Chapter 803 Kreacher and the Black Family

Cleaning out the curtain borers took almost an entire morning.

At noon, Mrs. Weasley finally took off her protective scarf, sank into an armchair, and jumped up again with a squeal of disgust, for she happened to be Sitting on the big bag full of dead rats.

The curtains no longer buzzed. They were soft and damp from the dense spray and hung down.

Under their feet, unconscious bugs were lying densely in a bucket. Next to the bucket was a large bowl filled with black bug eggs. Crookshanks was sniffing the bowl, and the Weasley brothers were also there. Stare greedily at this big bowl.

"I think we'll sort it out after lunch," Mrs. Weasley pointed to the dusty glass cabinets on either side of the mantelpiece.

The cupboard is filled with all kinds of mismatched things, a carefully selected rusty dagger, a few claws, a roll of snake skin, and numerous silver boxes with ancient English inscriptions on them. Most of them are recognized. After all, the magic pattern is not learned in vain.

The most disgusting object of all was an ornate crystal bottle with a huge opal stuck in it, filled with a liquid that was definitely blood.

A blood curse that only vampires can do.

Fan Lin thought helplessly that the old house of the Black family was really a surprise. Without Kreacher's help, it would have been a very difficult task to find Voldemort's Horcrux among so many dark magic items.

The doorbell jingled again. Everyone looked at Mrs. Weasley.

"Stay here."

When Mrs. Black's screams came from below again, Mrs. Weasley grabbed the big bag filled with dead mice and said calmly, "I'm going to get some sandwiches." She left the room and closed the door carefully. opened the door behind him.

Almost immediately, everyone else rushed to the windows and peered down through the steps of the stairs. They could see a head with shaggy hair and a set of cauldrons balancing precariously.

"Mundungus!" said Hermione. "What's he doing with those cauldrons?"

"Perhaps looking for a safe place to put them," Harry said. "Maybe that's what he was tasked with following me to do that night? Picking out stolen cauldrons?"

"Yes, you're right!" said Fred, as the front door opened, and Mundungus struggled to carry his cauldron through the front door and disappeared from view. "Gee, Mummy doesn't like it... …” He and George crossed the studio and stood by the door, listening carefully. Mrs. Black's screams had ceased.

"Mundungus is talking to Sisley and Kingsley," Fred whispered, his brows furrowing. "It's impossible to hear... Do you think it's worth the risk for us to use the Wind Ears?"

"It might be worth it," said George. "I could sneak upstairs and get a pair--"

But at this moment, there was a loud noise from downstairs, which made Shunfeng Er completely useless.

Everyone could clearly hear Mrs. Weasley roaring at the top of her voice.

"We don't have room to make a hiding place for the stolen stuff!"

"Sometimes I like to hear Mum growl at other people," Fred said with a satisfied smile on his face, and he opened the door an inch or so, allowing Mrs. Weasley's voice to enter the room more clearly. "It's such a beautiful change."

"——Totally irresponsible, it seems that without these stolen crucibles you dragged in, we would be miserable because of lack of funds——"

"These idiots are letting her get closer and closer," George shook his head and said, "You have to stop her talking as soon as possible, otherwise she will talk like boiling steam for hours. Since Mongolia Mum has been looking for an opportunity to fix Dungus since he went AWOL while being ordered to follow you. Harry - now Sirius's mum - is having a blast again."

Mrs. Weasley's bewilderment lost its initial sharpness, and screams came from the portrait in the hall.

George tried to close the door against the noise, but before he could do so, a house elf entered the side of the room. Except for a bunch of dirty rats tied into a belt around his waist, it was all over. It looks very old. The skin appears to be several times larger than its body, and although it is as hairless as the rest of the house elf, a mass of white eyebrows sprout above its huge, bat-like eyes. Its eyes are bloodshot and moist gray-white, and its flesh-colored snout is also huge, or more accurately, like a pig's snout.

The elf was absolutely oblivious to Harry and the others. It behaved as if it couldn't see them. It hunched its back and walked slowly, stubbornly and slowly, until it made its way to the innermost part of the room. Its muttering was hoarse in his breath. Deep, like a bullfrog.

