Chapter 243: Home Service: Elevator Installation
Finally, the train pulled into the station, and they stepped out onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters at King's Cross.
Among the crowd, a few figures walked with purpose, yet no one seemed to notice them. People simply and instinctively stepped aside to avoid them.
There were six of them: Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Grindelwald, Lupin, Lockhart, and Percy Weasley.
After exiting King's Cross, they walked for about 20 minutes before they finally reached their destination. It was located between Number 11 and Number 13, Grimmauld Place. As Dumbledore waved his wand, a house suddenly squeezed out of the narrow space between the two buildings.
This place... Lockhart had been here before.
Number 12, Grimmauld Place—the Black family townhouse!
Although the Statute of Secrecy required all wizards to live in wizarding communities, no matter how powerful the Ministry of Magic had become—even assembling an armed force like the Aurors, which was unprecedented in wizarding history, to enforce this policy—it couldn't force the powerful, ancient pure-blood families to completely abandon their ancestral homes.
So, a very amusing sight had emerged. Most wizards lived in wizarding communities or villages, while these old pure-blood families had Muggles for neighbors.
"Tsk." Grindelwald looked at the dilapidated old house with disgust, seeing the house numbers for 11 and 13 on either side. He scoffed, "It's too deliberate. Anyone could guess there might be a house hidden here."
Then he gestured to the damaged facade of the Number 11 townhouse. "Why not buy this building as well and disguise it so you can live in it as a Muggle? That way it could work together with Number 12."
Dumbledore turned to look at him as if to say, Only you could have thought of that.
The old wizard rolled his eyes, not bothering to say more. He wasn't wrong. At least Lockhart agreed that some of Dumbledore's arrangements were indeed quite clumsy.
But in any case, this would be the future headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.
As Dumbledore stepped up and knocked on the door, a rather disheveled figure opened it.
"Sirius!" Lupin called out excitedly, stepping forward to embrace his old friend.
They were a sight to behold; they hadn't let their past experiences drive a wedge between them. Their brotherhood was truly enviable.
The front of the Black family townhouse opened onto a Muggle street, so no one wanted to linger. They quickly went inside.
Lockhart and Percy walked in last. Lockhart looked up at the clearly decaying house, at the peeling paint on the door, the numerous scratches, and the filthy walls, feeling a sense of poignancy.
The Black family was said to be the most ancient and noble pure-blood family among the Sacred Twenty-Eight, yet it had already fallen into such a state of disrepair.
Stepping over the threshold, they were greeted by a dark entrance hall. The air was damp, filled with the faint smell of mold and a sickly-sweet stench of rot. The wallpaper was peeling off the walls, and the polished, threadbare carpet on the floor was covered in muddy footprints.
The Black family worshipped ill omens, and many of the house's decorations were in the shape of serpents, making the interior look especially sinister.
Dumbledore could tolerate this; his expression was as calm as ever, having grown up in a family on the verge of ruin himself.
Grindelwald, however, could not. He looked with utter distaste at Sirius, who had been living here for quite a while, and finally couldn't hold back. He pulled out his wand and pointed it around the room.
In an instant, everything seemed to flow backward in time. The house, from its state of disrepair, became golden and splendid again.
The wallpaper was re-affixed to the walls, the dusty carpet regained its proper color, and the mold in the corners and the strange smells in the air completely vanished. In an instant, even the light streaming in from the windows became bright and clean.
It was the work of a single spell.
Of course, it was a single spell from a Magic Master. If Sirius or even Kreacher, the last house-elf of the Black family, were to do this, it would be a massive project.
The sight directly stunned Percy Weasley and left Sirius completely dumbfounded.
He looked at the familiar yet strange surroundings with a complex expression. Before he could say anything, a wailing sound suddenly came from the corner of the room. It was the house-elf, Kreacher, whose anguished cries lamented the family's past glory and cursed the outsiders who had now occupied the family home.
Sirius was enraged and was about to go kick him, but Grindelwald stopped him.
Grindelwald's gaze was ice-cold. "Strictly speaking, you've been disowned by the family, so you are indeed an outsider."
Sirius looked furious, glaring at Grindelwald with a reckless attitude. "So what?"
"So what?" Grindelwald laughed. "It means you don't have the right to command this house-elf. It means you are not its master. It means it could appear at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix and betray all its information at any time."
