HP: Redemption of The Platinum Boy

Chapter 80: The Traitor of the Pure-Blood Family

A/N: If you've made it this far, congratulations 🎉 and thank you so much for all your support! From now on, updates are going to slow down and won't be regular. 3–4 new chapters will be posted every few days.

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Chapter Eighty: The Traitor of the Pure-Blood Family

This was the first Hogsmeade weekend of the school year.

It was still early, and the morning mist had not yet dissipated. A platinum-blond boy emerged from the mist and hurried along the busiest cobblestone street in Hogsmeade village.

He was Draco Malfoy.

He emerged from Honeydukes sweetshop, walked past groups of Hogwarts students, and without looking to either side, passed the bustling Zonko's Joke Shop. Finally, under the watchful eyes of several Dementors, he pushed open the door of the Three Broomsticks, a frequent haunt of Hogwarts students.

The Three Broomsticks was a warm, cozy place where you could enjoy Butterbeer.

Although they also offered lemonade, mulled mead, red wine, and even cherry juice, iced soda with a small umbrella, and the simplest sparkling water, people still loved to come here in the afternoon, order a Butterbeer, and enjoy a drink with a few friends.

At this moment, Draco looked around at the customers in the pub—there weren't many people yet.

With his hands in his pockets and head casually tilted, he exchanged a few words with Madam Rosmerta, who was enthusiastically greeting customers at the door, before swaggering over to sit down in an empty booth in the corner.

Across from him in the booth sat a handsome man with a gloomy expression.

His skin was deathly pale, like a vampire, radiating an aura that kept strangers at bay. His black hair hung down before his eyes, and he occasionally sipped his whisky, seemingly weary of everything around him.

"Another drink!" He waved his empty glass at Madam Rosmerta at the door, then stared blankly into space, as motionless as a statue of a Greek god.

Madam Rosmerta approached with a swagger, carrying a tray.

She was a beautiful, curvaceous woman. Draco was certain she'd given the Black heir a flirtatious look as she set down his whisky glass, but he hadn't been swayed at all.

So she casually placed the other glass of sparkling water before Draco and walked away disappointed.

Sirius Black's aloof demeanor did not dampen the enthusiasm of those around him. Several older Hogwarts girls were hiding in a nearby booth, watching him, whispering amongst themselves, and occasionally letting out silly giggles.

He paid no attention to the girls. He simply raised his eyelids, glanced at the boy who'd just sat down opposite him, and didn't smile.

He stopped wasting expressions and treated Draco like an ordinary boy.

He no longer displayed the same gentle and friendly attitude he showed toward Harry's other Gryffindor friends.

After that night and witnessing everything that happened in the Headmaster's office, he understood that Draco Malfoy, his distant nephew, was not as innocent as he appeared.

He was actually very mature and experienced. Since that was the case, there was no need to treat the boy opposite him like an ignorant child.

This boy was by no means ignorant. The lively and cheerful demeanor he'd displayed when visiting Grimmauld Place, and the seemingly innocent questions he'd asked, were probably all an act.

Not every student had the ability to stand in the Headmaster's office late at night, plotting something with Dumbledore. Draco Malfoy was involved in certain matters too deeply, perhaps even more deeply than Harry.

Why would this child from a pure-blood family, who was clearly cunning, pretend to be innocent and naive when approaching Harry? Was he genuinely sincere, or did he have ulterior motives?

Did he know about the Hufflepuff Cup, or what Sirius had done to deceive Narcissa?

Sirius casually sized him up, but remained extremely wary.

Draco felt his gaze. He pursed his lips, maintaining his indifferent expression. He felt a surge of disgust toward Sirius Black, and the thought of his deception of his mother, Narcissa, filled him with rage.

Even though he'd bravely destroyed that Cup, he's still an arrogant git, Draco thought with a stern face.

If Harry hadn't asked him to, he would have loved to just walk away and return to Honeydukes.

He'd rather spend the whole day helping that clueless little witch pick out sweets than sit across from this traitor of the pure-blood family and see the poker face of that unruly Black family heir.

"Draco Malfoy, what brings you here?" Sirius asked casually.

"Sirius Black," Draco said coldly, taking a sip from his glass. "Harry asked me to give you a message."

Sirius was slightly surprised by his purpose. He lowered some of his guard. "Oh, really? I thought he'd come to see me himself, instead of—"

"Sending me, a Malfoy, to deliver a message for him?" Draco replied indifferently. "He's been detained and won't be able to come to Hogsmeade today."

"Why can't he come? Doesn't he want to see me?" Sirius asked suspiciously.

"Quite the opposite. He wants to see you. He's been given detention by Professor Snape," Draco said bluntly.

