Chapter 44 — One Year Later
A whole year passes after the day Sirius Black was proven innocent. Life moves forward, even if the older wizards stay busy with politics and apologies. For us students, Hogwarts goes on as usual, and now I am getting ready for my third year, not second. It feels strange to say it out loud. I am thirteen now. Taller. A little stronger. A little wiser about how the magical world works.
I stand in my room, finishing my packing for Hogwarts. My trunk is full and my wand holster fits comfortably on my wrist. Outside my window, Privet Drive looks the same as always. Quiet, neat, and far from anything magical.
Harry is downstairs helping Dad carry the bags. Dudley is pretending he is not excited to see the trains again. Mum is shouting at all of us to hurry up because we will be late, as usual.
While I pack, I think about everything that happened this past year. Sirius Black's name comes up first.
He has not come to visit Harry even once. Not because he doesn't want to. Actually, Madam Andromeda Tonks wrote to me several times about it. She kept me updated and we have been in touch through the owl post.
The truth is that Sirius is still recovering.
Lord Arcturus Black has made sure Sirius receives the best treatment possible, not only in St Mungo's but also from healers across the continent. "If the future Lord Black is to take his seat," Madam Tonks wrote, "his mind and body must be fully healed."
I understood what she meant. Eight years in Azkaban would break most people. Sirius survived it, but not without damage.
Madam Tonks sent me a thank-you note the same day the trial was announced. Then another when Sirius was freed. And one more when he finally returned to Black Manor from the Hospital. Every letter had the same message hidden between the lines:
Sirius will come when he is ready, or when Lord Black decides he is ready. And he wants to meet Harry more than anything.
Until then, we wait.
The rest of the year at Hogwarts was surprisingly normal. No one tried to kill us. No monster crawled out of a chamber. No dark lord in the back of somebody's head. The only odd thing was that the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor changed again. The poor man had a little accident, fell somewhere he shouldn't have, and he couldn't continue teaching.
At least he did not die or vanish like some others. So by Hogwarts standards, it was a good year.
About Sirius's imprisonment, Professor Dumbledore did get a lot of fingers pointed at him. Many witches and wizards believed he should have known better. He should have checked the facts. He should have trusted Sirius more.
But Dumbledore released a long apology to the House of Black. He blamed his grief over the Potters' deaths and the shock of the betrayal. He said his judgment was clouded and that he made a mistake.
When I told Mum and Dad about it, Dad shook his head.
"Typical politician. When the truth comes out, they all use cards. Sympathy card is the strongest one."
I had to agree.
That day I realised something important that Dumbledore is a good man, but he is not a saint.
And that is fine. Saints don't run schools or fight dark wizards. Politicians do. Leaders do. People who make mistakes do. And people all have their agendas.
I was twelve then, too young to worry about politics. So I focused on what mattered, studying, practicing magic, and keeping my wandless control stable.
By the end of the year, my grades were strong. Top three in my year again. First in Hufflepuff. I even thanked Percy Weasley publicly for helping me with organisation and discipline and especially for his notes. His spine straightened and chest puffed out like a proud peacock. Later half the girls in the junior years and same yearn constantly came to him for notes and some extracurricular activities.
Ahem-ahem.
We will not talk about those. Let's leave Percy and his activities, extracurricular, to him.
But then there were my extracurricular activities. Last year, Wanda, Natasha, and Missy, those same three girls, seemed to have changed their candle flames to torch flames.
They have developed a strange habit of appearing everywhere I went.
In the library? Wanda.
In the common room? Natasha.
In the corridor between classes? Missy.
Sometimes two of them arrived at once, and they glared at each other like lionesses fighting over the same prey.
The prey being me.
I was exasperated all year. My roommates warned me every week. "Arthur, those three are dangerous."
I replied, "Every girl is dangerous when it comes to this."
These guys had their own affairs and extracurricular activities.
Even some professors noticed. Professor Sprout gave me a pitying smile whenever she saw all three girls appear behind me like a small army. Professor Flitwick tried not to laugh. Professor Snape simply raised an eyebrow as if to say, "I warned you."
But the strangest was Professor McGonagall's reaction. Every time she saw it, she was very happy and gave me an encouraging smile. I think she is just a step away from giving me dating tips.
Still, nothing terrible happened. It was just a year of school, classes, pranks, homework, house points, and the usual mischief.
Speaking of mischief, the Weasley twins were in full form last year. Every week they found a new way to prank someone. Paint explosions, charmed quills, singing goblets, trick staircases, everything one can think of or not imagine. They are much more than the books ever show. The books give them only half the credit.
Twice they crossed the line. Professor McGonagall gave them a strict reprimand and deducted points. Professor Snape gave them detention that made even Fred think twice. After that, they learned to keep their pranks inside a safe boundary.
And so the year ended smoothly.
Now, as I close my trunk and drag it downstairs, I feel calm. More ready. Third year awaits. Hogsmeade weekends, harder subjects, new challenges. And somewhere out there, Sirius Black heals a little more each day.
Maybe this year he will finally come for Harry.
End of Chapter 44 — One Year Later