The Black Young Master's Favor

It was daybreak, and the first ray of sunshine in the morning came over the ridge from the east and shone into the second-floor window of the master bedroom.

Regulus turned around from the window. "Mr. Dupont, let everyone rest in the morning. Take care of those who were injured last night. Those who need to go Saint-Michel don't have to wait.

Arrange a dinner party in the square in front of the main house in the afternoon. Everyone will attend. No work will be done today."

Dupont nodded, and the corners of his bearded mouth pulled up. "Do you want to open the vintage wine in the cellar?"

"Open a few bottles."

Dupont took out his notepad from his robe pocket and tapped it twice with his wand. "Then the batch from 1964 is good enough and not expensive."

After speaking, he glanced at Regulus and saw that he had no other arrangements, so he turned around and walked out.

Regulus looked at Felix: "Mr. Laval, go and connect with Ministry of Magic.

They said that the draft report will be released before the morning. You can take it back and take a look at it. You have signed everything that needs to be signed, and you will also pay attention to the procedures for handing over the prisoners."

"Understood." Felix nodded and went out.

Dupont didn't go far, and stopped in front of a window at the corner of Corridor, leaning against the window frame.

Felix came out of the living room and walked along Corridor to the stairs. When he passed the corner, he saw Dupont.

Dupont came up to him, stared directly at Felix, and asked directly, "The young master from before, when you went out to do things - was it you?"

Felix walked straight forward. When he passed by Dupont, he tilted his head, shrugged and said nothing.

Dupont looked at his back disappearing at the top of the stairs and muttered, "évidemment."

The living room was empty, and Regulus stood by the window for a while.

Baruk turned over on his shoulder, with its belly facing up and its eight legs curled up on its chest. He stretched out his hand to scratch its belly twice, and then said to the empty room, "Let's talk?"

The air shook slightly, ripples appeared, and a person walked out.

The middle-aged witch has a medium build, short dark brown hair that covers her ears, and a few strands of gray at the ends.

She has a round face, well-maintained skin, fine lines at the corners of her eyes, and naturally slightly upturned lips. She looks like she is smiling all the time, like an ordinary witch who can chat with the shopkeeper about the weather for half an hour in a corner grocery store.

She stood a few steps behind Regulus, with her hands folded in front of her.

Regulus turned around and nodded. "What do you call it?"

"Francis Whitmore, Master," her voice was softer than Regulus expected, London had a southern suburbs accent, and the vowels were a bit long. "Just call me Fran."

Regulus stretched out his hand and gestured. "Please sit down, Fran."

She sat down on the chair where Isabelle sat, relaxed her posture, put her hands on her lower abdomen, and looked at Regulus with a smile.

Regulus sat down opposite her.

Baruk turned herself over on his shoulders, stretched out her eight legs, jumped onto the table, and ran to Frances with her eight eyes looking up at her. She opened and closed her chelicerae twice, clicking.

Francis lowered his head and glanced at the palm-sized spider, and the corners of his mouth curved upward. "It's such a big one."

Baruk was so happy when she heard someone praising it, its short legs flipped back and forth, its chelicerae opened to the maximum, and it made a series of clicking sounds.

Regulus ignored it and looked at Francis: "It was hard last night."

"Young Master is the one," Francis smiled, and the lines at the corners of his eyes became deeper. "Master is right."

Regulus raised his eyebrows, it sounded like an elder was saying, your father told me about you.

Francis continued, "The master told us that we just need to cooperate with the young master when we get here. We can't help much. It's mainly because of the young master's own ability."

Regulus thought for a while and realized that his abilities were indeed quite considerable, so he nodded.

Francis looked at his "you're right" expression, and the smile on his face became even bigger, and then he said, "The one in my family is also Hogwarts, and he always talks about you."

Regulus waited for a moment and saw that she didn't say who it was, which college it was, or what grade it was in. That's all.

He didn't ask further questions and replied, "Hogwarts If you need help over there, you can tell me."

