章 426: 0425 Relatives

At the entrance of the palace-like tent, Draco stood in an impeccable suit, raising an eyebrow and casting a slightly mocking gaze at Harry, whose head had swollen due to the bubble gum Ginny had given him. Draco completely ignored the fact that two of his former professors were standing right in front of him.

"What's going on, Remus?" Sirius asked in a low voice, his brow furrowed deeply as he addressed Remus, who was currently engaged in a silent standoff with Narcissa Malfoy.

Remus pressed his lips together. His amber eyes reflected a mixture of exhaustion and helplessness. Running a hand through his prematurely graying hair, he replied in a hushed tone, "It's Kreacher. He took it upon himself to invite your... to be a guest in the tent. I noticed the commotion outside, so I came to investigate."

"That disloyal traitor!" Sirius cursed without restraint, his voice rising slightly before he caught himself. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides as he fought to control his temper. "Where's Kreacher now? Where did the little backstabber run off to?"

Remus's expression softened slightly at his friend's outburst. "I've already sent him to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for you all," he said, trying to diffuse the situation. "I thought it best to keep him occupied and out of sight for now."

Sirius, whose complexion was already darkened from over two weeks of sunbathing at sea, turned an even deeper shade. The tan that had given him a healthy glow now seemed to emphasize the storm brewing in his eyes. With a determined set to his jaw, he strode past Remus, taking his place in the tense standoff with Draco's mother.

"You're not welcome in my tent. Leave!"

Faced with Sirius's harsh rebuke, Narcissa showed little outward reaction, but a keen observer might have noticed the slight tightening around her eyes and the almost imperceptible lift of her chin.

Draco, however, was not nearly as adept at hiding his emotions. His pale face suddenly flushed an angry red, the color creeping up his neck and staining his cheeks. He glared at Sirius with unbridled fury, as he seemed about to step forward to defend his mother's dignity. However, Narcissa's hand, adorned with glittering rings, shot out to hold Draco back.

Simultaneously, Arthur his kind face etched with concern, moved to restrain Harry and the others who were instinctively edging forward to join the fray. His hand gently pushed against Harry's chest, and he shook his head slightly at the boy, whose swollen features did nothing to mask his determination. Arthur's voice was soft but authoritative as he said, "Let them handle it, Harry. You youngsters shouldn't interfere in adult matters."

Hermione, her bushy brown hair even more wild than usual in the morning air, frowned deeply as she stood behind Arthur. In a low voice that barely carried to those around her, she asked, "What's going on? That's Malfoy's mom... She seems to know Sirius?"

Harry blinked, finally realizing as he watched the cold confrontation between Sirius and Malfoy's mother that they might indeed know each other. Before he could voice his confusion, Ron spoke in a rather disdainful tone:

"There's nothing strange about that, is there? Sirius's family is very famous and Pureblood wizard families have been intermarrying for hundreds of years. If you trace it back far enough, even Malfoy and I are relatives!"

The last part was said with a grimace, as if the very thought left a bad taste in his mouth.

Even with his eyes squeezed into slits due to his swollen face, Harry still managed to widen them in shock as he stared at Ron. The fact that Ron was actually related to Malfoy, even distantly, was quite a surprise to Harry. It made him realize just how little he truly understood about the complex web of relationships in the wizarding world.

"Your tent—" Narcissa Malfoy's voice cut through the air like a knife. She seemed to have originally intended not to speak to Sirius at all, but his rude tone appeared to have pierced her icy facade, igniting a spark of anger. She put on a disgusted expression, as if she had smelled something unpleasant.

Narcissa's gaze swept over the tent left behind by Sirius's father, her eyes narrowing as if she were examining a particularly offensive piece of rubbish in a second-hand market. Her lips curled into a sneer as she took in every detail of the once-grand structure.

To be fair, Sirius's tent was still quite impressive in its own right. Its style didn't pale in comparison to the other luxurious dwellings that dotted the campground. The fabric was a deep, rich burgundy, embroidered with intricate golden patterns that seemed to move and shimmer in the early morning light.

However, the ravages of time and neglect were evident upon closer inspection. The fabric, while still rich in color, was tattered at the edges and bore unmistakable signs of moth damage. Patches of the once-vibrant embroidery had come loose, leaving gaps in the elegant designs. The ropes and poles that held the tent upright showed signs of wear, and there was a general air of mustiness that showed years of neglect.

