[HP] Leader's Exclusive Rose

After another conversation with Cedric that night, Rosalind forced herself to go to bed quickly - she wanted to go back early the next morning, but she saw Molly taking Hermione and Ginny cleaning up in the living room on the second floor Hu Meizi, after hesitating for a while, she decided to help before leaving.

It was a long, high-ceilinged room on the second floor, with dirty tapestries on olive-green walls.Every time someone put a foot on the carpet, a little cloud of dust was raised, and the long, chartreuse velvet curtains buzzed as though they were filled with unseen bees.Molly, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, and George were standing in front of the curtains, each with a piece of cloth wrapped around their face, covering their nose and mouth, looking particularly comical.Each of them held a large bottle of black liquid with a spout at the mouth.

"Block your face and get a spray bottle," Molly said as soon as she saw Harry and Ron, pointing to two bottles of black liquid on a table with long legs. Never seen such an infestation of vermin—what's that house-elf been doing for ten years—"

Hermione's face was half-hidden by a tea towel, but Rosalind could clearly see her throwing a disapproving glance at Molly - she was still thinking about her house-elves: "Kreacher is getting old , he probably couldn't—"

"You'll be amazed at what Kreacher can do if he wants to, Hermione," said Sirius, who had just walked into the room carrying what looked like a dead rat in a blood-stained sack. . "I was feeding Buckbeak just now," he explained, seeing the questioning look on Harry's face, "and I shut him up in my mother's bedroom. Anyway... this desk..."

He dropped the bag of dead rats on an armchair and leaned over the locked cabinet, which Harry noticed for the first time shaking slightly.

"Yeah, Molly, I'm pretty sure it's a Boggart," said Sirius, peering through the keyhole, "but maybe we'd better let Mad-Eye transform it before putting it in Come out—he knew my mother, probably a much better fellow."

"You're right, Sirius." Molly's tone was flat.

Both spoke carefully and politely, and Rosalind knew that neither of them had forgotten the quarrel of the previous night.

Downstairs there was the tinkling of the doorbell, followed by the shrieking wail that had been triggered when Tonks knocked over the umbrella stand last night.

"How many times have I told them not to ring the bell!" said Sirius angrily, leaving the room hastily.They heard him rushing down the stairs, and Mrs. Black's screams echoed through the house again: "Indecent bastard, dirty bastard, scum of the family, filthy bastard . . . "

"Please close the door, Rosa," said Mrs. Weasley.

After she finished speaking, she bent down and looked at the page about killing foxes in "Gideroy Lockhart teaches you how to get rid of household pests" spread out on the sofa.

"Listen, all of you, you must be very careful. The teeth of foxes are poisonous. They will poison you if you bite them. I have a bottle of antidote here, but I hope no one needs it."

She straightened up, gesticulating in front of the curtains, and beckoned them all to pass.

"As soon as I gave the password, I started spraying," she said. "I thought they would fly out and attack us, but the spray said that just one full spray will paralyze them. When they can't move, Just throw them in this bucket."

She stepped carefully out of everyone's spray range, holding up her own spray: "Ready—spray!"

Just a few seconds after Rosalind sprayed it, an adult fox flew out from the folds of the curtain. Its shiny beetle-like wings buzzed and fluttered, and its tiny needle-like teeth were exposed. Covered with thick black hair, four small fists clenched tightly in anger.It was sprayed with the fox worm extinguisher.It froze in mid-air, and then fell on the carpet below, which was full of insect holes, with a surprisingly loud bang.The girl frowned and picked it up and threw it into the bucket.

Fred and George secretly hid several foxes in their pockets—they wanted to experiment with its venom and develop quick-acting skipping sugar.

It took almost a whole morning to eliminate the foxes in the curtains.It wasn't until after noon that Mrs. Weasley took off her protective scarf, sat down on a sunken armchair, and then jumped up with a yell of disgust—she was sitting in the bag Dead rats are on.The curtains no longer hummed, they hung limp and damp from too much spray.Below them, unconscious foxes lay densely packed in buckets, with their black eggs in a bowl next to them. Crookshanks sniffed them, and Fred and George watched them eagerly. .

"Let's deal with those after lunch, I suppose." She pointed to the dusty glass-doored cabinets on either side of the mantel, filled with all sorts of oddities: a batch of rusty A dagger, an animal's paw, a coiled snake's skin, and a large pile of dull black silver boxes, engraved with words that Harry couldn't understand, and the most annoying thing was a decorative crystal. A large opal was embedded in the stopper, and the bottle was filled with unknown contents.

