Chapter 287 : Another Conversation with Dumbledore
He also brought a gift for Phineas—the only person he hadn't yet killed who had harmed Lisa: Walton McNeill.
Phineas had always ignored him before, but this time, Fudge personally sent him to the manor.
Phineas killed him in front of all the guests, cut off his head, and placed it before Lisa's tombstone.
"Lisa, rest in peace. I've avenged you."
And silently, in his heart, he added:
Wait for me. I'll find a Time-Turner and bring you back.
Phineas was still haunted by the matter of the Time-Turner. If he were in third year, he could have applied for one through Hogwarts. But now, as a fourth-year student, there was no valid reason to request one.
There was, of course, another way—obtaining it through the Ministry of Magic. But there was a caveat: while the Department of Mysteries technically belonged to the Ministry, in reality, it was under the jurisdiction of the Council of Elders. No one in the Ministry could command them—least of all for an artifact as sensitive as a Time-Turner.
For a brief moment, Phineas regretted killing Voldemort. He remembered vividly that in the original timeline, Voldemort had been resurrected years later and manipulated events to lure Harry into the Department of Mysteries to retrieve the prophecy. That would have been the perfect opportunity to acquire a Time-Turner.
But Phineas had killed Voldemort, and with no immediate path to resurrection, Voldemort couldn't stir up the chaos necessary to trigger that chain of events.
Although Time-Turners were powerful enough to reverse time, their stability deteriorated the further back they were used. Generally, a week's journey into the past exceeded the Time-Turner's optimal threshold. So even if Phineas managed to acquire one and traveled back to the day Lisa was attacked, the instability might render it futile. And with each passing day, the chance of successfully changing the past grew slimmer.
Of course, Phineas had considered buying a Time-Turner from the system—but the ones offered were enhanced for stability and limited to a maximum of three days' travel.
Normally, these superior versions would be far more valuable than the Ministry's originals. Safe and stable time travel was an incredible advantage.
But Phineas wasn't looking for stability. He needed instability—the kind that allowed greater range. Which meant his only real option was to get one from the Department of Mysteries.
Back at the funeral,
Fudge looked displeased after witnessing Phineas kill Walton McNeill so cleanly.
Though he'd brought McNeill as a sacrificial offering, he was still a Ministry official. Why couldn't Phineas have waited until he'd left? Now Fudge looked complicit in the murder.
Suppressing his frustration, he turned to Phineas and said,
"Lord Black, the Ministry is rather busy these days. I won't be staying long."
And with that, ignoring the reactions of the other guests, he Disapparated on the spot.
Though Fudge hadn't said it explicitly, everyone knew what "busy" meant.
The Ministry was indeed overwhelmed—because in recent days, Phineas had led a large number of wizards on a bloody campaign through the British wizarding world. He hadn't even tried to hide his actions and had been seen by numerous Muggles.
The Ministry couldn't enforce the Statute of Secrecy against someone like Phineas, who commanded such power. Even other countries wouldn't dare oppose him. So Fudge could only grit his teeth and send Ministry workers to modify the memories of Muggles, one by one.
The funeral itself passed quickly—or rather, the guests didn't stay long. Most left with grim expressions.
It wasn't just a funeral for Lisa—it was Phineas publicly announcing his dominance. Naturally, the other pure-blood families were displeased.
In the end, besides Phineas's own forces, only a few families remained—those friendly to the House of Black: the Selwyns, Ollivanders, Malfoys, Weasleys, Greengrasses, longbottoms, and so on.
And, of course, the Hogwarts professors.
Once the crowd had mostly dispersed, Phineas approached Dumbledore.
"Professor, I had a feeling you'd want to speak with me."
Dumbledore looked at him, expression complex, and nodded with a sigh.
"Yes, Mr. Black. There are some things I need to say."
Phineas gestured politely.
"Then please, Professor."
He led Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, and several others to a quiet study within the manor.
"It's private here. We've cast silencing spells—no one outside can hear us."
Phineas spoke calmly.
Professor Flitwick admired the enchantments, protections, and layout of the study.
"If you're interested in the magic, Professor," Phineas offered, "I can share my notes."
"Thank you very much. This is quite a remarkable enchantment," Flitwick said. "You truly have talent, Phineas."