The sorry state of the tent was a direct result of years of neglect. Over the past decade, Grimmauld Place had been maintained solely by Kreacher, the Black family's ancient house-elf. However, Kreacher had spent most of his time flattering the shrieking portrait of Sirius's mother, barely finding time or feeling to properly clean or maintain the Black family's numerous properties. This prolonged negligence had resulted in the tent falling into a state of disrepair that was impossible to fully disguise, even with magic.

"Is this all that's left of the Black family in your hands? Just these worn-out relics?" Narcissa's voice dripped with disdain, each word carefully chosen to inflict maximum damage. Her haughty expression spoke volumes about her opinion of Sirius in the family legacy. "Would you like to hear how Walburga evaluated you when she was alive? 'A good-for-nothing' was spot on, wasn't it? No wonder she emptied the Black family vault before she died, not leaving you a single coin."

At the mention of his mother, a flash of gloom crossed Sirius's dark face, quickly masked by anger. The muscles in his jaw tightened visibly as he clenched his teeth. It was clear that he didn't care about the galleons hidden in the goblin's underground vaults at Gringotts, but the mutual suspicion and hatred between mother and son was evidently not a wound that had healed with time. Having such a painful family history spoken of so coldly by an outsider, even one related by blood, was like salt being rubbed into an old but still tender wound.

"I'm not like you—" Sirius began, his voice low and controlled as he fought to suppress the anger boiling in his heart. His grey eyes now held an icy coldness that could rival Narcissa's own glacial stare. "I don't need to rely on galleons or constantly boast about my ridiculous bloodline to hold my head high and get through life."

Harry, despite his comically swollen features, felt a surge of pride for his godfather. He was about to cheer for Sirius, his hand already half-raised in support. Even Remus, standing slightly to the side, couldn't suppress the small smile that tugged at the corners of his lips.

Draco's reaction, however, was far from amused. His pale cheeks, which had only just returned to their normal color, suddenly flushed a violent shade of red that clashed horribly with his platinum hair. In a move so swift it seemed almost instinctive, his hand darted to his pocket. In one fluid motion, he drew his wand out and pointed it directly at Sirius, as his arm trembled with the force of his anger.

A low growl escaped Draco's throat, similar to a wolf whose territory had been invaded. His grey eyes, so like his mother's, were wide with fury as he snarled, "Apologize to my mother, now!"

"Watch out!" Harry's shout pierced the tense atmosphere, his voice slightly muffled by his swollen cheeks. In an instant, the scene transformed from a tense verbal confrontation to a potentially dangerous magical standoff.

Except for Mr. Weasley, who maintained his position, Harry and Hermione, along with Ron and his siblings, had instinctively taken defensive stances the moment Draco showed signs of attacking. Wands appeared in hands, each pointed steadily despite the trembling fingers that held them. In the blink of an eye, the atmosphere between the two groups became charged with potential violence.

Wizards passing by looked at the scene in astonishment, their morning stroll to breakfast was suddenly interrupted by what appeared to be an impending duel. Some quick-witted individuals were already running towards the distance to report the situation to the campsite managers.

To be honest, the threat from a young wizard like Draco wasn't taken particularly seriously by seasoned wizards like Sirius and Remus. Both men had faced far worse in their lives –However, as they looked at Draco pointing his wand at them with such naked hostility, disappointment showed clearly in both their eyes. After all, no matter how much they were at odds with the Malfoy family, Draco had once been their student at Hogwarts.

"Put your wands away, all of you!" Mr. Weasley's voice cut through the tension. His tone was no longer that of his usual good-natured self, but carried an authority that seemed to surprise even his own children.

Mr. Weasley looked sternly at his children until, one by one, Harry and the others reluctantly lowered their wands. Satisfied that his side were under control, Mr. Weasley turned his attention to Draco. His voice was firm but not unkind.

"Please put your wand away, young Mr. Malfoy. No fighting is allowed here!"

"Why should I listen to you?" Draco's arm didn't move an inch.

Mr. Weasley's patience, while considerable, was not infinite. His kind face hardened slightly as he stepped forward, straightening his shoulders as he faced Draco.

