It takes a moment for Sirius to remember to walk again, so shaken is he by the news that his godson dated this man's wife. Intellectually, he's well aware that Harry is seventeen years old (nearly eighteen now) but he still has such a difficult time differentiating him from the bubbly, pudgy, dribbly-mouthed little infant he remembers so well.
He feels a bit dazed following Newt further down the corridor, listening as they stop outside a door.
"An island," he echoes because he does think he's heard mention of such a thing before. It's yet another aspect of this place he doesn't understand, a different sort of magic. And he's not sure he'd ever heard mention of dinosaurs, but that hardly seems to matter in the wake of learning this.
"He's my godson," Sirius finally manages, feeling as though he needs to give some reason for his strange state. "Harry is. Merlin, it's strange enough accepting he's suddenly seventeen years old." He frowns then, looking at Newt more carefully. "And you said he doesn't remember a thing?"
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He feels a bit dazed following Newt further down the corridor, listening as they stop outside a door.
"An island," he echoes because he does think he's heard mention of such a thing before. It's yet another aspect of this place he doesn't understand, a different sort of magic. And he's not sure he'd ever heard mention of dinosaurs, but that hardly seems to matter in the wake of learning this.
"He's my godson," Sirius finally manages, feeling as though he needs to give some reason for his strange state. "Harry is. Merlin, it's strange enough accepting he's suddenly seventeen years old." He frowns then, looking at Newt more carefully. "And you said he doesn't remember a thing?"