"Sirius Black! You useless brat, get out here!"
Phineas Nigellus Black's furious shout echoed through Number 12, Grimmauld Place.
His voice was so loud it drowned out even Mrs. Black's shrieking, making the entire house tremble.
"If you're a man, don't hide like a coward!" he continued roaring from within his portrait. "What kind of Gryffindor are you, skulking like this? Is this what you learned at Hogwarts?"
But no matter how loudly he yelled, forming a 360° surround sound effect, Sirius did not appear before him. Not even the house-elf Kreacher showed up in response.
Phineas, panting heavily, felt his anger simmering once more. But before he could erupt again, he heard the creak of the front door opening, followed by the sound of bickering voices.
"Are you out of your mind, Kreacher?" Sirius's voice roared even louder than Phineas's. "It's just some tequila and butterbeer for everyone to drink. Can't you find that in any pub? Why did you trick me into going to that hellhole? Tell me, what is it you're after?"
Phineas, who had been about to launch into another tirade against his descendant, paused, his curiosity piqued. He quieted down to listen.
"Kreacher is out of his mind! As long as Master Sirius remains unmarried, Kreacher will remain heartbroken!" the house-elf screeched. "Master Sirius is a detestable scoundrel, only fit to swim in the gutters! Kreacher should have refused to serve him. But Master Sirius is the last of the Black family. Kreacher must ensure he meets some young ladies!"
"If my mistress knew the Black family ended with Kreacher's failure, with the line dying out because of this detestable master, how furious she would be! Oh, what would Kreacher's past masters say if they knew?"
Phineas nodded in agreement. Though he didn't particularly like this great-grandson of his, with the family reduced to just one member, he felt compelled to tolerate him.
"Just thinking about it fills Kreacher with shame! If not for the kind young lady who enlightened Kreacher, he would still be wandering aimlessly! If Kreacher cannot see Master Sirius produce an heir for the Black family, even in death, Kreacher's soul will not rest. Even in the afterlife, he would be too ashamed to face his mother and grandmother!"
Hearing this, Phineas couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration for the loyal house-elf.
"Well said, Kreacher! Good job!" he shouted. "Sirius, let me tell you, ignoring the wisdom of your elders will only lead to regret!"
Hearing the commotion, Sirius stormed into the bedroom where the portrait was hung and punched the frame.
He truly couldn't understand why this ancestor, who usually never returned home and whose portrait was often empty, had suddenly decided to launch a verbal assault on him.
"That's impossible," Sirius said coldly, the rebellious and stubborn nature of the Black lineage surfacing once more. "I won't get married. Even if I die and rot in my grave, I won't get married."
"You—you—" Phineas pointed a trembling finger at him, looking as though he might die of rage all over again.
He panted heavily for a while but gradually calmed down. Then, he scolded Sirius harshly:
"Fine, even if you do get married and have children, you don't seem like someone who could be a good father. You don't even know what your godson—that Potter boy—has been going through at school. Yet you claim to love him. You haven't cared about his life at Hogwarts at all. Careless, reckless..."
"What?" Sirius jumped in shock. The mention of "Harry" instantly triggered his sensitivity. He dashed upstairs at lightning speed, searching for the letters from his godson.
Phineas grew angrier as he spoke, a sense of frustration and disappointment in his descendants consuming him:
"You useless brat! You managed to join Dumbledore's side, but you've accomplished nothing. Is Voldemort dead? No. Have the Death Eaters been imprisoned? No. Has Umbridge been driven out of the school? No. You've been out of Azkaban for years, and have you made any effort? No, you're just lounging around, drinking."
His anger was so intense that even Mrs. Black, who had pulled back her curtains to start yelling, closed her mouth, not daring to challenge his authority.
"No ambition whatsoever. You only act when Dumbledore tells you to. Are you a toad in winter, only moving when poked?"
"Why don't you take some initiative? If you had used your own drive to oust Umbridge from the school, your ancestor wouldn't have been overshadowed by a petty person! My influence dropped from first to second place! The reputation and prestige of the Black family have been utterly destroyed by you, you ungrateful, forgetful brat!"
Sirius came bounding downstairs, waving Harry's handwritten letter, unwilling to let anyone question his love for his godson. He punched the portrait again.
"Shut up! What are you insinuating? Harry told me he's doing well at school! He's safe and happy!"
