Chapter 187 — Brothers' Conversation (Part 2)
"These days, I don't have a complete grasp of all the family's industries, but the Black family has its hands in most profitable sectors. We also have a formidable house-elf combat unit and a brave, loyal werewolf force unafraid of death."
"You wouldn't know this since you've only just returned, but in the same year, a descendant of the Flint family was incited by a direct member of the Rich family to provoke me. So, I launched a family war. Now the Flint family exists in name only. There's only a single household left, and no known heirs."
He added casually, "Oh, and the vampire clans have been in civil unrest over the past few years. They caused chaos across the wizarding world. Two years ago, they even kidnapped me. It wasn't serious, but ever since, the Black family's main force has been focused on retaliating against the vampire clans."
At that moment, Phineas snapped his fingers. "Kreacher, bring the family's ledger. Show it to Sirius."
He turned to Sirius. "If you want the details, it's all in there."
Sirius was momentarily stunned as Kreacher entered the room — dressed in a neatly pressed shirt, trousers, and even a top hat. Were it not for his unmistakable features, Sirius might have mistaken him for a wizard of wealth and standing.
What shocked him most was the attire itself. As every wizard knew, giving a house-elf clothes equated to freeing them. And yet Kreacher was still here, still calling him 'eldest son.'
Seeing Sirius's reaction, Phineas smiled knowingly and explained, "I was too young to handle business affairs or formal negotiations. Kreacher handled most of it for me. But no one takes a house-elf in rags seriously, so I had him make his own formal wear — all stitched by him or the other elves. Since the clothes bear the Black family crest and weren't given by me, they don't count as gifts."
Sirius nodded in understanding, though he still held no fondness for Kreacher and his mother's bloodline ideology.
"You're older than me, and technically the rightful heir," Phineas said. "Now that you're back, the pressure for you to inherit will be immense. But let me be honest: I won't simply hand it all over. Everything the Black family has now — I fought for it."
"I have no intention of inheriting the family," Sirius replied firmly. "You don't need to worry about that."
Phineas shook his head. "It's not up to you. Others will force the issue."
Sirius blinked, realizing the implication. He was no fool. After all, he'd mastered Animagus magic in his third year. It wasn't hard to understand what Phineas meant — and the implications shocked him.
"What have you done to make them so afraid? When I was in Azkaban, I always wondered why you were only the heir and not the head of the Black family. Now I get it — they wouldn't let you ascend because of pressure from other families, right?"
Phineas nodded. "Exactly. They used my age as an excuse, saying I couldn't bear the responsibilities of a head. That way, they barred me from attending Consular meetings at the Elder Council."
"Now that you've returned, they'll use this opportunity to name you Head of House. That gives them legal justification to sideline me — not because of anything I've done wrong, but because they've finally found a loophole."
His voice carried disdain as he continued, clearly disgusted with the cowardice of those behind the scenes.
Sirius slowly nodded. "You must have challenged their core interests to make them this desperate. The Rich family must be at the heart of this."
"Of course," said Phineas. "They couldn't allow me to gain influence in the Elder Council."
"So," Sirius said, "you want my help?"
Phineas shook his head. "The title of Head means little. You and I both know that. Whether it's you or me, I'll never cast you out, and I know you'd never push me aside either."
Sirius smiled. "Naturally. After all, I owe you. If I hadn't run away or been expelled, things might've turned out differently. Maybe I would've fought harder back then. Maybe you wouldn't have had to shoulder the Black name alone all these years."
Phineas waved him off. "The past is past. I didn't rescue you either. You spent over ten years in Azkaban. So yes, I had resentment... but I also needed a contingency plan."
"You wanted to use me as a backup," Sirius said, eyes narrowing slightly.
Phineas didn't answer immediately. Then he chuckled. "How did you figure that out? I never put the plan into motion."
"When you said you hadn't rescued me for more than a decade, I understood. You always knew Peter Pettigrew was with the Weasleys. If you wanted, you could've exposed him and cleared my name at any time. But you didn't — which meant you had a long game in mind."
Phineas calmly sipped his tea. "Yes. I had a plan."
Sirius leaned back in his chair. "And what was it?"
Phineas nodded slowly. "Since both of you — you and Pettigrew — are now out in the open, the plan is obsolete. But I'll explain it."
He continued, "Firstly, while you were in Azkaban, if anything ever happened to me — an attack, assassination, or sudden death — the Elder Council would safeguard the Black legacy until you died or were released. As long as you were alive, the family's authority couldn't be fully taken away. You were the insurance policy that kept them from seizing it all outright."