Vol 2 Chapter 803: Kreacher and the Black family

It took almost a whole morning to clean the curtain borers.
At noon, Mrs. Weasley finally took off her protective scarf, fell into an armchair, and jumped out of the chair again with a scream of disgust, because she happened to be Sitting on the big bag full of dead mice.
The curtains no longer buzzed, they became soft and damp from the dense spray, and they hung down.
The worms that were unconscious at their feet lay densely in a bucket. Next to the bucket was a large bowl full of black eggs of worms. Crookshanks was sniffing the bowl and the Weasley brothers were there. Staring greedily at this big bowl.
"I think we will solve its problem after lunch," Mrs. Weasley pointed to the dusty glass cabinets on each side of the fireplace shelf.
The cabinet is filled with all kinds of unpaired things, a carefully selected rusty dagger, a few claws, a roll of snake skin, a large number of silver boxes, engraved with Old English, these vanities Most of them recognize it, after all, magic lines are not learned for nothing.
And the most annoying of all the objects is a gorgeously decorated crystal bottle with a huge opal stuffed with liquid that is indeed blood.
A blood curse, only vampires do.
Fanlin thought helplessly, the old house of the Black family was really amazing. Without Kreacher's help, it would be very difficult work to find Voldemort's Horcrux among so many dark magic items.
The jingle of the doorbell rang again. Everyone looked at Mrs. Weasley.
"Stay here."
When Mrs. Black's scream came from below again, Mrs. Weasley grabbed the big bag full of dead mice and said calmly, "I'm going to get some sandwiches." She left the room and closed it carefully. The door behind him.
Almost at the same time, everyone else rushed to the window and peered down the stairs. They could see a head with unkempt hair and a group of crucibles shaking and balancing.
"Mundungus!" Hermione said. "What is he doing with those crucibles?"
"Maybe it's looking for a safe place to put them," Harry said. "That might be what he was ordered to follow me to do that night? Picking the crucible for the stolen goods?"
"Yes, you are correct!" Fred said, when the front door opened, Mondungus held his cauldron with difficulty, passed through the front door and disappeared from view, "Oh, mom doesn't like... …" He and George walked through the studio and stood by the door listening carefully. Mrs. Black's screams had ceased.
"Mundungus is talking to Sisley and Kingsley," Fred frowned and said in a low voice. "It's impossible to hear... Do you think we are worth the risk of using Shunfeng Ear?"
"Maybe it's worth it," George said. "I can 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 snarling in her highest voice.
"We have no place to make a hiding place for stolen things!"
"Sometimes I like to hear my mother yell at others," Fred said with a satisfied smile on his face. He opened the door about an inch so that Mrs. Weasley's voice could be heard more clearly into the room. Here, "This is such a beautiful change."
"Completely irresponsible, it seems that without the crucibles of stolen goods you dragged in, we would be sad because of lack of funds"
"These idiots are making her step by step," George said, shaking his head. "You must stop her as soon as possible, or she will talk like boiling steam for hours. Since Meng Meng Since Dungues left his job without permission while he was ordered to follow you, his mother has long wanted to find a chance to fix him. Harry—now Sirius’s mother is mad again.

Mrs. Weasley lost her initial sharpness, and the scream came from the portrait in the hall.
George tried to close the door to block the noise, but before he could do so, a house elf entered the edge of the room. Except for tying a string of dirty mice around his waist, it is all over. It looks very old. The skin appeared to be several times larger than its body. Although its other house elves were bare and hairless, a large number of white eyebrows appeared above its huge, bat-like eyes. Its eyes are bloodshot and moist gray-white, and its flesh-colored nose is also very large, or more closely resembles a pig's mouth.
The elf never noticed Harry and the others. It behaved as if it could not see them. It hunched back, walked slowly, stubbornly and slowly, and went all the way to the innermost part of the room. Its muttering voice was hoarse in his breath, Deep, like a bullfrog.
