A Certain Hogwarts Magician Professor

a few days ago.

12 Grimmauld Place, Black House.

Sirius was lounging on the sofa, seemingly doing nothing, his black curly hair loosely scattered.

Compared with more than a month ago, his condition is much better, with a little more flesh on his face, and finally he no longer looks like a skeleton just dug out of the grave, but a normal, thin, normal person.

His feet were on an elegant and simple coffee table. Every once in a while, Sirius would glance at the palm-sized piece of paper. Except for some simple lines, it was densely packed with small black dots. Only a few The name written in golden ink moved occasionally.

This state continued until noon, when the house-elf Kreacher appeared dragging his body, Sirius's eyes rolled.

Kreacher was holding a dirty rag in his hand. It was hard to tell which was cleaner, the rag or the rag he was wearing. Maybe the rag was his tattered clothes?

Sirius thought indifferently, at this time Kreacher slowly and step by step moved to his side, Sirius stared at him out of the corner of the eye, watched him jump on the coffee table, and muttered with a rag: Where did you learn the bad habit, just put your feet on it, the hostess usually likes to drink tea here, and she has entertained many equally noble guests..."

"Kreacher, your feet are dirtier than my shoes!" Sirius yelled angrily.

"... how many precious memories it carries, if the hostess finds out, I don't know how sad..."

Sirius' eyebrows twitched wildly, and the elegance between his brows disappeared. He jumped up and carried the house-elf's neck behind the back of the cloth, which was called the back collar, and was about to throw him out.

Kreacher didn't resist, and was still chattering: "It's nothing compared to his brother, really taking responsibility—"

"Are you talking about Regulus?" Sirius paused and said, "He's an idiot. I always thought he was smart enough to know how to protect himself... As a result, he ran and joined the Death Eaters!"

"Master Regulus is not an idiot!" Kreacher struggled fiercely, his body swaying, looking like some clockwork toy, "He is ten thousand times better than you, he is I joined the Death Eaters in your place..."

"What did you say?" Sirius stared at him and lifted Kreacher up to his line of sight. "Speak clearly—"

But Kreacher struggled, snot and tears, and Sirius threw him on the sofa in disgust.

"I tell you, Kreacher! He's a big admirer of Voldemort, always has been. Any idea why everyone in the family likes him more? Because he's lived up to the noble Blake they wanted..."

"I also wrote him a letter, telling him to stay away from Voldemort and hide, but what happened, he joined the Death Eaters as soon as he graduated, my parents must be very happy, and finally washed away my stain, they can Tell the outside world that there is a brave little hero in the family, isn't it?"

Kreacher lay on the ground, sobbing in a low voice, spewing out a series of dirty words, "... shameless, making Muggle friends... dirty, cowardly, smelly..."

Sirius said angrily: "Stinky? Then I'll let you try the Muggle method. To be honest, I've wanted to do it for a long time."

He carried Kreacher to the bathroom on the second floor, threw him into the bathtub, turned on the tap with a small snake pattern, "It's so dirty, I've been in Azkaban for twelve years and I haven't been like you. Outrageous!"

Kreacher was pressed by Sirius and washed from head to toe. He also used his wand to create a brush and kept scrubbing, even cleaning the dirt from the wrinkles of Kreacher's bald scalp. He said triumphantly: " You should be satisfied now, right? My master will serve you..."

A minute later, he began to regret it. The water in the bathtub was like a dozen bottles of ink had been poured into it, and there was also a stench. "Ouch~" He couldn't help but feel sick to his stomach, and raised Kreacher's hand in disbelief: "You're cooking for me with this stuff these days?"

Sirius opened the stopper of the bathtub and let the water flow for half an hour—

Kreacher sat cleanly on the sofa, his skin was pink and tender, and even the fur in his bat-like ears was as white and fluffy as cotton wool. He looked uncomfortable, staring at his toes.

Sirius came out of the bathroom, and he took a bath for himself, or else there was a strange smell on his body.

He watched with satisfaction the taciturn Kreacher, lying comfortably on the couch reading the comics, given to him by the guy named "Felix Heap" to pass the time, with a lot of Along with Easter chocolate eggs, he picked the ugliest one for Kreacher.

The afternoon was pleasant enough, and even the air was much fresher. Staying until the afternoon, he took the time to walk out of Black's old house and came to an activity room in the Grimmauld Square community.

"Yo, young man, here again today?" said a thin old man.

"Yeah," Sirius said casually, setting up some pieces, "I go first?"

"Then you should choose white," said the old man.

"Does it matter?" Sirius was holding a black knight in his hand, and he muttered, "If only this piece could move."

The old man laughed cheerfully, "You're so funny...but no!"

The two played two games of chess, both of which ended in Sirius' defeat. In the third game, he kept scratching his chin and thought hard: "I don't remember it being so difficult, when Remus and I played, we could reach six. Seventy steps..."

An old woman with a cloth pocket walked into the activity room, looked left and right, came over and grabbed the old man's ears, "My son and daughter-in-law are back, are you still playing chess here?"

"Let me finish this game, finish this game—" the old man said in a stern voice.

So the old woman sat next to them and watched them play chess. The old man frowned. At this moment, it had reached a critical stage, and the two were inextricably killed. The old woman watched with cold eyes and suddenly said, "Old man, move your queen. "

"Yes." In Sirius' stunned expression, the old man used his white queen to eat Sirius' black knight.

"It's not fair!" said Sirius. "You two have one against me!"

The old woman pouted, "You can ignore him, he is still taught by me." However, she stopped talking, but the situation was irreversible, and Sirius watched as he was checkmate.

The old man broke up the chessboard, "This one doesn't count, we'll play it later." He took the old woman and left.

"My son didn't quarrel with the house opposite, did he?"

"No, I also gave you a gift. How do you say it? Change the evil and return to the righteousness... In the past six months, they haven't played the sound in the middle of the night. If you don't believe it, I still listened to a young man's suggestion and handed a card, Just like the young man just now, he has black hair..."

At the same time, in a gloomy and dilapidated hotel.

A sharp voice whispered, his voice as cold as the wind: "Go, Barty, tell Peter...bring me Harry Potter and I'll live."

"Yes, my master! I will give my life for you!" said Barty Crouch Jr., with blond hair frantically.

"No, my dear Barty," said the voice behind the chair, "you have to remember that this is just a dangerous attempt—you have to protect yourself first and foremost under Dumbledore's eyes."

Thanks to the leader for not seeing the moonlight dye the sky again for the reward, thanks to the boss for loving this book, and thanks to all the readers who have always supported me!

PS1: This chapter was originally intended to be written during the monthly ticket event, but the author was handicapped, so he didn’t catch up, uh…

PS2: The third Horcrux is coming