Harry Potter: The Golden Viper

The cold winter wind howled through the deserted street, carrying bouts of snowflakes that danced in the dim yellow glow cast by the old-fashioned lampposts lining the cracked sidewalks. Sirius stood there surveying the unremarkable Muggle buildings before him.

"Sirius, are you sure you remembered the right place?" Remus asked, doubt creeping into his typically calm voice as he pulled his coat tighter around himself to ward off the freezing chill.

"I won't get the place wrong, Moony--" Sirius replied, injecting his words with unwavering certainty. "Two months ago, we caught a criminal selling Class B prohibited items in Birmingham. But this guy was smart and destroyed all the evidence on him before we got our hands on him. So, we thought about searching his house, hoping to find something."

He turned to face the others, snowflakes clinging to his long dark hair. "At that time, I went to the Wizard Residence Registration Office in the Muggle World to check for his information. And while I was there, out of curiosity, I also checked Bryan's residence in the Muggle world."

Sirius pointed a gloved finger towards a faded street sign barely visible through the swirling snow. "One seventy-eight Frank Street, I swear I won't remember it wrong."

Harry stepped up onto an abandoned rail track while the rusted metal creaked softly under his jockers. Squinting through his glasses, now spotted with melting snowflakes, he peered at the buildings lining the opposite side of the empty street.

A rusted plaque said that the dreary grey building on the left was number 177 Frank Street, which seemed to be some sort of department store, its display windows also looked dark and lifeless. Directly beside it stood number 179, a shabby little bakery with faded red canopies drooping dejectedly over its dirty glass storefront.

The two structures were crammed together with their brick walls pressing against each other with no spare inch wasted between them.

And nowhere could a number 178 be seen.

Just then, an icy gust tore down the street, showering them with chilly snow crystals. Harry quickly turned his head aside to shield his face from the frozen wind. As he did, something in the distance caught his eye - the dark silhouette of an old stone arch bridge rising up in the suburban gloom beyond the far end of Frank Street.

"What's wrong, Harry? Did you find something?" Hermione's voice tinged with concern came through the whistling wind. Her eyes observed Harry carefully, having immediately noticed the subtle shift in his expression.

"Oh, um--" Harry looked back at her and gave a quick smile. "It's nothing, just got some snow in my eyes--"

He tried to sound casual, but Hermione's slight frown made it clear she wasn't entirely convinced. However, her attention was quickly diverted as Remus spoke up, his eyebrows were knitted together as he stared hard at the uninterrupted area of brickwork between 177 and 179 Frank Street.

"If you haven't remembered wrong, Sirius, this also means--" Remus said in a low, serious tone staring at the partition wall between 177 and 179, "Bryan used magic to hide the orphanage... I think this is definitely not allowed, right, Sirius?"

The severely cold weather and poor business and sales had clearly taken their toll on Frank Street's commercial prospects. Most of the shops lining the gloomy lane had papered-over windows or had their rusted security grilles pulled down.

Sirius had been eyeing the few open shops and buildings, contemplating asking someone inside for information. But at Remus' thoughtful question, he chuckled sarcastically.

"Of course, it's not allowed, Remus," He said with a grin. "If it's a purely magical family, they have the right to magically hide their property from unwelcome visitors. But an orphanage housing Muggle children and staff?"

Sirius shook his head. "In this case, it's obviously against Ministry regulations and so, it's not allowed to cast magic on the residence. Of course, Bryan definitely won't care. And no one in the Ministry would be stupid enough to find trouble with the famous Bryan Watson for this matter--"

Hermione bit her lower lip, clearly uncomfortable with that last statement. Rules were rules - or should be - in her worldview.

What Remus really wanted to ask was, of course, not this, he was still intently examining the wall between the two buildings.

"The question is," Remus murmured, "has this orphanage always been hidden by Bryan's magic? Or is this concealment a recent development?"

Only Sirius and Hermione understood Remus' implication.

The difference was critical. If the building had been magically hidden for years, its current state was nothing. But if Bryan recently, or even yesterday, suddenly returned here and immediately used strict magic to protect the place where he grew up, the meaning and significance would be extraordinary.

The sky was getting dark, and a crackling sound came from the yellowed lampshades hanging on the street lamps on both sides. The electric lights emitted a dim yellow glow. Under the illumination of the light, the falling snowflakes seemed to be gradually increasing, and the reddish-brown bricks on the ground that had been cleared of snow were again covered with a thin layer of white.

"I can't see any traces--" Remus sighed in frustration, abandoning his search for any traces of Bryan's magic on the bricks or in the air. "If he's hidden it, I suspect he used a very powerful spell probably Fidelius Charm. That level of secrecy magic is undetectable, and exactly his style."

"The Fidelius Charm?" Harry repeated, his interest suddenly piqued. He and Ron had been drifting behind a nearby graffiti-scribbled lamppost, speculating about who would be the next Gryffindor Quidditch captain next year after Wood had graduated. But the mention of this interesting-sounding spell from Remus drew his attention. "What's that?"

