If Harry Potter were to publicly announce Sirius Black's death, it would naturally expose the fact that the black dog was actually Sirius. This would inevitably disqualify Harry from the competition, and Sirius's death would become meaningless.
Therefore, Harry had no choice but to keep it a secret. He even had to force a smile and attend the celebration party held for the three champions of the day. These three were Viktor Krum of Durmstrang, the burly Stanislav Ivaneski, and Cedric Diggory of Hogwarts.
Originally, Harry was also among them. But the loss of his animal companion had dealt a devastating blow to his emotions. Whether he could participate in the second task remained uncertain. He would have to recover on his own.
As a result, the entire celebration featured German cuisine—sausages, cheeses, dark rye bread, and unlimited German beer.
Yesterday had been French cuisine; today was German. Hogwarts students were already hoping there could be such tournaments every year.
"Regulus! Is that black dog really dead?"
Professor McGonagall approached Regulus with a small plate in hand, her tone as covert as a spy exchanging secrets.
"Of course. Nothing was left. After all, it was dragonfire, and the black dog didn't stand a chance."
Regulus Black's plate was piled with sausages of every variety available and small pieces of all kinds of cheeses. It was quite a heap, but Regulus had a knack for arranging things neatly.
"How's your brother, Sirius Black?"
As the head of Gryffindor House, Professor McGonagall felt she could never quite think like someone from Slytherin, but changing her approach seemed to work.
"Oh! You mean my foolish brother? He's alright for now. Currently lying in the Hogwarts infirmary. This sausage and cheese platter is his dinner."
Regulus gestured toward the plate in his hand. It held at least three kilograms of meat.
It was clearly the way she had phrased her question. Slytherins never gave straight answers. McGonagall glared at Regulus, who only responded with an innocent expression.
At the Hogwarts infirmary, a black-clad figure was cheerfully admiring the pitiful state of the man in front of him.
"Should I say you're unlucky? Or maybe lucky? To be this badly injured and still survive… I suppose you're more lucky than not."
Snape hadn't felt this good in a long time. Seeing one of his childhood enemies—one of the infamous Marauders—reduced to such a miserable state, even though he hadn't been the one to do it, was immensely satisfying.
"I have to admit, the Black family really does produce geniuses. Without him, you'd still be rotting in Azkaban. Without the collar he made, you'd have been reduced to ashes by now."
Snape genuinely admired Regulus's methods. That was his own older brother, and he hadn't hesitated at all.
"Professor McGonagall! Sirius is seriously injured. You know he's broke and has no money, so I had no choice but to let him be treated here at Hogwarts."
Regulus's words were as fake as could be, but it was still a perfectly reasonable excuse. Yes, just saving on medical costs.
"Snape! You're here too. How is Sirius doing?"
Professor McGonagall looked at the mummy-like figure wrapped entirely in bandages. If no one told her who it was, she would never have recognized him as Sirius.
"Oh, him? Ninety percent of his skin is burned, but luckily it's only superficial. His muscles and internal organs weren't affected. However, over sixty percent of his bones are fractured—including both arms, both legs, all his ribs, and his pelvis."
Snape read from the report, growing more gleeful the more he spoke. He was nearly laughing aloud.
"Wait a minute! I understand the burns, but how did his bones end up like this?"
Professor McGonagall was puzzled. How could his skeleton be so damaged? He had only been burned by dragonfire, hadn't he? Still, surviving even that was a stroke of luck.
"The injuries to his bones were caused by me! He snuck into Hogwarts without permission and interfered in the tournament without authorization. That stupid dog never cared about Hogwarts' honor or reputation. He even intended to appear in public with his burn wounds to celebrate his godson's victory right after being rescued."
Regulus Black rattled off all the reasons in one breath, which even made Professor McGonagall think Sirius deserved a beating.
"I've brought you tonight's meal. You can either choke on it or make an effort to swallow it. As a matter of fact, I usually avoid hitting people in the face, so your facial bones are intact. I trust eating won't be a problem—don't starve like some stray dog."
Regulus Black placed the tray on the cabinet beside the hospital bed. With a flick of his wand, it was as though an invisible person began preparing the food: the sausages and cheese were cut into small pieces and gently fed one by one into Sirius's mouth.
"I want... to see... Harry... Potter."
Sirius Black struggled to make his request known in the gaps between bites.
"Impossible! Let him think you're dead. It'll help him mature faster. And besides, wouldn't that make for a nice surprise later?"
Regulus Black refused flatly. A soldier in mourning always triumphs—without Sirius's supposed death as a backdrop, who knows when Harry Potter would start showing real decisiveness?
And with this melodramatic godfather around, who knows what might happen? In the original story, he was a wanted man. If he showed up at Hogwarts, the first person to try arresting him would probably be Dumbledore himself. But now, he could sneak in and out as he pleased. Even if caught, the worst he'd face was a beating—not exactly comparable treatment.
That's why Regulus Black didn't hold back. He broke every bone he could—pelvis, feet, toes—nothing was spared.
It was only thanks to the help of a house-elf that this dumb mutt was rescued from dragon fire. The newly added elf, named Flash, earned her name because of her gift for "flash jumping"—a short-range teleportation similar to Apparition, but not quite the same.
To Flash, who had always wanted to prove herself, even dragon fire wasn't a deterrent. Even if that stupid dog had been swallowed whole by the fire dragon, Flash would've dived into its belly to drag him out.
The above was part of Flash's own account. She served Regulus Black and, as a house-elf loyal to tradition, if her master said his brother was a dumb dog, then his brother was, without question, a dumb dog.
Flash wasn't familiar with Hogwarts, but she managed to carry the burned black dog straight into Snape's classroom. There were no students around at that hour, so no one noticed when she left him there.
Before Regulus Black went on to torment Harry Potter mentally, he had already informed Snape to go stabilize Sirius's condition.
What he hadn't expected was that, right after Snape miraculously stabilized Sirius's burns, Sirius became desperate to go find Harry Potter. Regulus overheard him and promptly cornered him in the classroom.
So, for such a clueless, reckless older brother, a real-life version of Mortal Kombat unfolded right in front of Snape.
During all this, Snape even had the presence of mind to make his own tea, and once Regulus was done beating Sirius, he poured him a cup.
After confirming that no students would discover anything, the two of them transferred Sirius to the hospital wing.
"I was so focused on bringing you food, we haven't even eaten yet!"
Regulus Black said as he waved his wand, moving a few screens over to block Sirius from view. Then he, Snape, and Professor McGonagall returned to the Great Hall.
Meanwhile, Rita Skeeter was wandering around the celebration, occasionally grabbing a student to interview. Whether it was genuine news or a student's wild imagination, she recorded everything in her quick-quotes quill. As long as she could identify who said what, Rita Skeeter could publish it all with a clear conscience—and without taking responsibility.
This had all been agreed upon with Regulus Black. At first, she thought these rules were meant to restrict her. But after a few times, she realized they were actually protecting her. Complaints against her had dropped significantly in recent days.
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