With Dumbledore's disappearance, two parchment envelopes sealed with the Ministry of Magic's wax insignia were tossed onto the table.
Link picked them up and opened them. Inside were two beautifully decorated sheets of parchment, intricately engraved and clearly listing the results of his and Emily's previous O.W.L. exams.
Link's results were more or less what he'd expected. Except for subjects like the History of Magic and Astronomy, which he hadn't put much effort into, he had earned nearly all O's (Outstanding).
Emily's were even better.
Thanks to Mr. Victoria's disciplined teaching methods, she had achieved straight O's across nearly every elective she had taken.
She was one of those rare geniuses that appeared at Hogwarts only once every few decades, someone who, after graduation, was guaranteed to be recruited by the Ministry of Magic and enjoy a bright career.
"Not bad. Once the new term starts, you'll both be eligible to join my N.E.W.T. classes. The advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms courses will also be open to you. And if either of you is interested in alchemy, you can apply to Dumbledore, he'll find someone to teach you."
Snape stood behind Link, nodding as he spoke.
He seemed very satisfied with their performance, even suggesting that they have their score sheets framed.
That was what most young wizards did when they received their O.W.L. results, because even though O.W.L.s weren't as prestigious as N.E.W.T.s, they still held a great deal of value when it came to finding a job after graduation.
But Link and Emily didn't care. Calmly, they slipped their score sheets into their magically expanded pockets, planning to take them home later to show Mrs. Flamel and Mr. Victoria.
At their current level, they didn't need exam results to prove themselves. The only reason they cared at all was simply to make their parents happy.
Moody, the former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, clearly wasn't interested in their exam results either. While Link and Emily were looking them over, he went straight to the door.
The parlor doors suddenly flew open.
That startled Sirius Black, who had been eavesdropping outside with his ear pressed against the door. He lost his balance and nearly fell headfirst into Moody's chest.
"Cough! Cough!"
After barely regaining his balance, Sirius gave a few awkward coughs. But when he saw Link and Snape conversing inside the parlor, his expression twisted into one of hostility.
The old Black house at 12 Grimmauld Place didn't have very good soundproofing, he had heard every word of Link and Dumbledore's earlier conversation.
Moody seemed to notice Sirius's growing agitation and stepped forward to block his view.
"Calm down. It's been settled," he said.
"Settled?!" Sirius hissed, his voice low but furious.
"He didn't promise us a damn thing! I'm telling you, we don't need their help! If it's Galleons we need, the Black family vaults at Gringotts are full! If it's influence, we've got Dumbledore himself! We can handle it on our own!"
Sirius growled, glaring at Link with pure dislike.
"Oh? Is that so?" Link raised an eyebrow from inside the room. "I suppose you thought the same thing when you went to that cave to steal the Horcrux, didn't you? How did that turn out?"
Sirius froze for a moment, then scowled and pushed past Moody into the room.
"That was just an accident! Someone leaked our plan, that's why we got ambushed by Voldemort's followers! Otherwise, we'd have succeeded long ago!"
"Leaked information, huh?" Snape sneered, stepping between Link and Sirius. "You're not trying to blame me, are you? I was in Germany at the time, I only heard about your little mission afterward."
A mocking grin twisted Snape's face. He would never miss a chance to get under Sirius's skin.
"You...!"
Sirius's face flushed red. Honestly, Snape was the first person who came to mind whenever he thought of a traitor, but even he couldn't deny that this time, Snape had nothing to do with it.
"Failures always find a thousand excuses for their failure," Link said quietly, shaking his head as he turned to leave the parlor with Emily.
Unlike Snape, he had no interest in arguing with an idiot like Sirius.
That dismissive attitude drove Sirius nearly mad. He clenched his teeth and reached out to grab Link, but before he could, a wand glowing with a dim, grayish light was suddenly pressed against his forehead.
It was Moody's.
With a cold, harsh look, Moody forced Sirius back a step and growled, "I'm warning you again, don't cause trouble. Keep your mouth shut. No one's going to mistake you for a mute."
Moody didn't like Link either, but he hated Sirius Black even more.
To him, Link Flamel clearly had his own hidden motives, but as an ally, Moody was willing to work with him. Because when their goals aligned, Link was the best kind of ally, smart, powerful, and capable of understanding your strategies and supporting them fully.
Sirius, on the other hand, was emotional, childish, and short-tempered, not to mention not particularly skilled in combat. He often made a mess of things and dragged everyone else down.
Moody even thought that Sirius's years in Azkaban had driven him half-mad, leaving him with this bizarre, unstable personality.
Honestly, if it weren't for Dumbledore insisting, and the fact that Sirius was funding the Order of the Phoenix, Moody would never have allowed such a liability to join them.
And now, after Dumbledore and Link had already come to an agreement, Sirius just had to blow up and risk ruining everything.
If Link got angry and decided to sabotage their cooperation, what then?
Step by step, Moody forced Sirius back into the parlor. Even Snape's snide laugh as he passed didn't make Sirius flare up again.
If it had been anyone else, Sirius would never have backed down. But this was Mad-Eye Moody, the legendary Auror himself.
Sirius knew full well that he couldn't win against Moody. He wasn't even sure he could last against him.
And it wasn't death Sirius feared, he'd never been afraid of dying, but Moody's cruel sense of humor. The man wouldn't kill him. No, he'd probably turn him into a skunk or a slug and humiliate him in front of Snape and Link.
