"Sirius will soon be free from his unjust imprisonment," Bryan said with a radiant smile. "You've been staying in this house all day, so you probably don't know what's happening outside. The Ministry of Magic has announced the truth about what happened that year in the Daily Prophet. In a mere matter of days, the long-awaited trial of the genuine traitor responsible for the betrayal of the Potter family, Peter Pettigrew, will commence officially. I will also bear witness to these proceedings, and upon their conclusion, Sirius will, in all probability, be released and granted the freedom to return to this Manor."

Kreacher, the aged house-elf, his eyes swollen and bloodshot, responded to this news with a trembling voice, "Kreacher is happy for Master Sirius—"

Mustering his courage, he bravely raised his head and inquired, "When Master Sirius returns home… Master Regulus's funeral?"

Indeed, despite being born from the same mother and both being direct descendants of the Black family lineage, the stark contrast in the treatment they received was truly staggering and profoundly unjust.

Bryan pursed his lips, choosing to remain silent and refrain from answering Kreacher's emotional query. Instead, he reached into the depths of his pocket, fumbling momentarily before extracting the exquisite locket that once belonged to the legendary Salazar Slytherin himself, presenting it before Kreacher's astonished gaze.

This time, Kreacher's reaction was far more "normal," as one might expect.

Tears instantly welled up in his swollen, bulbous eyes, and his frail body trembled violently as he gazed upon the locket cradled in Bryan's hand with an expression of utter disbelief and awe. "You...you...oh, Kreacher can't believe this!"

Quivering uncontrollably, Kreacher extended his withered hand, yearning to caress the open locket, yet lacking the courage to do so. "Kreacher tried countless times, but the powerful dark magic enshrouding the Locket thwarted his efforts. But you did it, you have fulfilled Master Regulus's dying wish. You are the greatest wizard Kreacher has ever bore witness to in all his long years!"

Bryan's cheek twitched involuntarily a few times. This ancient and toothless house-elf was quite adept at flattering others. But then again, it seemed that he truly harbored profound respect and reverence for the late Regulus Black.

"Yes, the dark magic imbued within this locket has been obliterated," Bryan affirmed, while Kreacher, overwhelmed by a torrent of emotion, prostrated himself upon the ground, sobbing uncontrollably and muttering nonstop.

Regulus's final wish had been Kreacher's deepest obsession. For countless years, he had shouldered the burden of a task he could never complete, living in solitary agony and torment. Now, Bryan had liberated him from this anguish, and one could only imagine the depths of gratitude and relief that flooded Kreacher's soul.

"Very well, Kreacher," Bryan said in a gentle tone, halting Kreacher's rolling and thrashing upon the ground. "From now on, you can live a bit more comfortably too. If you don't mind, could you make me some lunch? I'm a bit hungry."

"No problem, Master Watson!" Kreacher sprang up with renewed vitality and energy. He wiped his nose unceremoniously with the back of his hand, eagerly preparing to descend the stairs and commence his culinary duties. Serving wizards was an instruction etched into the very soul of a house-elf, a task they undertook with immense pride and satisfaction.

"Since you have managed to restore order and cleanliness to this place, Kreacher," Bryan called out to Kreacher, who had already scurried toward the staircase, "Please tidy yourself up a bit too before cooking!"

After enjoying a carefully prepared delicious lunch, Bryan returned to his room to rest for a while, to alleviate the slight fatigue caused by forcibly controlling the skeleton of the Titan earlier in the morning. It wasn't until the sun dipped low, its golden rays turning crimson, that he finally opened his drowsy eyes and lazily rose from bed.

Casting a cursory glance at the wall clock to ascertain the time, Bryan pursed his lips in dissatisfaction. Perhaps it was the gradual adaptation to a life of increasing comfort, but lately, he felt a certain lethargy and laziness had crept into his being.

Regulus's body had been placed in the room he lived in when alive- the fifth floor, while Bryan's room was on the fourth. Out of respect for Regulus, Bryan went to a guest room on the third floor, taking some effort to relocate the furnishings elsewhere. After remodeling it, he ordered Kreacher not to enter the room again without being summoned.

The magical creatures they had captured possessed an intelligence far surpassing that of ordinary beasts. The mournful cries of the Fwooper bird, as it lay helpless upon the ground, were so piercing and shrill that they inflicted upon Bryan a throbbing headache, akin to nails being dragged across a blackboard.

Meanwhile, the Irish Leprechaun, adorned with two comical chestnut-colored whiskers, hurled a relentless torrent of the foulest curses known to its kind. Had its tiny form not been bound and restrained by a snake as thick as a man's thumb, it would undoubtedly have leapt forth and pounded Bryan's knees with its stubby fists in a furious rage. Even in its current state of captivity, it did not neglect to direct a series of vulgar hand gestures toward Bryan with its small stubby fingers.