"I'm sorry, young Mr. Malfoy," he said, his voice taking on an edge of anger that his children rarely heard. "Perhaps you've forgotten, but I feel obliged to remind you that I am a Ministry official. It's my responsibility to maintain order here." His blue eyes bored into Draco's grey ones as he continued, "Are you prepared to launch an attack in front of a Ministry official? Are you ready to face the consequences of such an action?"

Mr. Weasley's words were clearly unexpected by Draco. Draco had never taken the Weasley family seriously before, dismissing them as blood traitors unworthy of his attention. But now, with quite a crowd gathering to watch the unfolding drama, he found himself in a difficult position.

"Put your wand away, Draco. These riffraff aren't worth it." Narcissa was more level-headed than Draco. She knew that under these circumstances, with so many witnesses and a Ministry official present, it was no longer appropriate or advantageous to continue arguing with this group.

Moreover, Arthur Weasley was, after all, a long-serving Ministry official from a pureblood family, regardless of their blood traitor status. If things really escalated, it might prove difficult for her husband, Lucius, to handle the political fallout. The last thing the Malfoy family needed was more scrutiny from the Ministry, especially with the whispers of dark activities that still clung to their name like shadows.

Narcissa lowered Draco's arm. She gazed deeply at Sirius, as if trying to memorize his face, then put her arm around Draco's shoulders and raised her voice slightly.

"Let's go, Draco, We'll visit the Greengrass family's tent. I'm sure they'll provide much more... suitable company." Her pause was deliberate, her next words chosen with surgical precision to inflict maximum damage. "There's no need to argue with a criminal from Azkaban and a werewolf. It's beneath us."

The effect of Narcissa's words was immediate. The crowd, which had been murmuring quietly amongst themselves, suddenly erupted into a cacophony of gasps, exclamations, and hurried whispers. Many of the foreign wizards, who had been drawn to the confrontation out of simple curiosity, now looked at Remus and Sirius with undisguised terror.

The more timid members of the audience began to back away, their eyes wide with fear as they regarded the two men as if they had suddenly transformed into dementors before their very eyes.

Faced with people's pointing and whispering, Sirius and Remus looked grim. However, they couldn't explain anything to these uninformed foreigners, especially since, in a sense, Narcissa Malfoy wasn't lying. Remus was indeed a genuine werewolf, and Sirius had indeed spent a third of his life in the infamous Azkaban.

"Stop right there, Malfoy!" A sudden surge of anger welled up in Harry's heart. He raised his wand again, shouting at Malfoy's back.

Draco, who had been allowing his mother to guide him away from the confrontation, paused at Harry's call. He turned slowly, a sneer already forming on his face. As he took in Harry's ridiculous appearance, the sneer morphed into a look of malicious amusement.

"You look quite amusing, Potter, Oh, planning to make a grand appearance at the World Cup, are you?"

Draco was thoroughly satisfied with Sirius and Remus's embarrassment and he wasn't at all concerned about Harry's raised wand. Perhaps it was the presence of so many witnesses, or maybe he simply couldn't take Harry seriously given his current appearance. Whatever the reason, Draco's posture remained relaxed, almost lazy in its arrogance.

With a final sneer, Draco turned away, following his mother without so much as a backward glance as they disappeared around the corner of a nearby tent.

As soon as the Malfoys were out of sight, the crowd's attention snapped back to Harry.

"Potter? Is that Harry Potter?" The question rippled through the crowd, passing from person to person in an excited hush. Eyes that had moments ago been wide with fear now shone with curiosity and admiration.

"It is him!" someone else confirmed, their voice tinged with wonder. "Even though his face is swollen, I saw his scar when he raised his wand!"

"Oh, he's the one who defeated You-Know-Who!" The exclamation came from a wizard with a thick Eastern European accent. He turned to his companion, tugging excitedly on the sleeve of their robe. "Cam, quickly get my camera. I want to take a photo of Harry Potter. Your mother has always been curious about him!"

The mention of cameras seemed to break a dam, and suddenly there was a flurry of movement as people began rummaging in bags and pockets for their own magical cameras. Although people were afraid of werewolves and criminals, the foreign wizards who had just backed away couldn't resist their curiosity and slowly began to approach.

