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 Hogsmeade's 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.