When the door to the Black family mansion finally closed, Sirius's composure vanished instantly. He paced anxiously back and forth in the long, dark porch, trying to calm his breathing.
There must be something fishy about that golden cup.
The eleven years spent in Azkaban were eleven years of utter darkness.
But at the same time, many Dark secrets were no longer secrets here. When he finally regained his life and breathed the air of freedom, certain impressive fragments suddenly awakened in his mind during countless numb nights.
His cell was right next to Bellatrix's. Sometimes he would hear her cursing and threatening something frantically as the Dementors went about to torture the prisoners.
"My master's golden cup, I am keeping it safe… As long as it is there, he will not die, and he will definitely come back to me…"
The Dementors were too busy sucking the prisoners' pleasure to care about their ravings. When the wizards occasionally came to inspect the place, Bella kept her mouth tightly shut, uttering not a word about the golden cup.
He initially thought she was talking nonsense. How many of the prisoners in Azkaban were not mentally unstable?
But even madwomen sometimes spoke the truth; a certain confidence occasionally flashed in her manic eyes, which was quite intriguing.
Wizards only knew that the torment of Dementors could dig out the deepest darkness in people's hearts. Few people understood that many real and vague memories would be magnified infinitely in this process and become exceptionally clear.
Sirius knew, because he had experienced it firsthand.
Bellatrix's Occlumency was remarkable; she could have buried this secret with her. But nothing compared to the impact of the Dementors.
The only question was, was this just her delusional madness, or was it actually true?
With this in mind, he probed Narcissa with his words, never expecting that the golden cup was a real object.
Even if there were only a tiny spark that could help Voldemort make a comeback, he would extinguish that spark. He had to get his hands on the golden cup, no matter the cost. Sirius stared grimly towards the doorway, a resolute look on his weary face.
"Sirius!" His godson Harry's call pulled him back to reality. Sirius snapped out of his reverie and found themselves sitting in the spotless underground dining room.
All the silver cutlery was polished to a gleaming shine, and the porcelain cups, plates, and bowls were so clean they could be used as mirrors.
A long wooden dining table was neatly set with a pile of delicious dishes: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, lamb chops, sausages, roast potatoes... At the other end of the table were apple pie, chocolate muffins, fried jam doughnuts, and rice pudding.
Dobby the house-elf had somehow acquired a brand-new, snow-white chef's uniform, complete with a tall chef's hat, and was standing obsequiously by the dining table watching them.
"Dobby, you are so capable!" Harry exclaimed with delight, grinning from ear to ear. "Why do you not come and eat with us?"
Dobby looked astonished. He bowed and said with teary eyes, "Oh, great Harry Potter! Your praise is the greatest reward for Dobby! Dobby never imagined he could eat at the same table as Harry Potter! This is too much for Dobby, Dobby cannot accept it…" He blew his nose and disappeared with a loud pop.
"You scared it away." Draco reluctantly put down a book—the one Sirius used to smash the silverware, Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy. He glanced one last time at the Peverell symbol drawn in the book: a figure consisting of a vertical line, a triangle, and a circle.
Harry paid no attention to the book Draco was reading; he was only puzzled by Dobby's behaviour. "I just invited him to dinner, and he acted like he was offended..."
"That is just how house-elves are; they are used to serving wizarding families. They are ashamed of pleasure." Sirius casually cut a large piece of steak with an air of elegance, which reminded Draco of his own mother. "Look at Kreacher; even though my mother has been dead for many years, he is still loyal to her."
"Why not let him leave?" Harry asked. He had heard Dobby say that house-elves could leave wizarding families by being given clothes by their owners.
"He knows too many of the Black family's secrets. I cannot just let him leave like this." Sirius took a sip of his drink with a gloomy expression and said sarcastically, "Besides, he does not want to leave either. His greatest wish is to become a 'glorious' ornament on the Black family's wall after he dies, just like his ancestors."
Draco and Harry exchanged a glance. They both thought of the row of menacing house-elves' heads on the wall of the staircase.
"Too bloody," Harry muttered, taking a bite of the sizzling sausage.
"You are as kind-hearted as your mother." Sirius smiled faintly at him.
