The rest of the school year faded away calmly, almost anticlimactically, like when the tide recedes after a great tsunami.
With Sirius Black exonerated and Peter Pettigrew "officially" on the run, the tension that had suffocated Hogwarts for months dissipated. The Dementors were removed from the school, allowing the sun to finally warm the castle grounds. And the final exams were held without any interruption.
But Fred and George Weasley had other plans; they decided that the year couldn't end just like that.
During the Farewell Banquet, just as Dumbledore rose to give his final words, the twins detonated their masterpiece. Hundreds of "Teasing Sparklers" exploded simultaneously under the tables of the four houses. These were no ordinary fireworks; each one formed animals of light that raced across the Great Hall, pursued by cartoonish versions of Argus Filch and Severus Snape made of purple smoke. The chaos was magnificent, with students laughing and cheering as the smoky Snape unsuccessfully tried to deduct points from a dragon made of golden sparks. Aurelian, from the Slytherin table, raised his glass with a slight smile of approval toward his two prankster friends. It was a great end to the school year.
For Aurelian, however, the real end of the year came on the Hogwarts Express.
As soon as the train left Hogsmeade station, Hestia and Flora Carrow secured the door to their private compartment with three different locking spells and slammed the curtains shut. The outside world ceased to exist; only they and their beloved remained.
The atmosphere in the compartment changed instantly, charged with electricity and overwhelming physical need. Hestia and Flora were insatiable.
Hestia wasted no time. She moved quickly and straddled Aurelian's lap, ignoring everything else. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling gently to force him to tilt his head back, exposing his neck, which she began to kiss and bite with hungry passion.
"We're going to miss you... summer will be eternal without you," Hestia moaned against his skin, her hips moving subtly against his, seeking friction, seeking to feel him close.
Flora, for her part, settled herself at his side, pressing her body against his like a second skin. Her hands, agile and daring, slid under Aurelian's shirt, tracing his chest and abdomen with her fingers, tracing every muscle, wanting to know that he was hers.
"Promise us you'll write to us, or better yet, call us at the mansion," Flora whispered in Aurelian's ear, biting his earlobe hard before moving her kisses down to his jawline, meeting her sister's lips in the process.
Aurelian, surrounded by the warmth and intoxicating scent of the girls, let himself go. His hands ran down both their backs, down to their waists, squeezing them possessively. The kisses that followed were sweet, deep, wet, and desperate. Hestia kissed him as if she wanted to devour him, their tongues fighting for dominance, while Flora interspersed her own passionate kisses on Aurelian's neck and abdomen, taking advantage of every breath he took to claim his lips.
"You know you're always on my mind," Aurelian whispering between kisses.
They were completely lost in pleasure, a mixture of love and overflowing adolescent desire. For hours, the compartment was filled with broken moans, caresses, and the promise that for them, he was the only man on earth.
When the train finally pulled into King's Cross station, the twins reluctantly parted from Aurelian. Their lips were swollen, their hair tousled, and their eyes still shone with intensity and desire. They straightened their clothes before stepping out onto the platform as the perfect, cold ladies of the House of Carrow. Ready and waiting for the moment to be back in the arms of their Love.
Hours later, silence reigned in Little Hangleton.
The Gaunt Mansion welcomed its master. Aurelian was resting in the main room, reclining in a light green velvet armchair in front of the unlit fireplace. The contrast with the heat of the train was stark, but he also enjoyed the solitude.
He had his eyes closed, mentally reviewing his next moves, when a familiar sound interrupted him.
Crack.
"Master Aurelian?"
Stinky the house elf appeared, bowing slightly. In his hands he held a silver tray with a sealed letter.
"A letter has arrived, sir. It came with a very large black owl that tried to peck Stinky." The elf shuddered. "It has an important seal."
Aurelian took the envelope. Turning it over, he saw the black wax seal with a coat of arms and the phrase: Toujours Pur.
The House Black.