"That's right," Sirius nodded grimly. "It's the same charm Dumbledore used to hide your parents, Harry. Ancient, powerful magic that conceals a secret inside a Secret Keeper's very soul. Even if Voldemort himself pressed his nose to their house's window, he would see nothing...unless the Keeper betrayed the trust."

Pain and old anger darkened Sirius' facial features as bitter memories of that Rat's betrayal twisted in his gut. He flexed his fingers, trying to work some feeling back into them. "And we all know how that turned out, thanks to that rat..."

"If that's the case--" Hermione closed the book she got from Sirius last night with a snap. It must be said, this was a very interesting book. It was not a boring record of a bunch of magic spells. It was actually a travelogue left by one of Sirius' ancestors after exploring the world. It records how that ancestor of the Black family, who was highly skilled in dueling, used his extensive spell knowledge to resolve crises when encountering various dangers on his journey.

"if the orphanage is undetectable, I think we should to be on our way. It doesn't seem right, poking around uninvited in Professor Watson's private affairs..." Hermione said urgently.

Despite her burning curiosity, Hermione always had a mental obstacle about visiting Professor Watson's residence in the Muggle world without his permission.

"It's not that there is no way nor its entirely impossible--" Sirius hesitated, "If someone from the house walks out of the magical protection range... Oh, it seems we're quite lucky!"

Harry and the other three were listening intently to Sirius, but they saw him suddenly become energized in confusion and walk across the street in a few long steps, leaping a twisted-iron fence to approach a middle-aged woman who had seemingly materialized out of nowhere on that opposite side of the street.

This was a middle-aged woman in her forties, with a slightly thin figure, wearing waterproof rubber shoes, loose brown trousers, and a dark green thick sweater. She didn't wear a coat outside the sweater, but tied an apron stained with grease. At this moment, she was dragging a large bag of garbage to the trash can not far away. But the weight of this garbage bag was obviously not light, making her weak body breathless.

"Need a hand, ma'am?" Sirius called out enthusiastically, flashing the woman his most charming smile as he approached.

Her head jerked up and she froze, clearly startled to be so abruptly addressed by the rather dashing gentleman who had appeared as if from thin air. She blinked at him for a long-confused moment before regaining her voice and understanding what he meant.

"Why, that would be lovely, if you're offering," She replied with a grateful but uncertain smile. "It's a bit heavy for me, I'm afraid."

Sirius turned and beckoned to Harry and Ron with a wave of his hand. Exchanging a sympathizing look, the two boys obediently walked over and lifted the foul-smelling sack weighing forty to fifty pounds between them, and ran rapidly towards the trash bin while trying not to breathe through their noses.

"Is there anything I can help you with, sir?" Mrs. Regan, who straightened her waist, wiped the grease on her hands on her apron, her tone was a little stiff. She looked at Sirius, Remus, and Hermione, as well as Harry and Ron who grabbed her garbage bag and quickly ran to the trash can. She obviously realized that this group of well-dressed people surrounding her was definitely not just here to help her carry the garbage.

"Oh, it's like this--" Sirius and Remus looked at each other. They had been freezing for a long time and didn't beat around the bush. Remus smiled gently, "Would you happen to know a Bryan Watson... Um, we heard that he... lives nearby--"

The woman seemed taken aback by Sirius's frankness but also intrigued. She looked at them over warily, taking in their well-cut clothes and manner of speech. They hardly seemed like the usual residents of this neighborhood.

"I might know of him," She said cautiously though her vigilant eyebrows had somewhat relaxed. "But who's asking?"

"Pardon my poor manners," Remus said succinctly to avoid revealing anything. "We are...colleagues of Mr. Watson's."

After hearing the intentionally vague statement, the woman continued to size them up while Harry and Ron panted their way back over, slightly out of breath and smelling strongly of rotting cabbage.

"Oh, you are Bryan's colleagues!" Mrs. Regan's tone became even more cheerful. However, when she saw the two boys who quickly ran over, she frowned again. She raised her chin at Hermione, Harry, and Ron, "And these three children--"

"School interns," Hermione said quickly, her cheeks pinkening. "I'm Hermione Granger and these two are Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. We're following Mr. Black and Mr. Lupin for a class project."

"So that's it!" Mrs. Regan said happily, "We've never seen Bryan's colleagues... Come in, everyone, it's really cold outside!"

And with that, before any of them could utter a word, the woman turned on her back and strode directly towards the solid brick wall...

...and passed right through it, vanishing instantly from view as if she'd been nothing more than an illusion.

The three children stood on the street, mouths open, snowflakes collecting on their hats and shoulders, as they tried to process the casual display of magic from the apparently ordinary Muggle woman. Even Sirius seemed momentarily at a loss for words.

After a few beats of stunned silence, Ron finally spoke, his voice coming as a squeak. "Uh...what the bloody hell just happened?"

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