"Oh," Sirius said dryly.

"He's very worried about you. He's been concerned about your condition ever since you left the hospital wing." Draco scoffed. "You'd better write him a few more letters, Harry's godfather!"

"Yes, that's true. You're actually quite concerned about him?" Sirius asked inquisitively. "You two are so close? How unexpected! Is it common for Gryffindors and Slytherins to be friends at Hogwarts these days? The two Houses are no longer in constant conflict, but are now like family?"

"It's not common. There's always bickering and provocation between the two Houses," Draco said coldly. "I get advised by some Slytherins every few days to keep my distance from the Gryffindors."

"Oh, in that case, how do you maintain your friendship?" Sirius said lazily. "Or rather, how did you even begin to build your friendship?"

"I don't see the need to explain my friendship with Harry to you." Sensing the sharpness in his words, Draco's own words became sharp as well. "It's as if you haven't explained why you coaxed and tricked my mother into giving you a certain historical memento—even though it didn't belong to you at all."

Sirius casually flicked his wand, seemingly casting a Muffliato or privacy charm.

In an instant, the surrounding noise disappeared, and the world became extremely quiet. They could no longer hear the deliberately amplified laughter of the silly witches around them, just as the girls could no longer hear what they were discussing.

"I don't believe Dumbledore didn't explain the danger of that thing to you," Sirius said calmly. "Didn't you also take a little trinket from me? That locket?"

"Yes, and then your house-elf destroyed it," Draco reminded him. "I didn't try to trick or coax it. In this matter, I'm more honest than you, Sirius Black!"

"What, are you here to avenge your mother?" Sirius raised an eyebrow, his tone threatening. "My dear cousin Narcissa, does she know what you're doing?"

Draco stared at him, a sudden tightness gripping his heart.

"I suspect she doesn't know, otherwise she wouldn't have given that Cup away so easily," Sirius said calmly. "Oh, but I know what's inside that Cup, just like that locket—it's not simple. They're not just Dark artifacts, nor are they just keepsakes given by the Dark Lord to his followers for safekeeping. Dumbledore tried to be vague with me, but he can't fool a Black."

Draco was struck dumb.

He gripped the glass of sparkling water tightly, took a sip as cover, and, with slight fizzing on his tongue, peered through the glass at the unpredictable young man opposite him.

He was waiting for the other party to speak up and expose Draco Malfoy's carefully executed secret activities, thus hindering the work that Draco Malfoy had painstakingly built up throughout this life.

Draco had foreseen this day long before he'd known what Regulus was doing.

The Black family had a long and distinguished history. Families with such rich heritage often possessed numerous books and had extensive knowledge of Dark magic.

Regulus had been willing to risk his life to retrieve the locket, and even considered defecting at the last minute, risking becoming a "traitor to the pure-blood family" to destroy it. He'd probably already known that this thing was a Horcrux.

If he could figure it out, there was no reason why his brother, Sirius Black, couldn't.

It was only a matter of time before Sirius Black touched upon these truths.

"That's a Horcrux, isn't it?" Sirius stared intently at him.

As expected. Draco's heart pounded, though his face remained expressionless.

"Does it matter whether it is or not?" Draco's voice was like an iceberg floating on the sea, with massive unease hidden beneath its calm surface.

"You've been investigating Horcruxes in secret, haven't you? You didn't tell your parents, did you?" Sirius's grey eyes stared at him for a long moment. "You intend to bear all of this alone, like foolish Regulus, don't you?"

His words were like sharp arrows, hitting the bullseye.

"What's it to you?" Draco said coldly after a pause. "And what makes you think Regulus was stupid?"

"Isn't he stupid?" Sirius took a large gulp of whisky, his eyes seemingly reddening. "He's a complete idiot! He knew my stance! He wanted to oppose Voldemort—he could have come to me, we could have worked together—"

"Don't say that name!" Draco said with disgust.

"You coward!" Sirius sneered. "You're just like Regulus! You're doing things against Voldemort, but you don't dare call him by his name? I truly don't understand what you Slytherins are thinking!"

"That's right. You don't understand Regulus's thoughts, nor do you understand Slytherin's," Draco said coldly, a sudden pang of sadness gripping his heart. "You don't understand what he was carrying. You don't understand what he feared. You don't understand the heart of a Slytherin protecting his family."

"Draco Malfoy, don't put on this mature act. Just because you're a Slytherin doesn't mean you can understand my brother!" Sirius gave him a disdainful look. "How much do you understand Regulus? You haven't even—have you ever met him in person?"

"I haven't actually met him. But that doesn't mean I can't empathize with him. You're saying he was being stupid by not coming to you?" Draco retorted angrily. "If he'd come to you and openly stood on your side, do you know what that means? It means the Black family would be directly opposed to the Dark Lord. Would the Black family still have had a chance to survive?"

