At Deek's word that he hadn't been able to buy the robes yet, Harry and I decided to stop by Gringotts first.
The glares from the goblins we passed on the way into the vault were piercing, but I had nothing to be ashamed of.
How would they know that I was the one who performed a security consultation at Gringotts?
I met their strange gazes with a confident one of my own, and the goblins furtively looked away.
In terms of finances, with the money from the Lestrange family, my original funds, and the support of the Black family combined, I didn't particularly need to withdraw any more money.
Still, since we had the key, Harry ought to at least see his family's fortune once.
"Ah, you must be Harry Potter. Please follow me."
Guided by a somewhat familiar goblin, we headed towards Vault 781. This bank hasn't changed a bit, even after I acted as their consultant.
They'll have to get robbed one more time to come to their senses.
Meanwhile, I was staring intently at the goblin, trying to remember where I had seen him before, and then I found the answer and snapped my fingers.
"Ah, the banker who guided me that time. Your name was, I'm sure, Griph..."
"It's Griphook, sir. You were the customer who requested one hundred years' worth of transaction records last time."
"Ah, that's right. I had some business then, but anyway, I apologize for the trouble."
"Not at all. That is what a banker does."
The goblin's face, full of annoyance, seemed to disagree completely.
In any case, the mine cart rattled along the tracks and soon reached Harry's vault.
Harry, who had thought there wouldn't be much money, couldn't help but let his jaw drop at the enormous amount of gold coins inside the vault.
Wow, this is a bit surprising even for me. My own vault had a considerable amount of money thanks to Deek diligently selling Ardeura's fallen feathers for ninety years, but Harry's vault was on another level.
I looked at the vault, which could have filled a small swimming pool, and tapped the shoulder of Harry, who was still staring with his mouth agape.
"Harry, your parents left you quite a lot, didn't they? Congratulations on becoming rich."
Finally coming to his senses, Harry said to me with a serious expression.
"Master, would you like to have this?"
"What? Harry, are you feeling alright?"
"But, if it weren't for you, Master, I would still be at the Dursleys' without knowing anything about magic. Then I would never have received an inheritance like this..."
Hmm. I'm not so sure. Even if it wasn't me, Albus probably would have taken Harry out of that house and brought him to Hogwarts eventually.
In any case, I gently placed a hand on the top of Harry's head.
Though we were both the same physical age of eleven, I had always been tall, so I was already a head taller than Harry, making it possible.
"Harry, what do you take me for? This amount of money, it's the same to me whether I have it or not."
Actually, no matter how much money this is, it's less than what I took from the Lestrange family. Seriously. The money I took from the Lestranges is about twice this amount.
Since they went to Azkaban, they had no use for it, so it just kept piling up.
Harry's sentiment was commendable, but there was no way I would get excited over this amount of a child's pocket money.
Hearing my words, Harry's face fell a little.
It was obvious he felt that way because he thought there was nothing he could do for me.
He still hasn't shaken off the trauma from his childhood, and he has these moments of low self-esteem.
The answer in times like these was simple.
You just have to roll him in the dirt so hard that he has no time to think such negative thoughts.
Then, he will come to love himself for having endured the training, and his self-esteem will rise.
And what if his self-esteem drops even further because it's too hard?
Then you roll him in the dirt even more. In the end, his self-esteem will rise.
If Harry had heard this, he would have tried to force a happy expression on his face, but what could he do? It was already too late.
Seeing my benevolent smile, Harry felt a sudden chill run down his spine, but he tried his best to ignore it.
"Then, since this is mine, can I spend it as I please?"
If Albus or another adult had been here, they would have naturally stopped him.
Unfortunately for him, the only one here was me.
"Of course. Money is something that comes and goes."
Once Harry gained enough skill to be called my disciple, money would naturally follow. By robbing Gringotts... no, wait. That's a crime.
In any case, the methods were endless.
"Well then, see you next time."
"Goodbye, Griphook."
"Goodbye, sirs."
Harry, grinning, packed as much gold as he needed into a bag, and we left Gringotts.
Just in time, Deek seemed to be on his way back from buying the custom-made robes at the shop, and we were able to meet him at the entrance.
"Deek, what took you so long? Ah, and don't bang your head."
"Master, I'm sorry! It's because Deek is incompetent! The boy from the Malfoy family was making a scene because he couldn't buy his robes, so I was delayed."
"The Malfoy family?"
Where had I heard that before? Malfoy. Malfoy. I'm sure I've seen it somewhere.
As I was racking my brain, Deek, who had become anxious, looked around and came closer to whisper in my ear.
"You know, the owner of the vault that Master destroyed!"
"Ah."
I suddenly felt a prickle in my already-smooth conscience. Don't tell me he's in a position where he can't even buy robes because of me?
Should I help him out a little? I thought for a moment and asked Deek.
"So what happened?"
"When he came out of the shop, a wizard who seemed to be the boy's father came and there was an argument. I'm sure he said something like, 'How dare a shopkeeper doubt the Malfoy family!'"
The stabbing feeling in my heart vanished completely.
Yep, it seems they don't need any help!
"Right, it seems it's none of our business. Anyway, let's hurry up and get some dinner."
Once we had moved to a place with fewer wizards' eyes on us, Ardeura, who had flown off somewhere, descended from the sky and landed on my shoulder.
Chir-r-r-up!
After leaving Diagon Alley, we headed for another secret place in London, Number 12, Grimmauld Place.
