The Silence of the Black House
Two green flashes burst open over the fireplace in the Black house as Draco and Harry stepped out, both wearing serious expressions. In Harry's arms lay Kreacher, completely unconscious.
The moment they lifted their eyes, they froze.
The drawing room was an absolute disaster. Everything was destroyed. Furniture overturned, walls partially collapsed, scorch marks and traces of explosions scarring the space. The sofas lay flipped on their sides, and the portrait where Sirius's mother should have been, the very one responsible for unleashing chaos every time someone entered, was now completely burned, reduced to ashes.
Standing directly in front of what remained of that portrait was Sirius, staring at it with such intensity that he seemed utterly unaware of their arrival.
"Sirius?" Harry called.
He reacted instantly. His wand snapped up on instinct, aimed straight at them, as if his reflexes had taken only a fraction of a second to catch up.
"Ah… it's you," he said, lowering the wand just as quickly when he recognized them.
"Are you alright?" Harry asked, watching him closely.
"Yeah. Just… a bit shocked," Sirius replied, his gaze sweeping over the ruined house. Then he noticed Kreacher, unconscious in Harry's arms, and moved at once, all other thoughts vanishing as his focus locked onto him. "How did this happen?" he asked urgently.
"He appeared right in front of us," Draco explained, his tone serious. "He asked for help… and then collapsed. But what the hell happened here? What happened to this house?"
Sirius shook his head.
"That's exactly what I'd like to know," he said, running a hand through his hair.
"Gris," Harry said aloud.
At once, a crack echoed through the manor, and the Potter family's house-elf appeared in the middle of the room. As always, he was dressed like a tiny butler. He scanned the room quickly until he found Harry, then placed a hand over his chest in greeting.
For a brief moment, his brow furrowed slightly when he noticed Kreacher unconscious in his master's arms.
"Gris, take care of Kreacher. And his injuries," Harry ordered, handing him over.
Gris did not hesitate for even a second. He snapped his fingers, bandages and potions appearing at once, laid Kreacher gently on the floor, and began examining him with swift efficiency.
The fireplace flared to life again under everyone's watchful eyes, and Edward stepped out, his expression grave. Selene, Narcissa, and Wanda followed right behind him. A moment later, Liz, the other Potter house-elf, appeared after them.
"Master, Liz informed the adults as you instructed," she reported quickly, bowing toward Harry.
Harry nodded. Liz then spotted Kreacher, her eyes widening with concern as she hurried over to help Gris tend to him.
Sirius watched his godson for a moment.
"What? Weren't we supposed to come ourselves and get into trouble afterward?" Harry said calmly, as if the situation itself explained everything.
"What happened here?" Narcissa interjected, surveying the room before fixing her gaze on the spot where Walburga Black's portrait should have been.
"I have no idea. When I arrived, it was already like this," Sirius replied, shaking his head again as he began pacing the room, searching for any clue.
Edward did the same without a word, examining the remains and using his wand in an attempt to detect any lingering magical traces.
Narcissa, meanwhile, continued to stare at the destroyed portrait.
Wanda moved closer to Harry, who was pulling out more potions for Gris to administer to Kreacher.
"It's alright. I'll heal him," Wanda said softly.
Harry nodded.
Wanda raised her hand and slowly passed it over the unconscious elf's body. She frowned as she sensed the severity of his injuries, which began to close visibly under her magic.
"Those aren't just the wounds of someone who was beaten, are they?" Harry asked, noticing his mother's expression, his own face turning serious.
Wanda looked at him for a moment and gave a slight shake of her head.
"Was he tortured?" Sirius asked, his face completely hardened with fury.
Wanda did not need to answer. The silence was enough.
That silence only fueled Sirius's anger further. He clenched his fists as he looked at his house-elf, the same one with whom he so often clashed.
"Appare Vestigium," Sirius said.
Golden dust immediately surrounded him, and before everyone's eyes, spectral images began to form, replaying the events from moments earlier.
Kreacher could be seen working as usual, cleaning the house while muttering to himself, likely complaining as always. The spell carried no sound, only images, yet everyone watched in silence.
After a moment, Kreacher suddenly froze. He turned toward the fireplace, as if he had sensed something. He seemed to mouth a single word.
Then the dust exploded outward, the spell shattering abruptly.
Everyone's expressions turned grave.
But Narcissa's eyes widened slightly.
"Go back to the final moment," she ordered firmly.
Sirius moved his wand, and the golden dust rebuilt the scene right at the moment Kreacher turned toward the fireplace. The elf said something, and the spell unraveled once more.
Narcissa frowned, utterly serious, and looked at Selene. Selene met her gaze with the same gravity and gave a small nod, as if confirming that they had both understood the same thing.
"Wanda, can you…?" Narcissa began, turning to Wanda, who had just finished healing Kreacher.
Wanda nodded without needing further explanation. She snapped her fingers, and the golden dust still hanging in the air turned completely red, forcibly reconstructing the scene once again.
This time, everyone could see and hear clearly.
"Damned traitor," the elf muttered as he continued cleaning. "He is nothing like Master Regulus. Master Regulus is the elite of the family. How could the family's power fall into the hands of that traitor? My poor Master Regulus surely…"
He stopped abruptly.
Kreacher lifted his gaze toward the fireplace, which burst into green flames, and a figure began to emerge from within.
The figure coming out of the fireplace could not be seen clearly for some unknown reason, but Kreacher managed to say,
"Lady Bel…"
Then the spell, just like Sirius's before, exploded with far greater force, causing a wave of disorientation to sweep through the room. Several of those present had to steady themselves as they felt the impact. Wanda opened her eyes in surprise as she realized her magic had failed to fully reconstruct the scene.
She raised her hand and snapped her fingers again.
The red dust tried to take shape, but it seemed to lose strength halfway, hanging in the air before slowly dissipating. Wanda tilted her head slightly, confused, and snapped her fingers a couple more times, her expression growing increasingly serious.
"I can't…" she finally murmured.
Everyone looked at her in absolute shock upon hearing those words. Sirius's and Edward's faces hardened at once. If Wanda could not use her magic to recover that fragment, then there was no way even they could do so.
"I have to go," Narcissa said quickly, her tone firm. She then turned her head toward Draco. "Draco, return to school now," she ordered, fixing him with a look that allowed no argument.
With that, she left so quickly that no one managed to say another word.
"Harry, to school," Wanda said, looking at her son with seriousness.
Harry gave a small nod. He cast one last look at Kreacher before following his friend toward the fireplace. As they prepared to leave, he glanced one final time at the adults gathered there, all wearing grave expressions.
Even his mother.
Wanda held a thoughtful look, as if trying to understand why her magic, magic so powerful, had failed completely. Beside her, Sirius stood in silence, gazing at the house he had hated for so long, now lying in ruins. Perhaps more than once he had wished to see it like this, yet now that it was, he did not truly know what he felt.
Especially when he looked at his mother's portrait.
The woman he had hated so deeply. The one he had always wanted to silence in some way. Now she was sunk into absolute silence, one that seemed to echo even louder than her former shrill screams.
When the boys finally departed, only the adults remained in the room, left even more confused than when they had arrived.