"He wouldn't dare!!!" Sirius roared.
"To him, he is only trying to drive out the outsiders who have occupied the family property. He is righteous," Grindelwald shrugged. "The righteous have nothing to fear, not even death."
With that, he lightly raised his wand and pointed it at Kreacher. "If you don't mind, I can help you deal with this hidden danger. After all, you all call yourselves good people and are unable to do this."
"Don't!" Sirius panicked. He lunged forward, blocking Grindelwald's wand with his hand. He didn't know how to persuade this Dark Lord, so he could only look at Dumbledore imploringly. "Don't kill him, please!"
Kreacher looked up at Sirius's back in disbelief, and for a moment, he forgot to wail.
Dumbledore reached out and grabbed Grindelwald's arm, shaking his head. "I don't think we should punish someone for an evil they haven't committed yet."
Grindelwald sneered. "No wonder the wizarding world is in this state under your leadership!"
Dumbledore only looked at him with gentle resolve, neither arguing nor speaking. In the end, Grindelwald put down his wand, visibly annoyed.
"Ahem~"
Lockhart coughed twice, drawing everyone's attention, and then said, "Actually, there is still one official member of the Black family. If he agrees, Sirius can rejoin the Black family."
Dumbledore frowned in thought. "I don't remember there being an official member of the Black family still alive?"
Lockhart explained, "It's a ghostly existence, neither dead nor alive."
Dumbledore couldn't help but guess if it was Phineas Black, one of the portraits of the former headmasters hanging in the Hogwarts Headmaster's office. But magical portraits couldn't make such a decision; that was the rule in the wizarding world.
He soon had his answer.
Lockhart strode forward and cast a black flame spell that was characteristic of the Black family, lighting the fireplace. In the flames, a figure appeared in the rocking chair in front of the fireplace.
It was a thin, old man, but he looked full of vigor, with a sharp glint in his eyes.
"Hello, Mr. Arcturus Black." Lockhart bowed with a smile.
"And you are?" The old man looked at him, confused.
"I'm here for the lift installation service." Lockhart grinned. "My name is Gilderoy Lockhart."
The old Mr. Black had clearly never heard the name and looked around blankly. His gaze finally settled on someone else. "Grindelwald!!!!"
Grindelwald looked him up and down with interest. "You still remember me?"
The old Mr. Black's face soured. "You were the one who killed me. Do you think I would forget you?"
For a moment, everyone around them looked strange. Dumbledore had to step forward. "Arcturus, it's been a long time!"
The old man looked at Dumbledore, a bit dazed. It took him a while to realize who this long-haired, long-bearded old man was. "Albus?"
"Yes." Dumbledore smiled. He gestured to the hesitant-looking Sirius not far away. "This is Sirius. Do you remember him? The last descendant of your family, but he was disowned by your son."
"The last descendant…"
The old man looked a little sad. "Orion was always so impulsive," he muttered. He looked at Sirius, who was being nudged forward by Lupin, and a happy smile appeared on his face. "What Orion said doesn't count. I never agreed to disown Sirius. He is a good boy who bravely seeks his own path and breaks free from the shackles of the family!"
Tears streamed down Sirius's face. He let out a sob and fell to his knees in front of the old Mr. Black, weeping.
"Get up, stop crying. Whether it was right or wrong, life should be about trying bravely. It's not a sin!"
He looked at his grandson with a kind expression, shouting with some emotion, "Kreacher! Kreacher! You're still alive, aren't you?"
Kreacher scrambled over in excitement, crying. "Master, Master, I'm here!"
The old Mr. Black looked at Kreacher with sadness. "You've grown old, too."
Kreacher immediately knelt on the ground and started crying with him.
"Alright, alright, no more crying," the old man commanded. "Kreacher, the family tree is still on the wall, isn't it? Go add Sirius's name back to it!"
"Master!" Kreacher exclaimed. "Sirius betrayed the Blacks! He doesn't deserve it!"
The old man only smiled at him. He didn't just give a direct order because Kreacher was a house-elf. Instead, he calmly persuaded him, "Kreacher, what do you think is better? The Black family perishing completely, or having a successor?"
Kreacher was stunned. His rather dull mind couldn't grasp such a complicated matter.