"You don't deserve to be my ancestor! Anyway, I've already been disowned by that old hag. One day, I'm going to burn your portrait—"
Phineas clutched his now-swollen left cheek, his voice muffled by pain:
"Ungrateful scoundrel! You don't deserve to be my descendant! Your godson's school life is so 'safe' that he's being treated like a Muggle, and you, this fool, still believe those censored letters convey the truth! How could the Black family produce someone as stupid as you—"
Sirius's eyes widened. From his ancestor's words, he discerned that Phineas was trying to convey some critical information.
This realization cooled his angered mind. After a moment of calm, he chose to assess the situation.
So he roughly tore a piece of bed curtain to wipe the stains off the portrait frame and said in a stiff tone:
"I'm sorry, Ancestor. You are my dear ancestor. I will hang your portrait in the highest place in the bedroom. Now, what exactly is happening at the school?"
Still fuming, Phineas clutched his bruised cheek and let out a cold snort:
"Dolores Umbridge, the so-called Senior Undersecretary of the Ministry of Magic, is taking advantage of Dumbledore's absence to scheme her way into the Headmaster's position and impose a reign of terror..."
He rambled on about the events at the school, informing Sirius:
"She's already expelled that brat Dumbledore took in, and the next to be expelled might very well be your Potter boy. In short, anything and anyone connected to Dumbledore won't end well..."
At the mention of Jane Yu, Phineas couldn't help but recall the time she had pushed him to his breaking point. He immediately began trying to salvage his dignity:
"That little brat, if she hadn't begged me on her knees to tell you this, I wouldn't have said a word to a useless scoundrel like you—ouch! You ungrateful descendant!"
Hearing Jane Yu being belittled, Sirius punched the portrait again, causing Phineas's right cheek to swell up as well. His words became slurred as he cursed:
"You piece of trash! Get to work! Drive Umbridge out and restore your ancestor's reputation! Make sure my role in this is prominently featured in the school history!"
Phineas disappeared from the portrait, muttering curses, seemingly unwilling to see his great-grandson again anytime soon.
...
Upon learning about his godson's suffering and Jane Yu's expulsion, Sirius was as agitated as a cat on a hot tin roof.
He wanted nothing more than to storm into Hogwarts and pin Umbridge down in her office.
Fortunately, Mrs. Weasley and Lupin arrived in time to prevent Sirius from committing a murder and returning to Azkaban.
"What's this I hear, Sirius? You're refusing to go on blind dates—what happened to your face?"
The two stared in shock at Sirius's handsome face, now flushed with anger, and listened as he shared the unfortunate news about the children.
"My children... Yu and Harry..." Mrs. Weasley's face turned pale as she wiped away her tear-streaked cheeks. "Merlin, what have they been through? They only tell us the good news and keep the bad news to themselves. Or maybe they can't even report the bad news?"
When it came to her children, the mother experienced a brief emotional breakdown:
"If it weren't for Yu's cleverness in using the portrait to relay information, I would have thought they were safe and happy at school—Merlin, she even had to kneel and beg Headmaster Black—what kind of torment has she endured?"
"I don't understand why Harry hasn't told me about this either," Sirius said, frustrated, running his hands through his hair. "I gave him a two-way mirror, but he never uses it. Could it have been confiscated by Umbridge?"
He leaped off the couch, ready to rush out the door:
"I'm going to submit a story to the Daily Prophet! Expose Umbridge's atrocities at the school."
Mrs. Weasley and Lupin firmly pressed Sirius back onto the couch, pinning him down:
"Calm down! That newspaper is under Fudge's control. Everyone thinks the school has improved under Umbridge's leadership. Your story won't get published, and even if it does, no one will believe it!"
"Then what should we do?" Sirius, desperate, leaned back on the couch. "I'm really going to lose it!"
"I have an idea," said Remus Lupin mysteriously, his cunning honed by years of navigating workplace politics. "Have you ever heard of 'killing with kindness'?"
Mrs. Weasley and Sirius looked at him in confusion.
They couldn't shake the feeling that this Remus Lupin... had turned a bit sly after all his time in the workforce.
Reflecting on his own struggles with workplace expectations, Lupin couldn't help but shed a tear for himself:
"Last month, I exceeded my KPI. This month, they raised the bar. Last month, I was employee of the month. This month, I had to voluntarily extend my working hours. I feel like I've been completely set up. My colleagues say the company can't function without me, praising me to the skies. Meanwhile, they nearly stole all my tasks while I was busy with Order of the Phoenix work. Now they think I'm slacking off..."
Dejected and disillusioned, he shared his insights:
"Umbridge is no different. If we praise her to the point of making her lose her head, pushing her to overreach... the harder she tries to succeed, the harder she'll fall in the end."
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