"Harry's mother was very popular at Hogwarts during her school days, was she not?" Draco asked casually.
"Of course. Lily Evans was the most beautiful girl at Hogwarts back in the day, the most popular girl." Sirius swirled the whisky with ice floating in it, still thinking about where that golden cup came from.
"I heard she and Professor Snape were childhood friends," Draco said casually.
Thud! A large piece of turkey meat fell from Harry's mouth onto his plate, and he looked at Draco in surprise.
"Snotty-nosed chap? That greasy little bat? I am curious how someone like him can become a professor… He deserved to be dumped." Sirius stopped eating and said contemptuously, "Do you know what he called Lily? Mudblood!"
"I would wager he regrets it terribly," Draco said nonchalantly, seemingly oblivious to Harry's stunned expression, as he poured Sirius a little more wine.
Sirius Black, whatever he was thinking, was undoubtedly in a rare trance. And he clearly knew Professor Snape, whether his words were biased or not. This was a golden opportunity for Draco to study Professor Snape, and perhaps even uncover the motives and thoughts behind some of Professor Snape's actions.
"Of course he came back crying and begging Lily for forgiveness, looking all pitiful. But Lily was heartbroken by him," Sirius said gleefully. "If it were me, I would not forgive him either."
Draco saw a look of utter disbelief on Harry's face.
"I would wager he really does not like you, does he?" Sirius suddenly tilted his head and asked his godson with an elegant air. Even after spending so long in Azkaban, his every move still carried an air of nobility.
Harry nodded silently at his godfather, who had made such a startling statement.
"He hates your father. And you look exactly like him. Only your eyes resemble your mother's." Sirius said defiantly, patting his godson's shoulder. "Do not be afraid of him. If he upsets you again, tell me, and I will back you up."
Harry, looking distracted, gave a hesitant reply.
Draco had not wanted to ask this so openly. But the opportunity was too good to pass up, and if he did not ask now, who knew when he would see Sirius Black again?
His words provided Draco with further evidence—Professor Snape liked Harry's mother very much, or at least used to, and did something foolish that caused him to lose Lily Evans's favour.
When they finished their afternoon tea, Narcissa finally returned. She was pale and carrying a package that seemed to contain something round and plump.
Harry and Draco's voices could be faintly heard from the third floor; they were directing Dobby to clean a bedroom filled with clutter. Sirius, meanwhile, led Narcissa into the sitting room on the second floor.
"This is more like it." Narcissa looked around at the clean and bright surroundings and finally agreed to sit down.
"Where is the stuff?" Sirius asked warily.
Narcissa waved her wand, and the sitting room door slammed shut with a loud bang.
There was still some dust flying around behind the door.
"It seems the cleaning was not thorough enough," Narcissa thought.
"The thing is here." She said, frowning, and shook the package in her hand with a serious expression.
He pushed a signed parchment in front of Narcissa and asked her to verify its authenticity.
"No problem," she said after looking at it for a long time.
Sirius reached out to take the package. Narcissa, however, moved the package closer to her.
"Tell me." She stared intently at him.
"This is just a guess, but I reckon it is pretty close to the truth..." he said uneasily.
"Tell me," she said sternly.
"He is an Animagus." A complex smile appeared on Sirius's handsome, expressionless face.
"Of course I know he is an Animagus," Narcissa said impatiently. "All wizards know that he was caught by my son whilst he was in the form of a rat."
"Is it not obvious? Use your pretty but useless brain!" Sirius said in an even more impatient tone. "Let me remind you, Dementors are only interested in human emotions and thoughts, not the thoughts of a rat!"
Narcissa stood there stunned for a long time. Her eyes went from impatience to confusion, and then to a sense of understanding.
"I have been completely honest with you," Sirius said bluntly. "Give it to me!"
Narcissa, her face stiff, silently opened the purse in her hand, revealing a solid gold cup before them. The cup had two finely crafted solid gold handles, and its surface was adorned with exquisite carvings.
"Do not tell anyone what happened today." Narcissa gave him a warning look, put the transfer agreement into her bag, and went upstairs to find her beloved son Draco without looking back.
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