It's a low-hued, old, residential neighborhood full of overgrown weeds and mottled wall ash.

But the chaotic lights showed that there were still many people living here, and the scattered light and shadow in the pre-dawn darkness looked a little oppressive.

It wasn't until she got closer that Maca noticed that most of the lights were flickering street lamps, and a small amount of light peeking through the cracks in the curtains.

As far as the eye can see, there are chimneys and TV antennas everywhere.

????“ It's right in front. ”

As they passed a small square with a mess of weeds, Blake pointed ahead.

The houses, no matter how big or small, all have a dirty appearance. Some of the windows of the houses were broken, and it was so dark that it was impossible to see anything clearly.

The paint that had long since lost its bright light peeled off those gates, and a large amount of garbage piled up on the steps ahead.

"You haven't been home in 12 years." Maca couldn't help but be enlightened.

But Blake shook his head, and he said, "It's been a little longer than you think." ”

12 Grimandi Street, an old house that has been devastated by time. By the time Maca saw it, it was as broken as the surrounding houses.

The windows were mostly broken, and the thick doors were already covered with vines, with no keyholes or letterbox cracks.

The silver carved doorknob had twisted and twisted to look like a small snake attached to a broken log.

When you look up, you can see that the corners are mostly entrenched by spiders, trying to catch some delicious flying insects.

The whole area near the base of the wall was damp, and the gray moss was covered in color, and it was as slippery as Blake's collar.

All right! In fact, Marca recalls the terrible touch of everything she looks at this moment.

Blake stretched out his wand and knocked on the door. After hearing a few dull, metallic clicks on either side, a hinge sounded on the other side.

The gate broke free from the vines and creaked open.

"It's been too long since no one has been around, and there must be some mess that has made a home in it...... Don't just walk around. Blake said, "Follow me." ”

Maca followed Black into the dark hall, and suddenly a sweet smell mixed with moisture came to her face—the smell of wood rotting.

The floor creaked when stepped on, breaking the silence.

Blake waved his wand casually, and with a soft hissing sound, the old-fashioned gas lamps on all the walls lit up, casting a flickering, unstable light onto the torn wallpaper around it, and illuminating a long worn carpet.

Directly above the carpet, a cobweb-covered tree-shaped decorative lamp flickered, and old, blackened portraits hung from the swollen and twisted walls of wood.

To be honest, this decadent appearance is really not as good as not looking at it.

Without saying a word, Blake led Maca through a pair of long, moth-infested curtains, and around a large umbrella stand that looked like several giant's legs.

They then walked up a carved wooden staircase with handrails.

On the wall on one side of the staircase, there is a coat of arms family coat of arms.

The coat of arms is generally black, and between the two stars is Yamagata as the main body, a sword as the base, and the whole body is silver, and there are two gray dogs leaping up on either side.

Just below the imposing family coat of arms, a row of shrunken heads, framed on the wall as decorations, is particularly unsightly.

It was the head of the black family's house-elves, and whenever an elf was too old to hold a plate, they would chop off their heads as decorations for the owner's house.

For house-elves, it seems like an honor.

“…… I heard that this was the idea that your family came up with first? Maca said as she looked at the row of things.

"Yes, my Aunt Elladora." Blake sneered and said, "Come this way." ”

Maca followed Black all the way to the door of a certain room, but unexpectedly, a small figure suddenly appeared in front of the door, blocking their way.

"Who did Kreacher see? The son who was not the son of the mistress returned from Azkaban...... Oh! My poor mistress, what would she say if she saw this house now? A fugitive has returned? She had been cursing that he wasn't her son, but he came back, and they all said he was a murderer—"

It was an elderly house-elf who was almost completely naked, except for a string of filthy rats tied around his waist.

The drooping skin made it look like it was wearing an oversized outfit, and although it was bare, hairless like the other house-elves, a large number of white eyebrows protruded from above its large, bat-like eyes.

Its eyes were bloodshot, damp and gray, and its flesh-colored nose was as large as any other elf, or more appropriately, like a dead Flober caterpillar.

