Hogwarts: Harry Returns from Azeroth

Chapter 261, Section 260: Slytherin's Locket Found!
Completely speechless, Neville finally understood how Ron had felt during the last part of the semester—he was incredibly happy, so happy that he would wonder if he was dreaming every morning when he woke up.

"Oh, right, Harry," Neville said, sniffling, after finally wiping away his tears, "Mom said they wanted to help too, uh, they wanted to thank you properly."

“For patients who have been bedridden for a long time, the most important thing is to rest well,” Harry shrugged. “So forget it. If they really want to thank me, they can treat me to a meal after they’ve recovered… Hmm, I’d like some barbecue.”

“That works!” Neville agreed immediately. “But I don’t know if they will agree.”

“Oh, you can just not bring them,” Ron chuckled. “But then again, I have a feeling we’ll need at least a holiday to clean this house…maybe not even a holiday. It’s just too big and too dangerous.”

"Can you imagine? Just now, when I was trying to carry some trash out, that broken pipe quietly wrapped around my neck. If I hadn't reacted quickly, it would have strangled me!"

Ron recounted the harrowing experience with lingering fear, repeatedly gesturing with his neck.

As a pure-blooded noble family that has always revered dark magic, the Black mansion is practically a dark magic paradise. Well, the kind of place where old Burke would drool would be. There are old magical or dark magic items everywhere.

These things greatly delayed the cleaning progress of the group, since they had to carefully check that each item would not pose any danger to them before cleaning it.

Bang!
Suddenly, a loud slamming door slammed shut came from downstairs, accompanied by Sirius's screams and a woman's shrill curses.

"That damned pureblood traitor, how dare he step into our territory—"

The woman's voice stopped abruptly, while Sirius's voice grew louder.

"Children! Look what I brought back!"

"Come to the dining room! Ron! Harry!"

"That's right! Hermione too! Come and see what good stuff we brought back!"

The old, gloomy house was suddenly filled with a lively atmosphere. Harry and his friends exchanged glances and then headed to the living room on the second floor.

Well, the second floor was one of the first places to be cleared out, since they all needed a place to sit and eat.

When Harry and the others came down, they saw Fred, George, and their father, Mr. Weasley, enthusiastically carrying food and drinks from a large bag onto the table in the center of the living room.

"What is this?" Ron sniffed. "It smells so good!"

“Hamburgers!” Mr. Weasley replied enthusiastically, “and all sorts of other fast food—I suppose it’s called fast food?”

"That's right, hamburgers, fish and chips, Yorkshire pudding, eel jelly, and roast meat... Don't just stand there, kids, come and get whatever you want!" Sirius laughed and said, "I recommend you try KFC's hamburgers, they're much better than McDonald's!"

It was as if a fast food restaurant had been ransacked; all sorts of food and cola were quickly piled up on the table.

“Oh, I think McDonald’s tastes better,” Fred mumbled, his mouth full of food. “It’s spicier and looks more appetizing, don’t you think, Dad?”

“They’re all good, I think they’re all good.” Mr. Weasley looked like he was in a dream, holding a hamburger in his left hand and a piece of fried chicken in his right, his eyes still fixed on the other things on the table. “To be honest, these things taste much better than Molly’s—”

"Cough cough, Mom, you're back so soon?" George suddenly coughed twice loudly, his gaze fixed on the stairs.

"—It's nowhere near as good!" Mr. Weasley's tone shifted abruptly. "No wonder those Muggles call this junk food. I think it's not as good as Molly's cooking, Molly—"

Ignoring the smiles on Harry and the others' faces, Mr. Weasley turned around as he spoke, only to find the stairwell empty.

"Fred!!"

"Oh! Dad! I'm Fred!"

"Oh? Sorry, then George!!!"

A scene of filial piety between father and son.

Sirius was especially happy, slapping his thigh exaggeratedly. His relationship with Mr. Weasley had become very good during this time, after all, Sirius could be considered Mr. Weasley's senior when it came to modifying Muggle items.

Moreover, compared to Mr. Weasley, who only knew a little about Muggles and could only be considered a half-baked Muggle expert, Sirius truly understood Muggle society—he knew how to buy things with paper money, how to wear normal Muggle clothes, and what certain items were for.

Twelve years ago, Sirius Black was already flying around on a magically modified motorcycle, so Mr. Weasley was practically an apprentice in his presence, showing him immense respect.

Learn, ask questions, and then put them into practice.

This was Mr. Weasley's happiest summer since graduating from Hogwarts, as his hobbies and knowledge had grown considerably—and he had a safe place to indulge them without fear of being ambushed by his wife.

"Honestly, Sirius, are you really going to get rid of all those magical items?" Ron said, chewing on fried chicken. "Isn't it a bit of a waste?"

Previously, just a few people had cleared out many strange magical objects from the living room on the second floor. For example, in the cabinet next to the fireplace, there was a rusty short sword, the claws of some unknown animal, coiled snakeskin, a snuff bottle that could bite, or a metal object that looked like many tweezers put together and could crawl on its own...

“Not at all!” Sirius said readily. “I’ve been sick of these things for a long time. To be honest, if my mother hadn’t cast a spell on that family tree tapestry and everything else she thought was important and couldn’t take it down, I wouldn’t want to see these things anymore.”

"Even if all curses are used up, it won't help?" Hermione asked.

“Yes, it didn’t work. That’s the magic of the permanent seal,” Sirius laughed. “But it doesn’t matter. I’ve already shut her up in another way.”

