After Sherlock finished speaking about the house-elf Kreacher, Sirius fell into silence.
Harry looked at him with some concern.
Hermione bowed her head in thought.
The other young wizards looked at each other uncertainly.
After a while, whether or not Sirius had actually taken Sherlock's words to heart remained unclear. In any case, he walked alone to another part of the room.
That was where the tapestry Kreacher was trying so desperately to protect hung.
It covered the entire wall, appearing extraordinarily large.
Hermione tugged at Sherlock's sleeve, and everyone followed.
The tapestry looked very, very old, its colors faded, as though moths had eaten through it in several places.
However, judging purely by the material, it was of excellent quality—the golden thread embroidered on it still gleamed.
It depicted a family tree that spread like the branches of a great tree, tracing all the way back to medieval times.
With just one glance, Sherlock realized Kreacher hadn't been lying.
This thing had indeed been stored here for seven centuries.
At the top of the tapestry were embroidered large words.
[The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black]
"I used to be on here."
After a moment, Sirius suddenly spoke.
He pointed to a small, scorched hole at the bottom row of the family tree—it looked like a burn mark from a cigarette.
"Kreacher loves to mutter about this. after I ran away from home, my dear old mother burned me off—"
"You ran away from home?"
Sherlock looked at Sirius with great interest; he wasn't familiar with this part of the story.
"I was about sixteen that year—I'd had enough of the House of Black, so I went to Harry's father's house."
Sirius seemed to sink into distant memories, his eyes showing a nostalgic look as he turned to Harry.
"I told you before, your grandparents were very understanding. They practically treated me as a second son.
So, whenever school was on holiday, I'd temporarily live at your dad's house, until I was seventeen and found my own place.
At that time, my uncle Alphard left me a considerable amount of gold galleons, look at the row above me—well, his surname was also Black, so he was actually my uncle."
Everyone looked up following Sirius's gaze and indeed saw another burned-off mark there.
Sirius laughed self-deprecatingly.
"I suppose that's probably why he was also removed from here.
In any case, after that, I started taking care of myself.
However, Mr. and Mrs. Potter always welcomed me to their house for dinner every Saturday."
"I don't understand."
Hermione asked somewhat perplexedly, "But Mr. Black, why would you—"
Although Mrs. Black's portrait's attitude had already revealed some clues.
She still didn't understand what kind of family environment could cause a boy of only sixteen to run away from home.
You must know that while the Dursleys had treated Harry terribly, even Harry had never thought of doing such a thing.
What was even more outrageous was that Sirius's parents hadn't cared at all?
And after death, the portrait left behind still attacked him like this?
What kind of parents were these!
"You want to ask why I ran away from home?"
Sirius smiled bitterly. "Because I hated all of them, except for those who were removed from the family.
My parents and the others were fanatically obsessed with pure blood.
They believed that as members of the House of Black, they were born noble.
They hated me too, thought I was a rebel, thought I had tarnished the supreme glory of the House of Black."
"Another group of victims of blood purity supremacy."
Sherlock couldn't help but shake his head. "You win, win, win—until you've lost everything."
Among the pure-blood families Sherlock knew, the Malfoys were like this.
Now it seemed the House of Black was no better, perhaps even worse.
Although Draco Malfoy was like that, judging from his father Lucius Malfoy's behavior, he hadn't completely bought into bloodline supremacy and still knew how to weigh pros and cons.
But the House of Black, well, that went without saying.
Sherlock had read Cantankerus Nott's Pure-Blood Directory long ago, so he already had some understanding of the Black family.
But through this family tree and Sirius's description, Sherlock obtained even more information.
He took the initiative to ask. "Does that mean—you also have a brother who's already dead?"
Hearing Sherlock's words, everyone present, including Harry, was startled.
"Yes, my foolish brother, too weak in character—he actually believed that nonsense about the House of Black being born noble."
Sirius nodded, smiling bitterly as he extended a finger to point at a name at the very bottom of the family tree.
Following Sirius's direction, everyone saw a name written right next to the already-removed Sirius.
[Regulus Black (1961-1979)]
"Though he was my brother," a complex look flashed through Sirius's eyes, "people kept reminding me that this son was far superior to me."
"For you to say such a thing, so he joined the Death Eaters?"
Everyone except Sirius and Hermione looked at Sherlock in surprise.
It wasn't strange that Sherlock could spot at a glance that Sirius had a deceased brother.
Although this family tree was densely packed with numerous people, as long as one had the patience to look slowly, even they could find the relevant information.
It would just take more time.
But to directly state that Sirius's brother was a Death Eater seemed a bit much.
Harry couldn't help but exclaim.
"Sherlock, you're joking!"
"I'm afraid not, Harry. Sherlock is absolutely right, that stupid idiot—"
Sirius noticed the surprised expressions on everyone's faces and showed a hint of impatience. "You've all seen the state of this house.
Don't you understand yet what kind of wizards my family members were?"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Black. This question may be somewhat offensive, but were your—were your parents also Death Eaters?"
"Offensive? No, that's not offensive at all, Miss Hermione."
Sirius said contemptuously.
"Though they weren't Death Eaters, they thought Voldemort's ideology was correct."
Hearing that name, the Weasley children all shuddered. Sirius ignored them and continued.
"Because before Voldemort rose to power, they already advocated maintaining wizard bloodline purity, getting rid of Muggle-born people, and letting pure-bloods hold power.
For instance, Araminta Meliflua, my mother's cousin—she tried to force through a Ministry of Magic law making Muggle-hunting legal.