Aurelian calmly broke the seal, unfolded the parchment, and began to read. A smile of pure satisfaction curved his lips.
"Gaunt,
I am a man of my word. I have my freedom, and very soon I will have my godson. The price has been high, but the debt will be paid.
From this moment on, the Black House Library is yours.
The grimoires and ancient books, the records of blood rituals, the maps of important magical locations that my family has jealously guarded for centuries... all the knowledge accumulated by the Blacks now belongs to you. You may take them, copy them, or burn them if you please.
In addition, any dark artifacts in the display cases or anywhere else in Grimmauld Place that you wish to claim are yours. Kreacher has strict orders not to prevent you from taking or touching anything. With this, the payment for returning my life will be sealed.
Sirius O. Black"
Aurelian dropped the letter into his lap and let out a soft, dark laugh that echoed off the stone walls.
"Excellent," he murmured, stroking the edge of the parchment.
At last he could get his hands on all that knowledge that, without his intervention, would be lost and abandoned.
Sirius Black, in his desperation, had handed him the magical arsenal of Britain's darkest family. Books that the Ministry considered extinct and obscure, curses that had not been cast in generations, and artifacts imbued with black magic so ancient that it had never been recorded. All of that was finally his.
"Stinky," Aurelian called, without taking his eyes off the fireplace.
"Yes, Master?"
"Prepare the mansion's library. We'll be receiving a new collection very soon."
Aurelian leaned back, wondering what kind of objects and books he would find there.
Number 12 Grimmauld Place emerged from the London fog as Aurelian stepped onto the sidewalk. Stinky was at his side, visibly nervous about the energy emanating from the house, invisible to Muggles.
The black door with the knocker opened before Aurelian could knock.
Sirius Black was there. He looked remarkably better than he had at the Shrieking Shack. Although he was still thin, his skin had lost the grayish tone of Azkaban, and he was wearing a casual house robe. Kreacher, the Black family's old house elf, stood beside him, hunched over and muttering insults under his breath, looking at Stinky with utter contempt.
"Welcome to the home of my 'lovely' ancestors, Gaunt," Sirius said mockingly, opening his arms. "Or as I prefer to call it, my mother's mausoleum. Come in, Gaunt. Take whatever you want. The fewer dark things there are here when Harry comes, the better."
Aurelian entered, his gaze wandering around the gloomy hallway, lit by gas lamps that cast long shadows.
"It's a lovely house, Sirius," Aurelian said with a hint of sarcasm. "It has that 'imminent death' feel that has been so lost in modern decor."
Sirius let out a dry laugh.
"If you like the smell of mold and madness, it's paradise. Come on, the library is this way."
He led them through narrow corridors to a double door of black oak. As he opened it, the smell of old parchment, leather, and magic hit Aurelian, welcoming him. The shelves reached up to the ceiling, filled with volumes that would make the Forbidden Section at Hogwarts look like a collection of children's stories.
He scanned the spines of the books: Magick Moste Evile, Secrets of the Darker Arts, grimoires and manuscripts from the Middle Ages... It was an incalculable fortune of forbidden knowledge forgotten by the rest of the world.
Aurelian smiled; it was a treasure trove.
He turned to his elf.
"Stinky," Aurelian ordered in a calm voice, "You can start now. Take everything, I want it all, every book, every scroll, every map. And any object in this room that vibrates with magic, I want everything at Gaunt Manor in an hour."
The elf bowed.
"As you command, Master Aurelian! Stinky will be quick," Stinky squealed, snapping his fingers and beginning to make entire stacks of books disappear with his elven magic.
In the hallway, the noise woke the paintings. The curtains covering Walburga Black's portrait flew open.
"DAMNED TRAITOR!" howled the painted old woman, her mouth foaming angrily. "Staining my parents' house! Handing over the Black legacy to strangers! Shame! Ungrateful son, you filthy blood-trash!"
Sirius's eyes rolled back in his head.
"My mother..." he sighed. "Walburga has lungs of steel, even as a painting."