"Go on. Add his name." The old man was sharp. Dumbledore and Grindelwald were here, and so was Sirius. This scene undoubtedly meant the Black family might be able to rise again. Even if it wasn't for personal sentiment, he had to consider the family's future.
The last descendant… There was no other choice. What else was there to choose?
"Go on. Come show me after you've added it."
Kreacher was loyal. No matter how unwilling he was, he had to obey.
The house-elf's place in the ecosystem of an ancient pure-blood family was very special.
Lockhart hadn't even considered that with just his house-elf status, Kreacher could be qualified to go to the Ministry of Magic to process Sirius's readmission to the Black family tree.
Perhaps it was as he had theorized before: because of their deep involvement in wizarding life, house-elves had slowly transformed from magical animals with animalistic traits into something more. They had even reached the 'humanoid creature' level.
In this extremely unique 'ritual' of highly participating in wizarding life, it wasn't just the house-elves that changed, but the wizards as well.
This was something Lockhart had felt deeply from his previous encounter with the Crabbe family's house-elf, "Tutu." In a family with more and more dull-witted descendants, the house-elves had taken on not only the role of butlers but had also come to control most of the family's resources.
This was no longer the position of a 'brownie' from old folklore, who would clean up in exchange for honey and bread, nor was it a simple relationship of 'dependency,' 'slavery,' or 'parasitism,' as many people thought.
It was a relationship of mutual reliance. This way for wizards and magical creatures to depend on each other and ensure their lineage continued was, without a doubt, based on one thing above all: loyalty.
The absolute loyalty of the house-elf to the wizard, and the wizard's absolute trust in the house-elf's loyal nature.
One could not exist without the other.
A situation like the Malfoy family's was the exception, with a disloyal house-elf and an abusive wizard.
More common were families like the Crouches. Old Barty was willing to trust his house-elf Winky, giving her the task of watching over his son, Barty Jr., whom his wife had used her life to swap out of Azkaban Prison—a secret that could have destroyed the family.
And Winky's status in the Crouch family was clearly not comparable to Dobby's in the Malfoy family. She was able to persuade Old Barty to let her take Barty Jr. to the Quidditch World Cup, and she was even able to independently get a private box from the World Cup organizers in Old Barty's name.
The house-elf had already become an inseparable part of wizarding culture, or rather, the culture of the ancient pure-blood families.
So…
If a Muggle-born wizard wanted to dismantle this powerful assistance the pure-blood families had, what could they do?
The answer was actually very simple: dismantle this trust, and change the master-servant relationship into one of employment.
For example... The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare (S.P.E.W.)!
Lockhart shook his head, pushing away the chaotic thoughts that had arisen due to the magical bloodline suppression from the lift. He let out a breath and slowly stepped out of the lift.
The lift was placed on the top floor of the townhouse in Sirius's room. Dumbledore cast a spell to permanently Transfigure an oak wardrobe into a wooden lift, and Lockhart took out the snail shell to release the invisible Dark Magical Creature.
Although everyone had consciously avoided talking about certain things… what they were actually doing was this: while Kreacher was out, they were installing the lift in the one place in the house where he would never enter.
Given Dumbledore's nature, he would not have instinctively done this. But Grindelwald was a master of his words. With a few subtle remarks, everyone had implicitly made this choice.
"Done!"
Lockhart stepped back a few paces, looking at the old-fashioned lift. He gently waved his wand to sense the state of the Dark Magical Creature, and finally used a Hovering Charm to levitate the snail shell to the top of the lift to place it.
"If this lift is ever accidentally destroyed, the Dark Magical Creature inside will immediately flee back into the snail shell!"
His expression was serious as he turned to look at the others. "When necessary, this is a way to make an emergency transfer of the lift!"
Dumbledore's gaze was profound as he examined the lift. "We'll arrange for the Longbottoms to come over tomorrow to try it out."
Lockhart quickly spoke up. "It's best to have their family come with them. I'm concerned that this kind of bloodline suppression could cause problems like temporal displacement or cognitive errors. With blood relatives present, their souls will relax instinctively."
"Of course, if more of their friends from before they were affected by the Cruciatus Curse are there, that would be even better."
"It's not a necessary condition, but it could be a little bit more helpful."
Dumbledore nodded. "Then I'll have to trouble you to be here as well to make sure it works."
