Chapter 217. Calm Down
"I never thought Black would end up like this."
Mr Weasley spoke with a sigh.
"Don't keep on about it, dear," Mrs Weasley said, displeased. "Harry's right here. Don't put more pressure on him."
"It's all right." Harry shook his head.
"I ought to impress something else on you, Harry," Mr Weasley said, looking at him seriously. "No matter how much you hate Black, if you run into him, run away at once. Don't try to take him on—he's an extremely dangerous wizard."
"I understand, Mr Weasley." Harry nodded. "I know I'm no match for him."
Of course he wasn't foolish enough to think he could defeat an adult wizard—let alone a vicious criminal.
What he couldn't understand was why Mr Weasley thought he hated Black.
"I'm glad you think that way." Mr Weasley let out a breath. "I was afraid hatred would cloud your judgement. You're much calmer than I expected."
Hatred?
Harry was at a loss.
By rights, it ought to be Black who hated him. What deep grudge could he possibly bear against Black?
Did he hate him for joining Lord Voldemort?
Plenty of people had followed Voldemort; he couldn't possibly hate them all.
Wait!
Harry narrowed his eyes. There had to be details he didn't know.
To get to the truth, he didn't voice his doubts immediately.
"Could you tell me a bit about Black?" Harry asked the two of them evenly. "You seem to know him well."
"We don't know that much," Mr Weasley said, surprised, then asked carefully, "Harry, do you know that Black was once your father's friend?"
Harry's heart gave a jolt.
This involved his father?
He hadn't expected that.
Forcing himself to stay composed, he shook his head slightly. "Never heard of it. In fact, the only thing I learned—from Professor Wesson—is that Black most likely broke out for me."
"That's not good," Mr Weasley said after a pause, with a wry smile. "I suppose now isn't the best time to talk about this."
Mrs Weasley's face changed. "No more, Arthur."
But what had been said couldn't be taken back.
Harry already knew there was a link between Black and his father.
"Please tell me, Mr Weasley," he said, working to keep his expression calm. "I can't rely on guesswork to know what kind of person Black is. Did Black do something to my dad?"
No sooner had he spoken than he noticed both Weasleys' expressions go rigid.
It seemed his guess was close to the mark.
At last, Mr Weasley sighed.
"All right, Harry, you're not wrong—and you'd have to know sooner or later," he said slowly. "Black and your father were once good friends and colleagues, doing certain secret work together to fight Voldemort. You can be proud of your father—he was a hero."
"After that, Black betrayed us—and betrayed your father—and joined Voldemort's side.
"And it was his betrayal that led to what happened to you."
"Later, when Voldemort fell, Black was sent to Azkaban for blowing up a street full of Muggles and for his treachery."
Harry listened in silence and didn't respond until Mr Weasley finished.
"This is too heavy for a child, Arthur," Mrs Weasley said, steadying a hand on Harry's shoulder, her expression conflicted.
"No, it's fine," Harry said with unexpected calm. "Thank you for telling me instead of keeping it from me. I'm all right."
"Really?" Mrs Weasley still looked worried.
"It's all right," Harry repeated, then rose from the sofa. "I should get back. See you."
"Oh—wait."
Mrs Weasley hurriedly caught his hand and pressed a small vial into it. "A Calming Draught, Harry. Remember to drink it before bed—it'll help you sleep."
Back in his room, Harry collapsed face-first onto the bed.
Though he had acted very calm in front of the Weasleys, he didn't feel that way inside.
His heart felt as though it would leap out of his chest.
Sirius Black…
So that was it… so that was it!
Shameful traitor!
Anger surged up in Harry.
No wonder everyone said Black's target was him—so Black and his father had that kind of past.
There was only one choice in front of him now: revenge.
Of course, not now.
Though angry, Harry hadn't lost his reason.
With his current ability, he could probably handle an ordinary adult wizard, but someone like Black—he wasn't confident at all.
He had to become stronger!
For the first time, Harry felt an urgent need to improve his strength.
"Hoo…" He drew a deep breath and muttered to himself, "Calm down… it's not time yet."
To steady his emotions, Harry drank the Calming Draught Mrs Weasley had given him.
The potion worked very well. A strange tranquillity spread through him.
The rain outside the window grew distant, and the outlines of the things in the room began to blur.
His eyelids grew heavier and heavier, until he fell into darkness.
Early the next morning, Harry opened his eyes.
He rubbed his forehead—he'd slept poorly and it ached dully.
"Harry?"
A voice came from outside the door. "Time to get up."
"Coming."
Harry scrambled out of bed and hurried into his clothes.
He opened the door and was surprised to find Mrs Weasley outside.
"I was afraid you might keep brooding about Black," Mrs Weasley said, worried. "You're all right, aren't you?"
"Oh, I'm fine. Really." Harry forced a smile.
After that, he rushed to pack his things. They had half an hour before they needed to leave for the station.
Mr Weasley had arranged two cars. He drove one himself; the other was driven by a man Harry didn't know.
All the way, Harry sat between the twins, listening to their rough-and-tumble banter, and relaxed a little despite himself.
Yes—thinking about Black now wouldn't help at all.
He hadn't even truly seen Black.
But he couldn't guarantee that, if he did run into Black, he wouldn't whip out his wand and fire off a Reductor Curse.
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