Francis smiled and nodded, then stood up. "Let's go first, Master. It's over. It's not appropriate to stay here as a tourist attraction for France Auror. Go back and wait for Master's arrangements."

After saying that, he turned around and left. When he got to the door, he opened the door and walked into Corridor. The footsteps rang outside the door a few times before disappearing.

No one worked or slept in the morning.

The battlefield on the west slope still retains the appearance of last night, with deep trenches on the ground, broken rocks, and burned remains of shrubs.

Several people went to see it together, and they talked a lot after they came back.

News spread in the manor that the young master of Black family had taken over more than forty adult wizards by himself.

A young employee squatted in the corner of Corridor, gesticulating and talking so loudly that he could hear it through two walls.

"Have you seen that pit? The whole ground has been overturned! And that stone is taller than me! There are cracks from top to bottom, and there is still heat coming out of it! It's hot! It's been a night and it hasn't cooled down yet!"

Another voice broke with excitement and spoke very fast, "He just walked out alone. I saw him going out, walking towards the west slope alone with a spider on his shoulder. I thought at the time, is he crazy?"

"Then what?"

"Then it dawned!" The man turned his head and looked both ways, and said in a mysterious tone, "I tell you, it didn't dawn at all! The sky was on fire! Blue and white fire covered the entire top of the head, from one end to the other, it was all fire!"

A young female employee looked up at the ceiling of Corridor. She squatted in the main room all night last night and did see out of the window. "I thought it was placed by Auror."

"It's not Auror, it's him from beginning to end!"

Madeleine was sitting on the stone steps at the door of the brewing room, holding a cigarette in his mouth. The smoke floated upward in the morning sunshine and was blown away by the wind. His expression returned to his usual stinky expression.

A young man ran up to her and asked her what happened last night. She glared at him and blew out a puff of smoke from her nostrils. "Get out."

Near noon, Felix came back and found Regulus in the living room.

Regulus was leaning against the window and flipping through a Beauxbatons sixth-grade textbook, a section about the relationship between Magic Power refraction and diversion of minerals.

Felix closed the door and stood in front of the table.

"All the connections have been completed, the draft report has been confirmed, the characterization is consistent with what was discussed last night, and the prisoner transfer procedures have been completed. The efficiency there is pretty good."

Regulus closed the book and sighed.

Felix took out two things from the inner pocket of his robe and placed them on the table.

An old key and a small silver ball the size of a thumb.

Felix said, "Ms. De·Lavine asked me to hand over these two items."

"About Portkey, her original words were," he pushed the key in front of Regulus and changed his tone. "Considering the particularity of Mr. Black's recent trip, French Ministry of Magic specially provided an officially certified cross-border Portkey, to ensure that Mr. Black can return to UK through the safest and most convenient official channels. This is France's standard courtesy to important partners and does not come with any obligations. Mr. Black can be used at any convenient time."

Regulus picked up the key and turned it over.

It was made of copper, as if it had been unearthed from a trash heap. Half of the surface was black, and the other half was patinaed. At the end was a small piece of faded blue ribbon with loose threads.

Standard courtesy, no obligations attached, any convenient time.

France must have checked his entry record.

Orion has arranged legal entry and exit files for France, Portkey, activation time, port registration, and visitor records of the manor. Each one is in compliance.

But if France people really want to investigate, they can find a pair of confessions from the filing personnel according to the time on the file, and a loophole will appear.

They did find out, and the message given to Portkey was very clear. We know that you did not come in through the front door, so we will give you a key to the front door. Use the front door next time.

Or to put it more bluntly, stop making trouble, you should go back.

Very polite.

"About this, her original words were," Felix pointed at the silver ball and continued to relay, "During the process of cleaning up the physical evidence related to Delacroix gang, an alchemy product suspected to be involved in Black family's personal affairs was discovered. After preliminary testing, the The object contains curse residue that needs professional treatment. France believes that due to the nature of the object, returning it to the party concerned is the most appropriate way to deal with it. France has not cracked or extracted it in any form, and does not have any relevant information about it."

