193: Chapter 193 The Old House Reopens

"Don't tell me the first thing you do when you get home is flip through a list of dead people." The door knocker on the iron gate complained in a low, raspy voice. "A normal child would drink some water, wash their face, or at least put down their trunk."

Allen Potter stood before the gate of Potter Manor, his empty trunk lightly bumping against the steps. "The trunk is empty."

"That's even worse." The door knocker clicked open. "Coming home with an empty trunk, covered in surveillance. You've certainly brought trouble back in an orderly fashion."

The iron gate swung inward. The weeds in the yard were pressed low by household magic; the windows of the manor were dark, with only a faint grey light filtering from the direction of the study. The two observers at the end of the outer street did not approach within three steps of the iron gate, as if they had learned the temper of the manor's contract.

The family crest lit up on the wall of the foyer. "Welcome back, Young Master Allen. The perimeter observers are rotating in two shifts, two during the day and three at night. The new individuals do not enter the range of the iron gate, only recording the movement of lights and owls."

Allen put the empty trunk by the door. "Routes."

Fine lines emerged on the wall. The Muggle street corner, the newsstand, the second floor of the empty house opposite, and the brief stopping points under the streetlights were all marked. Next to each line was a time, precise to the minute.

The door knocker hummed. "They even tried to cast a spell on the door plate last night, but I bit them back."

"Did you bite them lightly?"

"Depends on my mood."

Allen took off his outer robe and walked into the study. The curtains were half-drawn; the old ink bottle on the desk was already set out, with three knuts waiting to be used beside it. The Potter Family tapestry on the wall hadn't moved, several blank names still looking as if they had been gouged out of the fabric.

He raised his hand and opened his Portable Space.

A thin silvery-grey layer unfurled, and the Black snake, Void, poked its head out first. After its silver eyes confirmed the study was safe, it slithered to the edge of the desk. The ebony box landed in the center of the table, the cracked pocket watch sealed inside, with gold threads covering most of its surface. Peter's cage was moved to the edge of the space, and four layers of thin walls lit up in sequence.

Peter clutched the old list, his throat sealed, able only to beg with his eyes.

Allen didn't look at him, first separating the second-year and third-year files.

The Chamber of Secrets coordinate map, the Basilisk fang stone tube, scales, diary scraps, the Unicorn silver blood sealed bottle, and grey-Black residue were all filed into the old records. The third-year files were spread out separately; the first sheet was marked with Azkaban anomalies, the second with the Black jailbreak timeline, and the third with Peter's utility.

He took out the cracked pocket watch record paper from the depths of the space.

The proportion covered by gold threads: more than half. Black Lake time crease: triggered. Three-second double shadow: recorded. Old restricted area blue light door: awaiting confirmation. Dumbledore's warning: if the cracked pocket watch rings during the summer vacation, sleep first.

Allen looked at the last line, his fingers pausing on the paper for half a breath.

The door knocker shouted from outside, "Don't listen to the old bumblebee. He told you to sleep, maybe he wants you to open the door in your dreams."

The family crest corrected, "The Principal's original words might not contain malice."

"Are you taking his side?"

"I am on the side of the records."

Allen dipped his quill in ink. "Records are more useful than guesses."

He began to inventory the third-year files.

First, the cracked pocket watch. Gold threads cover more than half the surface; the blue light responds to the time-turner, divination, and the Black Lake return. Danger level raised; conscious contact prohibited, sleep infiltration requires Void suppression.

Second, Peter's confession list. Involves the change of Secret-Keeper, old Death Eater contacts, Crouch's former subordinates, and the safekeeping of Malfoy Family heirlooms. Credibility layered; requires verification with external evidence.

Third, time double shadow record. A double of himself appeared in the Third Floor old restricted corridor; one wearing robes covered in mud and water, one holding a blackthorn wand, with blue light in the door crack. Location requires verification after returning to school following the summer vacation.

Fourth, rubbing of the crystal ball vision. Trelawney's prophecy has been recorded by Hermione, possibly entering Dumbledore's field of vision.

Fifth, Lupin's chocolate sealed sample. No curses, no poison, contains residual scent of wolfsbane potion. A favor line, low risk, do not reveal the bottom line.

Every time he finished writing an item, the tip of Void's tail would press against the corresponding stone tube or paper roll. The silver threads tightened, and the files returned to their places.

Allen looked at Peter. "Ten seconds."

The silence spell was released.

Peter almost lunged at the bars. "The old furniture shop is called 'Borgin and Burkes Old Goods Repair Shop'. It's not on the main street, it's at the third fork into Knockturn Alley, with two broken chairs hanging at the door. The owner might have changed now. I hid it behind the second loose brick on the back wall, four bricks up from the ground. The cloth bag is waterproofed with fish skin, with a layer of Black wax on the outside; don't use fire."

Allen wrote down, "Protection inside the shop?"

"Old anti-theft spells, very poor, but there might be corrosive powder behind the wall. Wear gloves, don't touch the back of the seal. There is old blood pact powder on the back of the seal; it has long since expired, but it will leave a scent." Peter spoke very quickly. "Don't open the letter in the shop, the remaining pages will absorb moisture. Don't try to fix the code page even if you can't see it clearly; it can match the old contact seal."

"Who knows about the hiding spot?"

Peter's face twitched. "Me, and maybe one other person."

