At that crucial moment, Sirius interjected with urgency in his voice, leaning even closer across the sticky, beer-stained table,
"Mundungus went through considerable trouble to locate the place, spent days following leads, calling in multiple favors from questionable contacts, and bribing several people with good money—so it shouldn't be wrong. After that, once we had the location, we searched their warehouse and offices thoroughly."
Adrian smiled faintly with knowing amusement. "I assume you didn't have their official permission or any kind of legal warrant for that particular search."
"Don't interrupt with irrelevant details about legality," Sirius waved his hand dismissively through the air, though there was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes clearly unconcerned with such minor technicalities as breaking and entering. "What matters most right now is that we found this."
"What is it?" Adrian asked cooperatively, leaning forward slightly with growing interest.
Remus began carefully opening the folder, "Some materials. Rather significant ones, actually. You'd better see for yourself, it's easier than trying to explain."
Adrian accepted the thick stack of papers from his hands.
Skimming through the first few pages, he could quickly confirm this was a comprehensive roster containing detailed introductions of various children, each entry was densely packed with information that had faded to a pale brown over the years.
Remus added helpfully, watching Adrian's face for reactions, "This is the complete record of all the children from that orphanage, including those who were adopted, those who aged out of the system, and those who were transferred to other facilities. We've already screened through it. Look at the first page, that's the index we created to make sense of it all."
Adrian's sharp gaze fell on the topmost page, scanning the alphabetically organized list of names.
His eyes immediately spotted the most conspicuous name positioned near the center of the page, circled multiple times in red ink.
"Amy Black."
The name seemed to leap off the page at him. This must be Amy's full name.
Adrian looked up at Sirius with puzzlement. The surname couldn't possibly be a coincidence, could it?
"Uh..." Sirius immediately raised both hands in a defensive gesture, palms out, clearly anticipating exactly this reaction.
"Let me make this absolutely clear first: this Amy has absolutely no connection to the Black family of the wizarding world. I checked thoroughly, believe me. It's just a coincidence that they share the same surname, nothing more than that. In Britain, there are plenty of Muggles with the surname Black, it's actually quite common in certain regions."
"I see," Adrian responded flatly, though his expression showed he wasn't entirely convinced yet.
Seeing that he still seemed somewhat skeptical with doubt lingering around his eyes, Sirius added more weakly, "Take a look at the detailed introduction on her individual page. The evidence speaks for itself."
Adrian didn't really think Amy was from the wizarding world either as her background and circumstances didn't fit that pattern at all, so he refocused his attention on the materials in his hands, carefully flipping through the pages until he found the relevant section.
Soon enough, after passing several other children's records, he located the page specifically about Amy Black.
The bureaucratic record showed that Amy had grown up in the orphanage from infancy, with both parents listed as unknown, there were no names, no information, just empty spaces where family connections should have been recorded.
She had been adopted twice over the years—the first time she was returned to the orphanage after only three months, with vague notes about "behavioral difficulties" and "concerning incidents" that weren't explained upon.
The second time, more recently, she was adopted by a married couple who had presented impeccable credentials and references.
Both the husband and wife had given the surname "Lestrange" on the adoption paperwork.
Well, that was one hundred percent Bellatrix's doing, no question about it. Her married name was Lestrange, and this level of bureaucratic deception would have been trivially easy for someone with her skills and complete lack of moral constraints.
"It seems the matter is quite clear now," Adrian said thoughtfully, gently placing the materials back on the table. "However, there doesn't seem to be anything particularly special about this beyond confirming what we already suspected."
He felt slightly relieved internally, though the relief was tempered with concern for the girl's wellbeing.
It appeared that Amy's background wasn't complicated after all.
Just an ordinary Muggle-born witch who, for some special and tragic reason involving abuse and magical suppression, had become an Obscurial through Bellatrix's inflicted torment.
Obviously, the dry, bureaucratic orphanage files couldn't possibly contain the specific reason why Amy had turned into an Obscurial.
"Wait, there's one more thing." Just when Adrian thought there was nothing more to discuss and was preparing to stand and return to Hogwarts, Sirius leaned forward slightly across the table, his expression changed to something more grave and concerned.
He asked in a deliberately lowered voice, his eyes were darting briefly to the other shadowy patrons in the dingy bar, "Is there a student at Hogwarts named John Selwyn?"
'John?'
Adrian was momentarily stunned after hearing this completely unexpected name, his mind immediately raced through possibilities and connections. "How do you know about him?" he asked sharply.
"Harry wrote to me," Sirius explained, reaching into his robes to extract a folded piece of parchment covered in Harry's handwriting. "He mentioned this boy in his letter—apparently they've become friends of sorts."
'I see.'
Adrian nodded slowly, his expression becoming more serious as implications began forming in his mind. Then he pressed further, his voice taking on an edge of urgency, "Is something wrong with John? Why are you asking about him specifically?"
An ominous premonition quietly emerged in his chest, like ice water trickling down his spine.
Adrian quickly flipped through the documents in his hands with focus, searching with sudden intensity. He turned back to the index on the first page, his eyes scanning rapidly for Amy's name and the surrounding entries.
Right below "Amy Black," the name "John Selwyn" was prominently displayed in the same faded handwriting.
"What is this...?"
Cold sweat broke out on Adrian's back, prickling across his skin despite the warmth of the tavern. His hands tightened on the brittle pages.
This couldn't be explained away as mere coincidence.