Number 12, Grimmauld Place, the historic great mansion of the Black family, hidden by the Fidelius Charm.
But for those who have already been inside once, it is a house they can visit at any time.
We could have used Apparition to go directly into the house, but of course, that would be rude, so we took the conventional route and knocked on the front door.
Knock, knock.
"Sirius, we're here!"
Not long after the sound echoed, we heard a clatter from inside, and then Sirius opened the door and came out.
"Ah, Sirius! It's been a long time!"
"Harry! Goodness, how long has it been!"
"How long has it been? It's been three months. It hasn't been that long."
"Would you mind not taking a conventional greeting so literally? It's awkward for me."
Sirius, who was still officially maintaining his 'dead' status as his charges had not yet been cleared, greeted us enthusiastically.
Because of his status, he couldn't leave the house unless it was for something important, so even though he was enjoying a luxurious life with his overflowing money, he was no different from being under house arrest.
Therefore, for us, who knew his situation and would visit him like this from time to time, we were very welcome guests.
After a brief reunion greeting at the entrance, we went inside.
The Black family manor, which had changed 180 degrees from when we first came.
Though it was a mansion still filled with an interior of black and dark green, as if the spirit of Slytherin remained, it no longer looked like a dead house.
The dust that had filled every corner was now neatly cleaned, and the bizarre creatures that had filled one corner of the house had long since been used as my experimental subjects... no, my teaching materials.
Harry and I had, of course, helped Sirius clean the mansion, but the one who had made the greatest contribution was, after all, the house-elf, Kreacher.
A few years ago, while helping Sirius clean the mansion, there were some places that were so full of all sorts of dark artifacts that we couldn't even make out the structure of the room.
In order to clean such places, someone who knew the mansion well was essential, so just in case, I had asked Kreacher for help.
"...Yes, I will help you, by all means."
But strangely, Kreacher, who wouldn't even pretend to listen to Sirius's and Harry's words unless they were orders, and would do his work half-heartedly, had worked with great enthusiasm after hearing my request!
As Sirius had guaranteed, once Kreacher started to work hard, his skills were tremendous.
In various fields, such as house cleaning, bookkeeping, simple household spells, and cooking, I had thought that there was no house-elf who could match Deek, but seeing Kreacher, I had to admit that my thinking had been complacent.
Kreacher, if nothing else, was a better cook than Deek!
After that, I developed a small affection for the old house-elf and we would sometimes talk.
In particular, Kreacher, who already knew that I was a person from the 19th century, perhaps from hearing it from Headmaster Black, (Sirius still didn't know the exact truth) very much enjoyed it when I told him stories about Headmaster Black's other house-elf, Scrope.
"Come to think of it, Kreacher, have you ever seen Scrope?"
"...You know of Scrope?"
"Ah, he was a good house-elf. He sometimes worked as a secretary for Headmaster Phineas Black."
And he was a very good source of information.
Whenever I couldn't get Headmaster Black's cooperation on various matters where I needed the headmaster's information, I would get it from Scrope. He was a truly grateful friend.
A smile played on my lips as I recalled those days.
I don't know how he interpreted my smile, but after that, Kreacher would sometimes approach me first and greet me politely. Not only me, but Harry as well.
He was still cold to Sirius.
In any case, as if he had heard that we were coming today, the kitchen of the Black family manor was filled with the smell of cooking for the first time in a while.
Seeing this, Sirius clicked his tongue and said.
"My goodness. Sometimes I don't know if that house-elf is my house-elf or yours. He's never cooked so diligently for me, not even once."
Kreacher, who was bringing out the food, glared at Sirius and said.
"Sirius... Master. Kreacher would also prefer it if the noble and dignified wizard, Master Aisen, were his master, rather than a traitor to the family."
Kreacher dragged out his words as if the fact that he had to add the word 'master' after Sirius's name was too painful.
Sirius, who must have disliked the sight, spat out.
"Kreacher, shut up."
At Sirius's irritated words, Kreacher carefully placed the food he had brought in front of me and Harry and began to bang his head.
Harry said in shock.
"Sirius, make Kreacher stop!"
"Ah, Harry. Don't worry too much. House-elves are just like this. Kreacher, that's enough."
Only then did Kreacher stop self-harming and return to the kitchen.
Harry looked at Sirius with a sullen expression and said.
"Sirius, I've told you before, but it's better not to treat house-elves so harshly."
"Oh, of course, my boy. Who would want to make another living being self-harm? But what can I do when house-elves are just made that way?"
Kee-roo-rook!
Ardeura cried out from her perch in the living room as if in agreement with Harry's words.
Deek was cleaning the messy house next to Ardeura. After all, Ardeura was close with the house-elf Deek.
Seeing that the meal was all set, I tapped my cup and said.
"Everyone, let's stop the other talk. We won't be able to see each other for at least half a year, and at most a year, once we go to Hogwarts, so let's all celebrate Harry's birthday."
That's right. Today was July 31st. It was Harry's birthday.
Meanwhile, Kreacher, who was bringing the food he had cooked from the kitchen, flinched at those words.
...At least half a year, at most a year, they won't be able to see each other? Does that mean that great wizard won't be able to come to the Black family manor for a while?
If so, it was time for Kreacher to make a decision.
Remembering something he had hidden deep in the closet of his room, Kreacher spoke to Aisen.
"...Master Aisen, would you have a word with Kreacher after the meal? Oh, Master Harry, you too. No, I mean, without that worthless master."
It was time to destroy this detestable locket.