People like them weren't unique among wizards. Before Voldemort revealed his true face, many people thought his views on certain matters were correct.
However, when Voldemort actually gained power, these people discovered he would stop at nothing to obtain power, and did many horrifying things.
At that point, they became cowardly and retreated.
But I imagine my parents must have thought Regulus joining from the start made him a brave little hero."
"So—your brother was killed by an Auror?"
Harry asked uncertainly.
"No, not by an Auror. He was killed by Voldemort.
Or, more likely, killed at Voldemort's instigation."
When mentioning his brother, Sirius's voice became somewhat somber.
"I doubt Regulus was important enough to require Voldemort to personally eliminate him.
From what I learned after his death, he'd gotten in very, very deep.
Knowing him as I did, he must have been frightened by what he was being asked to do, so he tried to back out.
Unfortunately, this wasn't an ordinary job. You can't just submit a resignation letter to Voldemort and call it done.
Either—serve for life, or—face certain death."
Sirius's words made everyone fall silent.
Sherlock also nodded slightly.
That said, Voldemort's standing had dropped another notch in his mind.
He truly didn't understand how someone like this had managed to rule the magical world in the first place.
Just from what he'd learned so far, the man couldn't even be considered an excellent leader.
On the contrary, Tom Riddle from fifty years ago in the diary showed more leadership qualities.
He really didn't know how he'd ended up becoming such a brainless version of himself.
Just then, Mrs. Holmes pushed open the door and walked in.
Her hands held a tray piled with many sandwiches and cakes.
"Children, come eat something!" she said to everyone with a smile.
Ron was the first to run toward her. Then the others crowded around her, vying to grab food.
Only Sherlock, Harry, and Hermione remained by Sirius's side without moving.
Sirius leaned in closer, examining the tapestry more carefully.
After a moment, he pointed at a name and introduced it to the three.
"I haven't looked at this thing in years. This is Phineas Nigellus, my great-great-grandfather. See?
Harry nodded unconsciously.
Hermione immediately caught on. "He was also Headmaster of Hogwarts! I saw his name in Hogwarts. A History."
"That's right, Hermione," Sirius smiled. "But he was the most unpopular headmaster in Hogwarts history."
"From a certain perspective, he was actually the most successful headmaster."
"Why do you say that, Sherlock?" Hermione asked curiously.
"During Phineas Nigellus's tenure as headmaster, there were no rifts between the four houses, and relations among all the school's teachers and students were very good.
Even between Gryffindor and Slytherin students, as long as they opposed Phineas, everyone would spontaneously form a united front.
One could say Phineas Nigellus Black, through his efforts alone, united all the school's professors and students firmly together.
This is something even Albus Dumbledore couldn't accomplish.
Of course, the book you read definitely wouldn't include this content."
Sirius couldn't help but laugh aloud. "Put that way, it's actually quite accurate, Sherlock."
"There's a portrait of him in the headmaster's office."
Sherlock showed a thoughtful expression. "That day when you came to the headmaster's office with us, he wanted to say something to you but was stopped by Professor McGonagall."
"There was such an incident?"
Sirius knew about Phineas having a portrait in the headmaster's office, but didn't know he'd missed this little episode. Hearing Sherlock mention it now naturally surprised him somewhat.
"He probably wanted to insult you." Sherlock said honestly.
"That's to be expected. He's always looked down on me and people like me who rebel."
Sirius sneered without surprise, then continued.
"There are countless people like him in the House of Black.
Besides the Araminta Meliflua I just mentioned, who tried to force through legislation making Muggle-hunting legal, there's my dear great-great-aunt Elladora—she started the family tradition of beheading house-elves when they got too old to carry tea trays and mounting their heads on the wall.
Of course, not everyone in this family was scum. But whenever the family produced a fairly decent person, they declared them disowned.
Like here is Phineas's sister Isla, because she married a Muggle.
And Phineas's child, another Phineas, removed for supporting Muggle rights.
My great-uncle Marius did nothing at all, but unfortunately, he was a Squib, so he still couldn't escape being removed.
And my uncle Alphard who funded me, as I mentioned earlier.
In our generation, besides me who ran away from home, there's also my favorite cousin Andromeda.
Look, Andromeda's sisters are all on here because they married lovely, respectable pure-blood wizards.
Only Andromeda married a Muggle-born: Ted Tonks, so—"
Sherlock looked at the tapestry on the wall with its burn holes one after another, and couldn't help but laugh coldly.
"Maintaining the so-called purity of your bloodline by removing 'blood traitors' from the family tree?
That sounds rather laughable, doesn't it?
Self-deception at its finest."
"Who says it isn't?"
Hearing Sherlock's words, Sirius smiled helplessly and shook his head, then made a shooting motion at the tapestry with his wand and laughed bitterly a few times.
But Harry and Hermione didn't laugh.
Just as Sherlock had said, all the people whose names Sirius had mentioned occupied positions on this tapestry that were scorched little circles.
They had all originally been members of the House of Black, but merely because of some ridiculous-sounding reasons, they'd been removed from the family.
How could such a family possibly generate any sense of belonging?
Just then, they were all drawn to several names simultaneously.
They were to the right of the scorch mark representing Andromeda, Sirius's favorite cousin whom he'd just mentioned.
There were several familiar names.
First was Narcissa Black.
Then a double strand of gold thread connected Narcissa Black to Lucius Malfoy.
Next, a single vertical gold thread extended from their names to the name Draco Malfoy.
"You—you're related to the Malfoys!"
At this moment, Harry couldn't help but cry out in surprise.
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