Hogwarts: Dumbledore reigned over the wizarding world.

Chapter 329 Vaughn: Phineas, you don't want the Black family line to die out, do you?

However, Vaughn, who has mastered several original spells since his trip to North America, is no longer so stingy.

Therefore, upon hearing Dumbledore's question, he replied, "The Ravenclaw crown!"

"The Room of Requirement"

Dumbledore's deep blue eyes, behind his crescent-shaped spectacles, widened slightly.

At the end of last semester, he made a deal with Vaughn, who told him that Ravenclaw's tiara was hidden in the Room of Requirement.

But he hasn't been able to find it for the past few months.

Because the Room of Requirement, although it has only one entrance, has many different rooms; it is a spatial magic, not a true "wish-granting" space.

Especially the room where the crowns are kept.

The Hogwarts storeroom!

It holds the "lost items" of Hogwarts' professors and young wizards over thousands of years; to put it bluntly, it's garbage.

In fact, Dumbledore has searched the area many times since receiving the intelligence.

Unfortunately, there were no results.

A thousand years is a very long time. The amount of garbage piled up in the storage room is astronomical. It fills every gap in that huge room like a small mountain.

Finding a tiny, enchanted crown that can't be summoned by the Summoning Charm among countless pieces of trash—even Rowena Ravenclaw's resurrection would struggle to achieve that!

Seeing Dumbledore's beard trembling and looking like he had a headache, Vaughn felt a surge of pleasure and took a sip of tea.

The long-lost aroma of green tea lingered on his lips and teeth, a fragrance he hadn't tasted in over a decade. With his mood becoming increasingly cheerful, Vaughn didn't just watch the jokes unfold.

After Dumbledore had been agonizing over it for a while, he said, "There's a clever way. You can take Harry with you—Horde objects are connected. Otherwise, Tom wouldn't have thrown the tiara into it back then. He wouldn't have carelessly discarded a Horde made from such a valuable antique."

Dumbledore, who was looking troubled, suddenly brightened his blue eyes, then narrowed them slightly: "No wonder last semester when I asked you to teach Harry Occlumency, you chose the Room of Requirement as the learning location—"

""

Vaughn sipped his tea. "You guessed right, I took Harry to look for him, but perhaps his connection with Tom wasn't strong enough. Anyway, I didn't find him, and I'm not kidding you about that."

Vaughn had one more guess he didn't mention.

Or perhaps, something believes the crown is not yet ready to be unveiled—

Dumbledore had also thought of this, but he didn't say anything. The topic of fate was too troubling, and at the moment, thinking about it would be futile.

After a moment's thought, he nodded: "I'll take Harry to try it later."

Vaughn cautioned, "You'd better find a suitable excuse. To get Harry to connect with the Horcruxes, we'll definitely have to lift Occlumency. Right now, we don't know Tom's state, so we need to prevent him from receiving Harry's true thoughts."

"I will, hmm—maybe I should put the Mirror of Erised in there?"

"————You're so vicious."

"Thank you for the compliment, child," Dumbledore said, winking.

Vaughn and Dumbledore talked for a long time about Voldemort's goals and Ravenclaw's crown. Vaughn didn't leave the headmaster's office until lunchtime.

Dumbledore wasn't with him, so he couldn't show up yet. On the one hand, showing up too quickly would alert the enemy and could potentially expose Snape.

On the other hand, he also had to keep an eye on the ongoing negotiations in the Eastern Continent.

According to Lao Deng, the negotiations over there have been progressing very quickly recently. For some reason, the Eastern Qi practitioners have suddenly become much more active, seemingly supporting the faction that is in contact with the international community, and are rapidly suppressing the voices of the opposition and reaching a consensus.

The East has been out of touch with the international community for too long, and no one knows what the situation is like inside. Fudge is a political animal who has no bottom line when it comes to political achievements, so Dumbledore doesn't dare to completely entrust the negotiations to him and has to keep an eye on the other side.