Regulus looked at the small alchemical ball, spread Magic Perception over it, and instantly discovered its alchemical circuit.

Very simple function, record sound.

He probably guessed what was recorded in it. When Delacroix and Bellatrix met, he kept a secret and recorded the entire conversation.

It's just waiting for Bellatrix to fall out someday. This thing is evidence and can be handed over to the right person.

The evidence has not been used yet, the person died first.

As for the curse above, no need to guess, it was the work of Bellatrix again.

The current Bellatrix is indeed different. After being transformed by Voldemort, it is quieter, sicker, and more intelligent.

Fanaticism will definitely not diminish, but when it is swayed by IQ, it becomes something more dangerous.

It's impossible for France to break the curse. No matter how clever Bellatrix's methods are, they won't be enough in front of a country's Ministry of Magic.

As for whether France people touched the ball, looked at it or not, since they said they didn't look at it, then he believed that they didn't look at it.

Once you see it, you will know it. Once you know it, you must have an attitude. If you have an attitude, you must deal with it. Dealing with it will be troublesome.

So they choose not to watch it because they don't want to have an attitude. Not wanting to have an attitude is itself an attitude.

The meaning of handing it back is equally clear. You can clean up your mess by yourself and we will not interfere with it.

Looking at the two things together, France people have done a lot of homework in this short morning, and may have spelled out the whole story.

I'll give you Portkey, I'll give you the physical evidence, and then you can go.

Regulus's mouth twitched.

France people are quite particular about what they do, but drive them away?

"Is there anything else?"

Felix shook his head. "That's all."

"Okay," Regulus opened the book again. "You will also come to the afternoon dinner party."

The afternoon sun made the square in front of the main house shine brightly. Several long tables were placed randomly, covered with light beige tablecloths, and the corners were gently blown by the wind.

Seven or eight grills were set up in the center of the square, with a whole leg of lamb and several skewers of French sausages placed on each iron frame. The fat dripping on the charcoal fire made a sizzling sound, and the smoke drifted upward.

The table was filled with things, including a whole grilled salmon, the skin of which was browned, Baguette stacked in a small mountain, Brie cut open and placed on the wooden board. Next to it were a small plate of fig jam, several large bowls of Provence stew, tomatoes, eggplants and zucchini stewed until they were soft and rotten, with a shiny surface.

There were wine bottles in a row, six bottles of Dupont were opened, the year was marked 1964, and there were also a few bottles of lemonade with ice cubes for those who didn't drink.

The employees filed out of the bamboo hut, and the young people were the first to rush to the long table. Some people tore a piece of bread and stuffed it into their mouths, some ran to Dupont with wine, and some gathered around the grill to watch the heat.

Baruk couldn't rest at all after he regained his large size. The dark red figure about two meters long ran around in the square, with eight long legs flying very fast. He ran from the wall of the main room to the pergola, and then ran back from the pergola. Every time he passed the long table, the cups and saucers on the table trembled.

Regulus asked Dupont to prepare a large clay pot for it, and placed it under an old olive tree in the corner of the square. Inside was the Swedish Short-Snout neck meat that Felix got from Marseille, cut into thick strips.

Baruk After running around for a few times, he found a large basin. The spider's head slammed into it, and he picked up a Dragon Meat with his chelicerae and stuffed it into his mouth.

The mouthparts grind it quickly, and the strips of meat are cut off in the middle, and half of them fall outside the basin. It lowers its head and uses its chelicerae to pick up the fallen strips of meat and stuffs them back into its mouth.

The spider's head was buried in the basin, buttocks were sticking out. Claire came over from the long table carrying a glass of lemonade, stopped a few meters away from Baruk, and raised the corners of his mouth.

She put the lemonade on the Stone Platform next to her, bent her waist and walked around behind Baruk, and leaned forward gently.

Baruk was concentrating on dealing with another Dragon Meat, holding it between its chelicerae and bringing it to its mouth, while the spider's head tilted slightly.

Claire took another step forward and stretched his fingers towards the bristles on Baruk's carapace.

