"How long has it been since you last slept?" Sirius stared at Wes Elwin's bloodshot eyes and messy hair, remarking sarcastically, "You don't look much better than I did right after breaking out."
Wes ignored him, shoved Sirius aside, and walked straight into the Black family home.
The first thing that came into view after stepping inside was the dimly lit hall. The furniture looked ancient, and the sofas and tables were covered in a thick layer of dust, giving off a musty stench from years of neglect.
"Do you really not bother cleaning this place at all?" Wes pinched his nose, glancing around the dusty, mildew-ridden room.
Sirius shrugged indifferently. "No need. This place is still better than Azkaban. At least there aren't Dementors here."
Wes shook his head helplessly at Sirius's attitude. "Scourgify." With just a whisper of the incantation, the entire living room immediately became spotless. The dust and mildew disappeared, and the furniture gleamed once more.
Even though Sirius had seen Wes cast magic many times, he was still shaken by the depth of his magical skill.
[Probably only Dumbledore could cast spells so casually without a wand.]
Before Wes could even reach the stairs, a sharp voice called out from the corridor: "The disgraceful brat brought outsiders back home. If the mistress knew, how heartbroken she would be…"
From the shadows emerged a very old house-elf, muttering curses nonstop. Its skin sagged in excess folds over its frail frame, giving it an unhealthy, withered look.
"Shut up, Kreacher! Back to your room!" Sirius roared. "Don't you dare come out without my orders!"
Kreacher shuffled off reluctantly, still mumbling, "Sirius is a traitor to the family. Only Master Regulus has the right to inherit the noble name of Black…"
"I said, shut up!" Sirius snapped.
Kreacher drooped his head and fell silent, though his lips still moved as he mouthed curses without sound.
But Wes hadn't come to the Black family home just to pass the time. [The Slytherin locket should be in Kreacher's hands.]
The house was decorated with portraits of Black family ancestors, each of which could speak, move, and meddle in family affairs. Sirius, long annoyed by them, had covered the frames with black cloth before guiding Wes into a room he had already prepared.
The moment Wes pushed the door open, he was greeted by shelves upon shelves of books.
"These were all meant to be thrown away," Sirius said.
Expelled from his home at a young age due to clashing beliefs, Sirius had lived with the Potters ever since. He held no fondness for the Black family, nor any attachment to their possessions.
"You really are a wastrel," Wes teased. For once, Kreacher's insult seemed entirely accurate.
Sirius shrugged again, unconcerned. "You should rest first. All these books are yours now, no need to rush through them."
With that, Sirius left the room. He had no desire to spend time with a "bookworm" like Wes.
Wes truly was exhausted. Only after a full day of rest did he recover his energy.
Over the following days, the Weasley family, Moody, and several other members of the Order of the Phoenix gradually arrived at the Black family home.
They were all people Dumbledore trusted—elite wizards, even though Voldemort's true body had already been destroyed. The Death Eaters still lurked in the shadows, waiting for their chance to strike.
What made things even more troublesome was that Voldemort had created far too many Horcruxes, making the plan to destroy him increasingly complicated and difficult.
Arthur Weasley entered the living room with heavy news.
"I heard Fudge is preparing to move against Dumbledore."
"Is he out of his mind?" Sirius said in disbelief.
Moody gave a cold snort, as if he had expected this all along. "I knew this day would come."
Everyone began speaking at once, criticizing Fudge.
"What matters now is destroying the remaining Horcruxes. Everything else can wait," Moody said harshly, leaning on his staff. "As for taking down Dumbledore, Fudge doesn't have that kind of ability."
But the truth was, they all underestimated Fudge. After all, he was the Minister of Magic, wielding vast power and resources.
Moreover, the mysterious deaths of Karkaroff and Barty Crouch at Hogwarts had made many people start to question Dumbledore. Fudge deliberately convened a hearing, pointing the finger directly at him and insisting he should be held responsible for both deaths.
Dumbledore had no choice but to attend the hearing, where he left Fudge speechless.
He carefully explained the sequence of events and provided sufficient evidence to prove that he bore no fault.
However, Fudge was not satisfied. He still dispatched his trusted men to station themselves at Hogwarts, investigating the deaths of Karkaroff and Barty Crouch.
Of course, Dumbledore did not agree easily, but as Minister of Magic, Fudge did have the legitimate authority to carry out the investigation.
Just as Fudge and his supporters were celebrating their partial victory from the hearing, something completely unexpected happened.
The Dementors guarding Azkaban suddenly abandoned their posts and vanished. All the prisoners escaped.
Fudge collapsed into his chair, stricken. "It's over… everything is over…"
Bad news travels fast. The mass breakout at Azkaban spread rapidly throughout the wizarding world, throwing everyone into panic.
Even Wes hadn't anticipated things would escalate this far.
A few days later, Lucius Malfoy secretly sent word, requesting an immediate meeting with Wes at the Leaky Cauldron.
Wes disguised himself simply, putting on a hat and a pair of glasses, then made his way to the Leaky Cauldron. Lucius, as always, wore a black cloak, dressing in a deliberately inconspicuous manner.
Since the prison break, violent attacks had been occurring every day. The endless torment in Azkaban had made the escaped prisoners more brutal and deranged than ever.
As a result, Diagon Alley had become eerily empty. The Leaky Cauldron, once bustling with noise, was now dimly lit and sparsely populated. The only patrons left were hardened drunkards with nowhere else to go.
Wes entered the tavern and swept his gaze around. He quickly spotted Lucius sitting in a shadowy corner.
He walked straight over, sat down opposite him, and—out of caution—cast several protective spells.
°°°
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