Chapter 283: Lisa Stewart
Phineas was in disbelief. How could Lisa die like this? She had been by his side for nearly ten years, enduring countless battles, both large and small. Not long ago, she had been gravely injured protecting him—but she had survived that. How could she be gone now?
He had planned for her to eventually take over the operations of the Black family. When Phineas was younger, it was Lisa and Kreacher, disguised by Polyjuice Potion, who had managed those responsibilities. Now, despite how surreal it felt, the truth was clear: Lisa, who had cared for him, protected him, and even teased him from time to time, was gone.
Lisa Stewart, a pure-blood witch from a modest family, had once been a student at Ravenclaw House at Hogwarts. During a summer holiday, she was attacked by a werewolf. Though she survived, she had been bitten and turned. A scar remained on her face—a reminder that some wounds, especially those received just before transformation, never fully healed.
Seen as a disgrace by her own family, Lisa dropped out of Hogwarts under pressure from other students' parents. At fourteen, with no home, no school, and no money, she survived in the shadows of the wizarding world, hiding in the black market alleys. During this time, she caught the attention of several Dark wizards whose intentions were sinister.
That year, Phineas—only six years old—visited that same alley for the first time, accompanied by Kreacher. There, he encountered a girl with a scarred face, torn robes, and hunted by dark wizrads.
Phineas rescued Lisa. Afterward, she became his personal maid, though he had little need for one. Still, Lisa—haunted by rejection and isolation—needed a reason to stay. Phineas gave her one, and even granted her access to parts of the Black family's library.
By the time she came of age three years later, Lisa was Phineas's assistant, helping him build the foundations of his own empire. Under her management, Phineas's influence extended across Europe, much of America, and parts of Asia and Africa. He could rely on her completely.
She also used the Wolfsbane Potion Phineas provided to stabilize her condition, gathering other wandering werewolves into a loyal force—shielding Phineas many times in deadly encounters.
At twelve, Phineas led a team to crush the vampire reformists. The following year, he eliminated them entirely. Not long ago, Lisa had shielded him from another deadly blow, once again saving his life.
Following his orders, she had worked closely with Sirius Black to implement Phineas's long-term plans. But now, that older sister figure—loyal, brave, and indispensable—was gone, taken by a surprise attack.
Phineas exhaled deeply, suppressing the pain of Lisa's death. He turned to Puff, the house-elf who had delivered the letter, and to Dumbledore, who stood silently across from him.
"Do you know who did this?" he asked.
Dumbledore shook his head. "We're not sure, but it was likely the Death Eaters. With Sirius and the Blacks assisting the Order of the Phoenix, several of their strongholds have been compromised."
Puff hesitated, glancing at Dumbledore. But bound by the house-elf contract, she finally spoke.
"Master, according to our sources, it was Agus Parkinson who struck the final blow, and the one behind it all was Walton McNeill."
Phineas nodded slightly. "Were they acting alone? Or were their families involved?"
Dumbledore observed the change in Phineas. The grief was still there, but it had been buried beneath something cold and dangerous.
Puff answered, "We believe the Parkinson and McNeill families both have strong Death Eater affiliations. It wasn't just those two involved in the ambush."
Phineas was silent for a moment, then said, "If there's more, say it now."
Puff bowed slightly. "Based on Miss Lisa's last reports, we suspect the Council of Elders may also be involved."
"The Council of Elders?" Phineas repeated. He wasn't surprised. These were the same people who had brought about the extinction of Slytherin and Hufflepuff's descendants. They were capable of anything—including targeting House Black.
"Understood. You may go," Phineas said.
Puff vanished.
Phineas turned back to Dumbledore. "Professor, I need a few days' leave. I'm going to see Sirius... and to lay Lisa to rest."
Dumbledore hesitated. He had an uneasy feeling about letting Phineas go. Everything seemed reasonable—Sirius was his family, and Lisa was like one. But it was too reasonable. That was what troubled him.
Phineas saw the doubt in Dumbledore's eyes. Rising, he said coldly, "Professor, you know I can leave Hogwarts whether you permit it or not."
At the door, he paused without turning back. "Professor, I've always respected you. Please don't leave Hogwarts. And don't interfere in matters of the magical world."
It was no longer advice—it was a warning.
Dumbledore lifted his hand as if to stop him but let it fall with a sigh. He knew Phineas too well. He was not one to forgive. He would not let grief fester—he would strike.
On his way out of the Headmaster's office, Phineas passed familiar faces from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Normally bold, none dared approach him now. The fury in his expression and the force of his magical presence were enough to drive them away.
Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape had both received the news about Sirius. Yet their reactions could not have been more different. One chose to let Phineas do as he pleased, while the other wanted to reach out and offer comfort. As expected, it was Professor McGonagall who sought to speak with him, her concern evident behind her strict demeanor. Professor Snape, on the other hand, remained silent, watching from the shadows with unreadable eyes.
Professor McGonagall tried to stop him on the seventh-floor staircase.
"Phineas, I—"
"Professor," he cut her off, "I'm going to see Sirius. We'll talk when I return, alright?"
Without waiting for her reply, he turned and left.
"Phineas!" a voice called again—it was Astoria. She must have heard the news from her father.
"What are you up to?" she asked, worried.
Phineas offered a faint smile. "Nothing much. I just need to be away for a few days. Move to the Room of Requirement, and watch yourself in Umbridge's class. I've embarrassed her—and the Ministry."
He walked into the Slytherin common room and into his dormitory. His suitcase, left from brewing potions for Astoria, was still there. He picked it up, then snapped his fingers.
Puff appeared immediately, took his hand, and with another snap, Disapparated them from Hogwarts.
Astoria opened the door just as they vanished. Too late. She stood frozen, then returned to her dormitory to pack her things, silently obeying Phineas's request.
Phineas reappeared in central London, not far from St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Hidden behind the facade of a derelict department store, the hospital could only be accessed by speaking to a mannequin in the front window.
Phineas stood before it and said, "I'm here to see Sirius Black."
The dummy nodded slightly. He stepped through the glass and into the bustling reception hall.
He walked straight to the desk. "I'm here to see Sirius Black."
A plump, blonde witch scanned a list. "Second floor, third door on the left."
He climbed the stairs to the second floor—the Magical Creature-Induced Injuries Ward. The sign on the third door read:
"Danger: Sirius Black – Seriously injured and unconscious"
Below was a card: Healer-in-Charge: Hippocrates Smethwyk. Trainee Healer: Augustus Pye.
Phineas frowned and entered.
The room was small but sunlit. Sirius was the only patient, likely an arrangement made out of respect for his lineage. Lupin was asleep beside him—he must have stayed all night.
Sirius lay motionless, bandaged from head to toe. The extent of his injuries was staggering.
Phineas left quietly and returned to the front desk.
"I need to claim Lisa Stewart's body."
The witch didn't even look up. "Basement morgue."
Phineas descended. He had braced himself for this, especially after seeing Sirius's condition.
But when he saw Lisa's body—he lost control.
Her body had been severed into three parts: head, torso, and lower body. Though magically preserved, the scars, wounds, and mutilations told the story. She had been a werewolf—her wounds should have healed. But these injuries were inflicted too fast, too cruelly.
It was torture.
He could almost hear the Death Eaters' laughter as they tore her down.
Phineas inhaled sharply, raised his wand, and gently reassembled her body with careful spells.
"Puff," he whispered, "Take Lisa to her manor. Prepare a coffin."
Puff nodded and disappeared with the body.
Phineas remained still for a long time, then turned toward the exit—his grief turning into grim, focused rage.