Chapter 483: Sirius Black Is About to Escape

Mr. Weasley told the Daily Prophet happily:

“We’re planning to spend our summer vacation in Egypt—our eldest son Bill works as a curse-breaker at Gringotts Wizarding Bank there.”

The Weasley family will stay in Egypt for a month and return in time for the new term at Hogwarts, where all five of the Weasley children are currently enrolled.

Sirius glanced at the moving photograph and saw nine Weasleys standing before a massive pyramid, waving vigorously.

A smile spread across his face.

Mrs. Weasley, short and plump; Mr. Weasley, tall and bald; six sons and one daughter—all had fiery red hair.

Thin, lanky, clumsy Ron stood in the center, his pet rat Scabbers perched on his shoulder, one arm wrapped around his sister Ginny.

Sirius knew the time had come.

He did not immediately study magic but walked toward the dungeons.

He faced no resistance—Professor Snape had approved his leave request.

“Though all these activities are useless, you’re preparing…”

Professor Snape spoke coldly from the shadows.

“You mean?”

Sirius was puzzled.

“Hmm…”

Professor Snape swept his robe, and the dungeon door shut.

Sirius was utterly baffled until Professor McGonagall came hurrying down the stairs.

“Preparing what? It’s getting late, child. Marcus and the others want to host it at the McGonagall villa—their letter should arrive shortly.”

Professor McGonagall looked at Sirius, then quickly looked away.

“Preparing what, Professor?”

Sirius couldn’t understand.

“Of course, preparing—oh, are you leaving?”

Professor McGonagall noticed the slip in his hand and smiled gently.

“Come, I’ll go with you.”

…

Until leaving Hogwarts Castle, Sirius remained completely confused.

Professor McGonagall, however, seemed in high spirits; she had a long checklist—Sirius had last seen such a long list when Hogwarts prepared for Christmas—and she checked it with slight tension, as if Christmas were just around the corner.

Since the professor kept adding items to the list, Sirius didn’t dare interrupt her.

So he quietly set his confusion aside—he had plenty of time to unravel it.

But now more important was that he needed to go to Privet Drive.

Soon, Harry would leave Privet Drive—or perhaps he wouldn’t?

According to what Sirius knew, Harry’s relationship with his aunt and uncle had improved considerably.

But Sirius was certain of one thing: at this critical moment, the Black he had long awaited would arrive here.

Harry would at least encounter Black once, after his birthday.

How long Black had been imprisoned, and precisely which day in July he escaped, Sirius did not know.

Therefore, he needed to arrive at Privet Drive early to prepare, so he could know the moment Black arrived.

July was drawing to a close, and Harry, at Privet Drive, was facing a special task.

With the help of his friends, he no longer had to endure living in the cupboard under the stairs.

He now slept in a spacious room; Uncle Vernon no longer stormed at him, and Dudley looked at him with disbelief and trembling.

Aunt Petunia had been silent for a long time, and at this point, Harry suddenly realized her attitude toward him was the only one that hadn’t changed much.

She still despised magic, but lately there was more complexity to it.

The way she looked at Harry was something Harry couldn’t understand.

Previously, Harry had thought those eyes held only hatred, but now they held something else—something inexplicable that Harry couldn’t fathom.

In the afternoon, Harry held the envelope in his hand, thinking about his task, and looked again at it.

[Dear Harry:

You wouldn’t believe how amazing Egypt is. Bill showed us all the tombs—the magic ancient Egyptian wizards cast on them, I swear you wouldn’t believe it.

Mum wouldn’t let Ginny enter the last tomb. It was full of bizarre skeletons—Muggles who broke in, some with multiple heads and such.

I still can’t believe Dad won the Daily Prophet’s grand prize.

Seven hundred Galleons! Most of it went toward this trip, but they’re going to buy me new clothes for the term.]

Harry clearly remembered Ron’s old clothes.

[We’ll return a week before term starts, then go to London to buy my new clothes and our new textbooks.

Do you think we might run into you there? I heard those Muggles aren’t bothering you anymore.]

[P.S. Percy became Head Boy. He got the letter last week.]

Harry looked again at the photo. Percy, in his seventh year at Hogwarts, looked especially proud. His hair was perfectly neat, topped with a beautiful Turkish hat, the Head Boy badge pinned to it, his horn-rimmed glasses glinting in Egypt’s sunlight.

He smiled slowly, then opened another letter:

[Dear Mr. Potter:

Please note that the new term begins on September 1st.

The Hogwarts Express will depart from Platform Nine and Three-Quarters at King’s Cross Station at eleven o’clock.

Third-year students are permitted to visit Hogsmeade on certain weekends.

Please have your parents or other legal guardians sign the permission form enclosed. The textbook list for next term is also attached.

—Yours faithfully, Deputy Headmistress: Professor McGonagall]

He stared at the letter, carefully putting it away.

This was his task.

He needed to go to Hogsmeade.

But first, he had to fulfill Aunt Petunia’s request.

“Harry, your birthday is coming.”

Yesterday, Aunt Petunia had said this, her expression slow and unnatural.

Harry was surprised—he thought she’d never remembered.

“Will you celebrate it? Invite your friends.”

Aunt Petunia said.

Harry immediately knew they wanted to meet Mr. Filius and Mr. Green.

It wasn’t hard to understand—they’d landed a big project through your friends!

The money earned was enough to replace this house.

But Harry had never realized they’d be willing to renovate a large room for themselves after earning it.

At this moment, Harry always felt something he’d overlooked, something buried under resentment, was rising to the surface.

“I… can?”

Harry asked cautiously.

“Of course.”

Aunt Petunia lowered her head.

This expression had become more common in her over the past year.

“That place you mentioned… Hogsmeade… those people… those places… you… you must be careful.”

Aunt Petunia said.

“Do you agree?”

Harry was extremely tense.

“I have only one requirement: your uncle’s sister is coming. You must not display your magic, and you must show her respect.”

Aunt Petunia had always cared about appearances; she and Uncle Vernon valued face above all else.

Harry nodded.

“Of course… we’ll make sure she treats you politely too.”

Aunt Petunia suddenly relented.

This was unexpected by Harry.

As she left the room, Aunt Petunia lingered at the door, then suddenly whispered through the crack:

“That Hogsmeade… those people… those places… you… you must be careful.”

When Harry looked toward the crack, Aunt Petunia had already clattered down the stairs.