He clearly remembered leaving the thirteen-year-old and his little group of friends behind on the trail.
The kid hadn't gone down easily. He had fought back with a terrifying, reckless intensity. It was the exact brand of stubbornness Sirius had learned to recognize in the boy who eventually caused massive, world-altering problems, for better or worse, depending entirely on which side of the battlefield you stood.
"Stop playing hero and go back to school," Sirius had told him more or less with different words. He had spoken with the absolute finality of a man who had zero time for negotiations, heavily implying he would personally beat the kid senseless if he followed.
The boy had challenged him anyway. He had proven he wasn't just a nuisance; he was genuinely dangerous.
But Sirius was an elite. He had crushed the kid's resistance, turned his back, and continued his journey to get the stuff needed to recover the statue of his wife alone.