Mundungus came back with a lot of crucibles, which made Li Li furious.

Afterwards her voice was almost drowned in the shrill cries of the portraits in the hall.

George tried to close the door to shut out the sound, but before he could do so, a house-elf sidled in.

Except for a dirty rag around his waist, like a loincloth that men in tropical countries use to cover their bodies, he is almost naked.He looked very old, there seemed to be many times more skin than his body actually needed, and although his head was bald like all house-elves, a large growth grew out of his large bat-like ears. Pile of white hair.His eyes were bloodshot and watery and gray, and his fleshy nose was as large as a pig's.

The elf didn't notice them at all—as if he couldn't see them, and hunched over and shuffled slowly, step by step, across the room with a hoarse, low voice like a bullfrog's. murmured softly.

"...smells like gutters and criminals. She's no better, nasty old loser, leading her young wretches to ruin my mistress's house. Oh, my poor mistress, if she Now, what would she say to old Kreacher if she knew what kind of scum they put into her house. Oh, what a disgrace, Mudbloods, werewolves, liars and thieves, poor old Kreacher, What can he do..."

"Hello, Kreacher," said Fred loudly, closing the door behind him hard.

The house-elf froze instantly, no longer muttering words, but a very obvious but suspicious look of surprise.

"Kreacher didn't see the young master just now," he said, turning and bowing to Fred.With his face still turned to the carpet, he said again in a voice quite audible: "It's the old bastard's nasty little brat."

"Excuse me?" said George, "I didn't catch that last sentence."

"Kreacher didn't say anything," the elf bowed to George again, and said in a soft but clear voice, "these are his twin brothers, a pair of queer little wild pups."

"You did it on purpose?" A trace of impatience flashed across Rosalind's face, and her dark brown eyes were bloodshot from not resting well: "Does Sirius know what you said?"

The elf shuddered: "Oh - Kreacher didn't disrespect the little masters." But then he looked at them all with a malicious look, obviously believing that they couldn't hear him, because he went on: "...and that Mudblood, standing there carelessly and unscrupulously, if my mistress knew, oh, how she would cry? And this tyrannical black-haired girl, and this new boy Well, Kreacher doesn't know their names. What are they doing here? Kreacher doesn't know..."

"Kreacher, this is Harry," said Hermione timidly, "Harry Potter."

Kreacher's pale eyes suddenly widened, and his babble was faster and more angry than before.

"That Mudblood talks to Kreacher like she's my friend, and if Kreacher's mistress sees him with someone like that, oh, what would she say—"

"Don't call her a Mudblood!" said Ron and Ginny at the same time, very angrily.Rosalind's eyebrows furrowed even tighter, she really didn't want to stay here any longer.

"It's all right," whispered Hermione, "he's out of his mind and doesn't know he's talking—"

"Don't kid yourself, Hermione, he knows exactly what he's talking about," said Fred, glaring at Kreacher in disgust.

Kreacher was still muttering words, looking at Harry.

"Is it real? Really Harry Potter? Kreacher saw the scar, it must be real, the boy who stopped the Dark Lord, Kreacher doesn't know how he did it—"

"We all know that, Kreacher," said Fred, folding his arms.

"What do you want?" George asked.

Kreacher's large eyes shot at George, who muttered evasively that he was just cleaning.

"That sounds like it's true," said a voice behind Harry, as Sirius returned, glaring at the elf from the doorway.The voices in the hall died down, and perhaps Mrs. Weasley and Mundungus had diverted their quarrel into the kitchen.Kreacher bowed deeply as soon as he saw Sirius, his body was ridiculously low, and his big pig-like nose was crushed to the ground.

He explained a few impatient words to Kreacher and let it go, and then he led several children to look at his family tree—it was the first time Rosalind heard him tell his past experiences, and There was a brother he never mentioned: Regulus Black.

Without staying for lunch, Rosalind returned to Shen's house. Her parents stayed there temporarily to deal with some affairs, but they couldn't stay for too long—the Ministry of Magic matters were enough for them to worry about.

The day before Harry's trial was getting closer, and Voldemort didn't make any big moves, but no one dared to relax.

Rosalind did another divination with the crystal ball—she hadn't used it since Cedric's near escape, but the house-elf named Kreacher always gave her a bad feeling:

Betrayed, escaped, died.