Hogwarts Study Panel.

Chapter 502: Going Home

The house-elf lay helplessly on the edge of the coffin, large tears streaming down his face.

"Young Master Blake!"

He cried out.

"Master Blake! You're finally back!"

He opened his mouth wide in surprise.

Why aren't you saying anything?

He shouted again.

"Are you asleep? Oh, you really need to take care of yourself, the weather in this house is freaking cold."

With a snap of his fingers, he suddenly found himself embracing a blanket several times his size.

"He's dead."

Sirius couldn't stand it anymore and said irritably.

"He's not dead!!"

The house-elf roared loudly, then began frantically slapping itself.

"How could Kreacher speak to Master Blake like that?"

After he finished speaking, he turned his head away again.

He turned his face toward the carpet and spoke in a voice that everyone could hear:

"—After returning from Azkaban, he started bossing Kreacher around. Oh, my poor mistress, what would she say if she saw this?"

Ha! He brought back some shady characters—she swore she wouldn't acknowledge him as her son, and now he's back, and supposedly a murderer—”

The house-elf was talking like this. He seemed to be very old and hard of hearing, so he spoke in a very loud voice, but he thought that everyone else was also hard of hearing at that volume.

"Don't worry about him, he's been spending too much time alone."

Sirius, seeing Pukchi raise his bow and arrow, quickly said...

"He received some crazy commands from my mother's portrait, and he would always talk to himself."

"What a load of nonsense! You damned idiots, it's a great honor for you that Mr. Green would even come to a place like this!"

Butler Pukchi didn't respond to Sirius's explanation. He glared angrily at Kreacher, a sharp arrow already pressed against Kreacher's head.

"The house is no longer clean. A dirty thing came in, all green, standing there brazenly and unscrupulously."

If my mistress knew, oh, how heartbroken she would be.

But a new boy has arrived here, and Kreacher doesn't know his name. What is he doing here? Kreacher doesn't know.

Kreacher lay on the coffin, covering Regulus's pale body with a blanket, and gave them a vicious look.

"Damn it—"

Butler Pukchi lunged at Kreacher, and they wrestled and rolled around, banging on the cupboards with a loud clanging sound.

A few seconds later, the fight ended with Pukchi's butler binding Kreacher's hands behind his back.

"How dare you show the slightest disrespect to Mr. Green again—"

Will straddled Kreacher, and an arrow grazed Kreacher's ear, pinning him to the ground. This time, even Kreacher was brought to his senses.

He screamed in terror, and bright red blood trickled down his ear.

"Young Master Regulus! Young Master Regulus!"

He cried for help, then suddenly looked up, seemingly finally coming to his senses. He began frantically crawling towards the corpse, then burst into a deafening wail.

Sirius couldn't bear to look and turned his head away.

Sheen also lowered his eyes.

"Mr. Kreacher."

Sheen said, and took out a locket.

Kreacher trembled uncontrollably upon seeing the locket. Sheen gently untied the ropes binding him and placed the locket in his hand.

"I know the secret of the cave, and I will immediately destroy that locket—I'm sorry to have taken it from this room—I will fulfill Mr. Regulus Black's long-cherished wish."

If you're willing to believe me, you can see that I've destroyed many such objects; it's been reported in the newspapers many times.

Kreacher reads newspapers; there were some copies of the Daily Prophet in the living room.

"You, you, you are...?"

Kreacher's eyesight is impaired.

Sheen silently took out a notebook with a large hole in it, and a crown, allowing Kreacher to sense the lingering evil aura emanating from them.

"Young Master Green! It's you!"

Only you have destroyed something like that. The idiots in the newspapers don't know what it is, but Kreacher does.

That was what young master Regulus wanted to destroy until the very end… Kreacher thought about it for so long, Kreacher knew about those things, Kreacher, Kreacher, Kreacher believed in you… and you even brought back young master Regulus…”

The tiny house-elf was crying uncontrollably.

"What are you talking about, Kreacher?"

Sirius couldn't sit still any longer, and he asked impatiently.

"Kreacher made a mistake; Kreacher failed to carry out Master Regulus's orders!"

Kreacher screamed hoarsely as he charged toward the poker that stood by the stove.

"Will, take control of it."

Sheen said immediately.

"My husband told you not to move!"

Will yelled and pounced on Kreacher, pinning him down and holding him firmly.

"This is not your fault, Mr. Kreacher. Very few wizards know how to destroy them."

Sheen said slowly.

"What are you talking about?"

Sirius went completely berserk.

"Kreacher is speaking."

Kreacher instinctively responded to Sirius, then spoke to the carpet,

"The young master is a despicable, ungrateful scoundrel who has broken his mother's heart—"

"My mother has no heart, Kreacher,"

Sirius said angrily

"She survived entirely on resentment."

Kreacher bowed again as he spoke.

"No matter what the young master says,"

He muttered indignantly,

"The young master is not even worthy of wiping his mother's shoes. My poor mistress, what would she say if she saw Kreacher serving the young master?"

How much the woman hated him! How disappointing he was—and now a murderer—"

"If you keep nagging, I'm really going to kill someone!"

Sirius has gone mad.

Kreacher shrank back toward Sheehan as if in fear.

"Now, Mr. Kreacher, can you tell us the story of Mr. Regulus?"

In return, I will return the pendant box.

Sheen said, seeing Kreacher bring tears to her eyes again.

The sky was dark, and the Broken Cauldron Bar was unusually quiet.

"Master Regulus, Master Regulus, Kreacher thought he would never see him again, but he's gone home, and Kreacher can never wake him up again..."

He thought his great deeds would be forgotten, but look, Kreacher remembers them, and now there's another gentleman, though I wonder if he's a Mudblood...

Kreacher sat up, curled up, tucked his wet face between his knees, and began to rock back and forth.

When he spoke, his voice was low and muffled, but it was quite clear in the quiet, echoing room.

(End of this chapter)