Void's tail tip lifted.

Peter immediately added in a shrill voice, "Not necessarily alive! The errand runner in Knockturn Alley who made the fish-skin bag for me, called Mundungus Fletcher, might know. He sells everything, and forgets everything. He might have forgotten me too."

Allen stopped writing. "Mundungus Fletcher?"

Peter shut his mouth too quickly, and the edge of the cage immediately contracted.

"Yes! It's him!" Peter lay on the bars. "He doesn't know what's inside, only that I hid something. He might be hanging out with the Order of the Phoenix now, or maybe with the Black market; he goes with whoever pays."

The door knocker cursed outside, "I knew there were dirty hands in the Order of the Phoenix."

The family crest added, "Mundungus Fletcher, no record in the manor's old visitor list. Appeared twice in the periphery records of Potter Family commerce, low credit rating."

Allen wrote the name into the risk column. "Night operation in three days; the goal is only to retrieve the object, do not make contact with anyone. If the hiding spot is disturbed, retreat."

Peter was so anxious he slapped the bars. "You have to take it! Without those letters, Sirius Black will tear me apart, Remus will question me until I have nothing to say, and Dumbledore will hand me over to the Ministry of Magic for the sake of decency!"

"Shut up."

The silence spell closed. Peter's mouth was still open, but he couldn't make a sound, only able to press his forehead against the bars and shiver.

Allen wrote the old furniture shop on the edge of the map and held down the corner with three knuts. Knockturn Alley, Potter Manor, and King's Cross Station formed a rough triangle. Next to each line were marked observers, retreat points, and sources of interference.

The family crest suddenly brightened. "There is resonance from the direction of the Dungeon."

Allen looked up. "The cracked pocket watch?"

"Not the cracked pocket watch. The core of the manor, the third level underground, the old sealed area. The resonance is very weak, as if grazed by external time ripples."

The ebony box did not light up. But Void turned its head, its silver eyes staring at the study floor.

The door knocker's voice came from the foyer, "Don't go down. You just got home; there are people outside, a watch inside, and a traitor in a cage. If you go down to the Dungeon again, I'm applying to switch masters."

"Application rejected," the family crest said.

"You shut up."

Allen put away some of the files, leaving only the old map of the Dungeon. The underground structure of Potter Manor was more complex than what he had seen last year; the first level was the wine cellar and old storage, the second level was the defensive array core, and the third level was called the old sealed area by the family crest. He hadn't fully opened it before because the manor suggested waiting until his space and time talents were stable before asking.

He looked at the blank space on the map. "Source of the resonance."

The family crest projected a fine line, pointing to the east side of the third level. There was no room name there, only a worn-away symbol, looking like a door, and also like a locked watch face.

Allen muttered to himself, "Old door returns proof, cracked watch hands move, Void swallows the Killing Curse."

The tip of Void's tail pressed down on the ebony box, increasing the force.

The door knocker cursed even louder, "You're still reciting it? Reciting prophecies costs you a night's sleep each time."

Allen rolled up the Dungeon map. "Not going down tonight."

The door knocker paused for half a beat. "Are you serious?"

"First, look at the surveillance rotation."

"That's more like a living person."

The family crest projected the scene outside the window. On the second floor of the empty house opposite, a Wizard in a grey cloak was sitting by the window, holding a Muggle newspaper. Under the streetlamp at the corner, a Witch pretended to wait for the bus, but her toes were always pointed toward the manor. The third person was hiding behind the chimney on the roof, revealing only a trace of magic concealment.

Allen noted, "Three people at night. Shift change time to be determined. Turn off the lights early on the day of the operation, leave a fake shadow in the study."

He took out the draft report for Snape again. Dementors, space loss of control, sleep disorder, time anomalies, divination explanations, several pieces of parchment pressed together. Pansy was right, the essay debt would drag him down. Snape perhaps wanted to use these papers to pin his summer vacation to the desk.

"But paper can also serve as smoke." Allen pulled one out. "Letting them see me doing homework is more reassuring than letting them see me sleeping."

The door knocker was quiet for a while. "You child are speaking more and more like the portraits in the manor."

"Portraits will tell secrets."

"The door knocker won't."

"The door knocker will curse people."

"Cursing people doesn't count as telling secrets."

There was finally a bit of life in the study. Allen spread out his homework, deliberately turned on the desk lamp, and had the family crest leave a gap in the curtains. The observers outside could see a young man sitting at the desk writing an essay, with books piled next to him, and no dangerous items on the table.

The truly dangerous items were all kept behind the thin walls of the Portable Space.

Peter continued to write the list. Void guarded the ebony box. The cracked pocket watch was excessively quiet, as if Dumbledore's words had suppressed it, and also as if it were waiting for a more suitable night.

The resonance from the direction of the Dungeon tapped lightly again.

The quill in Allen's hand stopped.

"I heard it." He said to the empty study, "But I won't answer tonight."

The family crest didn't urge him. The door knocker didn't curse again.

Outside the window, the Wizard in the grey cloak turned a page of the newspaper. Allen lowered his head and continued writing the Dementor report, his handwriting stabilizing. Knockturn Alley in three days; old letters, seals, and code pages. After that, the old sealed area of the Dungeon.

The summer vacation had only just begun, and the manor had already revealed a crack in the door to him.