Witcher at Hogwarts

Read up to 25 chapters ahead on Patreon - patreon.com/Dark_sym

-----

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Sirius said nervously.

"My mother—she's not in her right mind these days."

"It's alright, Sirius. Let me speak with her," Dumbledore replied gently.

"I know she's been through a lot, and it's natural for her to have strong emotions."

Sirius sighed deeply, reluctant but yielding. Dumbledore's calm insistence left him with no choice but to hope his mother's portrait wouldn't spiral into madness.

Sirius led Dumbledore to the portrait of his mother, the formidable Walburga Black.

"Prof. Dumbledore, you'd better brace yourself," Sirius warned, taking a deep breath before pulling back the velvet curtain that covered the portrait.

The image of the pale-skinned woman in a black hat was revealed. When the light hit her, Walburga Black's eyes snapped open, ready to unleash her usual screams and invectives. But then she saw Dumbledore standing before her.

Her venomous words caught in her throat.

"Albus, is that you?" she asked, her tone laced with suspicion.

"It is, Walburga. I've come to see you," Dumbledore replied softly.

"Walburga, I'm here to pay my respects. Both Regulus and Sirius are exceptional wizards. In the most trying times, they chose the path of righteousness."

Dumbledore removed his hat, holding it to his chest as he spoke with solemnity.

"Thank you, Albus. Regulus…he was always my pride," Mrs. Black said quietly, her eyes softening. As for Sirius, she pretended not to see him.

Ethan, standing nearby, watched the scene with curiosity. This was the first time he had seen Dumbledore so composed and able to engage in normal conversation.

"They are a source of pride for me as well, Walburga. Hogwarts is honored to have nurtured such warriors," Dumbledore continued.

"Thank you, Albus, thank you," Mrs. Black repeated, her voice more subdued.

The two elders then drifted into a conversation about the past, mostly centered on Regulus. Dumbledore recounted many of Regulus's school days, tales Mrs. Black hadn't heard in years. Though it had been so long, she cherished the chance to converse normally again.

But all things must come to an end.

A hesitant expression crossed Mrs. Black's face as their conversation wound down. After a moment of contemplation, she seemed to reach a decision. Her gaze sharpened as she looked at Dumbledore.

"Albus, there is something I wish to discuss with you alone," she said, casting a disdainful glance at Ethan and Sirius.

"Of course, Walburga," Dumbledore agreed. He waved a hand at Ethan and Sirius, signaling them to leave.

Once they had gone upstairs, Dumbledore turned back to Mrs. Black.

"Walburga, you can speak freely now," Dumbledore said, reassuring Mrs. Black.

"You know, Albus, I'm just a portrait. But I don't stay in this frame every day—it gets too lonely," Mrs. Black began, her voice uneasy.

"Sometimes, I visit portrait gatherings, and at one of these gatherings, I noticed a new presence," she recalled.

"At first, I didn't pay much attention to him, but soon I realized something was off—he didn't seem like an ordinary painting," Mrs. Black continued, her tone tinged with fear.

"How was he different?" Dumbledore asked, his curiosity piqued as he realized Mrs. Black's story was more than idle gossip.

"He wasn't so much a portrait as he was... a mirror—a cold, lifelike mirror, unlike anything I've ever seen," Mrs. Black explained.

"He conversed with us all. At first, he seemed fascinated with becoming a portrait, asking how we were created. I thought he was just a curious bystander and paid him little mind."

"But then, he began seeking out portraits of those who once held high positions, asking about souls," Mrs. Black said, her fear growing.

Dumbledore's expression darkened. What he initially thought would be a simple conversation had taken a sinister turn.

"What happened next?" Dumbledore asked, now on edge.

"Afterward, none of the portraits who spoke with him ever returned to the gatherings. That's when I realized something was wrong. I stopped attending those gatherings, but even now, I can't shake the feeling that something—or someone—is watching me," Mrs. Black confessed, her worry palpable.

"Walburga, can you describe what this person looked like?" Dumbledore asked seriously.

"That's the most terrifying part—I can't remember his appearance! It's as if the memory has been erased," Mrs. Black said, her voice trembling.

"Try to stay calm, Walburga," Dumbledore said gently, trying to soothe her nerves.

"Is there anything else you can recall about him? Anything at all?"

"I only remember his presence," Mrs. Black said, closing her eyes in concentration.

"Do you recall the incident many years ago when the mad wizard Rasputin summoned a demon in Eastern Europe? The one that caused so much chaos?" Mrs. Black asked.

"Yes, I remember," Dumbledore replied gravely.

"That disaster claimed the lives of many powerful wizards before the demon was banished."

"Exactly," Mrs. Black nodded.

"His presence was somewhat similar to that demon's—cold and menacing, but somehow even more chilling."

She paused, searching for the right words. "It was like... death itself was staring at me."

"Thank you for sharing this with me, Walburga," Dumbledore said, his voice heavy with concern.

"I will investigate what you've told me."

"No need to thank me, Albus. We were friends once, weren't we?" Mrs. Black said, adjusting her hat to regain her composure.

"And we still are, Walburga," Dumbledore replied with a gentle smile.

"Now, I must take my leave. Sirius intends to retrieve Regulus's body," Dumbledore said, his voice softening.

"My poor Regulus," Mrs. Black murmured, her eyes again filling with tears.