"...smells like a drain or a convict's boots, but she's not much better, the dirty old blood traitor who has made a mess of my mistress's house with her stinking children, My poor mistress, what would she say to old Kreacher if she knew what rubbish these guys brought in, oh, what a shame, kids, werewolves, traitors, and thieves, poor old Kreacher Tsk, what can it do..."

"Hello, Kreacher," Fan Lin said loudly as he stepped forward and closed the door.

Mrs. Black's screams were so explosive that it was clearly more than they could bear.

The elf stopped, stopped mumbling, and began to be surprised with a very obvious look of uncertainty.

"Kreacher didn't see the little master," it turned its head and bowed to Fanlin. Still standing at the edge of the rug, it added in a voice just audible, "It's a half-breed, a dirty brat."

"Excuse me?" said Hermione, "but don't add that last bit."

"Kreacher didn't say anything," Kreacher replied quickly, saying it was an explanation, but it was more like...

? ?

"This is the half-blood kid's girlfriend, a dirty mudblood. If the old master is here..."

"I think you should learn how to speak." Fan Lin threatened, Fan Lin was really impatient with Kreacher's behavior.

Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not. The elf straightened up and glared at them with malicious eyes, and apparently believed they couldn't hear it, so it continued to grunt.

"...there are some kids here, standing here shamelessly, oh, how my mistress would scream if she knew, oh, there's a new boy here, Kreacher doesn't know his name. He Kreacher doesn't know what he's doing here..."

"This is Harry, Kreacher," Hermione said tentatively.

"Harry Potter." Kreacher's pale eyes widened, and he grunted faster and angrier than before. The child was talking to Kreacher like a friend, "If Kreacher's mistress saw it like this, oh, she would say -"

"Don't call her a brat!" Ron and Ginny shouted angrily at the same time.

"It's okay," Hermione whispered, "It's in a trance now, it doesn't know what it's talking about -"

"Don't lie to yourself, Hermione, it knows exactly what it's talking about," Fred saw disgust on Kreacher's face.

Kreacher was still purring, his eyes looking at Harry. "Is this real? Is this Harry Potter? Kreacher can see the scar. It must be real. It was this little boy who stopped the Dark Lord. Kreacher wonders how he did it-"

"Leave us all alone, Kreacher," Fred said.

"What are you doing anyway?" George asked. Kreacher's big eyes turned to George.

"Kreacher is cleaning," it said evasively.

"A fitting excuse," said a voice behind Harry.

Sirius had returned; he was glaring at the elf from the doorway. The noise in the living room had died down; perhaps Mrs. Weasley and Mundungus had moved their battleground to the kitchen.

Seeing Sirius, Kreacher bowed deeply, his pig-like snout almost touching the ground.

"Stand up," Sirius shouted impatiently, "Now, what are you going to do?"

"Kreacher is cleaning up," the elf repeated.

"Kreacher is going to tidy up the noble house of the Black family—"

"And it's getting darker every day. It's a filthy hell of a place," said Sirius.

"Master always likes his little jokes," Kreacher said. He bowed again and continued to whisper, "Master is a dirty, ungrateful pig. He broke his mother's heart-"

"My mother has no heart, Kreacher," cried Sirius suddenly, "she allows herself to live outside of pure things."

It bowed again as Kreacher spoke.

"No matter what the master says," it grunted angrily, "the master is not worthy of cleaning his mother's boots. Oh! My poor mistress, what would she say if she saw Kreacher serving him? She hates it so much. Master, how disappointing he is——"

"I asked you what you were going to do," Sirius said coldly, "Every time you lied and said you were going to clean, you secretly hid the garbage in your room, so we couldn't throw it away."

"Kreacher never removes anything from its rightful place in the Master's room," replied the elf, and then quickly complained, "The Mistress would certainly not have done that if that tapestry had been thrown away. Forgive Kreacher, it has been in this family for seven hundred years, Kreacher must keep it, Kreacher will not let the master, his friends, and these brats destroy it-"

"I think that's it," Sirius looked contemptuously at the opposite wall, "She will cast another possession spell on this wall, I have no doubt, but if I can throw it away I will definitely do this Did it. Now get lost, Kreacher."

