Good or bad, does it matter?{HP}

After returning to Britain, Severus first reviewed the week's news. Strangely, everything seemed quiet and calm. No skirmishes or incidents; life went on as usual, though the somber atmosphere following the recent funeral lingered.

This melancholy was still reflected in black attire worn by some wizards, newspaper photos in Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley, and the whispered conversations and rumors in bars, restaurants, and streets. Although the wizarding world of England was slowly recovering, the process was gradual.

Severus hadn't seen Bella since his return, though they often communicated in the evenings through the mirror. Over time, she had even grown accustomed to Nagini, despite the snake's persistent gaze that seemed tinged with jealousy—a notion that struck Bella as both strange and unsettling.

Since the day in Yorkshire Dales National Park, when the Prince revealed his "secret," Bella had begun to trust him more, showing a degree of sincerity that was previously hidden behind her usual brusqueness and indifference.

The change was gradual but notable. She even started to take the initiative—openly asking his opinion, sharing her thoughts, and requesting advice, especially in training matters. This shift was a significant step, given her naturally proud and confident disposition.

The gradual progress of their relationship, especially considering his constant busyness, was more than satisfactory to Severus. After all, to earn the respect of such a pure-blooded aristocrat as Bellatrix, raised in the proud traditions of blood purity by Walburga herself, was no small feat for a half-blood like him.

What he enjoyed most was making her blush. Each time he managed to embarrass her just enough to break through her pretense, her displeased expression became, in his eyes, even more attractive—something he wasn't shy about mentioning, causing her to blush all the more.

Each meeting became an opportunity for Severus to push Bellatrix beyond her stoic front. He found pleasure in embarrassing her to the point where she could no longer hide her real emotions, and she—paradoxically—seemed to enjoy this attention, appreciating that it was directed at Bellatrix, the person, rather than the prestigious Black family witch.

Closer to ten o'clock in the evening, the Prince finished studying the sword he had acquired, which had consumed nearly all his time since returning from China.

The results didn't disappoint him; he had anticipated the sword's limitations. To infuse the sword with magic and light up all eight symbols required at least a third of the "Archmage" reserve, taking five full seconds—a delay that could cost him his life in battle, given that even a lower Devil would strike multiple times in that span. This made it less effective in combat unless pre-charged with magic.

The sword had other drawbacks: after the first strike, half of the energy dissipated, requiring a recharge that took an additional two and a half seconds.

Also, the sword lacked an elemental component, serving only to strengthen and sharpen itself—an area where it fell short compared to Gryffindor's sword, which could absorb the properties of various substances it came into contact with, such as poison, acid, fire, or other elements, up to three at once. Gryffindor's sword, for instance, currently held Nagini's poison, fire to enhance the Prince's flame, and wind to augment it further. The artifact did have one advantage, though: unparalleled sharpness.

The sword cut through barriers as effortlessly as if they weren't there. Even a high-level Archmage's barrier didn't trouble it, and Severus spent twenty kilograms of crystals to test this hypothesis.

He calculated that it might even breach the barrier of a top-ranking Archmage, though he was unsure about the peak rank. Reflecting on his past duels against Great Archmage–rank wizards, he suspected it might work with constant magical reinforcement, though he wasn't keen on burning through hundreds of kilograms of crystals to find out.

The sword still intrigued him, despite its flaws. Twelve hours of meticulous study with advanced analytical charms and rituals revealed little.

The artifact was a mystery, a rare defeat for the Prince and a slight blow to his pride. In nearly eighteen months, it was the first magical object he couldn't decipher. Yet this challenge didn't frustrate him—it excited him, reigniting a spark of wonder at the complexity of this world and the joy of encountering an artifact whose secrets remained hidden. He felt like a child again, holding an enigma he couldn't solve.

Sitting at the table, head resting on one hand, Severus stared thoughtfully at the sword, which floated within a magic circle. Tapping his fingers on the table, he mused aloud, "What is your secret…?"

Li Er (the spirit) had helped translate the sword's inscription, which read, "Ruler Yue Goujian, the sword is made for his personal use." But neither he nor the spirit could determine its creator.

Even Li Er, who knew most of the legendary wizards and artifact-makers of that era, couldn't identify the sword's maker. Both British and Chinese magical histories had been rewritten countless times, and the spirit couldn't know everything. Severus had found nothing in Chinese libraries either, but he hadn't expected this to be an easy task.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door, followed by Nagini, who slithered in with a disapproving look.

"You promised not to stay up late, and you returned from the library only at six this morning," she hissed reproachfully.

"Already?" He raised an eyebrow, pulling out his pocket watch, which read "10:12" in the evening. "It's still early—not even midnight!"

"No arguments. You're done for the night," she insisted. "And Tobbi has finished preparing the dragon meat. We're all just waiting on you."

"Alright, alright," he sighed, standing and stretching. With a slight smile, he sent the sword to a nearby shelf and followed her downstairs.

As he stepped outside, Severus was greeted by an unexpected sight. The front of the house was illuminated, and he was surrounded by a crowd of wolves, the three Kings of the "Magic Jungle," and even the Chimera King. Near the entrance, a Phoenix perched on a branch, eyeing the wolves and boars disdainfully while stealing glances at a particular spot, torn about where to focus. In a gazebo under an oak tree, Eileen sat with a Qilin's head resting in her lap, two more Qilins nearby, along with a tiger cub and chimera cub, all of them close to the house elf, who was busy cooking meat over a spit, clearly uncomfortable under so many eager eyes.

Severus didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the scene. "I should've bought more."

"Definitely," Nagini replied.

At that moment, Lucky appeared in front of Severus, wearing an innocent expression as he pawed toward the meat and then back at himself, which made the wizard's smile twitch.

"Won't you burst?" Severus asked.

Lucky meowed in a way that seemed to say, "It'll all fit!" The other animals growled in protest, but Lucky silenced them with a single glance, causing even the Kings of the Jungle—the Black Hound, Thunder Tiger, and Bear—to lower their heads, though the Chimera King held his gaze defiantly.

"Alright, alright," Severus sighed, exhausted. The meat floated off the spit, magically divided in mid-air, and landed before the twelve cubs, including one cheeky kitten.

"Tobbi," he called.

"Yes, sir," Tobbi appeared with a respectful bow.

"Do we have any golden antelope meat left?"

"Yes, you brought plenty from your last trip."

"Prepare it for everyone within two hours, if Gorby helps you," he instructed. Another house elf appeared, bowing.

"Yes, sir!" they chorused before vanishing, and Severus looked at Nagini.

"We'll save some for later," she said, understanding his meaning. She nodded, sending him an image of a smiling girl. "And…?" he looked at Eileen.

"I don't mind," she replied, stroking the Qilin's head. The other animals reluctantly nodded as well, their gazes lingering enviously on the cubs who were finishing the dragon meat. Just then, the elves returned, carrying ten skinned carcasses—golden antelopes, twice the size of regular ones with three horns—which instantly captured the attention of all the creatures gathered.

Sitting on the front step, Severus regarded the strange assembly of magical beings with a wry smile. "I never thought I'd spend my evening with such a large and…unique group."

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