[64] Canvas and Curse

Sirius scoffed. "A hero? What did he do to deserve that title?"

Perhaps sensing Sirius's intention, Walburga remained silent, staring at Kreacher.

Kreacher wanted to argue but swallowed his words. "I can't say! Master Regulus said I can't tell anyone —"

Sirius's ears twitched. He turned to look outside where two children were playfully fighting.

"Reg! You're too weak! Take this!"

"Aaaaah, you bastard brother!"

Nine-year-old Sirius, riding a children's broom, knocked Regulus off his smaller broom. Regulus stood up from the lawn, his chubby face puffed with anger. Sirius laughed and pounced on him, tickling him until he couldn't be angry anymore.

The two children gazed at the high, wide sky and laughed happily.

Sirius's gaze shifted. The children in the distance blurred; the once lush garden gradually became dilapidated.

"Kreacher. In the name of the sole heir of the Black family, I order you to tell me what Regulus entrusted to you." His tone was condescending — much like the nobles Hall knew.

Kreacher trembled. He glanced at Walburga's portrait, hoping she would deny Sirius the right to speak. But she slowly nodded, confirming Sirius's authority.

Kreacher's lips twitched. "Can you really take Master Regulus home?" He still didn't believe Sirius — he looked at Hall.

Hall nodded.

Two explosions. Kreacher disappeared and reappeared, moving with incredible speed. He tremblingly handed something to Hall — a pendant box, extremely valuable.

Sirius looked at the locket with suspicion. He couldn't see anything wrong with it.

Hall didn't take it directly. He took out a wooden box. Before the holiday, he had made Helena pour half a box of venom into it — intended for testing, now perfect for the locket.

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"Put it in."

Kreacher placed the locket into the box. Sirius immediately noticed that as the locket touched the pool of green liquid, a piercing scream came from within — a male voice. Hall swiftly closed the lid.

"Give this to Dumbledore." Hall handed the box to Sirius. "I know you have a way to contact him."

Sirius stared at the box. The material completely blocked the scream. He took it, glanced at Kreacher, then turned to Hall. He wasn't stupid — he had a basic understanding of Hall's operating principles.

"Bring Reg back. I'll give him as many Galleons as I want."

"I will bring him back." Hall was equally serious.

Walburga and Kreacher looked at the two men with utter bewilderment.

"How many?" Sirius asked directly. "I mean all of them."

Hall pondered. "I don't want Galleons."

Sirius's brow twitched.

"The Black family owns a few shops in Diagon Alley. I'm not greedy — just one." Hall held up one finger.

Hall had asked the twins to scout things out. They were happy to help — they wanted to open their own shop someday. Unfortunately, almost ninety percent of the shops in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade were owned by nobles. The remaining ten percent were in undesirable corner locations. Hall had once thought the twins' success in opening their shop was linked to the war — nobles sold property cheaply to protect themselves. But in peacetime, no wizard was willing to sell. Rents were outrageous.

During his search, Hall discovered that the shop that best met his requirements was owned by the Black family. What a coincidence. This was one of the main reasons Hall was so eager to help find Regulus.

Sirius readily agreed. The Black family owned seven shops in Diagon Alley, each in a prime location. While Sirius was away, his cousin Narcissa — Draco's mother — had deposited the rent into the Black vault. Sirius had seen the Galleons piled high. He ate and drank at Hogwarts daily; losing one shop's rent wasn't a big deal.

Walburga finally seemed to understand what they were talking about and was about to speak when Sirius cut her off.

"Although I don't like this Weasley, I have to say — I've never seen him fail to do something he agreed to. You can't ask someone to do something without giving them a reward."

Hall felt the reason Sirius obeyed was his last words: "Now Black is in charge. You're dead."

Hall and Kreacher agreed to go to the cave the next day. Kreacher remembered the location and could teleport directly. But the poison was a problem. Should he trick Kreacher again?

Hall shook his head. Kreacher was old and grey. He had to respect his elders. But whoever prepared the poison should drink it.

Since it was Voldemort's poison, it wouldn't hurt for the fragment to help out.

Hall clenched his fist. Brilliant idea. He would go back that night and search the garden, hoping the fragment hadn't been buried too deep by the gnomes.

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