Hanging in the first-floor porch is a portrait of Sirius's mother, who curses anyone who sees her with the most vicious curses, and even Sirius is not immune. Unable to take it down, Sirius can only cover it with a curtain, but even so, she is startled awake and screams if anyone makes too much noise walking through the corridor. It's practically like an alarm clock.

“That’s really… haha…” Hermione chuckled dryly. She was reluctant to recall the old woman’s description of her. In the past few days, she had come to a deep understanding of the status of a Muggle wizard like herself in the eyes of pure-blooded wizarding nobles.

In comparison, Hermione even felt that Draco Malfoy's previous attitude was somewhat friendly.

“Well, I actually think it’s not bad to keep these things as a collection.” Ron rummaged through the box with some regret. “Maybe we’ll need something in there someday. Why don’t you find an empty room and pile them up?”

"Absolutely not!" Sirius Black raised his hands in a cross shape. "I'm a legitimate Gryffindor, and Gryffindors don't need any dark magic items!"

"So, for generations before that, the Black family was all Slytherin and Gryffindor, right?" George laughed heartily. "But that is indeed a good idea. From your children onward, the Black family will be the Gryffindor family for generations."

“Actually, all the houses are pretty much the same. There’s no need to deliberately put on a certain image just because of the house,” Harry said, shaking his head slightly. “But you’re right about one thing: have you found a girl you like, Sirius? I’d love to attend your wedding.”

“Harry, I think I have to remind you again, I am your godfather… Don’t you think the conversation was reversed just now?” Sirius said with a complicated expression, “I should be the one urging you, I still want to attend your wedding!”

“You’re almost forty, Sirius,” Harry said calmly. “So first—do you have any goals? I can talk to them on your behalf.”

"Ugh, this burger feels a bit dry... Where's the Coke? Give me a Coke, please." Sirius immediately turned his head to talk about other things, and moved his butt to sit next to Ron, also rummaging through the box. "Hmm, this junk is probably all Kreacher's pick-up stuff, ha! I remember throwing this portrait away at least ten times, looks like Kreacher picked it up again—that disloyal bastard, I have to go see what he's been bringing home!"

After saying that, Sirius fled as if his life depended on it. He went straight to the kitchen, where Kreacher, the Black family's house-elf, lived in the cupboard next to the boiler.

Before long, the group heard Sirius Black's cursing coming from the kitchen, followed by even louder cursing from the house-elves.

"Give it back! Give Kreacher's things back to me!!!"

"I am the master of this house! Your master! Even your life belongs to me!!"

"That disgraced young master is unworthy to command Kreacher! The mistress will curse you! He even stole Kreacher's treasure! That belonged to young master Regulus—ah! Bad Kreacher! Bad Kreacher!!"

Bang bang bang! !

There was a clear clanging sound as something was being smacked, followed by Sirius's roar.

"What did you say?! Regulus's?! You stole Regulus's things?!"

"Young Master Regulus is the real Black! That spendthrift son of yours isn't even worth a hair on his leg! He's a disgrace to the mistress's family lineage! A scoundrel!"

"Damn it! That wretched Kreacher has messed things up again! Not only did he fail to carry out Master Regulus's orders, he even let these bastards, scum, and brats defile him..."

"Answer my question!" Sirius was already roaring in anger, "I am your master! Now! Immediately! Answer your master's question! Kreacher!!"

Sirius was no longer just making up an excuse to escape Harry's pressure to get married; he was now genuinely enraged. When Harry and the others exchanged glances and rushed to the kitchen, they saw Sirius kick an old house-elf to the ground.

"How dare you steal Regulus's things!!"

"Kreacher didn't!!"

While screaming like that, Kreacher seemed oblivious to Sirius's kick. He was completely absorbed in his own world, kneeling on the ground and desperately banging his head against the ground. He did so with such force that he quickly broke his forehead and his face was covered in blood.

"That was given to Kreacher by Master Regulus! Kreacher, Kreacher made a mistake! Kreacher failed to carry out the young master's orders!!"

This house-elf is desperately punishing itself.

"Stop!!" Sirius roared again, "No! I won't allow you to punish yourself!!"

The master's command was effective; Kreacher lay stiffly on the cold stone floor, tears streaming from his sunken eye sockets.

“Yes, this is it…” Staring blankly at everything in the kitchen, Harry looked around and muttered to himself, “This is the scene I saw in the divination… Damn it, I should have checked the whole house right away.”

The dusty objects, the old mansion—everything displayed and the layout of the rooms matched the scene Harry witnessed when he was divining Voldemort's Horcruxes.

"What?" Ron turned his head in surprise. "Fortune telling? What fortune telling? What did you ask about?"

“Voldemort’s Horcrux,” Harry said, looking at the object Sirius was holding in his hand. “That’s it. Give it to me, Sirius.”

"Huh?!" Sirius's eyes widened in disbelief. "Voldemort's Horcrux?! It?!"

Although he never had a kind word to say when mentioning the volcano, Sirius suddenly shuddered when he realized what he was holding in his hand.

"That's Kreacher's! It's Kreacher's!!"

Just as Sirius was about to hand the Horcrux to Harry, Kreacher, who had been lying peacefully on the ground, suddenly lunged at Harry's hand like a madman.

"The force is released and the energy dissipates!"

A flash of light appeared, Hermione lowered her wand, and the emotionally charged Kreacher instantly lost all his strength, his entire body... his entire house-elf collapsed limply to the ground.

(End of this chapter)