Chapter 278 — Quarrel
"The vase must've been a gift from Aunt Petunia," Harry said with a shaky laugh, wiping the corners of his eyes.
The oddly shaped, overly ornate vase in the photograph was unmistakably one of his aunt's favorites.
He knew the style too well — the gaudy carpets, stiff tablecloths, and tasteless color combinations that filled the Dursleys' home.
Those decorations were Aunt Petunia's pride and joy.
Uncle Vernon, on the other hand, had wanted to replace them for years, but never dared.
Still, Harry found himself smiling faintly. For all her faults, Petunia had once admired his mother enough to give her a gift. For someone like her, that must have been a significant gesture — the kind of gift Ron would compare to receiving a Nimbus 2001.
"It's that woman again," Sirius muttered bitterly. "I never understood why Lily liked her sister so much. She was cruel, she hated our kind… and she wasn't even pleasant to look at."
"It's not right to judge a person by their appearance," Dumbledore said mildly, flicking his wand. A chair floated gracefully behind him, settling on the floor. "You're facing guests, Sirius, and yet you've forgotten to offer me a seat."
Sirius opened his mouth, then shut it again.
Dumbledore's expression softened. "If you truly don't understand Lily, then perhaps you also don't understand why Petunia risked her life to take in her sister's son."
He continued, his tone calm but steady. "You might argue that she did it because of Lily's protective blood magic, but Petunia herself never understood that. She took in her sister's only child after her entire family had been murdered by terrorists — yes, that's the right word, Harry."
Dumbledore glanced at him knowingly before continuing. "And to be fair, Petunia was rather kind to you in your earliest years, before fear and resentment hardened her heart."
Sirius muttered something under his breath, clearly unwilling to admit it. His voice and expression in that moment were eerily similar to Kreacher's — the same stubborn tone of defiance.
Harry almost laughed at the thought. It wasn't surprising, really; Kreacher had been with Sirius's family for decades, maybe even more. Perhaps Sirius had picked up more from the old elf than he realized.
Then something caught Harry's attention. "Wait—what did you just say? Cat?"
Sirius blinked. "Ah, right. There was a cat. I think its name was Snowflake."
Harry froze. They had a cat. A faint ache twisted in his chest.
Had it died in Godric's Hollow? Or simply wandered off after his parents were gone?
He'd never been to his real home — never even seen it.
That thought made his stomach tighten painfully.
Sirius seemed unfazed. To him, a cat was just a cat. He'd been raised a Black — and even though he rejected many of his family's beliefs, their habits were deeply ingrained. Like many pure-blood wizards, he didn't really think of animals or house-elves as equals with true emotions.
"I get it now," Ron said suddenly, glancing between them. "Harry hates cats because of Mrs. Figg. When the Dursleys went on trips, they always left him with that old Muggle lady — she had dozens of cats!"
He grinned, clearly pleased to reveal one of Harry's "secrets."
Harry shot him a look, but before he could reply, Draco scoffed. "Come on, Ron. You've just known Harry longer, that's all."
Ron's grin widened. "Speaking of cats, I think most Hogwarts students hate them anyway."
Draco crossed his arms. "That's ridiculous. What about Millicent? She's a Slytherin too, and Hogwarts is full of cats. They just don't wander out of the dorms much."
Ron gave him a dramatic look. "You don't have a crush on her, do you?"
Draco smirked. "Why not? Besides, it wouldn't hurt for both of us to have someone we like. That way, our parents won't think our friendship with Harry is… unusual."
"Hey!" Ron exclaimed, eyes wide. "That's not what I meant at all!"
Draco laughed quietly. "You're protesting a bit too much, Weasley."
"I don't like Millicent! She's built like Crabbe or Goyle — and she's got a double chin!"
Draco's tone turned teasing. "If you don't like her, why notice her appearance in such detail?"
Harry sat quietly, watching the two of them bicker yet again. He could only sigh.
Meanwhile, Kreacher bustled around the garden, setting down trays of food beside the phoenix-shaped cake. The scent of roasted chicken and warm bread filled the air.
Upstairs, near the staircase outside Regulus's room, Sirius and Dumbledore stood apart from the laughter below.
"We should talk while Kreacher's distracted with lunch preparations," Sirius said quietly, his voice tight with worry.
"Don't fret, Sirius," Dumbledore replied gently. "I have no intention of harming Regulus. Whatever he's become, he's still a hero — he did much to aid us in the fight against Voldemort."
But Sirius's anxious gaze didn't waver. Dumbledore could see the fear behind it — the fear of losing his brother again.
"I'll be blunt," Sirius said finally. "I trust you, Dumbledore — but not in this matter."
"Harry's a hero too. But look how his childhood turned out," he added in a low voice.
He glanced toward Regulus's door. "He's sleeping now. I don't want him startled awake. And I'm not letting you inside until we've talked this through."
Dumbledore nodded slowly. "I understand, truly. Losing someone you love and finding them again — even in a fragile form — changes everything."
"But if his existence is unstable," Dumbledore continued softly, "or if releasing his soul would free him from suffering, you must understand the choice that might be required."
Sirius's fists clenched. "If that time ever comes… give me some time first. Please."
The door creaked open. A pale young man with silver-black hair stepped out, dressed in simple pajamas. Though he appeared grown, his movements were childlike and hesitant.
"Reggie…" Sirius whispered.
Regulus walked toward him, eyes wide with concern. Reaching out with trembling hands, he clumsily wiped the tears from Sirius's face.
"I think you understand now," Sirius said hoarsely, pulling his brother into his arms. His expression was fierce — protective — the look of someone who'd already decided he would give anything, even his life, to keep his brother safe.
Dumbledore watched silently, then sighed. "I understand. But if his soul truly is trapped… you must be ready for what that means."
Sirius tightened his grip around Regulus's hand. "Then give me time, Dumbledore. Just time."
He opened the door wider. "Come in."
Dumbledore stepped inside quietly.
(End of Chapter 278)
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