Aurelian walked into the hallway, where the curtains of a life-size portrait had been thrown open. The old witch in the painting screamed, foaming at the mouth as she watched a foreign elf dismantle her legacy.
"YOU! BLOOD TRAITOR!" Walburga screamed, staring at Sirius. "GIVING OUR TREASURE TO STRANGERS! SHAME! DISHONOR!"
"Shut up, you old witch!" Sirius yelled, laughing as he tried to close the curtains again. "The Black legacy ends today!"
"You fool!" Walburga continued to scream, other portraits joining in the chorus of insults, horrified to see their family heritage being plundered by a house elf under the orders of a mere teenager.
Aurelian ignored the screams. While Stinky continued to empty the library, he walked away to go upstairs. There was something else in this house that he needed to get. A familiar vibration pulled at his magic like a magnet. Ignoring the stuffed elf heads on the walls, he stopped in front of a door with a sign that read, "Do not enter without the express permission of Master Regulus Arcturus Black."
"Regulus," Aurelian murmured.
He opened the door slowly. The room was decorated in Slytherin colors, with newspaper clippings about Voldemort on the walls. He ignored all that, focusing his attention on an old wardrobe.
He approached, moved the wood with a touch of his magic, and there it was. A heavy gold locket with a serpentine "S" encrusted with several sparkling green stones.
The Slytherin locket.
The moment his fingers touched the metal, he felt the reaction. Unlike what would happen to anyone else—the fear, the visions, the suffocating terror—there was none of that. The Horcrux reacted to Aurelian by recognizing him. The soul inside the object sensed the blood of its creator, the essence of its "father" in the locket, and it warmed gently in his hand. There was no hostility, only a silent welcome.
"NO!"
Kreacher's hoarse voice broke the moment. The old elf had appeared in the doorway, his eyes wide as he saw the object in Aurelian's hands.
"Master Regulus' locket!" Kreacher squawked, lunging forward to try to snatch it away. "Kreacher must destroy it! It is Master Regulus' order! The boy cannot touch it!"
Aurelian raised the locket out of the elf's reach and stared at him coldly.
"Stop," he ordered.
Kreacher froze, fighting against the magic that compelled him to obey, trembling with rage. His loyalty to Regulus was strong.
"Give it back to me!" hissed Kreacher. "It's evil! Master Regulus died because of it!"
"The deal with your master Sirius was clear," said Aurelian, putting the locket in the inside pocket of his robe. "Everything I want to take from this house is mine. No exceptions. Sirius is the Lord of this house, and you obey his orders. Are you going to disobey a direct order from the head of the Black family, elf?"
Kreacher trembled with rage and helplessness, digging his nails into his own palms.
"Thief!" sobbed Kreacher. "Damn the thief! Damn Master Sirius for letting the thief in!"
"Curse all you want, Kreacher," Aurelian replied, walking past him. "There's nothing you can do." He went downstairs, leaving the elf crying in his former master's room.
In the hall, Stinky was waiting by the door, looking a little tired but satisfied.
"Everything is in the Gaunt Mansion, Master. Stinky also took some daggers, a collection of poisons, and some cups that looked... interesting."
"Well done, Stinky," Aurelian said with a smile.
Sirius approached from the living room with a glass of wine in his hand, ignoring his mother's distant sobs.
"Did you find anything interesting upstairs?" Sirius asked, noticing that Aurelian had come down from the upper floors.
"Don't worry, Sirius," Aurelian replied with an enigmatic smile. "Nothing you'll miss."
Sirius shrugged.
"Better you than me. Thanks for... well, everything."
"Enjoy your freedom, Sirius," Aurelian said, walking toward the door. "And be careful. The world is still a dangerous place."
"I'm always careful, Gaunt," Sirius laughed.
Aurelian stepped out into the London night. He had the knowledge and legacy of the Blacks, and he had managed to obtain another piece of his father's soul. Now he just had to wait for Wormtail.
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