Baruk's butt suddenly stuck out, and a fluff of silver-white spider silk as thick as a little finger shot out from the spinneret, accurately sticking to Claire's stretched out hand.

It twisted its butt to the side, and the spider silk grabbed Claire's hand and brought it to its side.

Claire staggered forward, and his other hand instinctively reached for the ground. Baruk's second spider silk shot over again, this time to his ankle.

Then it pulled the spider's head out of the basin and trotted around Claire. The spider silk was wrapped from her arms to her shoulders, from her shoulders to her waist, and then from her waist to her legs.

In less than two seconds, Claire was wrapped into a silver-white human-shaped cocoon, with only his head and a pair of wide-eyed eyes exposed.

Several young employees around him laughed out loud at the same time, some clapped, some sprayed wine, and some slapped the table.

Baruk stopped, lowered his head to admire his work, stretched out a front leg, and poked it gently with the tip of his claws.

Then it raised its spider head, opened its chelicerae to its maximum, and made a long series of clicking sounds.

Very proud.

"Help!" Claire was lying on the ground as a cocoon, and the spider silk became tighter and tighter. "Who can help me get rid of this--"

Regulus sat at the end of the long table and watched this scene, with the corners of his mouth raised.

He snapped his fingers, and the spider silk on Claire broke and fell to the ground.

Claire got up from the ground, patted the dust on his pants, and stared at Baruk.

Baruk had already put the spider's head back into the big basin and continued to eat, with his butt facing her and ignoring it.

Claire's face turned red instantly, and there were people laughing around him.

The sun moved westward above the head, the heat of the afternoon began to subside, and most of the smell of barbecue in the air disappeared.

The young employees were still making noise at the long table. Some were recounting the details of last night, while others were already tired from talking and dozed off on the edge of the table.

Regulus stood up, holding a glass of lemonade in his hand.

The surrounding voices gradually became quieter.

"Thank you for your hard work last night," Regulus's tone was gentle, and the voice carried far away. The person who was still talking stopped, and the person who was lying on the edge of the table also raised his head. "The matter in the manor has been taken care of, don't worry, it will be business as usual from now on."

"Each person will receive a bonus of one year's salary. Mr. Dupont will arrange it."

Dupont nodded across the long table, picked up the notepad and drew on it.

The square was quiet for a while, and then cheers erupted from all directions. Someone whistled, someone raised the wine glass to the sky, and someone shouted, "Vive monsieur black!"

Followed by a series of whistles and applause.

"Dupont! Mr. Dupont! Is it true?"

"One year?"

"When will it be sent?"

Regulus sat back and put the lemonade on the table.

As the sun continues to move west, the shadow changes from short to long, stretching from the center of the square towards the stone wall, and the scorching sunlight in the afternoon turns into the soft golden color of the evening.

Most of the food on the long table had been wiped out, and several wine bottles were empty.

The young people were still making noise, and someone was singing some kind of ballad by Southern France. The tune was very off-key, but the voice was loud.

Baruk's spider head has been pulled out of the empty basin, and its front legs are resting on the edge of the basin, looking like it is full and satisfied.

Twilight spreads from east to west, the sky changes from gold to orange to dark blue to gray purple, and the first star lights up in the west.

Regulus found Felix: "The follow-up matters are left to you, Ministry of Magic's connection, manor restoration, and security restoration."

Felix nodded. "Bonne chance, young master."

Regulus twitched the corner of his mouth. "Merci."

Then turned around and walked into the main house.

Baruk ran over from under the olive tree, its eight legs flying very fast, stopped at his feet, and then lay down, with the spider's head tilted up and its eight eyes facing him.

He flicked his fingers, and Baruk shrank, jumped up on his shoulders, rubbed against his neck, and lay still.

When he walked to the door of the main house, Regulus looked back at the square.

On the long table were half a bottle of wine, a few pieces of leftover bread, scattered plates, and scattered bones.

There was a whole day between these daily things sitting quietly in the dusk and the battlefield under the curtain of fire last night.

He opened the door and walked in.