The elf seemed to have no notice of the two of them—it stood stubbornly in front of the door, hunched over and with its head bowed.

Its muttering was hoarse and deep in his breath, purring like a bullfrog.

"Kreacher?" A hint of surprise flashed in Blake's eyes, but then it turned into disgust, "I can't imagine that everyone is dead, but you are still alive." ”

At this time, the elder Kreacher raised his head slightly and glanced at Blake, but the next second he fell down again.

Then, with a deep bow, its fat nose almost touching the ground.

Kreacher said vaguely, "How can Kreacher die?" If Kreacher is dead, who will continue to take care of the mistress's house? ”

"But it's getting dark, it's a dirty place!" Sirius said.

"Master always loves his little jokes," Kreacher bowed again, and continued to whisper, "Master is a dirty, unappreciative pig, and he has hurt his mother's heart—"

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

As Blake spoke, Kreacher bowed again, as if it had become a reflex.

"Whatever the master says," it muttered angrily, "the master is not worthy of polishing his mother's boots, oh! My poor mistress, what would she say if she saw Kreacher continuing to serve him? How disappointing she hated her master so much—"

"I don't want to talk nonsense with you anymore, get out of the way from there!" Blake shouted.

Kreacher subconsciously took two steps to the side.

Blake snorted coldly and walked past it, but it was still muttering something bad in its mouth.

As Maca followed Blake as she walked forward, Kreacher suddenly raised her voice a little, though it was still unremarkable.

"Oh! Where did the imp come from...... It was brought by the owner, a filthy hairy boy, who was going into the family library...... It's a ...... of inconsistencies."

"However, you have not completed the task left by your young master." Maca glanced at Kreacher and said calmly.

It was such a fluttering sentence from Maca, but Kreacher suddenly raised his head, and he stared at Maca's face tightly, and opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something.

“…… Come in quickly, don't talk nonsense with it, it won't listen. Blake's voice came from the room.

Maca answered.

"I'll come back another day to deal with the locket, remember to open the door for me." He whispered a message to Kreacher, and walked briskly inside.

"That's all there are - do they really help Harry?"

In the library stacked with shelves, Blake placed a thick stack of magic books on the wooden table, splashing up a cloud of dust.

The books were as dirty as the wooden table, and Blake wasn't in the mood to pay attention to anything.

"Of course, at least I'm sure - Voldemort left Harry with a soul problem." Maca explained, "That's what Professor Dumbledore said. ”

Although the Hogwarts library has one of the largest collections in the world, there are always some books that can only be found in wizarding families.

For example, these are the ones that are in front of Maca's eyes.

"Then put them away and get out of here! I hate this house, then and now—"

……

Ron had become a celebrity at school lately, and everyone was paying more attention to him now than to Harry.

It was the first time in his life that Ron had been treated like this, and he clearly enjoyed the high-profile experience.

Although he was still in a state of horror about the events of that night, whenever someone asked, he would excitedly tell people about the events of that night, and add many exaggerated details.

“…… I was asleep, but I heard the sound of tearing things, and I thought I was dreaming, you know. But another cool breeze blew...... I woke up immediately, and then I realized that one side of the curtain by the bed had been torn off...... I rolled over and saw him standing in front of me! ”

"He's like a skeleton with a big clump of dirty hair! He was holding a big long knife, I think it must be 40 inches long......"

After a while, when he finished, the second-graders who had been listening to his creepy story parted with each other.

"But why?" Ron suddenly turned to Harry and asked, "Why did he run away?" ”

To be honest, Harry was wondering about it, too.

Blake went to the wrong bed, so why not kill Ron and continue looking for Harry?

Twelve years ago, Blake's actions showed that he didn't care about killing innocent people, and this time he was confronted by five unarmed boys, four of whom were still asleep.

"Could it be that Maca's guess at the time was justified?" The thought popped into Harry's mind.

But Ron shook his head.

"If you want me to see, he must know, if I wake everyone up with a scream, it will be very difficult for him to get out of the castle!" "To go back through the hole in that portrait, he'll have to kill the whole house!" You might even meet a teacher! ”