Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Harry Potter, #3)

by J.K. Rowling

I’m your godfather.” “Yeah, I knew that,” said Harry. “Well . . . your parents appointed me your guardian,” said Sirius stiffly. “If anything happened to them . . .” Harry waited. Did Sirius mean what he thought he meant? “I’ll understand, of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle,” said Sirius. “But . . . well . . . think about it. Once my name’s cleared . . . if you wanted a . . . a different home . . .” Some sort of explosion took place in the pit of Harry’s stomach. “What — live with you?” he said, accidentally cracking his head on a bit of rock protruding from the ceiling. “Leave the Dursleys?” “Of course, I thought you wouldn’t want to,” said Sirius quickly. “I understand, I just thought I’d —” “Are you insane?” said Harry, his voice easily as croaky as Sirius’s. “Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! Have you got a house? When can I move in?” Sirius turned right around to look at him; Snape’s head was scraping the ceiling but Sirius didn’t seem to care. “You want to?” he said. “You mean it?” “Yeah, I mean it!” said Harry. Sirius’s gaunt face broke into the first true smile Harry had seen upon it. The

Wow, I wasn’t expecting this