Number 12, Grimmauld Place, Which Couldn't Escape

Wizet suddenly remembered something. Earlier, when he and Selina Pendragon had discussed how to modify the map in the Map Chamber, she had mentioned the Black Family's assets.

At the time, Ominis Gaunt had interrupted the subject with a cough and reminded Selina Pendragon of something: a decline in talented heirs was often accompanied by a loss of wealth.

But now, it seemed that Ominis Gaunt's judgment had been slightly off. At least in Sirius's generation, the Black Family's wealth remained astonishing.

Perhaps worried that Wizet would not believe him, Sirius shrugged, his expression growing somewhat heavy. "After I was cleared of my charges..."

"Gringotts sent me a lot of letters, all about inheriting estates. Um... a great many of them... and they were very hard to face..."

"Actually, you should know by now... what sort of person I was to the Black Family back then, right?"

Wizet and Luna nodded at the same time. Their experiences at Number 12, Grimmauld Place over the past few days had been enough for them to understand what Sirius meant.

Whether it was Walburga Black in the portrait or Kreacher the House-elf, their attitudes toward Sirius could only be called vile.

The insults in their words all pointed to one thing—Sirius had been cast out of the Black Family.

As for why he had been cast out, it was probably because of their conflicting beliefs. The Black Family believed in "pure-blood supremacy," while Sirius clearly wanted nothing to do with it.

Yet fate had a strange way of playing things out. Sirius's full name had always been Sirius Black. After the other members of the family died one after another, he naturally became the last Black—and the head of the Black Family.

"It's hard to describe how it feels..." Sirius continued. "Some