In Northwest London, a house suddenly shimmered into existence between two other townhouses. Adam stared at the sight, then turned to Shirley with a look of utter confusion.
"This house is under a Fidelius Charm," he whispered, gesturing toward the front door. "Not only would the Muggles in numbers 11 and 13 not be able to see it, but even other witches and wizards would have a hard time spotting it."
"So how did Corinna know where to find the old Black family home?"
Before Shirley could answer, Tina reached out and ruffled Adam's unruly hair, her expression a little stern.
"You need to show your elders more respect. Don't call them by their first name."
Adam wanted to say something, but he stopped himself. He figured if she knew Corinna was a Death Eater, she'd probably use much harsher words than he would.
Shirley was gazing at the decrepit house, her voice growing soft as she drifted back to her memories from two years ago.
"Aunt Irina didn't know the exact location either. She just deduced the general area from the few letters my mother had sent before she died. We looked all over the place, and when we got here, I recognized the house at once."
She led them to the dark, scarred front door, with its handle shaped like a coiled silver snake. There was no keyhole or letterbox, just a strange-looking doorbell.
"Wait..." Tina's brow furrowed, and she stopped Shirley from ringing the bell. "These are all signs of dark magic. Many defensive spells were once cast on this door, but they've all been violently broken. It suggests someone may have broken in a long time ago."
Adam couldn't see any of the "scars" Tina was talking about, but as an Auror with decades of experience, she must have had her reasons.
"It should be safe inside, right?" Shirley asked, her voice uncertain as she remembered her previous visit.
"Never underestimate a Dark wizard's methods," Tina warned. "Especially with curses placed on objects. Many wizards are taken down by accidentally touching a cursed item."
She cautiously pulled out a dull crystal—a tool for detecting dark magic. After a careful inspection of the door, she finally relaxed, but she was the one who pressed the doorbell for Shirley.
"Who is it!?" a wary woman's voice demanded from behind the door, haughty and imperious.
"It's me, Grandma Walburga," Shirley responded.
"Shirley? Is that you? You've finally come back to see me! Kreacher! Kreacher! Go and open the door for Shirley!" The woman's voice suddenly became shrill and excited.
Another man's voice piped up. "So that's the last remaining blood of the Black family? I must get a good look..." He paused, sounding utterly disgusted. "I'll be honest, Walburga, you really should tidy up. The heir of the Black family must maintain a pure-blood elegance. If the other place weren't so noisy, I'd hate to be in the same portrait as you..."
"Oh, never mind. It's rare to have a few lucid days, so I won't say anything more to spoil it."
Just then, the heavy black door began to move. Adam distinctly heard a series of metallic clanks, like dozens of chains sliding against each other. It reminded him of the vaults at Gringotts, which seemed to use a similar mechanism.
A pair of strange, misty gray eyes peered out from behind the door. They were bloodshot, above a drooping nose on a face of sagging skin, and the creature was wrapped in a filthy, tattered cloth. It was the ugliest house-elf Adam had ever seen, with tufts of white hair growing out of its enormous bat-like ears. It was nothing like the house-elves in the Hogwarts kitchens. And it certainly couldn't compare to the stylish house-elf who once helped Nicolas Flamel with his dirigible.
"Mistress Shirley! To have you back..." Kreacher bowed deeply to Shirley, but his voice suddenly turned hard as he eyed Adam and Tina with suspicion. He looked as if he feared they were about to steal something from this gloomy, crumbling old house.
"This is Adam, my best friend..." Shirley, though a little afraid of the crazed house-elf, tried her best to sound calm as she introduced Adam and Tina.
Kreacher immediately adopted a more respectful demeanor and led them inside. A rustling sound echoed from the walls. Old gas lamps flickered on, illuminating a dark, moldy entryway with peeling wallpaper and a worn-out, threadbare rug.
A large snake-shaped chandelier hung from the ceiling. On the wall nearby, a row of shriveled, wrinkled heads were mounted on wooden plaques—the severed heads of house-elves. Behind the entryway, a staircase led to the upper floors.
In the center of the wall, a life-sized portrait of an old witch in a black hat stared intently at Shirley, speechless for a long time. But standing beside her was another familiar face, an old wizard with a goatee who was staring at Adam in disbelief. The two of them glared at each other.
"What are you doing in my house, you boy!?" Phineas snarled.