It seemed that Kreacher did not dare to disobey a direct order; however, when he passed by Sirius, he gave Sirius the most disgusted look, and then grunted all the way out.

"-The guy who came back from Azkaban ordered Kreacher around. Oh! My poor mistress, what would she say if she saw this house now, with a bunch of garbage living in it and her treasures thrown out? , she cursed him for not being her son, but he came back, and they all said he was a murderer——"

"I'll kill you if you keep nagging!" Sirius said angrily as he shut the elf out hard.

"Sirius, there's something wrong with his brain," Hermione tried to defend Kreacher. "I don't think he realizes that we can hear him."

"He's been here alone for too long," said Sirius, "taking crazy orders from my mother's portrait and talking only to himself, but he's always been an evil little--"

"If you could give it its freedom," Hermione said hopefully, "maybe—"

"We can't give it freedom, it knows too much about the Phoenix Order," Sirius said simply, "and the shock will kill it anyway. Go ahead and suggest it leave the house and see it. Will you carry out the order?" Sirius walked across the room to the tapestry that Kreacher had tried so hard to protect and which was now hanging on the wall.

The rest of the group followed Sirius.

The tapestry looked very old; it was dirty, torn, and looked to be full of insect bites. But the thin golden lines edging it still gleamed, revealing that they represented a family tree that dated back to the Middle Ages.

In huge words at the top of the tapestry were written: The noble and ancient house of the Tangiers P. Black family.

"Your name isn't here!" Harry shouted after reading the last line of the family tree.

"My name was in that spot," Sirius said, pointing to a small, cigarette-burned hole in the tapestry. "My dear old mother removed me when I ran away from home - Kreacher was interested in whispering the story."

"You ran away from home?" Fan Lin asked curiously, "You haven't told me yet."

"When I was sixteen," said Sirius, "I was old enough."

"Where have you been?" Harry asked, staring at him.

"Your father," said Sirius, "your grandparents were really good people; they raised me as their little son. Yes, your father and I went camping during the school holidays. I got my own house when I was seventeen. My uncle Alferhard left me some gold - he has been wiped out from here too, maybe because - anyway, from I'll take care of myself after that. And I always welcome the Potters for lunch on Sundays."

"But...why did you...?"

"Run away from home?" Sirius smiled bitterly and used his fingers to smooth his long, disheveled hair. "Because I hate all the people here. My parents have pure blood madness. They believe that becoming a dark wizard can... Makes you actually noble... That idiot brother of mine who was stupid enough to believe them... that's who he is."

Sirius placed his finger very far down in the family tree, where the name was "Regulus Attalus Black." A death date follows the birth date.

"He was younger than me," said Sirius, "and a much better son. I think of him often."

"But he's dead," Harry said. "Yes," Sirius replied, "Stupid idiot, he joined the Death Eaters."

"You are joking!"

"Come on, Harry, doesn't this house let you see what kind of wizard my family belongs to?" Sirius said irritably.

"Yes - are your parents also Death Eaters?"

"No, no, but believe me, they think Voldemort's idea is correct. They all agree to purify the blood of wizards, eliminate people of Muggle blood and use pure-blood wizards. They are not individual people. After Voldemort exposed his Before his true form, there were a lot of people who thought he was right when they saw Voldemort was about to take power and offered him gold. But I bet my parents thought Regulus was one of the first to join the Corpse Eaters. A true little hero.”

"Was he killed by an Auror?" Harry asked tentatively.

"Oh, no," said Sirius, "he was killed by Voldemort. Or more figuratively on Voldemort's orders; I highly doubt that Regulus would have been important enough for Voldemort to kill him himself. Since his death I have It turns out that he was too involved, and then he refused to carry out the order and asked to quit the Corpse Eaters. Yes, but you didn't just put a resignation letter into Voldemort's hands. That was a A life of service or death."

"It's lunch," came Mrs. Weasley's voice. She held her wand high, and in front of her lay a large stack of sandwiches, with cake on top. Her face was red and she looked angry. Everyone else went over to Mrs. Weasley to ask for food, but Harry remained beside Sirius, who was bending closer to the tapestry. (To be continued)