"The part she forgot?" Sirius stared at Lockhart as if looking at a fool. "If she herself, pushing her limits, can't remember what she forgot, how could we possibly help her find that missing memory!"
Lockhart gave the black dog on the floor a sidelong glance. Lately, he'd been busy at the Ministry fixing his mistakes, but he wasn't so out of touch as to not know about current events.
So he certainly knew this black dog was Sirius Black, whose name had been cleared and who had been exonerated after Peter Pettigrew was formally tried and found guilty.
"I'm only responsible for helping you find the cause and a possible solution. Whether that solution actually works or not has nothing to do with me."
Just as Lockhart shrugged, indicating he had fulfilled his duty, Severus spoke up.
"That's not necessarily true. If her parents truly erased that part of her memory, they might have also altered her perception of her own home in the process."
"That way, even if she later realizes she's forgotten something and desperately searches her surroundings for clues, she wouldn't find anything because that part of her perception is gone."
"We can go take a look at her original home, the Fawley residence."
"You probably don't need me for what comes next..." Lockhart hadn't finished speaking before Severus pushed him out the door by the shoulder.
"Don't forget what I told you. Do you think what you're doing now is really enough to salvage that terrible impact?"
Severus's words didn't elicit much response from Lockhart, but Muriel, standing nearby, bristled.
"Salvage! He can never salvage it in his lifetime! This despicable fraud should be swept into the dustbin of history! His only purpose is to endure the scorn of future generations!"
But neither Severus, nor Lockhart, nor Sirius had any intention of staying to listen to her rant further.
The two men and a dog quickly left the Prewett house. The moment they stepped outside, Sirius couldn't help but grumble.
Severus turned to look at him.
"I don't understand why you're so insistent on getting involved in this! Just because Dumbledore assigned it to you?"
"I just think it's a strange coincidence."
"What coincidence?"
"Don't you think that girl's parents are very similar to your brother? Or rather, the image of Regulus you always held is exactly what her parents experienced."
These words made Sirius pause involuntarily, and they also caused Lockhart to observe Sirius more closely.
With his sensitivity as a story thief and professional writer, the dialogue between these two men made him keenly aware that there must be some remarkable backstory here.
Sirius didn't say anything more after that.
The Fawley residence wasn't far from the Prewetts'.
After Meilia was taken in by Muriel, the Fawley house had been practically empty.
This was almost a common ailment among existing families still clinging to pure-blood ideals. To maintain blood purity, these families had too few options for marriage partners, often leading to incidents of inbreeding.
The Fawleys had once produced a Minister for Magic like Hector Fawley. But now, only a distant relative remained, who had long since moved from Britain to Ireland.
Pure-blood family houses were all large, and the Fawleys' dilapidated old manor was no exception.
However, it seemed that, like the owners of the house, the family's house-elves had either died out or been dismissed. The entire place reeked of decay and age, with no one having cleaned it for years.
Severus glanced at the portraits on the walls, which had all been destroyed by someone, and began assigning tasks to Lockhart and Sirius.
"Sirius, stay on the first floor. Gilderoy, take the third floor. I'll check the second. Pay special attention to books, letters, things like that. Anything dated close to nine years ago."
Soon, they began their search.
Upon reaching the second floor, Severus opened a couple of rooms that seemed like guest rooms and then found a room strewn with parchment, old books, and notes on the floor.
It looked like a disused study. He perked up, waved his wand to quickly tidy the room's terrible state, and began examining items on the desk.
He was aware of the couple's deaths, but not in great depth. At that time, he had just graduated from Hogwarts and hadn't yet gained Voldemort's full trust.
However, he knew that unlike the Lestranges and others, the Fawleys weren't die-hard loyalists to Voldemort. They were individuals with some academic standing and research background.
Such people gathered around Voldemort purely because they were initially attracted by his vision, which aligned perfectly with pure-blood aspirations. They believed in wizards emerging into the open and pure-bloods leading the entire Wizarding World, even the whole world, toward glory.
Later, as Voldemort grew increasingly extreme, obsessive, and power-hungry, these people gradually saw the Dark Lord's true nature. They wanted to leave but found it impossible to do so.
Severus rummaged through the messy pile of letters and soon found one that seemed unusual.
[Sterling, I can't deceive myself any longer.]
[Something happened at home recently, making me think a lot. Perhaps you were right. We've been deluding ourselves all along. He would never lead us to achieve our shared ideals!]
[If you've truly decided to leave, then just take Meilia and flee Britain! Flee far away! To Africa, to America, anywhere! Just don't stay in Europe!]
[And please, absolutely do not mention this to the Dark Lord. He would never agree. He would never allow anyone to leave!]
[In his eyes, we were never like-minded partners or friends. We are all just tools. Tools that cannot resign, cannot be useless. Tools for whom being discarded means death!]
Severus stroked his chin. The letter wasn't signed, so he didn't know who wrote it to the Fawleys. It was written just before the couple attempted to leave Voldemort.
The Fawleys wouldn't have casually discussed leaving the Death Eaters with just anyone. The writer of this letter must have been very close to them.
Yet, clearly, the Fawleys didn't heed the advice in this letter and were ultimately killed.
And the writer of this letter?
Were they still alive? Where were they now?