Adam remained silent, calmly pulling a paintbrush from his small pouch. The moment Phineas saw the brush, he instinctively looked around, then realized what was going on and cackled loudly.
"Ha! Those others aren't here! No one can stand up for you! Shirley, get this boy out of my house!"
Shirley just looked at him with a strange expression. Adam gently shook his paintbrush and said without a hint of politeness, "Even though this isn't Hogwarts, I can draw you a cage. And even if you manage to escape from here, I don't believe you'll never return to the castle."
"When you do, I'll just burn your portrait here and draw an entire armory for the other headmasters in their paintings..."
Phineas sneered, his face cold. "Do you think I'm as foolish as you? The portraits at Hogwarts are protected by the castle! Unless you can tear the whole place down!"
"Is that so?" Adam's tone was still calm. "But I heard Professor Dilys say you have a portrait in this old house as well. Is it protected by magic here too?"
The old wizard's goateed face twitched. He pointed a trembling finger at Adam and shrieked, "This is the house of the Black family! How dare you threaten me here!?"
Adam returned his sneer, then pulled out a small notebook. Phineas's eyelids fluttered. The old witch in the portrait next to him finally came to her senses. Just as she was about to scream, Phineas slammed a hand over her mouth. He looked furious as he said, "Ignore that boy. He's Dumbledore's most trusted student..."
The other portraits on the surrounding walls heard this and immediately closed their eyes.
The room fell into a sudden, complete silence. Shirley and Tina exchanged glances, both of them utterly baffled.
"Well, that's much quieter," Adam said, turning to Shirley. "Did you see any of your father's belongings in your dreams?"
Shirley nodded seriously, her eyes sweeping over the entryway. "I think they were in a room that looked a lot like the Slytherin common room. It was covered in collages of newspaper clippings, and the Black family crest was carved on the headboard. It also had the motto 'Toujours Pur'."
Adam's brow furrowed. He asked again, "Are you sure it wasn't a locket?"
Shirley thought carefully, then said with certainty, "There shouldn't have been. I only saw those things."
Nearby, Kreacher overheard their conversation and began to tremble in terror. It tried to scurry down a narrow hallway behind the entryway, but Adam was quicker.
"Stop it," Adam called to Shirley. "Tell it to stop, not to speak, and not to punish itself. Tell it to follow us and lead us to your father's room." Adam raised his wand, transfiguring a torn piece of carpet on the floor into a solid wall.
Kreacher started to bang its head against the wall, a look of twisted pain on its face. It picked up a rusty dinner knife and began to stab itself, wailing, "The evil boy has bewitched the last of the Black blood! He wants to desecrate my master's memory! Poor Kreacher only wants to—"
Shirley was startled by this sudden scene, her face turning pale. But she quickly composed herself after hearing Adam's voice and repeated his commands. The knife stopped just before it could pierce Kreacher's neck. The elf desperately tried to force its body onto the blade but was unable to go against the command that had been given.
It dropped the knife in despair, its mouth open but unable to speak. It could only glare at Adam with a look of pure hatred and resentment. Reluctantly, it hunched its back and slowly, step by step, shuffled toward the stairs.
"What on earth is going on?" Tina asked, her brow furrowed with concern. She was holding her wand tightly.
As they followed Kreacher up the stairs, Adam began to explain everything to Tina. When Tina heard that Corinna was a Death Eater and that Shirley's father was also a Death Eater, her face went blank. The color drained from her cheeks, and her lips became a thin line. She looked at the young witch with a pang of sorrow.
As they reached the fifth floor, Kreacher suddenly stopped dead. A grandfather clock nearby abruptly spewed out a dozen screws.
Tina quickly waved her wand, trying to cast a Shield Charm on Adam, who was walking in front. But Adam was faster. He threw a handful of Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans, which instantly turned into a metal plate, deflecting the screws. He then kicked the grandfather clock over.
Adam's gaze was dangerous as he stared at Kreacher, an orange glow coalescing at the tip of his wand, and the air around them grew hot. He spoke each word with deliberate force.
"If you never want Regulus's name to be cleared, then try something like that again."
Shirley nervously ran over to Adam, checking him over to make sure he wasn't hurt, and let out a sigh of relief. As she was about to speak, she noticed a faint light emanating from his palm and saw his reddish pupils narrow slightly.
Adam raised his hand, pointing his ring toward the rooms along the corridor, and the soft, silver light on the ring's face pulsed.