However, Vaughn, who most wanted to establish a cooperative relationship with the East, did not have the energy to pay attention to this at the moment.

After leaving the principal's office, he did not go to the auditorium for a meal. Instead, he took out some spare bread from his bag and ate a quick bite before walking into a secret passage on the fourth floor of the main tower.

He walked down the dark, narrow secret passage for an unknown amount of time until he came to a large, open, circular hall.

The hall was very damp, and the thick walls were covered with wet dew. Even without windows, one could tell that it had probably sunk deep into the bottom of Black Lake.

The entire space was completely empty except for a picture frame covered in rust, which stood on the wall opposite the exit of the secret passage, where dew dripped down.

A glowing orb floated above his head as Vaughn walked to the picture frame and gently tapped it with his wand.

In a moment, the rusted canvas, covered in stains, faded away as if time had reversed, and a half-length portrait gradually emerged.

The portrait depicts a male wizard wearing a silver-green Slytherin robe, with a goatee and a full head of black hair.

When the stains were completely removed, the still-standing image of the male witch suddenly blinked its dark eyes, its pupils darting around, looking quite cunning and treacherous.

Upon seeing Vaughn, his eyes lit up with surprise, and he exclaimed in a high-pitched voice, "Oh dear, esteemed Mr. Weasley, you've come here because you've decided to agree to go and rescue your cousin?"

The "cousin" Vaughn mentioned by Phineas Black is naturally Sirius Black.

Arthur's mother, who is also Vaughn's grandmother, is Cedric Black, who is Sirius's great-aunt.

Of course, if you really think about it, the relationship is actually quite distant now, and Cedric has already been expelled from the Black family.

Phineas Black is now trying to establish a connection, but he clearly doesn't genuinely believe they are relatives. He simply wants to use that tiny, insignificant blood tie to get Vaughn to help continue the Black family line!

Vaughn understood this, which is why he hadn't paid much attention to the other party before.

Even today!

The faint glow of the Glowing Charm cast a deep shadow on Vaughn's face beneath his hood, obscuring his expression. Only his slow, deliberate voice could be heard as he spoke before the painting: "To save him, I will, but you must offer something, Phineas!"

"What do you want in return?"

"It's very simple. For example, fulfill your promise ahead of schedule. Didn't you say you were willing to pay any price to save Sirius? The Black family's magic, collections, wealth—"

Upon hearing his request, Phineas Black, who had just moments before been shrill and feigning surprise and pleading, suddenly erupted in fury on screen: "You're dreaming!"

"Oh? You want to back out?"

"I haven't gone back on my word. No, this isn't the condition we agreed on. My request is that you rescue Sirius Black before..."

Vaughn waved his hand, interrupting his rebuke: "That's just your opinion; I never agreed to that."

"You should know exactly what crime Sirius Black committed. He used magic in front of almost half a street of Muggles, killing 12 people. Even among Death Eaters, this is considered extremely heinous, making him a prime target for Azkaban's investigation—"

"You think saving such a ruthless villain is so simple?"

"I----"

Phineas Black's lips trembled. "He—he just killed some Muggles—"

"Just some Muggles? Ha, go tell those words to Wizengamor yourself and see if those archmages will agree with your sophistry, or be so furious that they'll add more time to Sirius's sentence?"

Upon hearing this, Phineas Black on the canvas smoothly composed himself, his attitude softening once more: "Alright, alright, I know it's difficult to save him. Sirius's biggest mistake was not killing wizards, but killing a bunch of useless pets pampered by hypocrites—tell me, what do you really want?"

"I want to go into the Blake family home!"

"Vaughn said calmly."

Phineas Blaker stared intently at Vaughn, as if trying to see through his mind.

Unfortunately, he is no longer the headmaster of Hogwarts 100 years ago; his body has long since died, and his soul has gone to another world.

All that remains here is a useless portrait.

