Chapter 120

This is a low tone old residential area, full of clumps of weeds and mottled wall ash.

But the disorderly lights showed that there were still many people living here, and the light and shadow scattered in the darkness before dawn looked a little depressed.

Until approaching, Maka found that most of the lights were street lights flashing bright and dark, and a small amount of light from the gap of the curtain.

Looking around, there are chimneys and TV antennas everywhere.

???? "Right ahead."

Black pointed ahead as they passed a small square with a small patch of weeds covered with a canopy.

All the houses here, big or small, have a dirty appearance. The windows of some houses are broken. They are dark and can't see anything at all.

Long lost bright paint peeled off from those gates, and a lot of garbage piled up on the front steps.

"You haven't been home for 12 years," Marca said.

But black shook his head and said, "it's longer than you think."

12 Grimandi street, an old house devastated by time. When Maka saw it, it was as broken as the surrounding houses.

Most of the windows were broken, and the thick gate was covered with vines, with no keyholes or mailbox cracks.

The silver carved door handle has been twisted and deformed. It looks like a small snake fixed on broken wood.

Looking up, you can also see that most of the corners are occupied by spiders in an attempt to catch some delicious flying insects.

The whole area near the root of the wall was wet, and the gray moss was colorful and greasy like black's collar.

ok In fact, whatever Marca looks at now will recall that deadly touch.

Black reached out his wand and knocked on the door. After hearing a few dull, metallic clicks from both sides, a hinge sound followed.

The gate broke free from the tangle of vines and creaked open.

"Nobody's been here for a long time. There must be some mess in it... Don't walk around," Black said. "Follow me."

Marca followed black into the dark hall. Suddenly, a sweet smell mixed with moisture came to her face - it was the smell of wood decay.

The floor creaked and broke the silence here.

Black waved his wand. With a soft hiss, the old-fashioned steam lights on all the walls lit up, cast a flickering and unstable light on the broken wallpaper around, and shone a worn long carpet.

Directly above the carpet, a tree shaped decorative lamp covered with spider webs was flashing, and an old, blackened portrait was hung on the wooden expansion and distortion wall.

To be honest, it's better not to look at this decadent appearance.

Without saying a word, black led Maka through a pair of long, moth covered curtains and around a huge umbrella frame that looked like giant legs.

Then they went up a carved wooden staircase with handrails.

On the wall on one side of the stairs, there is a shield shaped family crest.

The coat of arms is generally black. Between the two stars, the mountain shape is the main body, one sword is the basis, and the whole body is made of silver. On both sides, there are two Greyhound jumping up.

Under the imposing family coat of arms, a row of reduced head objects mounted on the wall as decoration are particularly eye-catching.

That's the head of the Black family's house elves. Whenever an elf is too old to carry a plate, he will chop off their heads as an ornament for his master's house.

For the house elf, it seems to be an honor.

"... I heard it was your family's idea first?" Marca looked at the row of things.

"Yes, my aunt eladora," Black said with a sneer, and did not want to talk any more. "Come this way."

Maka followed black all the way to the door of a room, but unexpectedly, a small figure suddenly appeared in front of the door and blocked their way.

"Look who clencher saw? The son of the son who is not the hostess has returned from Azkaban... Oh! My poor hostess, what would she say if she saw the house now? A fugitive has returned? She has been cursing that he is not his own son, but he has returned. They all say he is a murderer -"

This is an old house elf. Besides tying a string of dirty mice into a belt around his waist, he is almost naked.

The drooping skin made it look like it was wearing large clothes. Although it was as bald and hairless as other house elves, a large number of white eyebrows emerged from above its huge, bat like eyes.

Its eyes were bloodshot, moist and gray, and its flesh colored nose was as big as other elves, or more appropriately - like a dead frober caterpillar.

The elf seemed not to notice the existence of the two men - it just stood humbly hunched and bowed its head in front of the door.

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

"Clenche?" Black's eyes flashed a trace of surprise, but then turned into disgust. "Unexpectedly, everyone is dead, but you are still alive."

At this time, old clencher looked up at black slightly, but the next second he hung down again.

Then he bowed deeply, and his fat nose was almost on the ground.

Clencher said vaguely, "how can clencher die? If clencher dies, who else can continue to look after the hostess's house?"

"But it keeps getting dark. It's a dirty ghost place!" said Sirius.

"The master always likes his little jokes," clencher bowed again and continued to whisper. "The master is a dirty and ungrateful pig. He hurt his mother's heart --"

"My mother has no heart, clencher," cried Sirius suddenly. "She allows herself to live outside pure things."

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

"Whatever the master says," it purrs angrily, "the master is not worthy to wipe his mother's boots. Oh! My poor hostess, what will she say if she sees clencher continue to serve him? She hates the master so much. How disappointing he is -"

"I don't want to talk nonsense to you. Get out of there!" black shouted.

Clencher unconsciously took two steps aside.

Black snorted coldly and walked past him, but he still kept whispering something bad in his mouth.

As Marca and Blake were about to move on, clencher suddenly raised his voice a little - although it was still modest.

"Oh! Where did the kid come from... It was brought by the master, a dirty hairy boy. He wants to enter the family library... It's against the rules..."

"However, you haven't finished the task your young master left you." Maka looked at kliche and said calmly.

It was Marca's light words that made clencher suddenly raise his head. He stared at Marca's face and opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something.

"... come in quickly and don't talk nonsense to it. It won't listen." Black's voice came from the room.

Marca answered.

"I'll come back another day to deal with the pendant box. Remember to open the door for me," he whispered to kretcher, and then walked in quickly.

"Just these books - are they really helpful to Harry?"

In the library full of bookshelves, black put a thick pile of magic books on the wooden table, splashing a burst of dust.

The books were as dirty as the wooden table, and black was in no mood to pay attention to anything.

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

Although the number of books in Hogwarts's library is very few in the world, there are always some books that can only be found in the wizard family.

For example, these in front of Maka.

"Then put them away and get out of here! I hate this house, both before and now -"

……

Ron has become a celebrity at school recently, and people have paid more attention to him than Harry.

Ron was treated like this for the first time in his life, and he obviously liked the eye-catching experience.

Although he was still terrified by the events that happened that night, as soon as someone asked, he would excitedly tell others about the events of that night, adding many exaggerated details.

"... I fell asleep at that time, but I heard the sound of tearing things. I thought I was dreaming, you know. But another cool wind blew... I woke up immediately, and then I found that one side of the curtain beside the bed had been torn off... I turned over and saw him standing in front of me with my own eyes!"

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

After a while, when he finished, the second grade girls who had been listening to his creepy story talked to each other and dispersed.

"But why?" Ron suddenly turned to Harry. "Why did he run away?"

To be honest, Harry wondered about it, too.

Black went to the wrong bed. Why not kill Ron and keep looking for Harry?

Twelve years ago, black's behavior showed that he didn't care about killing innocent people. This time, he faced five unarmed boys, and four of them were still asleep.

"Is Marca's guess reasonable?" Harry suddenly thought.

But Ron shook his head.

"Let me see, he must know that if I wake everyone up, it will be very difficult for him to get out of the castle!" he guessed. "To go back through the hole in the portrait, he must kill the whole hospital! Maybe he may meet the teacher!"