Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 442: Treasure Hunt

Many ancient wizards were drawn to the countryside of Wiltshire. Once, it was a bustling place, where grand mansions hosted lavish gatherings nearly every night.

Wiltshire was also the area with the highest concentration of wizards. But twelve years ago, everything changed almost overnight. Nearly half of the wizards were forced to relocate, some even becoming neighbors with Dementors, leaving behind vast, vacant estates. Silence replaced the liveliness.

Still, the witches and wizards who remained didn’t mind. If anything, it allowed them to expand their own homes without restrictions.

The Lestrange mansion stands on a hillside to the north. Several windows are shattered, roof tiles are missing, and the grand front door and walls are entangled in mysterious vines. From the outside, it looks almost as eerie as Hogsmeadeʼs Shrieking Shack.

More than a decade ago, however, this was the grandest structure for miles, and the Lestrange family had been one of the most influential in the wizarding world. But since its owners were sent to Azkaban, the mansion has fallen into ruin, leaving it in its current state.

No wizard in the area wants to come near, much less lend a hand to maintain it.

At night, the hillside falls into an eerie silence, disturbed only by the occasional sound of insects. Under the moonlight, two figures—one large, one small—step out from the shadows and pause before the house.

“Sirius, are you sure this is the Lestrange ancestral home?” Kyle surveyed the decaying building in front of him, which was barely in better shape than the Shrieking Shack.

“If we’re talking about the same Lestrange family, then yes,” Sirius replied.

“This place is in shambles,” Kyle muttered, frowning. “Did they ever think of protecting it with a Fidelius Charm?”

“No, they didn’t need to,” said Sirius. “Twelve years ago, who would have dared touch it? That woman… Bella. She was You-Know-Who’s favorite. Plenty of wizards were eager to curry favor with her, and since You-Know-Who trusted her, the Death Eaters nearly treated this place as their headquarters. A Fidelius Charm would’ve been too much of an inconvenience.”

Sirius glanced at Kyle. “The irony is, it was those same people who left it in this state after she was locked up in Azkaban.”

He sighed, casting a sidelong look at Kyle. “Although I don’t know why you suddenly wanted to come here, I’m certain that anything of value was looted long ago. You’re likely on a wasted trip today…”

“We’ll see about that,” Kyle said, pressing on.

Sirius gave a resigned shrug and followed.

The front door’s lock had long been useless, and Kyle easily entered after pulling aside some of the tangled vines.

The interior was in even worse condition. Nearly every piece of furniture was broken, the largest object being a table with one missing leg. As Sirius had warned, there was little of value left to be found, even the decorative carvings from the walls and pillars had been stripped away.

“I’d rather not set foot in here at all if I can avoid it,” Sirius muttered, frowning.

“What exactly are you looking for? If it’s Galleons you want, just say the word. I’ve got plenty of those.”

“That’s yours, I don’t want any.” Kyle reached into his pocket and pulled out a Niffler. “Find it, then. Where’s the underground storeroom here?”

The Niffler scanned the area, then began waddling purposefully in one direction, scooping up shards of glass, rusty nails, bits of porcelain, and other debris into its belly pouch along the way like a furry vacuum.

It finally stopped at a corner of the room where a statue once stood, now reduced to just a base with an open hole beneath it, suggesting someone had been here before. Kyle picked up the Niffler, scratched its belly, and tossed out the collected junk with a look of mild disgust. The little creature let out an indignant squeak, but Kyle ignored it, held up an oil lamp, and ventured into the underground storeroom alone.

As expected, the place had been looted thoroughly, but fortunately, what Kyle needed was still there. On the wall of the small storeroom hung a faded painting, frame missing, with only the faint outline of the Lestrange mansion in the background. The figures once in the painting had vanished.

“Must’ve been one of the old Lestranges, though I can’t recall his name,” Sirius said, having followed Kyle in. “But Kyle, don’t tell me you came here for this… These kinds of magical portraits are only worth anything to the Lestrange family. It’s just rubbish to everyone else.”

“Yes, but it’s not…” Kyle trailed off.

Sirius looked at him, confused, until he saw Kyle toss the painting aside and produce a hammer from somewhere, then start striking the wall behind it.

Dong… dong… dong…

The wall, surprisingly fragile, crumbled quickly to reveal dark grey stone beneath, but Kyle kept hammering away.

The dull thuds of each strike made Sirius even more bewildered, wondering if Kyle intended to demolish the place entirely. But just as he was about to speak, the wall gave way further. To Sirius’s amazement, as Kyle broke down more of the wall, the grey stone began to warp, shrinking and compressing until it transformed into a fist-sized, dark gold box.

“Transfiguration… I thought there might be a hidden compartment,” Kyle said.

He put on his dragon-hide gloves and gave the box a gentle shake, hearing a distinct clinking sound from within.

The key he was after was apparently hidden inside. But the box itself posed a problem—there were no seams, no visible hinges or locks, no keyhole to be found.

Watching, Sirius blinked, stammering in shock, “Th-this is…”

“It’s some sort of magical container, used to store valuable items,” Kyle explained. “But it’s no simple task to open it.”

“I know that!” Sirius replied, scratching his head. “But how did you even know this was hidden behind the wall? I mean, this is the Lestrange ancestral home! Have you been here before? But that doesn’t make any sense—you were barely a year old when that woman, Bellatrix, was captured by the Aurors.”

“No, I was a little over two,” Kyle corrected.

“That’s not the point!” Sirius groaned, his head spinning. “How in Merlin’s name did you know where this thing was?”

“Someone told me, of course,” Kyle laughed. “I paid a little to get the information from a very reliable source.”

“An insider? Who could it be?”

“Trust me,” Kyle said with a smirk, “you don’t want to know their name.”

With that, Kyle stowed the box in his bag and took one last look around, ensuring he hadn’t overlooked anything else before heading out of the storeroom with the oil lamp. It was frustrating not being able to freely use magic here.