"Quick, get inside, Harry—" Harry stood dumbfounded, not expecting so many foreigners to have heard of his name. Hermione, the first to come to her senses, grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him towards the tent.

Harry allowed himself to be led, still blinking in confusion at the rapid turn of events.

"Huh—" Sirius took a deep breath, running a hand through his dark hair in a gesture of mixed exasperation and resignation. "Let's go, Harry, we'll talk inside."

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章 427: 0426 Inside The Tent

If it weren't for Professor Watson's classroom - once used for facing Inferi and hinkypunks, but now serving as a training room for physical education - Harry would have been amazed by the spaciousness inside Sirius's father's tent.

From the outside, the tent appeared only half the size of Hagrid's hut, but inside, it was dozens of times larger. The wizard who created this tent seemed to have transplanted an entire seaside villa into it. Harry's aunt and uncle had always desperately wanted to buy a holiday home in Mallorca, they purchased numerous magazines and brochures about it. The luxurious mansions Harry had seen in those pages were quite similar to the four-story white building before him.

"Wow-" The collective gasp of amazement echoed through the magically expanded space.

The unpleasant events outside had dampened their spirits, but upon seeing the magnificent villa and the enormous, crystal-clear swimming pool stretching out before it, even the most reserved members of their party couldn't help but be impressed. The less restrained Weasley children, in particular, found it impossible to contain their wonder and excitement.

Ron, his freckled face blazing with curiosity, broke away from the group. He rushed to the poolside, crouched down at the pool's edge, and dipped his fingers into the sparkling water. The liquid's perfect temperature and silky texture seemed to confirm its reality. Ron turned to Sirius, his expression a mixture of bewilderment and delight.

"It's a real pool," he exclaimed, his voice filled with awe. "Blimey, I thought it was just some sort of magical illusion!"

Mr. Weasley, his balding head reflecting the soft light, was also awed by the sight before him. His gaze wandered from the large pool to the gently swaying palm trees that lined its edges, then up to the softly glowing orb in the sky that mimicked a perfect summer sun.

"It's truly eye-opening, Sirius-" he said, his voice filled with wonder and a hint of professional curiosity. "This is far more impressive than the tent I borrowed from Perkins. The charms work must be incredibly complex."

Harry, still grappling with the bizarre situation he found himself in, didn't bother wondering about the identity of this Perkins person Mr. Weasley had mentioned. The impact of this luxurious magical tent, as impressive as it was, paled in comparison to the shock of learning that Sirius and the Malfoys were relatives.

The weight of this revelation, coupled with the physical discomfort of his magically enlarged head, was beginning to take its toll. After holding up his comically oversized head for what felt like an eternity, Harry's neck was finally starting to protest with a dull, persistent ache. He raised a hand to his swollen cheek and frowned as he looked pleadingly at Sirius.

Sirius, seeming to finally notice Harry's predicament, turned to address Remus. His voice was calm, but there was an undercurrent of concern as he spoke. "Remus, see if you can help restore Harry's head to its normal size. He ate a piece of enchanted bubblegum earlier, and well..." He gestured vaguely towards Harry's bulbous head.

"I know the kind of bubblegum you're talking about, Not long before you arrived, when I went to fetch water, I saw a little boy with a similar problem. His head was about ten times larger than yours is now, Harry-"

Remus said, eyeing Harry's head with interest.

"But that boy returned to normal almost immediately after swallowing the other half of the gum. I guess you must have inadvertently swallowed both the prank half and the antidote at once, right, Harry?"

Harry could only manage a soft, embarrassed mumble in response, his enlarged lips were making speech difficult. Then, under Remus's expertly cast restoration spell, a tingling sensation spread across Harry's scalp. His head began to deflate with a comical whooshing sound, like air escaping from a balloon, gradually returning to its normal proportions.

Remus walked into the villa to inform Kreacher to serve food to everyone. As the others dispersed to explore this magical tent, Harry seized the opportunity to speak privately with Sirius. Mr. Weasley, sensing the father and son needed to talk, had given a knowing look to the remorseful Ginny before they went inside the villa to explore. By the pool's edge, Ron, Fred, and George were already enthusiastically stripping off their shirts, ready to dive in and show off their swimming skills in the large pool.