"...Smells like a drain or a criminal's boots, but she is not much better. The dirty and old traitor of blood brings her stinky children and messes up my mistress’s house. My poor mistress, if she knew what garbage these guys brought in, what would she say to old Kreacher, oh, it's shameful, kid, werewolf, traitor, and thief, poor old Klee Cut, what can it do..."
"Hello, Kreacher," Fanlin said abruptly, closing the door and stepping forward.
Mrs. Black's scream was too explosive, obviously, it was beyond their tolerance.
The little elf stopped, no longer muttering to himself, and began to be surprised with a very obvious look of uncertainty.
"Kreacher didn't see the little master," he turned his head and bowed to Fanlin. Still standing on the edge of the carpet, it added in a voice that just happened to be audible, "This is a filthy, wet child of mixed blood."
"Sorry?" said Hermione, "but don't add the last point."
"Kreacher said nothing," Kreacher replied quickly, saying that it was an explanation. It was more like a...
? ?
"This is the girlfriend of the mixed-race child, a dirty mudblood, if the old master is there..."
"I think you should learn how to speak." Fanlin threatened that for Kreacher's behavior, Fanlin was really impatient.
Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not. The little elf straightened up, staring at them with malicious eyes, and obviously believed that they could not hear it, so it continued to mumble.
"...There are some children here, standing here shamelessly, oh, if my mistress knew, oh, how would she scream, there is a new boy here, and Kreacher does not know his name. He What Kreacher is doing here doesn’t know..."
"This is Harry, Kreacher," Hermione said tentatively.
"Harry Potter." Kreacher's pale eyes widened, and it grumbled faster and more angry than before. The child was talking to Kreacher like a friend, "If the mistress of Kreacher saw it like this, oh, she would say--"
"Don't call her a sucky kid!" 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 he's talking about," Fred saw Kreacher's head full of disgust.
Kreacher was still purring, his eyes looked at Harry. "Is this true? Is this Harry Potter? Kreacher can see the scar. It must be true. It was this little boy who stopped the Dark Duke. Kreacher doubted how he did it—"
"Let us all, Kreacher," Fred said.
"Anyway, what are you doing?" George asked. Kreacher's big eyes turned to George.
"Kreacher is cleaning," it said evasively.
"A suitable excuse," Harry said behind him.
Sirius had returned; he was glaring at the elf at the door. The noise in the living room had disappeared; perhaps Mrs. Weasley and Mondungus had moved their battlefield to the kitchen.
Seeing Sirius, Kreacher bowed deeply, his pig-mouth-like nose almost touching the ground.
"Stand up," Sirius called impatiently. "Now, what are you going to do?"
"Kreacher is cleaning," the elf repeated.
"Kreacher is going to tidy up the noble house of the Black family—"
"And it gets darker every day, this is a dirty ghost place," Sirius said.
"The master always likes his little jokes," Kreacher said, bowing again and continuing to whisper, "The master is a dirty, uncomfortable pig. He hurt his mother's heart—"
"My mother has no heart, Kreacher," Sirius called out suddenly, "she allowed herself to live out of pure things."
When Kreacher spoke, he bowed again.
"No matter what the master says," it muttered angrily, "the master doesn't deserve to wipe 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 what you are going to do," Sirius said coldly. "Every time you lie that you are going to clean up, you hide the trash secretly in your room, we can't throw it away."
"In the master's room Kreacher never removes anything from their correct position," the elf replied, and then complained quickly, "If the tapestry is thrown away, the hostess will not Forgive Kreacher, it has been in this house for seven hundred years. Kreacher must keep it. Kreacher will not let the owner, his friends, and these stinky boys destroy it—"
"I think that's the way it is," Sirius looked at the opposite wall contemptuously. "She will cast another possessive magic on this wall. I have no doubt, but if I can throw it away, I will definitely be so. Yes. Go away now, Kreacher."
