A few days ago.
12 Grimmauld Place, Black's old mansion.
Sirius slouched on the sofa, looking idle, his black curly hair casually draped.
Compared to a month or so ago, he looked much better, with a little more flesh on his face, finally no longer looked like a skeleton that just dug out from the grave. Instead, he looked somewhat skinny and normal.
His feet stomped on an elegant and antique coffee table, and every once in a while, Sirius would glance at the palm-sized piece of paper, which, in addition to some simple lines, is densely packed with small black dots, with only a few names written in golden ink occasionally moving.
He stayed like that till noon when the house-elf Kreacher appeared dragging his body, Sirius's attention shifted.
Kreacher holding a dirty rag in his hand, it is hard to tell which is cleaner, this rag or the rag he is wearing on his body, maybe this rag is his worn-out cloth?
Sirius wondered idly, when Kreacher slowly, step by step moved to his side, Sirius glanced at him with lingering gaze, watched him jump onto the coffee table, holding up the rag and muttering: "The loser young master doesn't know where he learned the bad habit, just putting his feet like this, the lady usually likes to drink tea here, and has also entertained many equally noble guests ..."
"Kreacher, your feet are dirtier than my shoes!" Sirius yelled in anger.
"... carries many precious memories ah, if the lady knows it you don't know how sad ..."
Sirius's eyebrows jumped for a while, the frown between his brows went away, and he jumped up at once, as he grabbed the cloth behind the neck of the house-elf - let's call it the back collar - and prepared to throw him out.
Kreacher did not resist, still chattering, "No match for his brother, who truly bears the responsibility-"
"You're talking about Regulus?" Sirius paused in his tracks and said, "He's an idiot, I always thought he was smart enough to know how to save himself ... And what happened? He ran off and joined the Death Eaters!"
"Young Master Regulus is not an idiot!" Kreacher struggled fiercely, his body swung around, he looked like some kind of wind-up toy, "He is ten thousand times better than you, he joined the Death Eaters instead of you ..."
"What did you say?" Sirius glared and lifted Kreacher high, carrying him to the same eye level as him, "Tell me clearly--"
But Kreacher kept struggling, his nose and eyes were all messy with tears and snot. Sirius tossed him to the couch in disgust.
"I'm telling you, Kreacher! He's an admirer of Voldemort, always has been. Know why everyone in the family prefers him? Because he lives up to what they want Noble Black to be like ..."
"I even wrote him a letter asking him to stay away from Voldemort and hide. How did it turn out, he joined the Death Eaters as soon as he graduated. My parents must be overjoyed to finally clear my stain, they can say to the outside world again that a brave little hero has come out of their family, no?"
Kreacher laid on the floor, whimpering and sobbing, his mouth spewing out a series of profanities, "... know no shame, make muggle friends ... dirty, cowardly, smelly ..."
Sirius said angrily, "Stinky? Then I'll show you the Muggle way, and to be honest, I've wanted to do it for a long time."
He carried Kreacher to the second-floor bathroom, and threw him into the bathtub, as he opened the facet with a small snake pattern, " So dirty, I spent twelve years in Azkaban, but still not as outrageous as you!"
Kreacher was held by Sirius, cleaned from head to toe on one side, he also used his wand to conjure up a brush, constantly scrubbing, even Kreacher's bare scalp wrinkles dirt are clean, he said proudly: "Now you should be satisfied, right? I serve you as your master ..."
A minute later, he began to regret, the water in the bathtub looked like a dozen bottles of ink had been poured into it, and gave off a stench, "vomit ~" he could not help but feel nausea, unbelievably he raised Kreacher's hand: "You are using this hand to cook for me these days?"
Sirius opened the stopper of the bathtub and let the water flow, and kept it running for half an hour-
Kreacher sat on the couch clean and dry, his skin flushed with pink, even the hair in his bat-like ears are like white and fluffy as cotton wool, and he looked uncomfortable, staring at his toes for a moment.
Sirius came out of the bathroom, as he had a bath too, or else he would carry a strange smell.
He looked at the silent Kreacher with satisfaction, lying comfortably on the sofa reading comics, which the guy called "Felix Hap" gave him, saying that it's to let him pass the time, along with a pile of Easter eggs, he picked the ugliest one and gave it to Kreacher.
The afternoon time passed pleasantly, even the air is much fresher. In the late afternoon, he walked out of the old Black mansion and went to the community room of Grimmauld Place.
"Yo, young man, again today?" A dry, thin old man said.
"Yeah," Sirius said carelessly, arranging some pieces, "I go first?"
"Then you should have taken the white pieces." The old man said.
" Does it matter?" Sirius picked a black knight in his hand as he muttered, "If only this piece could move."
The old man laughed freely, "You're funny ... but it can't!"
The two played two games, both ended with Sirius losing, in the third game, he kept scratching his chin, thinking hard, "I remember it wasn't that hard, I was able to make 60 or 70 moves when I played with Remus ..."
An old woman carrying a cloth bag came into the community room, glancing around, as she approached and grabbed the old man by the ear, "Your son and daughter-in-law are back, and you're still playing chess here?"
"Finish this game, finish this game -" said the old man, with a pleading tone.
So the old woman sat next to them and watched them play chess, the old man frowned, and by now it had reached a critical stage, and the two were killing each other, and the old woman looked on coldly and suddenly said, "Old man, move your queen."
"Right." In Sirius's dumbfounded expression, the old man used his white queen to kill Sirius's black knight.
"That's not fair!" Sirius said, "Two of you against just me!"
The old woman grinned, "You can just ignore him, he was taught by me." However, she stopped talking, but the situation is irreversible, and Sirius watched as he got checkmated to death.
The old man scattered the chessboard, "This game doesn't count, we'll play again later." He left with the old woman in tow.
"My son didn't fight with the family across the street, did he?"
"No, They sent a gift. What's the word? Reformed ... these six months they no longer play the stereo in the middle of the night, I said it and you did not believe me, I listened to the advice of a young man then handed a card to them, and just like this young man, he has dark hair ..."
Meanwhile, in a gloomy and dilapidated inn.
A shrill voice whispered, his voice as cold and harsh as the icy wind: "Go on, Barty, inform Peter ... to bring Harry Potter to me, I want him alive."
"As you command, my lord! I will give my life for you!" Barty Crouch Jr. with his light yellow messy hair said fervently.
"No, my dear Barty," said the voice behind the chair, "you must remember that this is only a risky attempt - under Dumbledore's nose - and you must first save yourself. "
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