The Return to Hogwarts

"You know, Sirius, house-elves would never like someone like me, and besides, I stopped it from inviting the Malfoys over, so it's probably not happy to see me—"

“That’s what I wanted to say—” Sirius’s face turned cold, and he shouted, “Kreacher!”

boom!

A sudden, loud bang echoed in the back garden, catching Ron off guard and causing him to choke on a pie. Seeing him choke and his eyes roll back in his head, Hermione rolled her eyes and slapped Ron hard on the back. Once Ron finally spat out what was in his throat, Hermione pursed her lips and turned her gaze to the little guy who had suddenly appeared beside Sirius. Upon seeing him, Hermione's brow furrowed.

The creature that appeared in the garden was a house-elf that looked quite old. Hermione noticed that the house-elf's tennis ball-sized eyes were misty, as if its eyesight had deteriorated, and the two tufts of white hair growing from its bat-sized ears further confirmed her guess.

When Hermione bowed to Sirius, she was sure she could tell it wasn't voluntary; her movements were incredibly slow, as if she were about to fall at any moment.

This lovely little elf was wearing nothing but a dirty rag around his body, and what was even more jarring was the potato Kreacher was holding. The potato was only peeled, but it was completely raw and covered with many wormholes.

There was a whole table of delicious food, but Sirius Black made this old, decrepit house-elf eat it.

Hermione's face turned pale, and her eyes burned with rage as she looked at Sirius.

“Kreacher was cleaning the kitchen, but he came immediately after hearing the young master’s summons,” Kreacher said slowly, bowing slightly.

"Is there anything you need to tell Kreacher, young master? Kreacher has dedicated his life to serving the noble Black family."

Sirius, who had been teased by Narcissa during their last meeting outside, was seething with anger, but when he saw the cold potato in Kreacher's hands that reached past his knees, he seemed rather helpless.

Ever since Amostella brought Regulus back from the island by the sea with him and Remus and held a funeral for him in the Forbidden Forest next to Hogwarts, the house-elf had been much more courteous to him than he remembered, but some fundamental things remained unchanged.

"I want to ask you, Kreacher—"

Sirius said in a cold and hard tone,

"You invited Narcissa Malfoy to your tent, was that your own decision? I don't recall giving that order!"

Kreacher blew his nose, his tennis ball-sized eyes filled with confusion. He remained hunched over, but tilted his head to look at Sirius.

"But Miss Narcissa is not an outsider. The lady loved Miss Narcissa and Miss Bella the most when she was alive!"

After a pause, Kreacher added quietly,

"The mistress doesn't like the young master, but for the sake of young master Regulus, Kreacher reluctantly serves him."

Harry and Hermione had both seen this very old house-elf once before, at Regulus's funeral. The house-elf was too preoccupied with mourning to speak with them.

But now it seems that there are really big differences between individual house-elves; Kreacher and Dobby are completely different things.

“You don’t have to force yourself at all, Kreacher—” Sirius said irritably.

There was no point in arguing with Kreacher, so after thinking for a moment, Sirius simply gave it an order not to have any contact with that family, and then sent it away.

"Wait a minute. Excuse me, is your name Kreacher?"

Just as Kreacher was about to teleport away, Hermione finally lost her temper. She stood up, grabbed two pies, hurriedly went around the table, and handed them to Kreacher with a friendly smile.

"Can I trade these two pancakes for the potatoes you have, Kreacher? Hmm, they look delicious!"

Everyone wore a big question mark on their face, not understanding what Hermione was trying to do.

"The Mudbloods are actually talking to Kreacher! The Mudbloods are trying to curry favor with Kreacher!"

Kreacher took several steps back as if he saw something dirty on Hermione's frozen smile.

At the dinner table, Harry and Ron suddenly frowned. Although they had felt some sympathy for the old elf who still had to serve people, all of that sympathy vanished after it said Hermione was a Mudblood.

"Don't say that word to Hermione! Apologize to Hermione right now, Kreacher!"

Sirius Black glared angrily at Kreacher, his expression fierce.

“Oh, it’s alright, Sirius—” Hermione quickly stopped him from getting angry. “Look, this elf is quite old, isn’t he? He’s done all the hard work this morning and all he got was a cold, rotten potato. He might be a little—I mean—”

“There’s no need to defend it, Hermione—” Sirius said, “It knows exactly what it’s saying!”

Kreacher had no choice but to obey Sirius's direct orders. He bowed and apologized to Hermione, but his reluctance was still evident, and he muttered something under his breath.

"You remember what happened to you last time you used the word 'Mudblood,' Kreacher?"

Seeing Kreacher's grumbling, Sirius rolled his eyes and said, "Want me to do it for you too?"

Chapter 465 Admission

2023-09-07

Kreacher froze, his expression somewhat blank!

"What's going on, Sirius?"

Remus asked with slight surprise. He knew how difficult it was to deal with the Black family's ancestral house-elf. Before he helped bring Regulus back from that horrible hole, it had never given him a kind look. After that incident, it finally stopped swearing at him, but that was about it.

"It's Amosta—"

Sirius glanced sideways at Kreacher, pursing his lips.

