It actually wasn't surprising that Grimmauld Place had fallen into such disrepair.
After all, the area where Grimmauld Place was located was one of the old districts of South London. Most of the buildings here were centuries-old antiques.
Added to that, South London was mainly a commercial and residential area for ordinary people. In this day and age, the London government hadn't invested much at all into renovating or rebuilding it, so it being in such a mess was only natural.
In fact, neighborhoods like this, old city districts, were still quite common in London, even though it was among the first cities in the world to enter industrialization and complete urbanization.
Many foreign tourists and some of the local artsy types might even think these places were part of Britain's culture and classical charm, believing them to have great aesthetic value.
But for the people who actually lived here, everything about this place was simply rotten to the core.
"Professor Snape, are you sure it's here?"
Emily frowned as she looked around, sounding a little disgusted.
She couldn't believe that the world-famous, most ancient and noble ancestral home of the Black family could possibly be located in a Muggle residential area like this. Everyone knew the Blacks were notorious pure-blood supremacists, they treated Muggles like enemies.
"It's here," Snape said flatly. "The Black family only started their pure-blood nonsense a few generations ago. Before that, they loved mingling with Muggles."
"Of course, by 'mingling,' I mean using magic to bully them and steal their possessions."
As he spoke, Link stood in front of a neat row of terraced houses. Each house had its own number, but the two directly in front of him, Number 11 and Number 13, were unusual. They stood tightly side by side, almost as if Number 12 had been forcibly removed from between them, leaving an eerie, unnatural gap.
Seeing this, Snape gave Link a long, deep look and said,
"All right, hurry up and get over here. You're dawdling, and some Muggles have already started paying attention to us!"
He wasn't lying.
Earlier that morning, when Mrs. Flamel heard that Link was visiting the Black residence, she insisted on preparing two French-style formal outfits with black velvet trim for Link and Emily, despite the summer heat.
As a result, they looked even more overdressed than they had at last year's Christmas Ball, completely out of place here in Grimmauld Place. It was only natural that they were attracting stares.
Link didn't care about the Muggles' looks.
He knew perfectly well that the entire area around Number 12 Grimmauld Place had been layered with powerful Muggle-repelling charms. Even if they walked straight in wearing formal attire in broad daylight, no Muggle would retain any memory of them afterward.
Still, since Snape had said it, Link obediently led Emily to stand beside him.
Snape pulled out a small piece of parchment.
Link and Emily could clearly read the words written on it, "The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is located at Number 12, Grimmauld Place, London."
Link silently recited it to himself, committing it firmly to memory.
Immediately afterward, a battered door materialized out of thin air between Numbers 11 and 13. Then, grimy walls and shadowy windows appeared, as if an entire extra house had suddenly swelled into existence, pushing the neighboring ones aside.
"This is…"
Emily's mouth, hidden under her veil, opened slightly in surprise, it was her first time encountering a property protected to such an extreme degree.
Seeing this, Link explained, "It's the Fidelius Charm, a top-level security spell often used for safe houses."
"Its principle is to hide a secret, say, the location of the safe house, inside the soul of a living person. As long as that Secret Keeper doesn't voluntarily reveal it, even if an intruder presses their nose against the sitting room window, they won't see a thing."
"I'm not sure whether this Fidelius Charm was originally placed here or if Dumbledore added it later."
"But since it's now the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, that means the current Secret Keeper should be..."
"Link!"
Snape interrupted furiously, sounding truly alarmed.
He had every reason to be.
After all, Harry was hiding inside right now. If Link revealed the Secret Keeper's identity out here, it could compromise the entire concealment.
"All right, all right, I won't say it."
Link spread his hands helplessly, but then silently mouthed a name to Emily, Dumbledore.
Snape noticed, of course. He took a deep breath, forcing his anger back down, and then stepped up the cracked stone steps to press the serpent-shaped doorbell of Number 12 Grimmauld Place.
———
Meanwhile, inside Number 12 Grimmauld Place, the atmosphere was heavy and oppressive.
Harry, his hair a wild mess, was sitting alone in a shabby upstairs room, covering his face with both hands.
Only that way could he barely suppress his restlessness.
This was already his fourth day at Grimmauld Place.
When he first arrived, he had actually been quite happy. Despite the looming threats of Voldemort's hunt and the upcoming Wizengamot trial, at least here he had Hermione, Ron, and other familiar faces like Lupin and Sirius around him.
With them here, Harry had felt this place was practically heaven, at least compared to staying at his aunt's house getting bullied.
With Hermione and Ron accompanying him, Harry had explored nearly every corner of Number 12 over the past few days.
Though this centuries-old ancestral home of wizards was in poor condition, it contained plenty of secrets. Just two days ago, they had found a finger bone of unknown origin in a dusty, cluttered, still-unorganized room. According to Sirius, it was probably a relic from his great-grandfather, once used as a material in some dark magic ritual.
To Harry and his fellow Gryffindor "adventurers," this ancient house was like a paradise of exploration.
But as the date of the Wizengamot trial drew closer, anxiety began to flood Harry's heart.
Hermione and Ron had been doing their best to comfort him, but whenever Harry thought about the possibility of losing his magic, even his memories of being a wizard, and being sent back to a Muggle reform school to live as a nobody, his emotions would explode. Nothing could calm him down.
And once his mood soured, all of Number 12's little "charms" turned into flaws.
