novelcrest Chapter 279 The Depressed Sirius
Chapter 279 The Depressed Sirius
Chapter 279 The Depressed Sirius
"Let's go, Sirius." Sean called out towards the bathroom. Sirius looked up at his reflection in the mirror, a wry smile on his face, which was still damp with water droplets.
He put down the coins in his hand, shook his hair, and walked towards the door.
"Why are you in such a hurry?" Sirius said, pushing open the bathroom door. "My hair isn't dry yet."
Sean stood in the doorway, wearing a gray wizard's robe, constantly adjusting his clothes in front of the mirror, and casually replied, "What's the point of washing your hair? You'll still have to drink Polyjuice Potion and become someone else later."
As he spoke, Sean placed the compound decoction he had prepared earlier on the table.
Sirius frowned, casually brushed his still-dripping hair aside, and then brought the Polyjuice Potion to his lips. "As if I wanted to be that guy." He scoffed. "This Polyjuice Potion smells worse than the toilets of Azkaban."
Sean shrugged. "Complaining won't help. A plan is a plan, and it has to be carried out step by step. Otherwise, look at you now, you'll be surrounded by Aurors within five minutes of going out."
Sirius took a sip of Polyjuice Potion, his face contorting as if struggling to endure the indescribable bitterness. He put down the bottle, smacked his lips, and continued, "Honestly, I'd almost forgotten that Aurors were efficient."
Sean chuckled. "When it comes to bringing you back to Azkaban, I'm sure they won't hesitate to use any means necessary."
Sirius Black slowly began to feel changes in his body; his bones were twisting, his muscles were reorganizing, and his face was gradually transforming into that of another person. His once messy black hair also quickly grew shorter, and he became a stranger to everyone else in front of the mirror.
Sean glanced at him sideways, a satisfied smile on his face, then changed the subject, "Alright, we can set off now, to Diagon Alley."
Sirius waved casually, as if he had just slightly recovered from the pressure of change, and asked lazily, "How do we get there?"
"Drive," Sean replied curtly.
"What is a car?" Sirius asked, looking confused.
Sean gave him a disgruntled look. "It's that thing with four tires parked by the door."
Sirius Black couldn't help but chuckle. "A wizard driving a Muggle's car, how ridiculous. But, by the way..."
What are we going there for?
"Go to Diagon Alley to buy some books for next semester's classes, and... while you're at it, go see your godson."
Harry Potter.
Sean had barely finished speaking when he felt a gust of wind sweep past him.
Immediately, Sirius's voice came from the courtyard in front of the house, "Phillips, damn it, how do you open this car door?"
Sean stood there, shook his head helplessly, and a smile appeared on his lips.
He knew that Sirius Black would become incredibly eager and impatient at the mere mention of Harry Potter's name.
So he slowly walked to the door and saw Sirius standing next to his old Ford, frantically trying to figure out how to open and close the door.
"Can't you calm down a little?" Sean said, his hands in the pockets of his robe, feigning seriousness.
Sirius frowned, like a child encountering Muggle objects for the first time, his face showing both impatience and a hint of helplessness.
"This stuff is just as difficult to obtain as the alchemy tools we usually use. I'd much rather use that damn Floo Powder to get to Diagon Alley." He turned to Sean, looking intently. "Why don't we use Floo Powder to get to Diagon Alley?"
"Because—that's 'damn' Floo powder." Sean resisted looking at Sirius's wronged expression. He gently tugged at the handrail next to the car door, and the door opened easily. As he gestured for Sirius to get in, he continued to tease, "Some things are quite convenient for Muggles, it's just that you're not used to them."
Sirius finally got into the car, but he was clearly not paying attention to Sean's teasing.
He stared at the dials and buttons, his lips twitching slightly, his face full of distrust. "Can all this junk really get us to Diagon Alley?"
Sean got into the driver's seat, started the car skillfully, and said with a chuckle, "Trust me, this is much more fun than Floo Powder, and besides, your godson won't run away."
Upon hearing Harry's name, Sirius's expression softened slightly. He adjusted his posture, trying to make himself look less awkward.
The car started, and the gentle vibrations made him feel a little uncomfortable, but he quickly shut his mouth and focused on looking ahead.
However, this focus only lasted for a very short time.
Soon, Sirius became unusually agitated, shifting back and forth like a lion trapped in a cage. His eyes would occasionally dart out the window, then glance at the dashboard inside, seemingly extremely dissatisfied with the Muggle car's speed.
"Why isn't the car moving?" he couldn't help but ask again, his tone revealing a hint of impatience.
Sean took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. "The light is red ahead; we have to stop and wait."
Sirius bit his lower lip, his fingers tapping anxiously on the edge of the car door, as if trying to vent his frustration. The light had just turned green, and the car hadn't moved more than a few meters when he spoke again, "Why isn't it moving again?"
Sean's face was filled with helplessness as he explained softly, "There are pedestrians ahead; we can't run into them."
"Damn it!" Sirius muttered, clearly annoyed by the Muggle traffic rules. He gripped the seat tightly, as if suppressing an urge to do something.
He wasn't used to waiting, especially when he could see her beloved godson again; time seemed to stretch out infinitely.
"How much longer until we get there?" he almost shouted, his voice filled with obvious urgency.
Sean glanced at him, took the two Cokes handed to him by the KFC server by the roadside, took a sip, and then handed the other one to Sirius, his voice calm but with a hint of teasing, "Don't worry, unless we fly there, your urging won't make things much faster."
Sirius glanced at the Coke Sean offered, his expression a mix of emotions. He was clearly not interested in this Muggle drink, but he didn't want to refuse. With a hint of reluctance, he took the cup, frowned, and took a sip, nearly choking on the icy liquid.
"What the hell is this?" He coughed, giving a disgusted look, and casually placed the cup on the cup holder next to the car door. "Why do Muggles like this junk?"
Sean couldn't help but laugh. "They think the wizard's butterbeer tastes weird, too." He glanced warily at Sirius. "Relax, we'll be there in a minute."
We arrived at Diagon Alley.
Sirius then realized exactly how long Sean meant by "a while".
To be precise, it is one hour, forty-two minutes, and twenty-five seconds.
How could anyone be so foolish as to waste so much time on the road?
Thinking of this, he glanced angrily at Sean sitting in the driver's seat, and then, almost the instant the car came to a stop, he impatiently opened the car door.
Sean watched Sirius pacing back and forth in front of his car, while slowly unbuckling his seatbelt, shaking his head as he did so, muttering things like "haste makes waste."
Meanwhile, Harry was having the happiest days of his life in over a decade.
In the past, he had never enjoyed the freedom to do as he pleased, to get up whenever he wanted, and to eat whatever he liked.
Now, in Diagon Alley, he can go anywhere he wants—as long as he's on this cobblestone wizarding street.
The street was lined with some of the most attractive wizarding shops in the world, and Harry had no intention of breaking his promise to Fudge and returning to the boring Muggle world.
Every morning, Harry would have breakfast at the Leaky Cauldron.
He enjoyed observing the customers around him: there were short witches from the countryside, dressed in strange clothes, shopping early in the morning; there were seemingly weak wizards, arguing endlessly about the latest article in the Daily Prophet; unkempt wizards; and noisy dwarves. Once, Harry even saw a woman who looked exactly like an old witch, wrapped in a heavy balaclava-style wool coat, ordering a plate of raw liver.
After breakfast, Harry would walk to the backyard of the pub, take out his wand, tap the third brick from the left above the dumpster, then step back and watch quietly as the wall slowly opened, revealing the entrance to Diagon Alley.