"When Kreacher first met Amostra, he also called her 'filthy, lowly mud-blood' like my mother's portrait. Haha, you should know that Amostra wouldn't tolerate her behavior. However, Kreacher is very close to Amostra now, isn't he?"

"That powerful wizard helped Kreacher find Master Regulus, and the young master and his friends only benefited from it."

Kreacher muttered something under his breath, but Sirius just smiled coldly.

Perhaps Sirius's words reminded Kreacher that the gentleman he respected most was also a 'Mudblood', so before Kreacher left and disappeared, he bowed to Hermione and apologized in a voice only he could hear, but he did not take the pie from Hermione's hand.

“What did Professor Blaine do to Kreacher?” Hermione asked, frowning.

"Oh, you wouldn't want to know, Hermione—"

Sirius laughed as he spoke, but then he noticed Hermione's expression wasn't too good, so he raised an eyebrow and asked,

"what's wrong?"

“You shouldn’t have been so rough with it, Sirius, and,” Hermione said disapprovingly, “it’s old enough to retire, you should let it rest!”

Sirius laughed.

“You’re killing it, Hermione. House-elves don’t care about rest or retirement. They serve their wizarding families for life. Believe me, Hermione, if I tell Kreacher to set it free right now, the shock might just kill it!”

“I used to know a house-elf named Dobby—” Harry said suddenly. “He used to serve the Malfoy family, but he couldn’t stand them and desperately wanted to break away from them. In the end, he gained his freedom.”

"Yeah!"

Sirius said with slight surprise,

“Maybe every race has its freaks. But Harry, that house-elf named Dobby is an exception. If you know them well enough, you’ll know I’m not lying.”

"But--"

Hermione's brow remained furrowed, her tone carrying a strong sense of accusation.

"Isn't this absurd? This whole table of delicious food came from Kreacher, and it's eating a rotten potato. Unless you order it to stay away from our food, or you're not paying it enough!"

"Salary?"

Now, Sirius wasn't the only one laughing at the table; almost the entire Weasley family chuckled. Sirius didn't point out Hermione's mistake, but simply said...

“When you get back to Hogwarts, you can look up information about house-elves in the library, and then you'll know all about Kreacher and his species, Hermione—”

Bill, Charlie, and Percy didn't Apparate to their campsite until noon. Ron eagerly asked Charlie if his bet on Bagman was wise, and after receiving Charlie's affirmation, Ron's face lit up with joy, seemingly already imagining the wonderful life he would live to squander after receiving hundreds of gold coins.

As the afternoon passed, a feeling of excitement spread across the camp like a tangible cloud.

As dusk fell, even the still summer air seemed to tremble with anticipation. When night enveloped the thousands of eagerly waiting wizards like a curtain, the last trace of pretense vanished—the Ministry of Magic seemed to succumb to the inevitable trend, no longer resisting the people, allowing the obvious signs of magical use to emerge everywhere.

Mr. Weasley could only sigh helplessly, foreseeing at least two weeks of endless overtime work after the World Cup.

The adults were still chatting inside the tent, but Harry and his friends couldn't contain their excitement and joined the restless crowd outside.

Every few steps, a phantom vendor would descend from the sky, carrying a tray and pushing a cart filled with strange and wonderful trinkets. There were glowing rose-scented badges—green for Ireland, red for Bulgaria—that could also shout out the team members' names in a shrill voice.

There are tall green hats adorned with clover dancing in the wind; Bulgarian sashes with lions that actually roar; national flags of both countries that play their respective national anthems when waved; miniature models of real flying crossbow bolts; and collectible statues of famous team members that can walk around in your palm with a smug air.

Harry saw many of his classmates from Hogwarts in the bustling crowd. Oliver Wood told Harry that he had been accepted as a substitute player for the Pudmille United team.

Harry also saw Cho Chang from Ravenclaw. She was a very beautiful Asian girl. She spotted Harry as he came out of the Wood family's tent and waved and smiled at him. But before Harry could react, Cho Chang was pushed out of sight by the surging crowd.

Harry looked around dejectedly, but couldn't find that beautiful figure until a vendor pushed his cart past him, drawing his attention back.

"Look at these--"

Harry walked up to the car, which was piled high with many things that looked like binoculars, but were covered with all sorts of strange knobs and dials.

“A panoramic telescope,” the wizard vendor enthusiastically touted, “you can replay the footage in slow motion, and if needed, it can quickly flash an analysis of the match. Deal, ten Galleons apiece.”

"Oh, I wish I hadn't bought this."

Ron glanced at his dancing clover hat and then longingly looked at the panoramic telescope.

"Buy three."

Harry spoke to the wizard without hesitation.

"No—don't bother," Ron said, his face flushed.

“If we make money on our investment with Ludo Bagman, you can pay me back,” Harry said, shoving Ron’s binoculars into his arms.

"That's reasonable enough."

Ron grinned, fiddling with the telescope, his eyes gleaming with eagerness, as if he could already see the moment he would reap a large sum of gold from Ludo.

"Heh, thank you, Harry."

Hermione had been feeling down about Kreacher for a while, but now she finally shook off her gloom and smiled as she accepted Harry's gift.