That would be worse than death.
So, he gave in.
Snape was delighted.
The sight of Sirius being put in his place would stay in his mind for at least a year, providing him with endless amusement, he might even find himself waking up laughing about it in the middle of the night.
Link was just as pleased, though for a different reason. He had noticed that the Black family's house-elf, Kreacher, had been quietly waiting for him at the doorway the whole time.
"Honored guest," Kreacher croaked obsequiously, "I have already confirmed with the mistress. She told me to take good care of you."
His demeanor toward Link was nothing like the way he acted around Sirius and the others.
Smiling slightly, Link nodded. "In that case, why don't you take us to see the Black family tapestry? I've heard the Blacks are related to the Flamels, I'm quite curious."
"Yes, sir! At once, sir! This way, please…"
Kreacher's voice trembled with excitement as he led them upstairs.
He was genuinely thrilled, after all, Number 12 Grimmauld Place had been neglected for over a decade, and Sirius's recent "cleaning spree" had destroyed nearly everything that still reflected the Black family's glory. The tapestry was one of the few things left he could still show off.
Link's smile brightened as he followed. Emily and Snape exchanged a glance, both curious why Link would want to see such a thing, but said nothing.
As for Sirius, of course he objected to letting Link wander through his home, especially to look at that cursed tapestry he hated so much.
But Moody still had him restrained. He couldn't do anything.
Led by Kreacher, they soon reached a small, hidden room upstairs.
This one was noticeably cleaner than the others, though that wasn't saying much. Peeling paint and cracked floorboards still revealed years of neglect.
A massive tapestry covered an entire wall.
It was ancient and faded, with several spots gnawed through by moths, but the golden embroidery still gleamed faintly. It depicted a sprawling family tree that could be traced back to the Middle Ages.
At the top, embroidered in gold thread, were the words, "The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, Always Pure."
Kreacher recited the inscription in a trembling, reverent whisper. His entire body was shaking with emotion, as though simply standing beneath it was the greatest honor of his life.
Emily's eyes glimmered as she looked at the tapestry.
Having been raised in the Victoria estate with a pure-blood aristocratic education, she was deeply impressed by the grandeur of old noble lineages. But since the Victorias were little more than nouveau riche upstarts in America, she'd never seen true ancestral heritage, so this sight thrilled her.
Link was moved too, but not for the same reason. While Emily's gaze wandered over the Black family's origins, Link's eyes were fixed on the far end of the family tree's main branch.
There, two offshoots stood side by side, one bearing the portrait of a handsome young man, the other marked by a scorched hole, as if burned through by a cigarette.
Glancing at the name under the portrait, Link nodded in satisfaction.
This was exactly who he had come to find. The talk of "family relations" was just an excuse.
Pure-blood families had intermarried for centuries to preserve their bloodlines, by now, nearly every surviving pure-blood in Britain and even Europe could technically claim kinship with one another.
Of course, that "kinship" was mostly for show. In truth, no one cared. The web of connections was far too tangled to make sense of anyway.
"How strange," Emily murmured after studying the tapestry for a while. "Sirius Black isn't on here. Are you sure this is the complete family tree?"
Her question snapped Kreacher out of his trance. He gave a mocking snicker and was about to reply when Sirius's bitter voice came from behind them.
"I was on there once."
Under Moody's watch, Sirius entered the room and pointed to the burned-out hole on the tapestry. "After I ran away from home, my dear mother blasted me off."
He glanced down at Kreacher with a cold smirk. "Kreacher loves to whisper that story to himself."
Under Sirius's gaze, Kreacher bowed his head obediently but still muttered under his breath, words like "disgrace" and "traitor."
Link shot Sirius a glance, then explained to Emily, who was listening with curiosity,
"You can tell from the motto that the Blacks were always staunch supporters of pure-blood supremacy. Sirius Black here is the family's odd one out. Something's wrong with his head, he never agreed with any of their traditions."
"When he was sorted at Hogwarts, he wasn't put in Slytherin but in Gryffindor. There he joined up with James Potter and Lupin to form a little gang called the Marauders, a bunch of reckless troublemakers who bullied other students. Naturally, that made things at home… tense."
"If that were all, it wouldn't have been so bad. But when Voldemort rose to power, the rift between Sirius and the rest of the Black family deepened even further. At sixteen, he betrayed his own family and joined the Potters. That's when the Blacks officially erased him from the family tree."
"Yes! Yes! Exactly so!" Kreacher cried, clapping his hands. "This disgrace of a boy is the shame of the Black family! He's unworthy of the name 'Black,' and unworthy of inheriting this house!"
Emily gasped, covering her mouth in shock. When she looked at Sirius now, her eyes were filled with disgust and scorn.
To her, what he'd done was pure betrayal, a crime against his bloodline.
"I did not betray the Black family!" Sirius shouted, nearly shaking with rage. "You don't understand what it was like! They were all insane! They wanted to support Voldemort! It was wrong! I didn't care about the Black name, I..."
"You believed the Blacks were digging their own graves by siding with Voldemort," Link interrupted suddenly.
Sirius froze. He hadn't expected Link to say that, but he couldn't deny that it was true.
For a moment, it even felt like Link understood him. His anger faded just slightly.
Unfortunately, Link's next words sent him right back to the edge of collapse.
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