Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 490: Who Is the Godchild, After All?

Neville had always thought that Harry only had an aunt and uncle—people Harry had described as mean enough to deny him even a Hogsmeade permission form. Hearing now that Harry had a godfather came as a complete shock, even more surprising than seeing Kyle emerge from the Gryffindor common room.

“You have a godfather?” Neville exclaimed, wide-eyed. “I’ve never heard you mention it before!”

“I only found out recently myself,” Harry replied with a grin, stuffing sweets into Neville’s pocket. Before, he’d had no choice but to keep Sirius’s existence a secret due to his fugitive status, but now that Sirius had been acquitted, he could finally share the good news openly.

Harry kept his excitement in check, though. Since he hadn’t yet read the official news or received a letter confirming it, he avoided mentioning Sirius’s name directly.

Hermione, watching Harry’s excitement, felt a wave of happiness for him. She knew how much he had been hoping for this day. But… she lowered her head thoughtfully, as if something was troubling her.

Harry, meanwhile, was preoccupied with the candy bucket he’d set down on the table, dividing his attention between the sweets and the window. Each time an owl flew by, he leapt up expectantly, only to sit back down with a disappointed sigh when it wasn’t his.

“Don’t you find something odd about all this?” Hermione asked suddenly.

“What’s odd?” Harry murmured, distracted, his eyes still fixed on the window.

“Kyle,” Hermione replied firmly.

“What about him?” Ron asked, still fiddling with his new quill.

“Haven’t you noticed?” Hermione’s gaze shifted between them, her frustration clear. “How exactly did Kyle know that Sirius was acquitted?”

“The newspaper, obviously,” Ron said, shrugging. “He said The Daily Prophet rushed out an extra edition just because of it.”

“And these!” Hermione gestured at the golden cauldron on the table. “These things were all bought by Sirius in Diagon Alley. If he wanted to send them to Harry, why didn’t he just use an owl? Why did he go out of his way to have Kyle deliver them?”

Ron looked up, and Harry stopped watching the window.

They exchanged a glance, each thinking the same thing: if this was all meant for Harry, why had Kyle been the one to bring it? Had Sirius accidentally sent it to the wrong person? But that didn’t make sense—both he and Kyle were here at Hogwarts.

“Don’t you see?” Hermione continued, exasperated by their blank expressions. “It’s simple. I’d bet anything that Kyle was with Sirius. He was in Diagon Alley, too!”

“What?” Ron said, taken aback. “But… that’s impossible. How would he have gotten back without the Hogwarts Express?”

“There must be other ways,” Hermione reasoned. “And remember, at lunch today, Professor Dumbledore called Kyle to his office and didn’t come back until just now.”

“You think…” Harry frowned. “Dumbledore already knew about the retrial and took Kyle outside the school?”

“That’s my guess…”

The three fell silent, struggling to understand why Dumbledore had chosen to tell Kyle before anyone else. Harry felt a pang of frustration. He was Sirius’s godson, yet he was the last to know. Just as he was lost in thought, he felt a sharp peck on his hand.

“Ow!” He looked down and saw a Bludger-sized owl aggressively pecking his hand, a letter fastened beside it.

“Oh, it’s from Sirius!” Harry said excitedly as he tore open the envelope, with Hermione and Ron immediately crowding in to read over his shoulder.

Meanwhile, news of Sirius Black’s acquittal had spread like wildfire through Hogwarts, thanks to The Daily Prophet. Those with subscriptions had eagerly shared the front-page news, and now students across the castle were abuzz, even setting aside talk of the Triwizard Tournament. The legendary tale of a man who had endured twelve years in Azkaban, only to emerge to right his wrongs, had captivated the entire school. For a castle full of enthusiastic teenagers, Sirius’s story had all the elements of a thrilling epic.

By dinner, nearly everyone in the Great Hall was talking about it. Fred and George, who had initially been intent on questioning Harry about a mysterious suitcase, had shifted their focus entirely to Sirius. Harry, in his excitement, had let slip that Sirius was his godfather, and word had quickly spread throughout Gryffindor. Now, his housemates—and students from other houses—were desperate for any details that hadn’t been printed in the paper.

Around the tables, the speculation was rampant.

“I’ll bet Black did it on purpose,” declared Mikel at the Hufflepuff table. “He probably volunteered to be locked up in Azkaban just so he could go after the Death Eaters in there.”

“That’d be tricky, though,” someone countered. “The Dementors wouldn’t make it easy for anyone, even him.”

“Exactly why he took twelve years,” Mikel replied confidently. “And don’t forget, he’s the only person who’s ever escaped. He must have figured out a way to deal with the Dementors.”

His theory found plenty of eager supporters, nodding along as he explained. After all, if he’d managed to escape, surely he’d discovered a method to resist the Dementors. It made perfect sense.

“After he dealt with all the Death Eaters, he could finally get out, find the real traitor, and clear his name… Genius.”

Mikel’s eyes sparkled with admiration. “Imagine if Professor Dumbledore invited him to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts! No offense to Professor Moody, of course. I just mean… for next year…”

The infamous ”curse” on the Defense Against the Dark Arts post at Hogwarts was well-known among the students. They’d seen five different professors in five years, with none lasting beyond a single term. Even with Moody’s legendary reputation as an Auror, they weren’t holding their breath. After all, Gilderoy Lockhart had been famous too, and look how that turned out.

The students weren’t the only ones caught up in the news. In the staff room, the teachers were also deep in discussion. Dumbledore had managed to keep the whole matter under wraps, so most of the professors had only just learned of Sirius’s innocence that day.

Hagrid, in particular, was staring at the newspaper in astonishment. He’d spent months grumbling about Black, more than once declaring that if he ever caught him, he’d make him spend a miserable night dining in the dungeons—or else he’d turn himself into a Flobberworm. But now, everything had changed: Sirius was innocent, and the true traitor was someone else.

“What am I supposed to do now…” Hagrid muttered to himself, feeling torn between his pride and the desire to avoid eating his words—or becoming a Flobberworm.