It seemed that Kreacher did not dare to disobey a direct order; however, when it passed by Sirius, it gave Sirius the most disgusting look, and then murmured all the way out.
"The guy who came back from Azkaban ordered Kreacher everywhere, oh! My poor mistress, what would she say if she saw this house now, a bunch of garbage lived in it, and her treasure was thrown out , She cursed that he was not her son, but he came back, and they all said he was a murderer—"
"If you nag any more, I'll kill you!" he said angrily as Sirius shut the elf out heavily.
"Sirius, it has a problem with its brain," Hermione tried to defend Kreacher, "I don't think it realizes that we can hear it."
"It's been here alone for too long," said Sirius. "It got crazy orders from my mother's portrait, and only talked to herself, but it will always be an evil little—"
"If you can set it free," Hermione said hopefully, "maybe—"
"We can't give it freedom. It knows too much about Phoenix commands," Sirius said simply, "and anyway, this shock will kill it. You suggest it to leave this house and look at it. Will you execute the order?
Sirius walked across the room to the tapestry that Kreacher tried to protect, which was now hanging on the wall.
All the remaining people followed Sirius.
This tapestry looks very old; it is dirty and torn, and it looks like insect bites everywhere. However, the thin golden-yellow lines bordered by it are still shining, which shows that they represent a genealogy dating back to the Middle Ages.
At the very top of the tapestry it is written in huge words: the noble and ancient house of the Tangiers P. Black family.
"Your name is not here!" Harry called after reading the last line of the genealogy.
"My name used to be there," Sirius said, pointing to a small hole in the tapestry that looked like a cigarette burned out. "When I ran away from home, my dear mother removed me— Kreacher was interested in whispering this story."
"You ran away from home?" Fanlin asked curiously, "You haven't told me yet."
"When I was sixteen," Sirius said, "I was old enough then."
"Where have you been?" Harry asked, staring at him.
"Where is your father," said Sirius, "your grandparents are really good people; they raised me like their little son. Yes, when school is off, my father and I go camping in the wild. I had my own house when I was seventeen. My uncle Alfehard left me some gold-he has also been wiped from here, maybe because-anyway, from After that, I will take care of myself. Also, I always welcome the Potters to come for lunch on Sunday."
"But... why are you...?"
"Run away from home?" Sirius smiled bitterly and smoothed his long, tousled hair with his fingers. "Because I hate everyone here. My parents are crazy with pure blood. They are sure that being a dark wizard can Make you noble in fact...My fool brother, he would be so stupid to believe them...that's him."
Sirius put his finger on the very bottom of the genealogy, and the name on it was "Regulus Atalus Black". A date of death follows the date of birth.
"He is younger than me~EbookFREE.me~ Sirius said, "And he is a much better son, I often think of him. "
"But he is 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 wizards 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 are all in favor of purifying the blood of wizards, purging people of Muggle blood, and using pure-blood wizards. They are not individuals. They are exposed in Voldemort. Before his true appearance, many people thought he was right. When they saw Voldemort was about to take power, they offered him gold. But I bet my parents thought Regulus was the first to join the Corpse Eaters. A real little hero."
"Did he be killed by the Auror?" Harry asked tentatively.
"Oh, no," said Sirius. "He was killed by Voldemort. Or, more vividly, to follow Voldemort's orders; I doubt Regulus will be important until Voldemort kills him himself. From his death, I According to the facts discovered, he was involved too deeply, and then he refused to execute the order and asked to quit the Corpse Eater. Yes, but you don’t just need to submit a resignation to Voldemort. That’s one A life-long service, otherwise it is death."
"It's lunch." Mrs. Weasley's voice came. She raised her wand high, and placed a stack of sandwiches in front of her with a cake on top. She flushed and looked angry. Everyone else walked over to Mrs. Weasley to ask for food, but Harry was still staying beside Sirius, who was bending over to get closer to the tapestry.