When he stepped outside, he found the hallway transformed. A clean cashmere carpet covered the floor, the wall lamps gleamed, and the musty stench he had smelled before had vanished.
He made his way downstairs to the sitting room, which had been tidied up even more thoroughly. The antique furniture shone with a fresh coat of tung oil. Though black remained the dominant color, the room exuded an air of classical elegance.
He hadn't expected Kreacher to transform the old house in just one night. House-elves truly were hardworking and loyal.
Shawn sat down at the dining table and looked at the steaming breakfast served in silver dishes. He couldn't help offering some praise.
"Kreacher, you did a great job."
At those simple words of praise, Kreacher burst into tears of joy.
"Boo-hoo, Kreacher has heard praise from a noble Black again. Kreacher hopes that when Kreacher dies, young master will cut off Kreacher's head and hang it on the wall."
Shawn had just taken a bite of sausage. Hearing the latter half of Kreacher's words almost made him gag, and he quickly snapped.
"Shut up!"
Then he reflected that he had been raised on civic virtues and proper conduct, not the condescending mindset of a true aristocrat. Besides, he might even earn some tier-three faith points from Kreacher, so he followed up with another order.
"Kreacher, sit down and eat too. Don't punish yourself, now or ever. That's an order!"
Kreacher froze in place. Only after a long pause under Shawn's stern gaze did he perch on the edge of a chair. With trembling hands, he took the toast Shawn pushed toward him, feeling an involuntary urge to hit himself with every bite.
Shawn gave him a hard look and went back to eating. The food wasn't particularly good, but it wasn't bad either.
After two years of eating British food, he knew what anyone familiar with it knew: this country wasn't fertile ground for fine cuisine.
Now that he had settled down, he needed to give his stomach some consideration.
After finishing a meal that could have been either breakfast or lunch, Shawn finally remembered the important matter at hand. Rather than rushing off to Gringotts, he questioned Kreacher.
"Before my father died, did he ask you to keep a locket safe?"
Kreacher's gaze shifted evasively, but after Shawn repeatedly questioned and ordered him, he finally fetched a locket engraved with the letter S.
"I see your desires. Open your mind, and I will teach you magic of unparalleled power."
"Power, status, wealth, beautiful women-whatever you desire, I can give you."
"Child, I see your heart and your desires. You are ambitious. You enjoy the adoration and support of the masses. Accept me, and all of it will be yours."
Holding the locket, Shawn's eyes grew vacant, and his expression slowly turned greedy and feverish.
Yet a moment later, clarity returned to his eyes. Shawn looked at the locket in his hand and murmured.
"Whew, Voldemort's Horcrux really is sinister. Once I lowered my Occlumency defenses, I actually felt tempted. So I'm just an ordinary man after all."
Standing anxiously beside him, Kreacher saw that his young master was unharmed and wanted to bash his head against the floor again. He had nearly brought harm to his young master.
As though he had anticipated this, Shawn immediately stopped him and reiterated that he was not to punish himself at will.
Ignoring Kreacher's muttered nonsense about how kind he was, Shawn considered how to deal with the Horcrux.
"Ding! An evil soul has been detected. Would you like to filter and absorb it?"
Shawn, who had been fretting over his lack of both the Fiendfyre spell and a Basilisk fang, froze. The system could do this too? Without hesitation, he chose to absorb it.
Things like Voldemort's Horcruxes were better off destroyed sooner rather than later.
"Ding! Absorption commencing."
A piercing roar suddenly rang out from the locket in his hand. Thick billows of black mist poured out, and Shawn felt a cold, evil sensation wash over him.
He thought he could even see a pale, noseless, snakelike face resembling a two-pronged plug emerging from the depths of the mist.
The next instant, the black mist rapidly vanished, clearly absorbed in its entirety by the system. The locket's incessant, beguiling whispers disappeared as well.
Shawn eagerly opened the system at once to see what had changed.
Compared with before, there were indeed a few additions.
His magic had increased by 10 units, bringing it to 40.
Water Element Affinity: Level 1. Avada Kedavra: Level 2. Parseltongue: Level 1.
Shawn wasn't surprised to have learned the Killing Curse and Parseltongue. He had expected that, but the additional water element affinity intrigued him.
His previous maxed-out lightning element affinity had come from the system's gift package, allowing him to imbue his spells with lightning. Yet now he had managed to get water element affinity from Voldemort.
His understanding of magic was virtually nonexistent, but even he could figure out that elemental affinities were valuable. They probably gave him a boost when learning corresponding spells.
If he specialized in lightning spells, their power would probably be tremendous.
Besides, the four Hogwarts houses weren't represented solely by four animals. Water, fire, wind, and earth also represented them, which was telling in itself.
"Heh, looks like collecting Horcruxes needs to go on the agenda too. Whatever it takes, I've got to raise my water element affinity."
Beside him, Kreacher asked hesitantly.
"Young master, are you unable to destroy this evil locket too? Boo-hoo, Kreacher is useless. Kreacher deserves to die for failing to fulfill Master Regulus's last wish."
Shawn waved a hand to silence Kreacher.
"All right, don't be upset. I've already destroyed the evil presence inside the locket. You've fulfilled my father's last wish."
His face covered in tears and snot, Kreacher lifted his ugly face in disbelief.
"Really? That's wonderful! Young master is every bit as noble and outstanding as Master Regulus."
Shawn let Kreacher celebrate for a while before instructing him that, no matter who asked about this in the future, he must say that Regulus had destroyed the locket. That would give the father he had inherited a more heroic reputation.
Afterward, Shawn casually explored the old house. It really was quite large, and many areas had yet to be cleaned, prompting another bout of self-reproach from Kreacher.
Shawn was used to it by now. He told Kreacher to prioritize a few areas, such as his father's room, the study, the basement library, and the spell practice room.
The rest could be cleaned up gradually.
That afternoon.
Kreacher brought Shawn to the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron by Apparition. With a Muggle-Repelling Charm cast over the place, ordinary passersby paid no attention to the shabby, narrow wooden door.
Shawn needed to buy quite a few things that day. Though the furnishings at home were antiques and Kreacher had cleaned them thoroughly, Shawn disliked the Blacks' dark decorating style and intended to give the place a complete makeover.
So he needed to withdraw money from Gringotts first.
When he pushed open the Leaky Cauldron's door, a strange mixture of odors assaulted his senses, accompanied by a noisy din.
The cramped, crowded pub was dimly lit, its walls mottled with age. Wizards of all sorts sat around a few battered wooden tables, drinking Butterbeer and chatting casually.
A bald, hunchbacked old man was clearly the landlord, chuckling at everyone.
As Shawn entered, some of those who noticed him paused, wondering why they had never seen this fine-featured boy before.
Still, no one said anything. After all, those who traveled with House-elves belonged to pure-blood families.
The landlord, Tom, did know Kreacher. Kreacher had to eat, after all, and would pass through the Leaky Cauldron once every six months or a year.
Seeing Kreacher respectfully following someone now, Tom seemed to guess the dark-haired boy's identity.
Unable to stand the strange smell, Shawn quickly made his way through the crowd toward the entrance to Diagon Alley. After he left, someone spoke to Tom.
"Old Tom, you looked like you knew that dark-haired boy. Which pure-blood family's young master is he? How come he dared to visit Diagon Alley alone?"
Old Tom chuckled.
"He certainly is a young master from a pure-blood family. He should be starting at Hogwarts this year, and his bloodline is particularly noble. Heh, some people who took advantage of his family in the past are in for trouble."
The others kept pressing him, but Old Tom refused to say any more, merely telling them that they would all find out soon enough.