Harry Potter: New World

John drove to a coffee shop nearby, and I walked up to the grim black door. As I pulled the handle, I felt a flow of magic from the house to the ring and back. It felt familiar and pleasant, native. Native, despite the changes since the ritual.

The hallway looked much better than in my first visit. It was just as gloomy, yes, but you no longer risked getting tangled in cobwebs or covered in dust. The dark wallpaper with the monograms no longer threatened to fall off any minute, the magic lights looked old-fashioned but not old, and the light was sufficient and did not add a horror atmosphere. Even the floorboards didn't squeak - the Kreacher had done a good job in my absence, though I'd done some work myself last summer. Quite a lot, but not all. ​​

There was silence in the house. I took out my wand and walked quietly down the hall, listening for the magic. Nothing suspicious. Creating a non-verbal Homenum Revelio, I made sure that there were no enemies or friends, at least under the cloaking spells of the advanced medium level, which are the Disillusionment charms.

There was no one in the first small hallway, from which one enters the rest of the house and on the wall of which hangs a portrait of Lady Walburga.

"Max?" Walburga looked at me in surprise. "Why Kreacher didn't meet you? And why are you sneaking around in your own house with a wand in your hand? As a paranoid acquaintance used to say, 'constant vigilance'?"

"Did you know Alastor Moody?"

"A young and strong auror. Strong and talented. I don't even know if he's alive. Anyway! Congratulations, Maximilian Knight-Black, on becoming the full Head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black."

Walburga in the portrait rose from her chair and sat down in a curtsy, bowing her head respectfully.

"Thank you, Lady Walburga," I nodded back. "However, where is Kreacher?"

"Kreacher!" shouted Walburga, returning to her painted chair and smoking a painted cigarette in its mouthpiece. "He has completely stopped obeying lately. Try to call him by unleashing some magic."

"Kreacher!"

I expressed my desire to see the house-elf here and now as clearly as possible, on Lady Walburga's advice, letting some magic around as well. The crack sounded not nearby but on the second floor. After a brief moment, the old house-elf's head appeared from above, peeking neatly down the stairs.

"Kreacher, I can see you. Come here."

The house-elf only shook his head but was in no hurry to leave, either.

"Are you kidding me?"

The house-elf shook his head again.

"Bastard... Come here, now!" I growled at the house-elf, and only now Kreacher hesitantly, very timidly began to descend.

Shivering and frightened, he was torn now and then between wanting to run back up the stairs, but he went down. At last, the old house-elf reached me and froze, not daring to look up.

"Kreacher, stop acting like a kitten shitting in the master's slippers. What happened?"

Kreacher looked at me, at Walburga's portrait, at me again.

"Answer already, you worthless house-elf!" Lady Walburga couldn't stand that either.

"Kreacher..." croaked the house-elf. "Very guilty... Kreacher is guilty on many counts, respected Head of the family..."

"Short and to the point. Be so kind, my old lop-eared friend."

Kreacher shuddered, and with courage, he looked at me.

"Old Kreacher senses that the esteemed head is very dangerous. Everything..." Kreacher slammed himself on his chest with a hearty thud. "Everything is screaming at Kreacher to run and hide. But Kreacher will overcome..."

"What's the reason?"

"The magic of the Head... It's changed a little, and it's scary..."

"I see. Kreacher..."

"Yes?" the house-elf spoke up a little more bravely.

"Is there anything you want to tell me?"

Kreacher hesitated for a few minutes but shook his head in the negative after all.

"All right. When are you going to stop being afraid of me?"

"It takes time, Head. For the house to accept your magic. Along with the house, old Kreacher will accept it."

"I see. You can go about your business. I won't be long."

The house-elf disappeared instantly into the vortex of apparation. Transfiguring a simple chair from my handkerchief, I sat down and quickly recounted my adventures to Lady Walburga, keeping quiet about the Spirit Sword and hemomancy. I even told her about Rowena, which piqued the interest of the painted lady. But that interest came from her, along with some rather unflattering epithets about my foresight, but in the end, I was discounted for my youth and inexperience.

"And what are the young head's plans now?" the portrait lady asked with a sly smile.

"Plans? To begin with, I'm going to rest from everything for a few days at the Knights'. Then I need someone for hard practice in combat. I know a lot of spells, but that doesn't make me any more experienced. Then I'll need, as I understand it, to deal with the House's affairs, though I have no idea what those affairs are."

"Well... That's quite a good plan of action. I can only suggest one person about the combat training mentor, and everyone else will be interested in one way or another, try to arrange a tight contract, or belong to one political faction or another. You, Max, as I understand, are not going to join anyone?"

"At least for now, without seeing or knowing the full picture."

"Good decision. There is one individual whose skills are very, very good at combat magic and combat training in general. Even in my lifetime, which is ten years ago, she was ranked as a master specifically in combat magic. It's a very wide-ranging field. She always ignored any political trends, and being from a very wealthy family, she was not interested in bonded training contracts. She accepted students regardless of blood purity or origin, but only the talented. Also, probably only one of her students had reached master's level so far...

"You speak of her with such enthusiasm that I am very intrigued."

"Delphine Greengrass, de facto Head of the Greengrass family."