"What's really going on, Sirius?" Harry asked, his voice low and tinged with confusion. "You and Draco's mother? How are you related?"

Sirius let out a dry, humorless laugh, "Heh, just as Ron said earlier, Harry-" he began, running a hand through his dark hair. "In the wizarding world, there are some stubborn individuals who refuse to abandon outdated traditions. They're the pure-blood families, obsessed with maintaining what they see as the purity of their magical lineage. They consider it shameful to marry half-bloods or Muggle-borns."

He paused, his gaze distant, as if looking back through the years at a past he'd rather forget. "But this leaves them with few options. To ensure their families don't die out, these pure-blood wizarding families end up intermarrying among themselves. So-" Sirius spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness towards Harry.

Harry wasn't entirely unaware of what Sirius was talking about. He had encountered enough prejudice and whispers of "blood status" during his time at Hogwarts to have a general understanding of the issue. He also knew that these pure-blood families generally had all their members sorted into the same house. It was just like how all the Weasleys were in Gryffindor, while the Malfoys' ancestors were mostly from Slytherin.

Sirius had rarely spoken about his own parents in the past, and Harry had assumed that the Black family, like the Weasleys, was an 'anomaly' among pure-blood wizard families. But from what Draco's mother had said outside earlier, it seemed that Sirius was the real anomaly within his own family.

After a moment of heavy silence, broken only by the distant laughter of the Weasley children splashing in the pool, Harry suddenly frowned as a particular detail from the earlier confrontation resurfaced in his mind. "Draco's mom mentioned someone named Walburga earlier," he said, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Who is she exactly?"

A shadow darker than the tent's magical twilight flashed across Sirius's grey eyes. He took a deep breath and nodded, confirming Harry's unspoken suspicion. "You guessed right, Harry. Walburga Black is - was - my mother. And yes, Narcissa Malfoy is correct in her assessment. My dear old mum didn't like me much, to put it mildly."

Sirius's face twisted into a bitter smile, "In fact, to prevent me from inheriting the family fortune after I ran away, she made a will just before her death. She divided the wealth the family had accumulated over centuries between my two cousins. One of them, is Narcissa Malfoy. And the other, well-" He paused, a look of utter disgust crossing his face. "I really don't like to mention that woman - Bellatrix Lestrange."

Harry's mind raced, trying to connect the dots. Cousins. The word triggered a memory, and he suddenly recalled the night of his fourteenth birthday dinner. Sirius and Remus had talked to him about the dream he'd had. Sirius had initially suspected that the woman in Harry's dream was his cousin, but then immediately mentioned Narcissa Malfoy. So, it must have been this Bellatrix Lestrange?

"That's right, it's her," Sirius confirmed, his voice dripping with disgust. "She was imprisoned in Azkaban with me. Of course, unlike me, she absolutely deserved to be locked up there for the things she'd done. Merlin knows, she reveled in her crimes."

"What did she do?" Harry asked eagerly, realizing for the first time how little he knew about Sirius's background.

Sirius let out a harsh, humorless laugh. "What did she do?" he repeated, his voice thick with loathing. "She was Voldemort's most faithful lapdog, his most fanatical supporter. Believe me, Harry, you won't find anyone more devoted to Voldemort's cause than Bellatrix Lestrange. Even in Azkaban, under the relentless torment of the Dementors, I heard her cackling many times over the years. She would rave about how everyone would pay when Voldemort returned, how the 'mudbloods' and blood traitors would suffer."

"But-" Harry began, still confused and wanting to ask more questions. However, Sirius was clearly losing patience with the subject. He waved his hand irritably, cutting off Harry's half-formed question.

"Don't you understand yet, Harry?" Sirius asked, his voice rising with frustration. "Don't you see what kind of people my mother and my relatives are? The vast majority of them are direct followers of Voldemort. Those who didn't actively participate in his reign of terror still secretly contributed to it.

And my mother, hah, yes, she wasn't a Death Eater herself. But in my opinion, if she had been twenty years younger at the time, who knows what she might have done! Her portrait still hangs in our old family home, spewing hatred and bile at anyone who isn't a pure-blood. That's the kind of family I come from, Harry. That's the legacy I've been trying to escape my entire life."