After a moment, seemingly realizing his own predicament and leverage, the wizard in the painting slowly sighed and lowered his head.

London.

This most prosperous city in all of England, along with the Scottish Highlands, was submerged in the snow and wind blowing from the North Sea.

-

In the northwest of the city, there is a completely different appearance from the prosperity of the central area and the chaos and crampedness of the eastern area.

The road was wide, without any traffic or crowds. Rows of red-brick apartments lined both sides of the road, so quiet that even the snow seemed to soften.

At one point, a strong wind swept across the snow-covered road, and snowflakes flew up in large numbers.

Several Muggles passing by screamed, as if urged by something, and instinctively ran away.

After they had all left, a strange sphere rapidly expanded in mid-air, from which a gale howled, and out emerged Vaughn, dressed in a black coat over a silver-green robe.

He floated down lightly, like a piece of paper, and glanced around before noticing the nearby road signs.

"There are still about 100 yards left —"

A faint sound came from his chest. It was a sticker about six inches in size. The portrait originally belonged to another wizard, but now that unfortunate wizard's portrait had been knocked unconscious, tied up, and thrown into a corner. The not-so-fine frame had been taken over by Phineas Black.

He peeked out furtively, scanning the unfamiliar yet familiar street just like Vaughn: "I haven't been here for over 60 years, and it's still the same as before. I must say, while Muggles may be despicable and stupid, they do a good job of respecting tradition."

Looking around at the apartments—which could be described as classically styled, but were actually riddled with signs of age—Vaughn smiled and said, "Is it possible that the Muggle government, after its industrial transformation, simply doesn't have the money for renovations?"

With one hand resting on the edge of the sticker, Phineas Black looked up at Vaughn. From this angle, only his nostrils were visible, but the gloomy-faced wizard in the painting didn't seem to care. His goatee trembled as he lamented, "Weasley, you've been completely led astray by that little bastard Dumbledore. You're the youngest Potions Master I've ever seen, the most magically gifted wizard. You shouldn't be wasting your attention on Muggles."

"Those filthy maggots, all they can do is scream and murder. Merlin, poor old Black, who witnessed the Muggle wars firsthand before his death, the human vocabulary simply cannot adequately describe their brutality—"

Old Black recounted his experiences before his death, attempting to prove that there was a reason why he, and many purebloods, looked down on Muggles.

Fortunately, despite his chatter, he didn't forget to give directions.

Vaughn followed the directions given to him along the snow-covered road for most of the street, and finally arrived at his destination—a crack in the wall!

The wall gap is flanked by Muggle apartments, number 13 on the left and number 11 on the right. On this quiet, snowy day, you can see the lights on in the Muggle homes, and the aroma of food wafts out.

"Ha, more than 60 years have passed, and these stupid Muggles still haven't noticed anything amiss."

Finally stopping his rambling, old Black exclaimed triumphantly, "They were fooled like idiots. Where did Number 12 go? Nobody cares because the ancestral home was enchanted a long time ago, making Muggles ignore Number 12's existence. When I was young, my favorite game was to cast a spell to temporarily break the spell and then enjoy the bewildered, surprised, and terrified expressions on those Muggles' faces."

"They thought they had seen a ghost, and many Muggles would be so scared that they would move away. Every time one left, I would throw a celebration party. This fine tradition was inherited by my sons and by my grandson Orion, until..."

Old Blake's expression suddenly fell.

Until Sirius and the Regulus brothers.

In the eyes of a true Black, Sirius Black, a rebellious, unruly traitor who opposed the pure-blood ideals, was clearly a disgrace among disgrace.

As for Sirius's brother Regulus—

"He's a coward!"

Old Black groaned against Vaughn's chest, "Undeniably, he's a good boy. He listens to Orion and Walbuga, unlike his scoundrel brother. He embraces the pure-blood ideal and wants to realize the dream of wizards no longer having to hide, which is all good."

