An hour later, lunch was over.
Shawn brought Harry, who had eaten a little too much, into the sitting room. Once they sat down, Shawn poured him a cup of hot tea before offering an apology.
"I'm very sorry for the inappropriate things my grandmother said to you downstairs."
Harry had been discreetly rubbing his stomach to help his food settle. At those words, he waved his hands hastily.
"It's all right. That-that was just a magical portrait. I don't mind."
Shawn wasn't genuinely apologizing, of course. It was merely a way to steer the conversation toward his intended topic.
"Harry, she's my grandmother. How should I put it? She used to be a dignified, elegant woman, but certain things drove her a little mad. She even instilled the memories and beliefs she held after losing her mind into her magical portrait."
Harry's curiosity was immediately piqued.
"What things?"
Shawn lifted his cup and took a sip before answering unhurriedly.
"As you could tell, my grandmother was an extreme believer in pure-blood supremacy, and practically every official member of the Black family was the same.
"I might not seem that way, but I was simply lucky. That's because I no longer had any elders around."
Harry wasn't surprised that a pure-blood family held such views. Learning that Shawn was an orphan too made him feel an even deeper connection, but he wasn't good with words and couldn't think of anything comforting to say.
Shawn gave him a gentle smile and continued.
"In a family like mine, anyone who refused to support pure-blood supremacy used to be cast out.
"Your godfather, Sirius Black, for example."
Harry froze. From everything he had learned over the past six months, everyone said Sirius was a villain, one of Voldemort's lackeys.
"But-but wasn't Sirius supposed