A magical journey that begins in Azkaban

Kreacher looked up and saw a little wizard standing behind the poinsettia. Kreacher, with bloodshot eyes, quickly took a look at Rogge. The appropriate clothes and shiny leather shoes were low-key and luxurious.

"That's..." Kreacher noticed the family ring on Rogge's little finger and quickly recognized that the coat of arms on the ring belonged to the Travis family.

A complex emotion surged in its heart. It seemed that the treacherous son of the family did not just associate with some dirty things. Roger's visit undoubtedly brought an unusual light to this gloomy mansion.

"Hello, Master Travis." Kreacher immediately bowed respectfully, his forehead hitting the ground. It stood sideways and said humbly: "The young master is waiting for you in the living room."

"I thought you were going to call Sirius an annoying, ungrateful and dirty piece of shit." Rogge smiled and handed the poinsettia to Kreacher. He held his nose and glanced around, shaking his head secretly.

Black hated this old house, hated the memories of living here, hated the mother on the wall... and also Kreacher who served the family.

But in the end, did Kreacher do anything wrong? He looked at the shoe prints on Kreacher's face and couldn't help but shake his head. The elf is just the wizard's most loyal servant. Why should Sirius, who has essentially inherited the family, treat it like this?

It seems that Black has been locked up in Azkaban for so many years and nothing has changed. Back then, his attitude towards Peter Pettigrew was probably similar. He always thinks highly of himself, treats some people as clowns, and then gets stabbed in the back.

Rogge muttered in his heart: "It's all your fault." He followed Kreacher towards the living room and asked softly: "Is this the oldest Black family? Well, it's really eye-opening."

"What do you want to say?" Blake stared at the approaching black figure and secretly cursed: This little guy started to ridicule himself before he even came in.

"Nothing, just a little disappointed." Rogge smiled, and his eyes first turned to the two glass door cabinets next to the fireplace. Apparently, it had been rummaged through by Sirius, but nothing left by his brother had been found.

However, he had already seen the scattered things in the glass cabinet. Biting silver snuff bottles, multi-legged silverware, seals... and one of the goals of his trip: the box containing the Slytherin pendant.

He turned to Kreacher, smiled and asked him, "Do you know how to take care of a poinsettia?"

"Of course, Young Master Travis." Kreacher replied respectfully, "Let it receive about 6 hours of bright sunlight every day, but avoid direct sunlight and high temperatures. The soil should be kept moist, and avoid overwatering."

Kreacher explained in detail how to care for poinsettias, and the bouquet of Christmas gifts in his hand looked particularly dazzling in the dark home.

"Very good, Kreacher." Rogge nodded with satisfaction, and then looked at Sirius: "A very smart house elf, and he knows how to distinguish family crests. However, his ability to take care of the room seems to need to be improved."

"Our bubbles," Rogge said half-jokingly, "will never let a trace of dust appear in the room, let alone leave guests without a place to sit."

Sirius snorted indifferently, pointed to the cage in the corner and said, "I brought it back for you."

"Thank you, a very strong werewolf." Rogge kicked the cage, and the adult wizard imprisoned inside stared at him with bloodshot eyes.

He rushed forward, opened his mouth full of saliva, and roared fiercely, telling his anger.

"Blake, you should know." Rogge waved his wand and knocked the werewolf unconscious. "The experimental environment should be kept clean and tidy, and other magical factors must not be allowed to affect the accuracy of the experiment. To be honest, it is so dirty. The messy place really doesn’t meet my strict requirements for the experimental environment.”

"There are still nine hours until the full moon." He said and threw the pocket watch to Sirius. "Sirius, you'd better hurry up and clean up."

"I..." Sirius obviously had no interest in cleaning the room. He was about to retort, but found that Rogge had already turned around and left.

Sirius pulled out his wand and cursed: "What are you doing standing still? You useless thing!"

He took off his coat and yelled at Kreacher: "Aren't you always cleaning the room? Now, make this place spotless immediately!"

Before he finished speaking, Bubble appeared in front of Black with three house elves.

"Mr. Black." Bubbles said respectfully to Sirius, "Master asked us to help clean up."

"Roger?" Sirius looked dismissively, "Are you showing off Travis' wealth to me? I don't need you yet!"

As he spoke, he suddenly opened the curtains, and the foxes hiding in them rushed toward him like a tide.

These pests are similar in size to humans, covered with thick black hair, and have four arms and four legs. They flapped their wings and opened two rows of sharp teeth to pounce on Sirius.

Sirius panicked and used magic to defend himself, but Hu Meizi still found a flaw. They swarmed up and bit with their sharp fangs, causing Sirius to scream in pain.

Bubble looked at Kreacher next to him and seemed to be asking him, "Is this your master? Why doesn't he look very smart?"

"Fire is raging!" Sirius's wand spurted out blazing fire, instantly burning the curtains and the vixen to ashes.

The fire spread rapidly along the wall, and he had to quickly cast Clear Water Like a Spring. After this chaos, the living room became even more messy and filled with black smoke.

"Why don't you come over and clean up the useless things!" Sirius shouted at Kreacher. He looked at the Travis elves who had not left yet and motioned for them to hurry up.

After being bitten by hundreds of foxes, Blake's injuries were quite serious. His face, hands, and arms were covered with wounds of varying depths, and there were still needle-like fangs in some places.

The purple-black wound oozed stinky blood, and the surrounding skin slowly swelled. The venom injected by Hu Meizi continued to stimulate the nerves around the wound, causing waves of severe pain.

Sirius gritted his teeth and endured it, sweat dripping down his face. He slowly felt dizzy and physically weak. He endured the pain, quickened his pace, and ran towards St. Mungo's Hospital of Magic.

Looking at Sirius' disappearing back, Kreacher began to curse again: "The stupid young master used his crappy magic to destroy the house again. My poor mistress, how much she would hate him if she saw this scene."

"He also wanted to clean up the things passed down by the family as rubbish, prodigal sons, fugitives, scumbags..." Although Kreacher said this, he also found cleaning tools and cleaned the room according to Sirius's order.

Although he has a disdain for Sirius, he is the last male of the Black family. If Black doesn't give himself freedom for a day, he will have to stay here and do his duty.

Although Kreacher is very old and has no hair on his head, he works very neatly. Pao Pao, who came to help, was slightly inferior in comparison.

The aging Kreacher kept making insinuations and learned a lot about Travis from Bubble Mouth. When he heard that Rogge gave them a salary and asked them to buy decent clothes, he couldn't help but look envious in his eyes.

When the moon climbed above the horizon, the Black family's ancestral home was finally tidied up. Although the carpet was full of bug holes, the crystal chandelier on the ceiling was still bright. It illuminated Walburga's wrinkled face, and the mistress of the painting began to issue crazy and bizarre orders to Kreacher.

"What are you doing? Kreacher, who allowed you to polish the glass!" Walburga roared, but this time Kreacher did not obey the mistress's order.

Regardless of the old woman's insults, Paopao arranged the experimental equipment and then disappeared into the air. Loyal, obedient, and capable of action, this was Kreacher's first impression of the Travis family elf.