"That's all nonsense," Sirius said dismissively. "We should oppose openly—"

Draco interrupted him.

"Why do you think Great-Aunt Walburga died peacefully in her bed at Grimmauld Place, instead of dying a gruesome death under Azkaban or the Dark Lord's wand?" Draco, speaking from Regulus's perspective, imagined what he might have done. "Under those circumstances, if the Black family, as staunch supporters of the Dark Lord, were to switch sides, they would surely face his purge. Continuing to openly support the old pure-blood ideology would be safer. It was the optimal choice after weighing the pros and cons. He chose to silently sacrifice himself, secretly completing what he believed in. At the same time, he didn't want to burden the family but instead did his utmost to preserve it."

Sirius said somewhat sullenly, "Preserve the family? That sounds noble! If it were you, you might not be so certain..."

Draco's throat was dry from talking. He took a sip of water and finally calmly gave his conclusion. "If I were in his position, I would have done the same thing."

"You!" Sirius stared at him in astonishment, as if meeting him for the first time. "You're just a teenager, yet you dare to say such things! Do you even understand the meaning behind these words?"

"Is it hard to understand? He was willing to face all dangers and bear all responsibilities himself to protect his family, regardless of whether they disagreed with his beliefs or were stubborn and conservative. He'd rather drink the poison himself than let the house-elf drink it—he considered Kreacher as part of the family." Draco said scathingly, with a mocking smile. "Sirius Black, could you do that? What were you doing while he was shouldering all of this? You were busy chasing freedom and upholding justice with your Gryffindor friends. You didn't consider whether he could bear it all—the expectations of his family, the shattering of his faith, the fear of learning the Dark Lord's secret..."

As he spoke, Draco felt a pang of sadness. He sympathized with Regulus, with that frail eighteen-year-old boy who carried the weight of everything.

In some ways, he empathized with Regulus.

That feeling of loneliness—carrying a huge secret, feeling terrified, and having nobody to turn to for help.

Nobody could understand him. Nobody.

"No, that's not it!" Sirius said, frowning, a rare look of panic on his face. "I tried to persuade him to give up his identity as a Death Eater, but he was too stubborn. I also tried to persuade him to leave Grimmauld Place with me, to leave those toxic ideas, but he was too cowardly..."

"Sirius Black, you don't understand one thing! What I'm discussing with you isn't personal choice, but the safety of the family!" Draco took a deep breath. "In that particular circumstance, the Black family was already firmly tied to the Dark Lord's cause. The Black family needed a descendant to step forward and take responsibility for all of this, regardless of honor or disgrace, success or failure."

Sirius fell silent, looking at the boy opposite him—who continued in a cruelly calm tone, "Sirius Black, that descendant—it was either him or you. You ran away, he chose to stay. You call him a coward, but what is courage?"

"I can't understand this kind of courage. I still think it's foolish." Taking a large gulp of his drink, Sirius said, "The so-called 'courage' of the Slytherins is nothing but cowardice. It's nothing but prolonging life, surviving in the cracks, and contributing to the spread of toxic ideas."

Draco glared at him, feeling that his painstakingly crafted speech had been completely misunderstood.

"Yes, you deserve to be reckless and impulsive, spending twelve years in Azkaban! Your mother died with nobody to claim her body, and the family estate was left unattended! Even after your release, you still shirk your responsibilities as godfather, letting your enemy who betrayed your friends roam the world, hiding in your room drowning your sorrows in alcohol. Is this what you call courage?" he said scathingly. "If that's the case, then the courage of the Gryffindors is nothing more than self-deception! What makes you so noble?"

Sirius's face darkened.

Draco thought he would be angry and furious, but to his surprise, the man opposite him showed a numb and indifferent expression.

"That's right," he chuckled, a weariness on his proud face revealing his approaching decline. "I never claimed to be noble. Nor am I brave. In fact, the Sirius Black of the past died—along with James Potter—at the age of twenty-two. What lives now is nothing but a walking corpse, not the brave Gryffindor of the past."

"It seems that what happened to Harry's father has been a great blow to you. I'm very sorry about that." After a pause, Draco said, looking at the Black family patriarch before him.

Sirius Black, a once-promising but now diminished prodigy. He'd been such a dazzling and brilliant young man, the most spirited presence at Hogwarts, possessing a fiery passion that the cold Slytherins could not comprehend.

However, his brilliant life had come to an abrupt end when he'd entered Azkaban at twenty-two, and he'd spent the best years of his life among the Dementors.

In his previous life, his father Lucius had stayed in Azkaban for only a year before he was already haggard. What kind of tragic ordeal had Sirius Black gone through all these years?

