[HP]Hogwarts famous beauties

Mrs. Weasley straightened up and took a stance in front of the curtain, gesturing for everyone to come over. "As soon as I give the command, I will start spraying immediately." She carefully stepped out of everyone's spray range and raised her own spray. "Get ready! Squirt!"

A vixen flew out, its shiny wings buzzing and flapping, its pointed teeth exposed, its small body covered with thick black hair, and its four small fists clenched tightly angrily. Winter screamed in fright, and she sprayed the medicine frantically until Hu Meizi fell to the ground. If it hadn't been covered with black hair, Winter would have stepped on it a few more times.

It took almost a whole morning to get rid of the fox bugs in the curtains. It was not until noon that the curtains stopped buzzing and hung limply, wet from too much spray.

Beneath them, unconscious foxes lay densely packed in the bucket, with their black eggs in a bowl next to them. Crookshanks sniffed them, and Fred and George looked at them eagerly. The others felt like they were about to vomit.

"Let's deal with those after lunch." Mrs. Weasley pointed to the dusty glass-door cabinets on both sides of the mantelpiece, which were filled with all kinds of weird things.

The doorbell rang, Mrs. Weasley hurried down to open the door, and everyone gathered around the window to listen.

"...We are not a place to hide stolen goods!"

"I love hearing Mum yell at people," said Fred with a satisfied smile on his face, opening the door an inch or two to let Mrs. Weasley's voice come in more clearly, "Change It tastes really good.”

Kreacher sidled in. He didn't seem to pay attention to the people at all. He seemed to not be able to see them. He arched his back, shuffled his feet, and slowly, step by step, walked toward the other end of the room. She kept muttering softly: "It smells like sewers and criminals. She is no better, the annoying old prodigal, leading her little cubs to destroy my mistress's house. Oh, my poor mistress, What would she say to old Kreacher if she knew, if she knew what kind of scum they let into her door. Oh, what a shame, mudbloods, werewolves, liars and thieves, poor old Kreacher Kreacher, what can he do..."

"Kreacher, why are you here?" Winter is the only one who can communicate with Kreacher normally, maybe because Winter treats him better.

"Kreacher didn't see Miss just now." He said, turning around and bowing to Winter, "Kreacher came to clean up."

"How have you been lately?" Winter was concerned about Kreacher, "Oh... Miss, very good, very good..." Kreacher turned around and glanced at Hermione, "That Mudblood, standing there unscrupulously, here is another There's a new boy here, Kreacher doesn't know his name. What is he doing here...Kreacher doesn't know..."

"Kreacher, this is Harry," Hermione said timidly, "Harry Potter." Kreacher's two light-colored eyes suddenly widened, and he muttered faster and more angry than before: "That mudblood actually talks to Kreacher as if she were my friend. If Kreacher's mistress saw him with someone like that, oh, what would she say!"

"Kreacher, don't do this." Winter said helplessly, and Kreacher bowed deeply, "Miss is a kind person..." Then turned around, "If the mistress knows that the miss is friends with a mudblood, the mistress will What would I say to the lady...The lady should not have been engaged to the prodigal son in the first place..."

"Don't call her a Mudblood!" Ron and Ginny said at the same time very angrily.

"It doesn't matter," Hermione whispered, "He's not in his right mind and doesn't know what he's saying..."

"Don't kid yourself, Hermione, he knows exactly what he's talking about." Fred said, glaring at Kreacher with great disgust.

Kreacher was still mumbling something, looking at Harry. "Is this real? Is it really Harry Potter? Kreacher saw the scar. It must be real. He is the boy who stopped the Dark Lord. Kreacher doesn't know how he did it..."

Sirius came back, and he glared at Kreacher angrily at the door. As soon as Kreacher saw Sirius, he immediately bowed deeply, his body was so low that it was ridiculous, "Stand up quickly," Sirius said impatiently, "Okay Yes, what do you want to do?"

"Kreacher is cleaning," the elf said again, "Kreacher will serve the noble Black family all his life..."

"But the house is getting darker every day, it's so dirty, and you haven't cleaned it properly at all," Sirius said.

"The young master always likes to make little jokes," Kreacher said, bowing again, and then lowered his voice and started talking, "the young master is a nasty, ungrateful and dirty guy who broke his mother's heart..."

"My mother has no heart, Kreacher," Sirius said irritably. "She lives entirely on resentment."

"No matter what the young master says," he muttered angrily, "the young master is not even worthy to clean the soles of his mother's shoes. Oh, my poor mistress, what will he say if he sees Kreacher serving the young master? How disgusting he is. Disappointed…”

"I asked you what exactly you plan to do." Sirius said coldly, "Every time you come out and pretend to clean, you always sneak something into your room and don't let us throw it away."