Lockhart smiled faintly. "My pleasure."
And so it was decided.
Dumbledore clearly had other things to do and was about to leave with Grindelwald.
Professor McGonagall also had no intention of staying here.
Lupin, however, was showing signs of restlessness two days before the full moon and simply decided to stay here. It would also give him a chance to catch up with his old friend.
But soon, no one could leave.
When the house-elf Kreacher returned, he was holding a document signed by the Ministry of Magic. He handed it to Sirius with a look of hesitation.
This look immediately caught Grindelwald's attention.
Sirius took the document and didn't open it. He was feeling awkward about how to be around Kreacher and pointed irritably toward the stairs. "Go on, get out of my sight…"
"Wait!" Grindelwald stopped them again.
Sirius's expression instantly changed. He instinctively stood up and blocked Kreacher, his wand already clenched in his hand.
Grindelwald scoffed at his nervousness. The heterochromia in his left eye flashed, and he stared intently at the tense Kreacher behind Sirius. "How peculiar. He looks empty-headed, and I can't read anything with Legilimency, but I can clearly see you hesitating to say something."
"Have you been trained in something like Occlumency?"
Dumbledore was startled by Grindelwald's neuroticism. When he heard this, he felt a little speechless. "Gellert, don't you know that it's very difficult to use Legilimency to read a house-elf's mind? It's their innate talent!"
In the long history of Magic, wizards had chosen house-elves to enter their lives because the house-elves themselves had unique abilities.
Grindelwald rolled his eyes. "How would I know? My family didn't have house-elves when I was a child, and I had little contact with them before."
Of course, he had also never tried to read the mind of a house-elf he looked down on. That was the most fundamental reason he didn't know.
This was a very normal thing. Not every ancient pure-blood family had house-elves. You first had to have a castle, or a manor that a loyal house-elf who had been brought out of a castle would be willing to continue to breed and multiply in.
If you didn't provide a proper home, no matter how loyal or hardworking a house-elf was, they wouldn't be willing to have children. It was a matter of instinct!
The relationship between house-elves and wizards had this one condition in between them.
Otherwise, having a house-elf would not be considered the pride of a pure-blood family.
Dumbledore's family hadn't had any when he was a child either. It was normal not to know things you had little contact with and that weren't necessary to know, just as most people present had no idea how Centaurs mated.
As Sirius breathed a sigh of relief, he immediately looked at Kreacher with suspicion. "What were you about to tell me?"
Kreacher looked nervous, waving his hands frantically. "Nothing! Nothing at all!"
Sirius stood up straight, turned around, and stared down at him. "I command you, by the order of your master, to speak!"
Kreacher's expression shifted. He finally thought of something sad and began to cry.
He cried so mournfully, kneeling on the ground and repeatedly hitting his head against the floor.
"Waaaaah, Kreacher should have died! Master died, and Kreacher lived! Kreacher should not be alive! Kreacher should have died in master's place…"
He hit his head against the ground so hard that blood soon seeped from his nose and forehead. He was hitting it so hard it was as if he wanted to die right then and there.
"Kreacher!" Sirius roared. "Tell me! Who is the master?!"
Kreacher did not answer, only continued to punish himself.
"I command you! Kreacher! Answer my question!" Sirius finally couldn't take it anymore. He kicked Kreacher away, strode forward, and stared down at him. "I can't stand your behavior!"
"Answer me!"
Kreacher sobbed. Finally, under Sirius's intense questioning, he haltingly recounted the story of the Black family son he truly recognized as his master—Sirius's younger brother, Regulus Black.
"Master Regulus was a true Black, not a traitor like Sirius who shirked his family duties. He was great…"
Sirius snarled fiercely, "I don't need you to tell me that!"
If Lupin hadn't been holding him back, he probably would have tried to kick the miserable creature again. It had been more than ten days since he returned to the ancestral home, and he hadn't had a moment of peace.
If Dumbledore hadn't needed a place for the Order of the Phoenix headquarters, he would not have wanted to come back here at all. Every single decoration in this place filled him with disgust.
The house was filled with the arrogance of the pure-blood elite, as well as the ominous and evil aura of wizarding lore.