Forget it, why bother arguing with him? Draco was too weary to keep arguing with him.

"Yesterday is gone. You're not alone. You still have Harry to care for. How long are you going to stay so despondent?" He suppressed his temper and couldn't help adding a few words.

He simply couldn't stand the half-dead state of the man opposite him.

In his previous life, Sirius Black had escaped Azkaban alone and lived a life of hiding as a wanted criminal, like a stray dog. In this life, he'd cleared his name and was innocent. He could accomplish so much more instead of wallowing in the past and living such a miserable and dejected life.

"I know. I'm just having trouble getting over it right now," Sirius murmured.

"I won't give you any of that 'time heals all wounds' nonsense. You need to pull yourself together! While you're spending your time reminiscing about the past, your dear godson—James Potter's son—could be in danger. Is that something you want to see? Do you want to regret it when it's too late?" Draco pressed.

Sirius looked up at him, his face showing exhaustion and weariness.

"And then there's your 'old friend'—Peter Pettigrew—who's getting closer and closer to Hogwarts. Whatever he's planning, I believe it's so important that he can overcome his fear and face the challenge. Don't you want to catch him and avenge Harry's parents?" Draco continued to provoke him.

These words clearly had an effect.

A flame reignited in Sirius's lifeless eyes—a raging fire intertwined with resentment and vengeance.

That's the kind of expression Sirius Black should have.

"I know Peter Pettigrew—he wouldn't dare go to Hogwarts and kill someone," he said dismissively.

"What if he has ulterior motives? He's been in Azkaban for a while—who knows if he might have been misled by some mad Death Eater during that time?" Draco asked tentatively.

"It's not impossible." Sirius finally started to think. "If that's the case, then it's not Peter Pettigrew's personal act, but rather a planned attack by the Death Eaters. In the end, it all comes down to that damned Voldemort."

"Don't say that name!" Draco said irritably.

"Coward! Wimp! Incompetent wretch!" Sirius said defiantly, glancing at him sidelong. "Someone like you thinks you can destroy Horcruxes? You don't even dare tell your parents what you're doing."

"What, are you going to betray me? Tell my parents that their son is a traitor to the pure-blood family? Tell my father, a former Death Eater, that his son betrayed his former master? Would you be happy if my mother suffered the same fate as Great-Aunt Walburga?" Draco glared at him, thinking he was the most ungrateful Gryffindor in the world.

"On the contrary, I will never tell them. I will help you." Hearing his words, Sirius's face showed a childlike smile, and his eyes flashed with a strange light. "You foolish, cowardly Slytherin! Timid Slytherin! I will help you."

Now it was Draco's turn to become a statue.

The reversal was so dramatic that Draco almost lost control of his facial expressions.

"What should I do? What can I do? Tell me." Sirius looked directly at him.

"Is this some kind of trap? Something to entrap me? Like what you did to my mother?" Draco asked menacingly.

"Absolutely not. Listen, I'm sorry about what happened with your mother," Sirius said seriously. "At that time, I didn't know what you were doing behind the scenes. If you were me, knowing that the Cup was suspicious, and there was only one way forward, what would you do?"

Draco remained silent.

If he were in Sirius's position—he would certainly have used every means to take that Horcrux from Narcissa.

After mentally reviewing the situation, Draco realized there was indeed no better way.

However, for the time being, he could not accept that his family had been deceived, nor could he accept that his family might face retribution someday as a result.

After a long pause, Draco finally said to Sirius, "I've decided to let bygones be bygones. However, don't deceive my family again, or we can't work together."

"Understood," Sirius said lazily, extending his hand to the boy before him. "Cooperation?"

"Cooperation." Draco hesitated before extending his hand and shaking it.

"Now, tell me. What are you and Dumbledore planning to do next?" Sirius licked his lips. "Horcruxes—besides the Cup and the locket—there are probably others, aren't there?"

Draco looked at him in surprise. How did he know everything?

"No need to be so surprised. The way you destroyed Horcruxes is far too practiced." Sirius's eyes were sharp, and his expression was calm. "Back then, you were very certain that the fang could destroy the locket. It was as if—it had destroyed other Horcruxes before. Since it had destroyed other Horcruxes before, it means there are more than just one or two Horcruxes. There must be others that haven't yet been discovered and destroyed."

"That's right. We suspect there might be other Horcruxes." Draco said quickly, his heart filled with astonishment at Sirius's keen perception. "We're looking for a ring—the Peverell Ring. And Hepzibah Smith—she might be key to understanding Tom Riddle—the Dark Lord."

Upon hearing this, Sirius Black revealed a dangerous smile, like an assassin who'd found his target.