"Okay, don't be so angry, Sirius." Winter tried to dissuade Sirius, "He just held it in for too long."

"Okay, let's go, Kreacher."

Kreacher could not disobey a direct order, so he shuffled out, giving Sirius a look filled with unforgettable hatred.

"What if we let him go free," Hermione said hopefully, "maybe..."

"We can't let him go free. He knows too much about the Order of the Phoenix." Sirius said rudely. "And, no matter what, the shock will kill him." Sirius walked to the room. At the other end, the tapestry that Kreacher had tried so hard to protect covered the entire wall. Harry and the others followed.

The tapestry looked very old, and the color had faded. However, the gold thread embroidered on it still shone brightly. They could clearly see a branching family tree that could be traced back to the Middle Ages. There are several large words embroidered on the top of the tapestry: The noble and oldest Black family is always pure.

"You're not up there!" Harry said, looking at the bottom line of the family tree.

"It was up there." Sirius said, pointing to a small blackened round hole in the tapestry, like a cigarette burn mark. "After I ran away from home, my dear old mother destroyed me. Kreacher liked to whisper the story."

"You ran away from home?"

"I was about sixteen," said Sirius, "and I had had enough."

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

"At your father's house," Sirius said, "your grandparents are very considerate. They almost treat me as a second son. Yes, during the school holidays, I temporarily lived at your father's house, and my uncle gave me I left a considerable amount of gold, and he was removed from here, probably because of this. Anyway, since then, I have taken care of myself, and I moved out after graduation. However, Mr. Potter and Madam always welcomed me to their home for dinner every Saturday.”

"But why did you...?"

"Run away from home?" Sirius smiled bitterly and combed his long messy hair with his hands, "Because I hate all of them. My parents are crazy about pure blood. They believe that as a member of the Black family, He is born to be noble... My stupid brother, who is too weak in temperament, actually believed their words... That's him."

Winter saw the name at the bottom: Regulus Black.

"He's younger than me," Sirius said, "and I'm constantly reminded that he's a much better son than I am."

"But he's dead," said Harry.

"Yeah," said Sirius, "Stupid idiot...he joined the Death Eaters."

"Are you kidding me?" Harry said in shock.

"Listen to me, Harry, after looking at the state of this house, don't you understand what kind of wizards my family are?" Sirius said impatiently.

"Are your parents Death Eaters too?"

"No, but they think Voldemort's ideas are correct. They all agree to maintain the purity of wizard blood and let pure-blood people hold power. They are not unique. Before Voldemort revealed his true face, many people thought that he Was right about some things... However, they all got cold feet when they found out he would do anything to gain power. But I guess my parents must have thought Regulus was a brave man for joining in the first place Little hero.”

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

"Oh, no," Sirius said, "No, he was killed by Voldemort. Or, more likely, he was killed under Voldemort's instructions. From what I learned after his death, he was already in deep trouble. , and then he was afraid of what others asked him to do, and wanted to quit. You can't hand in a resignation letter to Voldemort and be done with it. Either you work for the rest of your life, or you die."

"No, that's not the case." Winter said from the side, "He is a good boy, indeed a little hero."

"Winter...?" Before Sirius could ask further, Mrs. Weasley called them to eat.

"You are related to the Malfoy family!" Harry said so loudly that Winter ran back to listen, still eating a sandwich.

"Pure-blood families are all related to each other," Sirius said. "If you just want your children to marry pure-blood people, then your options are very limited. People like us have There wasn't much left, so my old mother chose the Misson family far away in France, and of course, the beautiful lady next to you."

"Yeah." Winter made a vague sound with his mouth full of sandwiches.

"This is why Kreacher is quite normal towards Winter. Her aunt is very nice to Kreacher."

"Yeah." Winter ran to get a sandwich to eat again.

"Hurry up, you two, or there'll be nothing to eat," Mrs. Weasley shouted.

That afternoon they were clearing out a glass-door cabinet, a job that required a lot of concentration because many of the items in the cabinet seemed reluctant to leave the dusty shelves. Winter stared inside, trying to find the locket. .

Saw it! Over there! Winter took the locket and looked up at Sirius, "I want this, give me this."

"What do you want this for?" Sirius asked in confusion.

"Don't worry about it! Just give it to me." Winter took the locket and ran back to her room and put it in the drawer.

Mrs. Weasley made them work very hard over the next few days. It took three days to disinfect the living room. Finally, there were two unpleasant things left in the room: the tapestry of the Blake family tree, which they could not get off the wall in every possible way, and the rattling writing desk. Moody hadn't stopped by the headquarters yet, so they weren't sure what was inside.