giving the boy a free ice cream every half hour.
Every time that happened, the gaunt, shadowed man on the balcony would grip the railing so hard it looked ready to snap.
To keep him from leaping straight down, Will stood guard without relaxing for even a second.