Sirius's words made Harry's heart heavy. Only now did he truly understand that the injustice Sirius had endured wasn't just being misunderstood by the world for betraying Harry's parents; his own family had probably caused him even greater harm.

As Harry grappled with Sirius's words, Mr. Weasley emerged from the villa, likely coming to call them for dinner. The aromas of a hearty meal wafted from the open door, promising a brief breather from the heavy conversation.

At that moment, the delicate wind chimes hanging outside the tent entrance suddenly rang out and a cheerful voice accompanied the chime's soothing sound.

"Aho, is anyone home? I heard there was a bit of a kerfuffle here, and I had nothing better to do, so I thought I'd pop by and check it out!"

"Oh!" Mr. Weasley's demeanor immediately shifted from concern to excitement. His face lit up with recognition at the sound of the visitor's voice. Quickly circling the expansive pool, he passed Sirius and Harry, heading towards the tent entrance, taking it upon himself to greet the visitor on Sirius's behalf.

"The man of the hour, Ludo!" Mr. Weasley called out cheerfully as he approached the entrance.

"Hey, Arthur, old chap!" The voice outside seemed momentarily taken aback by Mr. Weasley's unexpected presence, but quickly recovered its jovial tone. Before anyone could react, Ludo Bagman barged right into the tent, his large frame filling the entrance before he enthusiastically grasped Mr. Weasley's hand, pumping it up and down in a high-spirited handshake.

Bagman's eyes widened as he took in the luxurious surroundings, his gaze sweeping from the large swimming pool to the elegant villa.

"Is this your tent, Arthur?" he asked, clearly impressed. "It's fantastic! I bet this tent could sell for at least six thousand Galleons on the market!"

As Mr. Weasley engaged in energetic conversation with the newcomer, Harry leaned closer to Ron, who had climbed out of the pool along with Fred and George. "Who is he exactly?" Harry whispered; his curiosity piqued by the stranger's flamboyant entrance.

Ron, pushing his wet hair out of his eyes, replied in a low voice, "That's Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports at the Ministry. He used to be a professional Quidditch player, you know. Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps and the English national team. Dad gets along well with him. He's the one who helped us get our Quidditch World Cup tickets."

Harry nodded in understanding, recalling that Mr. Weasley had indeed mentioned this connection before. He studied the newcomer with interest, taking in every detail of the most eye-catching person he had ever seen in the wizarding world - and given some of the eccentrics he'd encountered at Hogwarts, that was saying something.

Ludo Bagman was dressed in a Quidditch robe that seemed to scream for attention. The fabric was adorned with broad horizontal stripes in vivid yellow and black, resembling a giant bumblebee. Splashed across his chest, like an enormous ink blot was the image of a wasp-- the mascot of his former team. The robe, clearly designed for a man in peak physical condition, now tried its best to contain Bagman's current form.

It was quite obvious that Ludo Bagman had once been a man of impressive physical fitness. However, the passage of time and perhaps a fondness for good food and drink had taken their toll. His robes were stretched tightly across a large belly that protruded prominently, straining the fabric almost to its breaking point. Harry found it difficult to imagine that this man, with his potbelly and ruddy cheeks, had once been nimble and agile enough to play as a Beater for England's national Quidditch team.

Despite his physical transformation, Bagman's eyes still sparkled with the energy and enthusiasm of a much younger man.

"Ludo received a report about a conflict here involving wands, and he's come to investigate," Mr. Weasley explained hurriedly as he led the boisterous man over to where Sirius and Harry stood. "However, I've already explained the misunderstanding to him," he added quickly, attempting to preempt any awkward questions.

Mr. Weasley then turned to Bagman, gesturing towards Sirius with a sweep of his arm. "Actually, Ludo, this tent belongs to Sirius. I'm sure you've heard of him?"

Bagman's eyes widened even further, if that was possible, as they fixed on Sirius. Recognition lit up on his face, quickly followed by an almost childlike excitement. "Ah, of course, a household name!"

"Sirius Black! By Merlin's beard, it's an honor to meet you in person!" Bagman exclaimed, pumping Sirius's hand enthusiastically. "I was in Paris when I read about your story in the papers. Let me tell you, you're a real hero, Sirius!"

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