Phineas only smiled and turned to Dumbledore, who had been silent.
"So, Professor?"
Dumbledore finally spoke.
"Mr. Black…"
"Just call me Phineas," he interrupted lightly. "I'm not going to become the next Voldemort, am I?"
Dumbledore's face tensed.
"Very well, Phineas. I want to know what your true goals are."
Phineas raised his hands.
"I'm returning to Hogwarts. I'm just a fourth-year student, after all."
The professors nearly rolled their eyes. Ordinary? This "student" had just led a campaign that destroyed four pure-blood families and captured or killed countless Death Eaters.
Dumbledore frowned.
"I've heard you've warned the pure-blood families—that if they don't attend your council, it will be taken as a declaration of war against House Black."
Phineas's expression darkened.
"I see. So someone ran crying to you."
He sat back on the sofa and waved to the professors.
"Please sit."
He turned back to Dumbledore.
"You must know about the Council of Elders. Then you must also know the longstanding politics between the Black, Selwyn, Ritchie, and Lestrange families. Britain has always been Black territory. More than a decade ago, after Voldemort wiped out the Gaunt family in Italy, that region became a power vacuum—and many families, ours included, set our sights on it."
"The Ritchie family took advantage of our conquest in Italy to encroach on Britain. Normally, we'd allow some overlap—but their influence grew because our own families betrayed us. That, I cannot forgive."
"I was young back then, and we were at war. But now that I've grown and have the power, it's time to deal with those traitors. Treason is never acceptable."
Dumbledore hesitated. He wanted to argue but couldn't. What Phineas said was true. Britain had long been the Black family's domain. The Ministry's authority came only through mandates from the Council of Elders. If not for that, Britain would be Black's kingdom. Other countries had similar "royal" magical houses.
Phineas snapped his fingers, and Puff the house-elf appeared.
"Bring drinks for our guests."
A moment later, a steaming cup of black tea—extra sugar—appeared before Dumbledore. He sipped and smiled in satisfaction.
"Then, Phineas, can you promise me you won't drive these families to extinction? The number of pure-bloods dwindles every generation. As much as I dislike their politics, they do have a role to play."
Phineas scoffed.
"They won't anger me. The families I eliminated were loyal Death Eaters—and they attacked Sirius, the Black patriarch. That's treason. The rest? I only intend to give them a warning and a taste of punishment. A little economic pressure, nothing more."
He added, almost as an afterthought,
"Oh, and Professor, Voldemort is dead. We won't need to worry about him… for a while."
Snape's eyes narrowed.
"For a while? Are you saying he'll return?"
Phineas looked at him as though he were daft.
"Of course. He created Horcruxes. We didn't destroy all of them before I killed him. Even if his body dies, he lingers as a soul fragment—drawn to the remaining Horcruxes."
He turned to Dumbledore.
"We assumed there were seven Horcruxes. I've already destroyed the diary at Malfoy Manor. The ring, the locket, the cup, the diadem—all gone. That leaves Nagini and… something else. But when I killed Nagini, nothing happened. And Voldemort vanished instantly when I struck him down. That means there's another Horcrux we missed. Probably hidden somewhere in Albania, where he once hid."
Dumbledore nodded gravely.
"That would make sense. His soul was fragile. It'll take time for him to recover—if he ever does."
Phineas shrugged.
"Well, that's your problem now, Professor. I've done my part. We have time—time to rest, to train a savior."
Dumbledore looked at him solemnly.
"Just remember your promise. Don't destroy the other families."
Phineas nodded.
"I won't. I have no desire to carry that many lives on my conscience."
The meaning behind his words was not lost on Dumbledore.
"Then… will you return to Hogwarts tomorrow? Your leave is long overdue."
"Of course. But, as a reward for killing Voldemort, I hope you'll overlook that."
Dumbledore sighed.
"Rules are rules. Minerva will see to your detentions."
He paused, then added,
"But your contributions cannot be ignored. For your actions in defeating Voldemort and protecting the wizarding world, you will receive the Hogwarts Award for Special Services once again, an additional 300 points for your House, and a joint recommendation by the Hogwarts staff for a seat on the Wizengamot… as well as the First-Class Order of Merlin."