The warmth of the "Three Broomsticks" tavern didn't seem to reach you. Hidden under your Invisibility Cloak, you were a ghost in the middle of the bustle, the Marauder's Map tucked safely in your pocket. Your goal had been simple: get to Hogsmeade unseen. But now, crouched near a table, you had stumbled upon something far more important.**

There they were. Professor McGonagall. The Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge. Hagrid. They were talking about you. And they were talking about Sirius Black.

"...a mistake, letting James and Lily make him their Secret-Keeper," Professor McGonagall was saying, her voice tight.

Fudge sighed. "He was their best friend. Who would have suspected?"

Your heart began to pound against your ribs. Your father's best friend?

"Not only that," Professor McGonagall continued, and her next sentence made your blood run cold. "Black was your godfather."

A godfather. The word echoed in the dull hum that suddenly filled your ears. You had a godfather, and he was a mass murderer. But the worst was yet to come.

"So Black betrayed them," whispered the tavern owner, Madame Rosmerta.

"Exactly," Fudge confirmed gravely. "Tired of our side, he joined You-Know-Who. He revealed to Voldemort where the Potters were hiding. Without Black's betrayal, Voldemort would never have found them."

A cold that had nothing to do with the weather seized you, spreading from your stomach to every corner of your body. The truth didn't dawn on you; it fell on you like a gravestone. He hadn't just killed Peter Pettigrew and all those Muggles. He had handed your parents over. It was his fault they were dead.

You don't know how you got out of there. The rest of Hogsmeade, with its cheerful shops and students laughing in the snow, seemed like a fake and cruel stage set. All you could feel was a burning hatred, a poison filling you from the inside, promising revenge.

You found Ron and Hermione near the candy shop. They were laughing, their cheeks pink from the cold, their arms loaded with bags.

You tried to compose yourself, but the cheerful sight of Ron and Hermione, laden with sweets and rosy-cheeked from the cold, made it difficult.

”You!" Ron exclaimed, his voice bubbling with unadulterated excitement. "Where have you been? Look at everything we bought for you!"

His enthusiasm was so genuine, so untainted by the darkness you'd just encountered, that a tiny, almost imperceptible warmth flickered within the icy grip around your heart.