"It seems you've noticed," Sirius's expression grew equally grave, all trace of his earlier lightheartedness vanished completely. "Although I'm very reluctant to believe it, that boy named John might be problematic—he only enrolled last year, didn't he? That's what Harry said in his letter."
"Yes," Adrian confirmed concisely, his mind already racing through possibilities.
Adrian fell silent for a moment, his thoughts were churning as he began thinking about all of John's various unreasonable behaviors over the past months.
No, wait!
He should have discovered the abnormalities about John much earlier. The signs had all been there, hadn't they?
It was just that some kind of subtle magic seemed to have been interfering with their thinking all along, gently redirecting his suspicions, making him dismiss concerns as soon as they formed, this was definitely not something a first-year student could accomplish.
With this stark realization crystallizing in his mind, Adrian immediately stood up from his chair with sudden urgency.
"I need to return to Hogwarts immediately," he said to Sirius and Remus, his voice was tight with alarm. "John's identity is extremely sensitive and requires urgent investigation...."
Sirius was somewhat surprised to see Adrian react so seriously and with such concern as Adrian was usually calm to the point of being unflustered, even in dangerous situations.
He exchanged a glance with Remus, and both men realized simultaneously that the situation might be far more serious and potentially dangerous than they had initially anticipated when they'd called this meeting.
"Be careful," Remus cautioned with genuine worry evident in his voice, his face was creasing with concern. "It would be best to notify Dumbledore first before confronting anything directly. Don't go alone."
At the same precise time that Adrian and the other two were conversing in the dingy Hog's Head Inn, in Hogwarts Castle on the other side of the village, in Umbridge's garishly pink office that resembled nothing so much as the inside of a bottle of Pepto-Bismol, she was entertaining what she considered a very troublesome "guest."
The office was decorated in various colors of pink—pink walls, pink curtains, pink desk accessories, even pink-framed photographs of simpering kittens covering every available surface. The syrupy sweetness of the décor was almost nauseating.
"Mr. Selwyn," she stood rigidly behind her desk, looking down at John who sat straight in the uncomfortable chair before her, suppressing her growing anger as she spoke with false, sugary sweetness that barely masked the venom beneath.
"I believe you should know by now that what I cannot tolerate most, what I find absolutely unacceptable, is repeated offenses and deliberate disrespect for authority."
"I'm sorry, Professor," John maintained his perfectly obedient appearance.
"Sleeping in class," Umbridge began counting off on her fat fingers, her voice rose with each accusation, "blatantly ignoring the professor's direct instructions, reading books completely unrelated to the lesson material I have specifically assigned, and frequently daydreaming when you should be paying attention to proper Ministry-approved curriculum..."
With each item Umbridge listed, her voice rose a notch higher, becoming shriller and grating. "Mr. Selwyn, these behaviors have seriously violated classroom discipline and show a flagrant disregard for educational authority. Such insubordination cannot be tolerated."
"I'm sorry," John repeated with the same mechanical politeness, still offering his apology obediently, without any additional expression or explanation. His face remained blank.
Seeing John's skillful manner of false remorse, the way he could apologize without meaning it, an inexplicable anger flared up hot in Umbridge's chest, making her breath come faster.
She understood this well.
This student appeared compliant and obedient on the surface, saying all the right words with appropriate respect, but in reality didn't take her seriously at all.
Afterward, she knew, he would continue doing exactly whatever he had been doing before, without any genuine change in behavior or attitude.
He was just a first-year student.
Although his grades were excellent, she'd checked his records thoroughly that didn't represent much in the grand scheme of things. Intelligence without obedience was dangerous.
If it were other professors, they might turn a blind eye to such minor misbehaviors, after all it was just not paying attention in class.
But she was Dolores Umbridge!
Recently, she had done so much precisely to establish her unquestionable authority among the students. To make them understand that she was in control, that her word was law.
And now this insignificant first-year dared to so brazenly challenge her authority, to mock her with false apologies and unchanged behavior.
Thinking of this, dwelling on the insult and the challenge, Umbridge couldn't help but grip the special quill in her hand more tightly, her knuckles were whitening with the pressure.
It seemed the time had come to make an example of this first-year student, to teach him and the others a lesson they wouldn't soon forget.
At this moment, John sat quietly in the hard chair positioned before her desk, his small hands folded submissively in his lap, his posture was perfect, still ostensibly unclear about what punishment was coming.
But judging from Umbridge's increasingly volatile expression, from the way her toad-like face was flushing with suppressed rage and her fingers were twitching, he might be in for some unpleasant trouble.
He narrowed his eyes subtly, and a glint of something cold and calculating flashed between his brows.
However, Umbridge failed to notice this detail as she was too immersed in the increasing excitement of being about to administer what she considered well-deserved punishment.
She cleared her throat with self-importance and said haughtily, lifting her chin, "Given your repeated refusal to mend your ways despite multiple warnings, Mr. Selwyn, I believe it's necessary to take some special measures. Measures that will ensure you remember this lesson."
John raised his head slowly, meeting her gaze, his eyes appearing calm on the surface. "Special measures, Professor?"
"That's correct." Umbridge retrieved a roll of fresh parchment from her drawer with an air of ceremony, handling it as if it were something precious, and extended the special quill toward John.
A false, syrupy smile spread across her toad-like face. "Mr. Selwyn, you will use this special quill to copy the sentence 'I must obey classroom discipline' repeatedly, carefully, until I believe you truly recognize your mistake and have internalized this important lesson."
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