The dim, shabby interior. The musty, sour smell in the air. The constant, depressing Order meetings where Moody, Sirius, and the others discussed nothing but bad news.
All of it made Grimmauld Place feel dead and suffocating.
Oh, and worst of all was that house-elf, Kreacher.
As the Blacks' family elf, the creature was absolutely deranged, muttering to himself all day, cursing everyone he saw, yet the moment anyone tried to scold him, he'd put on that pitiful act that made it impossible to punish him properly.
In such an environment, Harry felt he might go insane even before the Wizengamot could sentence him.
Ding-dong!
Suddenly, a harsh bell rang from downstairs.
Harry groaned and covered his ears. From experience, he knew that meant something worse was about to follow.
But to his surprise, not long after, loud knocks rattled his own door, and Hermione's excited voice called out, "Harry! Come down, Link's here!"
"What?!"
Harry leapt up from his bed instantly, his face lighting up in joy.
He knew Link's strength all too well, and just as Professor Lupin had been saying these past few days, Link had a good relationship with Minister Fudge.
If Link was willing to speak on his behalf, maybe the Wizengamot trial could even be canceled.
Of course, beyond all that, what Harry wanted most right now was simply to see his powerful, close friend again, and finally vent about all the miserable things that had been happening to him lately.
———
[Outside on the Front Steps]
Link was startled to find that as soon as Snape pressed the serpent-shaped doorbell, the whole house seemed to come alive.
Inside, a man's furious shouting erupted first, followed by the thud of footsteps on wooden stairs, then a series of clanging metallic sounds. Finally, the door swung open, and there stood Sirius Black.
He looked very unhappy, and when he saw Snape standing there, that unhappiness turned instantly into rage.
Lowering his voice, he hissed furiously, "Damn it, Snivellus! Dumbledore's letter specifically said not to ring the doorbell! Now you've ruined everything!"
"Oh, I suppose it did mention that," Snape said lazily, showing not an ounce of remorse, if anything, a hint of smug satisfaction.
Emily shot Link a puzzled look. She couldn't understand why pressing a doorbell would cause such a reaction, though admittedly, it had been an awful noise.
Link smiled faintly and didn't explain, just gave her a look that said, wait and see.
Sirius, meanwhile, finally noticed the two figures standing behind Snape, Link and Emily. He frowned, seeming about to say something, but before he could, a hysterical scream rang out from deeper inside the house.
"Damn it! You've woken her up!"
Sirius's face changed. Cursing, he dashed back inside.
Link and the others exchanged glances, then followed him in.
Although the summer sunlight still shone brightly outside, the inside of the house was oppressively dark. The only light came from a few candelabras in the corners. The air itself was heavy with a sickly-sweet stench of decay, as though this place had been abandoned for years, and might well be crawling with vermin.
Worse still, from somewhere deep in the hallway, behind two heavy velvet curtains, came the piercing, furious screams of a woman.
Sirius looked frantic. He ran forward and yanked the curtains down.
Behind them was a life-sized portrait of an old woman in a black hat, thrashing and screaming as though being tortured. Spittle flew from her mouth, her eyes rolled wildly, and her yellowed skin stretched tight from the force of her shrieking.
Perhaps because the curtains had been pulled back, her screams grew even louder, setting off the other portraits in the hallway, they too began shrieking, the cacophony so terrible it seemed it might burst eardrums.
"SHUT UP, ALL OF YOU!"
Sirius shouted, flicking his wand again and again. Stunning spells shot precisely at the portraits, one after another. Soon, most of the noise died down.
All except for the old woman's painting, which seemed to have some kind of protective enchantment, the Stunning Spells had no effect on her.
Standing in the doorway, Snape looked positively delighted.
Pointing at the various portraits, he began introducing them to Link and Emily, "These are all the ancestors of the Black family. For instance, that's Mr. Sirius Black's great-grandfather, Cygnus Black. And that one, Arcturus, his uncle."
"Oh, and look here! Phineas Nigellus Black, Sirius's great-great-grandfather and a former headmaster of Hogwarts. Why does he have a hole in his face?"
"Oh! I imagine our dear Sirius went a bit overboard with his Stunning Spell just now and damaged his ancestor's portrait. Poor Phineas, such an ungrateful descendant he has."
"And this one..."
Snape went on cheerfully, his face full of smug satisfaction.
Meanwhile, the old woman's incoherent screaming turned into words.
She glared down at Sirius and shrieked, "Disgrace! Shame of the family! The wretched son I gave birth to! Get out, take your misshapen friends and get out of this house! How dare you defile the home of my ancestors!"
Sirius was shaking all over with fury, but Snape, grinning ear to ear, added helpfully, "That would be Sirius Black's dear mother, Walburga Black. A typical old-fashioned pure-blood supremacist and a loyal supporter of Voldemort."
"I met her once, years ago, back then she was still an elegant and noble lady. But now… well, you can see for yourself. Poor woman, driven mad by her disgrace of a son."
"Shut it, Snivellus! No one asked for your commentary!"
Sirius snapped furiously as he struggled to manage the chaos.
"And you!" he turned to the portrait, "Be quiet, you horrible old witch, be quiet!"
But his command had no effect. Walburga's portrait only screamed louder.
Then, quite suddenly, as her wild eyes landed on Link and Emily standing by the entrance, she went utterly silent.
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