"Master Regulus was shouldering the mission of making the family great again. He joined the Dark Lord's great cause. He said they would make it so wizards didn't have to hide anymore, that they could walk freely on the streets that once belonged to Muggles…"
Kreacher recounted the dreams Master Regulus had spoken of, his face full of pride.
Everyone around him listened in silence. Even Grindelwald let out a sigh.
It just proved that society harbored such power and had such problems. What could Dumbledore truly change by locking him, Grindelwald, in Nurmengard? These forces would always find a way out for themselves.
It was a pity they had met Voldemort, who only cared about his own interests. All their noble ideals became empty talk.
It was at this moment that Grindelwald began to understand what Dumbledore had meant when he said, "Sometimes when I look back on my life, I can't help but be tortured by past events, wondering if I made the wrong choices…"
No matter what, the pure-blood families were still the most valuable and precious force in the wizarding world.
It was a shame Dumbledore couldn't make proper use of this power, and in the end, these people turned to the treacherous Voldemort.
As a result, in the past few decades, the once-powerful pure-blood families had disappeared from the long river of history, one after another, completely gone.
Dumbledore's weariness and pain were not without reason. Life was so difficult. To have a future for Muggle-born and half-blood wizards, it was inevitable that the future of others would have to be sacrificed.
In fact, in this room, only Sirius was probably simple-minded, or rather, had an unshakeable belief in good and evil.
The others, not to mention Grindelwald, Dumbledore, and Lockhart, were veterans of countless years and wars, and they no longer understood things the way they had in their youth.
Justice was a flag, but the flag was not justice.
"One day, Master Regulus found Kreacher and said the Dark Lord needed a house-elf. He needed Kreacher…"
"Master Regulus had indeed gained the Dark Lord's trust and was involved in the most core secrets…"
"Kreacher drank the potion in the stone basin and was in so much pain he wanted to die. There were many hands in the lake trying to drag Kreacher underwater…"
"Kreacher remembered that master had said Kreacher had to go back to him. Kreacher could not go back…"
"The highest law for a house-elf is the master's command," Kreacher said, his voice like a song. "Master told Kreacher to go home, so Kreacher went home…"
"But one day, Master Regulus suddenly found me and asked me to take him back to that cave, and he took out an identical locket…"
"He commanded me that after he drank the potion, I had to switch the lockets and bring it back…"
Sirius suddenly broke free from Lupin's hold and lunged forward, grabbing Kreacher's shoulders. Tears had been streaming down his face for a while now. He roared, "Why wasn't it you who drank it? Why was it him?!"
Kreacher was so sorrowful. "Master Regulus would not agree. He said I was his family, and he didn't want me to get hurt again! His command was one I had to obey... Waaaaaah... Master Regulus... He was such a good person… It should have been Kreacher who drank it…"
Sirius trembled with pain. He hated this family, hated his parents who only cared about their own interests, and he also hated his brother, who had a typical Slytherin personality. But he didn't want any of them to die. He didn't want this at all!
He was in so much pain, looking at Kreacher anxiously. "Tell me, you brought him back, didn't you? You came back on your own before! You must have brought him back, right?!"
Kreacher sobbed. "Kreacher completed Master Regulus's mission and switched the lockets, but when I turned back, master had already been dragged into the water by the monsters in the lake!"
BAM!
Lupin suddenly tackled Sirius from a corner, knocking him to the side as he prepared to rage and kill Kreacher. "Sirius, calm down! You can't punish this loyal house-elf because of this!"
He knew Sirius too well and had made the right call in time.
Sirius struggled angrily, but Lupin held him down with all his might, shouting sorrowfully, "Didn't you hear him? Your brother, Regulus, said Kreacher was his family!"
"You know how much your brother would care about him. Kreacher might have been the only family he had left at that moment!"
"When he was planning to betray Voldemort, the two sisters still alive in the family were no longer his family. Do you know how lonely he must have been? Calm down, brother. Don't hurt your dead brother."
Silence…
A silent pause…
Sirius stopped struggling. He just lay on the ground, tears silently streaming down his face.
Hate!
He hated himself so much!
He looked up at the portraits of his family members on the wall. Many of them were empty, with only the frames remaining. Those empty frames were like a pair of eyes, watching him, the last descendant of the Black family, watching him…
"A Black is an ill omen!"
...........
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He could almost hear his father's roar in his ears.