"But he shouldn't have been so naive. He trusted Voldemort—and worst of all, this weak and stupid guy, when he realized that Voldemort couldn't fulfill his ideals, actually tried to leave the Death Eaters—Merlin! Did he think the Death Eaters were a Muggle company, where he could just hand in his resignation and walk away?"

Phineas Black launched into a tirade, but there was little anger in his curses, only deep sorrow.

In any case, he was his great-grandson, an innocent child who neither died gloriously nor infamously, but rather remained unknown.

Even the circumstances surrounding his death remained inconsistent during the postwar investigation.

Some say he was killed by Voldemort himself for trying to break away from the Death Eaters, while others say he disappeared, possibly killed by an Auror by mistake, or purged by a Death Eater who was "resentful of his attempt to betray his master."

In short, Regulus Black disappeared suddenly one day in 1979, and given the various possibilities mentioned above, neither the Ministry of Magic nor the former Death Eaters who escaped trial wanted to investigate any further.

He became an anonymous person!

Hearing Phineas Black's wails, Vaughn, whose eyes had been gleaming as he observed the crack in the wall in front of him, suddenly said, "Phineas, perhaps Regulus is braver than you think."

"Where's your courage? Do you even dare to submit your resignation to the mysterious man?" Phineas mocked.

He glanced at him, then said, too lazy to say more, "You'll understand later. Alright, stop wasting your energy crying. We've arrived at the Black family home. It's time to keep your promise. How do we open this place?"

As he spoke, a glint of inspiration flashed in Vaughn's eyes.

In his eyes, the seemingly ordinary crack in the wall was like a bomb. He could see that in that narrow space, there was a building hidden by a spatial spell.

The building was enveloped by layers upon layers of spells, which were interconnected and mixed with magical auras, creating a dazzling and colorful spectacle that, in reality, represented terrifying power.

If an intruder rushes in and there is no unique way to break the curse, it could immediately trigger a chain reaction.

"Uh, just a moment—"

Phineas, the figure on Vaughn's chest sticker, scratched his face. "I don't have the ability to break the spell—Honorable Weasley, I'm not lying to you. This ancestral home passed to my grandson Arcturus III after my death, and after Arcturus died, it passed to Orion and Volbuga. Many of the spells were cast by them."

"But don't worry, I have a way to get you in directly. Please wait for me a moment."

With that, he left the sticker.

A few minutes later, he returned to the sticker, roaring at the person behind him, "—Even if I die, I am still the master of this place. Sirius Black will inherit the house, not this ugly thing like you!"

"If you and Orion had raised the children properly, I wouldn't be in this situation today. It's all your fault!"

""

After he finished cursing, he took a deep breath and explained to Vaughn, "There's a crazy woman in the house, it's Walbuga. She died alone, so you don't have to deal with her for a while—I've called Kreacher to pick you up. He's a house-elf, and he'll take you inside."

As soon as he finished speaking, the air crackled and a small figure popped out.

It was a very old house-elf, wearing only a tattered cloth around its waist, the folds of skin resembling layers of clothing.

As soon as it appeared, its large, white-furred, bat-like ears twitched warily, and its large nose twitched forcefully, as if it were trying to distinguish scents.

Then he spoke: "—It's Weasley! Traitor Weasley!"

The voice wasn't the high-pitched sound of a normal elf; instead, it was deep and hoarse, like that of a bullfrog.

Old Black, depicted on Vaughn's chest sticker, looked embarrassed: "Kreacher, damn it, what did I tell you? Vaughn Weasley is different! He's a Slytherin, just like Regulus!"

Upon hearing Regulus's name, Kreacher raised his bald head, his cloudy, bloodshot eyes reflecting Vaughn's image.

He scrutinized Vaughn's cloak and robes, then bowed slightly. "Well, Mr. Weasley, you're a different story. Mr. Phineas Black has decided that old Kreacher should take you to the ancestral home—a terrible decision, but old Kreacher has no choice but to obey."