Chapter 282 Follow-Up

The members of the Wizengamot stood up and stared at Sirius.

Like a kind of tacit understanding, they began to tidy up the documents silently, and left this deliberation room that brought both pain and new life.

After a long time, Dumbledore walked towards Sirius Black.

He leaned down and patted Black on the shoulder lightly.

Black lifted his tearful face and met Dumbledore's benevolent gaze.

Although Professor Dumbledore didn't say a word, a strong emotion rose up in Black's heart, making him feel at ease and full of hope.

Blake couldn't help but froze.

Professor Dumbledore patted him on the shoulder again, nodded, then turned and left the darkroom.

"Let's go, Allen." Owen Harris felt it was time to leave.

But Allen didn't move. He pointed to a witch sitting in the middle a few rows behind them.

Among the few people left, Owen followed the direction pointed by his youngest son and saw her at a glance.

Short blond hair, wearing a magenta robe, sucking the nib of a piercing green quill.

There was no doubt that this was Rita Skeeter, chief reporter of the Daily Prophet.

"Dad, before you see Fudge, it's best to talk to her first. I'll leave by myself in a while." Allen reminded in a low voice.

Owen nodded knowingly, and walked towards Rita.

Allen noticed that Rita Skeeter and her father seemed to have a good conversation after a short shock.

Allen is not worried that Rita will write scribbles at all. She is a person who knows the times, and she will not easily provoke those in power.

When only Alan and Black were left in the gloomy dark room, Alan still didn't leave.

He knew Black needed time to adjust.

It wasn't until Black staggered to his feet that Allen stepped forward.

Blake raised his sleeve and wiped his face carelessly.

"You shouldn't watch this kind of execution." Black looked at Allen with gloomy eyes and said seriously.

He felt that although Allen was very powerful, he was still a minor wizard after all, and he shouldn't have witnessed such cruel punishment.

"Most people are most worried about death. This is true for Voldemort, and so is Peter Pettigrew. The tragedy of the Potters stems from Voldemort's pursuit of immortality, and Pettigrew's fear of death." Allen half It's an exclamation, half a reminder.

"Death may be a punishment, but it cannot atone for sin. I don't know if this compensation is enough to pay for thirteen years of mental pain with the pain of being sucked out of the soul for a few seconds!" Sirius was also very surprised after finishing speaking, He actually opened up his heart in front of a child.

Maybe it's because of his calm demeanor and his ability to be stronger than ordinary wizards at a young age, so he really doesn't feel like a child to others.

Allen looked at Sirius' gloomy eyes mixed with pain, and replied seriously: "You are right, sometimes justice is not enough to appease people's hearts."

"In the eyes of the world, Peter Pettigrew has received the punishment he deserved, washed away his sins, and may be forgiven by Merlin." Allen said slowly.

Blake frowned.

"However, if another person inflicts me with a slow, deep, boundless, and constant pain, then I want to retaliate by inflicting the same pain on the other person as much as possible. As a famous Muggle saying goes: Eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot."

"However, hatred makes people blind, and anger can also make people reckless. Those who blindly seek revenge may end up drinking bitter juice themselves." Allen glanced at Black and continued: "In my opinion, Pettigrew Peter He is now being punished for his crimes. Thirteen years, being a mouse and hiding from a wizarding family is not an easy task. The pain and suffering you caused him in the pursuit of him , perhaps far more than the damage he received from the dementor's kiss.

"

Black listened to Allen's words in his heart, and the pain and resentment that lingered in his heart seemed to be relieved.

As for the remaining emotions, they will obviously fade away over time.

Sirius took a deep look at Allen, and suddenly changed the subject, "You have done what you promised me, and I will keep your promise and fulfill my oath."

Hearing this, Allen couldn't help laughing. Although he didn't like the character of the other party, he certainly believed in Black's character, otherwise he wouldn't have made this agreement with him in the first place—although he added an additional A layer of insurance.

"Why don't you follow me to receive it now?" Sirius said.

Blake is a short-tempered person, and he doesn't want to default on Alan.

Allen thought about it, felt that there was still enough time, and didn't want to have long nights and dreams, so he nodded and agreed.

After writing a letter to his father Owen indicating the movement, Allen followed Sirius Black and left the Ministry of Magic swaggeringly.

Some of the wizards who saw Sirius on the way didn't know what happened, and they seemed a little terrified.

"This is what freedom feels like!" After leaving the Ministry of Magic, Sirius opened his arms and embraced the sky.

Allen looked at Sirius with a smile, especially understanding the feeling of this prisoner who had been hiding in Tibet at the moment.

When Sirius calmed down, the two apparated and went directly to the old house of the Black family - No. 12 Grimmauld Place.

The old house presented to Allen had dirty walls and gloomy windows.

They walked up the dilapidated stone steps and found that the black paint on the door of this old house was peeled off, and it was covered with scratches from left to right.

The silver knocker was in the shape of a large, coiled snake. There was no keyhole in the door, and no letter box.

"Excuse me, can I borrow your wand?" Black asked.

Allen blinked, removed his wand, and handed it to Black.

Blake waved his wand and found that he could barely make any movement, then frowned and weighed the weight, feeling that it seemed heavier than he imagined, but then shrugged and tapped lightly on the door with Allen's wand one time. Alan heard many loud sounds of metal clashing and rattling like chains.

The door creaked open.

Blake returned the wand to Allen casually.

The two of them crossed the threshold and entered the almost dark hall.

Allen smelled damp and dusty, and a sweet, rotten smell. The place feels like an abandoned empty house.

Then he heard a rustling sound, and then a row of old-fashioned gas lamps on the wall came on, casting a dangling, unreal light on the peeling wallpaper in the long, gloomy hallway. and burnished and raveled rugs.

A cobweb chandelier shimmered overhead, and age-blackened portraits hung crookedly on the walls.

Allen noticed that the chandelier and the chandelier on a rickety table nearby were both shaped like giant snakes.

This old house has a strong imprint of Slytherin.