Chapter 199: We Came for the Funeral

Words : 1363 Updated : Oct 12th, 2025

Wade turned around and saw Sirius, and almost doubted if he had recognized the right person. He looked as though he had just emerged from Azkaban—unkempt, with a scruffy beard and long, tangled hair. His eyes resembled deep wells hidden in a shadowy valley, dark and devoid of light, making him look even more like a ghost. Behind him stood an old building. The intricately carved door was now dilapidated and covered with scratches. The walls were grimy and crumbling, with moss and vines creeping over the stones. The yard was overgrown with weeds, with only a narrow path barely cleared for passage. A garden gnome wearing a pointy hat peeked out from the bushes, and curiously observed the unfamiliar visitors. "Hey, Sirius," Lupin said in a deliberately light tone. "How are the kids doing?" "They're fine." Sirius replied emotionlessly. He nodded politely to the two of them, then carried the coffin through the front door. "Has he been like this recently?" Wade lowered his voice only after Sirius was out of sight. "Yes." Lupin sighed and said, "Let's hope he recovers after the funeral." The two walked up the broken stone steps. Behind them, the silly gnome suddenly floated into the air, spun around more than a dozen times, and then zoomed away with a "whoosh." Seeing Wade glance back, Lupin explained: "You have to spin gnomes dizzy and throw them out; that way, they can't find their way back to their burrows. It's the only way to get rid of them. These little creatures love destroying plant roots and always leave gardens in complete disarray." "I know. I've read about garden gnomes in books. But..." Wade glanced at Lupin, speechless, and asked, "Remus, what kind of person do you think I am? Were you worried I'd pity the gnomes?" Lupin froze for a moment, then chuckled helplessly. "Sorry, I guess my mind's not very clear lately." They crossed the threshold and went inside. The Black ancestral home bore an eerie resemblance to the Slytherin common room. The entire building resembled a gloomy cavern, with small, grimy windows covered in cobwebs, keeping sunlight completely out. As a result, the interior was dimly lit, and even during the day, the old-fashioned gas lamps on the walls remained perpetually lit. Wade was sure this was Lupin's doing since Sirius looked like he wanted to bury himself underground and probably didn't care about lighting at all. This house must have once been grand. The walls had once been adorned with exquisite wallpaper, the remnants of luxurious patterns lingered on the carpets, and the ornate chandeliers spiraled intricately, faintly gleaming with traces of golden light. At this moment, the wallpaper was peeling, the carpet was stained, and cobwebs hung from the chandelier. The entire house reeked of decay. Sirius carried the coffin upstairs, seemingly intending to temporarily place Regulus in his former bedroom. Michael and the others, who had been about to come downstairs after hearing the commotion, froze in shock when they saw the coffin. Their eyes widened, and they pressed themselves tightly against the walls, not daring to make a sound. Ginny, who was walking behind them, screamed the moment she saw the coffin. "Ah, sorry." Sirius seemed to realize only then that his actions might be inappropriate. He politely said, "Don't be afraid. He won't bite." However, just as he spoke, two long velvet curtains suddenly pulled apart as if yanked violently. Immediately afterward, a horrifying, blood-curdling scream echoed through the room— "Filth! Wastrel! Disgrace to the family! The wretched spawn I gave birth to! How dare you come back? Why don't you just die! Get out of my house, you half-blood! Werewolf! Mudblood! Trash! Get out of my house!!!" A life-sized portrait of an old woman with sallow and waxy skin and a black hat shrieked hoarsely and hurled insults. Simultaneously, every portrait in the entrance hall seemed to wake up, their earsplitting screams reverberating through the room. The young witches and wizards were so terrified by the noise that they clutched their ears, as though their souls might fly out of their bodies. Sirius, however, acted as if he couldn't hear a thing. He even managed a stiff smile and said to Ginny, "Miss Weasley, could you please step aside?" Ginny stood frozen, not reacting, until Ron reached out and pulled her aside. "Thank you." Sirius nodded, and then carried the coffin upstairs. Regulus's bedroom was on the fifth floor. Back in the entrance hall, Lupin struggled to pull the curtains shut and then cast a series of Stunning Spells on the other portraits. Only then did Harry and the others lower their hands and come downstairs. "Wade, you're finally here," said Michael with his face smudged with dirt. He raised a hand in greeting, but his eyes were lifeless. "You should see how much work we've done this morning!" Lupin sighed helplessly. "Like I said, this place is uninhabitable for the time being." The young witches and wizards showed regret on their faces, but after all the bold claims they had made earlier, they were too embarrassed to admit, You were right; let's stop working and go to your house instead. "I thought it would just take a few extra cleaning spells..." Michael muttered. "We're pretty good at those spells." "But this house is resisting our magic," Hermione said hesitantly, and shared her discovery. "It's like it doesn't want to be cleaned. Cleaning spells barely work—we've had to resort to manual cleaning methods." "Because there's a very troublesome house-elf living in this house," George added. "I've come to realize just how much trouble these creatures can cause when they don't cooperate." "Why doesn't Mr. Black simply get rid of him?" Percy asked in confusion. "A house-elf like that is more trouble than it's worth." "Sirius said... Regulus was quite fond of that one, called Kreacher," Harry said hesitantly. As they were talking, the subject of their conversation appeared. It was a very old house-elf with wrinkled, sagging skin and ears covered in white hair. He was emaciated, wearing a filthy rag tied around his waist. His pale eyes looked dim and lifeless. "Um... Wade, this is Kreacher," Harry said in a tone that suggested he wasn't sure whether or not he should introduce him. "Another little brat... upsetting the mistress," Kreacher muttered in a hoarse, low voice. "Disgusting scum, ruining the mistress's house like goblins..." "Shut up, Kreacher!" Harry shouted. Kreacher paused briefly, then bowed and said, "Yes, young master. Kreacher greets you." However, he immediately went back to muttering under his breath, "A brat brought back by the wastrel. They say he defeated the Dark Lord, but Kreacher doesn't see how he could be that capable..." Harry looked embarrassed and quickly waved his hands as he explained to the others, "He's really old and not in his right mind anymore—he just rambles. Sirius said to let him be, since he probably doesn't have much time left anyway..." "Hello, Kreacher," Wade said, crouching down to face the filthy house-elf. "Hasn't anyone told you why we're all here?" Kreacher acted as though he hadn't heard Wade or simply chose to ignore him. He continued muttering incoherently, "Kreacher has served the noble Black family all his life, but Kreacher doesn't want to serve the wastrel master... The mistress hated him so much, everything about him disappointed her..." Wade ignored Kreacher's ramblings and stated directly, "We are here for Regulus Black's funeral." -------------------------------- ????????Please consider supporting this translation project by becoming a P@treon member!!! Your support is greatly appreciated! Available on my P@treon page for just $4!! 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Chapter 199: We Came for the Funeral

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