Bryan, maintaining an aura of calm composure, waved his wand, and the two wild creatures simultaneously succumbed to a deep slumber, their cries and curses abruptly silenced.

The next magical experiment required the preservation of their souls in a stable, tranquil state, and intense emotions would only serve to undermine and hamper the process.

Bryan was already well-versed in this particular curse experiment, having conducted it on numerous previous occasions. After exerting his will to levitate the two creatures onto the experimental platform, he closed his eyes, seeking to steady his mind and attain a state of profound focus. Mere moments later, when he opened them again, his purple eyes held only the cold logic and a thirst for magical advancement.

Beyond the confines of the Black family's ancient manor, the world was overflowing with the vibrant spirit of spring, the intoxicating warmth of the gentle breeze casting an enchanting spell upon all it caressed. But within the musty halls of this venerable Manor, it was as if the harsh, bitter chill of winter had taken up permanent residence.

A wisp of pure white frost crept forth from beneath the sealed door of the laboratory, spreading rapidly along the third-floor corridor like a toxic ivy nourished by abundant rain, enveloping the walls in an icy embrace within the blink of an eye.

In the realm of the invisible, an inky black, evil magic roared to life, and Kreacher, who had been lurking outside the door, trembled uncontrollably, overcome by an overwhelming desire to flee from this accursed house immediately. However, the nature of a house-elf compelled him to remain, bound to this place and unable to abandon his post.

The laboratory seemed to be enveloped in a thick, impenetrable fog of otherworldly origin.

The black mist, full with innumerable particles, rolled and swirled as if governed by the unavoidable pull of the moon's gravity upon the tides, experiencing a perpetual ebb and flow. Within this surging, roiling black tide, the only object emitting a pure white halo was the soul Bryan had neatly extracted from the Fwooper bird's corporeal form.

The soul, radiant as the luminous glow of the moon itself, emanated a flimsy glow with a gel-like, ethereal texture. Having only just been severed from its original bodily vessel, the intensity of the Fwooper bird's soul burned many times brighter than the pale, wispy ghosts that had haunted the halls of Hogwarts for hundreds, if not thousands, of years.

Fixing his unwavering gaze upon the glowing soul, an overwhelming sense of joy and elation, potent and uncontrollable, welled up within the depths of Bryan's heart. His experience from previous experiments whispered to him that success was close.

His wand traced an intricate, mysterious trajectory through the air, and under the guidance of an inscrutable aura, the floating black "grains" that permeated the chamber merged and gathered together, forming an intricate pattern akin to a symbol, a diagram, or an ancient rune. The moment this pattern manifested, the immense and evil magical power it exuded caused the very air to tremble violently, and the nearby Fwooper bird's soul rippled like the surface of a lake disturbed by a gentle breeze.

Bryan narrowed his eyes, his expression one of intense focus, as he pressed the tip of his wand against the pattern that had gathered this evil will and immense magical power. Slowly, with palpable difficulty, as if pushing against the weight of a great burden, he guided it ever closer to the Fwooper bird's soul.

At the moment of contact, a piercing cry echoed through the void, a sound so disturbing and agonizing that it seemed to reverberate within the very depths of one's soul. The outline of the Fwooper bird's soul trembled violently before Bryan's eyes, the emanating waves of fear and despair so potent that they even managed to penetrate the barrier and assault Kreacher, who remained vigilant outside the door.

The black pattern spread out dozens of thin tendrils, akin to the grasping roots of a sinister plant, fiercely piercing and invading the soul's ethereal body. After being thus violated, the originally sacred soul gradually darkened in hue, and the dim light it emitted took on a discernible tinge of malice and corruption!

The mysteries of the soul were rarely glimpsed, let alone fully comprehended. Bryan cast aside all unimportant distractions and focused the entirety of his considerable intellect on analyzing the various mysteries and arcane secrets contained within the suspended soul. Combining his existing wealth of knowledge, he swiftly constructed a comprehensive framework to systematize the understanding of the soul's intrinsic systems.

The forced mutation of the Fwooper bird's soul persisted for a full ten agonizing minutes. When, at last, the dark pattern had fully integrated and melded with its unwilling host, a wave of invisible force surged forth, an unseen shockwave that burst outwards with such potency that it actually forced Bryan back a step, momentarily disrupting his footing.

And as all anomalies subsided and the invisible turbulence dissipated, a flame-like black curse seed appeared before Bryan's eyes, hovering in the air like a malicious will-o'-wisp, the culmination of his efforts!

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