Kritcher's Conspiracy

Hermione's face turned extremely ugly. She never expected that she would be treated this way for speaking up for Kritcher.

This was nothing short of a blow to the inexperienced young saint.

If the other party didn't appreciate it, that would be one thing, but Kritcher not only didn't appreciate it, but also launched an unparalleled barrage of venomous words at her, which was a bit chilling.

"But I clearly wanted to help you..."

The little witch's tears welled up in her eyes as she softly defended herself.

"Kritcher would like to quote a line from the young master —a line from young master Sirius."

Before Sirius could say anything, Kritcher continued, "Kritcher advises you not to meddle in other people's business. The person you need to mind is yourself."

"He's right," Ron mouthed to Harry.

If Draco, a Slytherin, had said that, Ron's curse would have been cast long ago.

However, it was Black family home's House Elf who made this statement. Even in an enlightened Pure-blood family like Ron's, they did not agree with Hermione's views on liberating House Elf.

To put it another way, they're meddling a bit too much.

God knows how much Mrs. Weasley wanted a House Elf to help with the housework; taking care of so many children was just too tiring.

If Mrs. Weasley had a House Elf to help with the housework, things would be much easier.

Veratia sighed and pulled the weeping Hermione into her arms.

"You can't force others to accept your ideas, Hermione," she said softly. "What you understand as freedom is nothing short of poison to House Elf. In school, we not only need to learn Charms, but also to relinquish our desire to help others and respect their fates."

Hermione nodded hesitantly. Veratia's words made some sense, and Hermione was willing to listen to them.

"Let's eat something," Veratia said, ruffling her messy hair. "You've been busy all day and haven't eaten yet. How about we try Kritcher's cooking? Maybe after you try it, you'll understand why so many wizarding families want to adopt a House Elf."

"It has to be admitted that the chicken drumsticks are delicious." Ron said happily, holding two drumsticks in both hands. "I never thought I could have such delicious chicken drumsticks."

"All you ever do is eat, Ron," Hermione said indignantly, but she didn't take it out on Ron.

It should be said that Kritcher's skills are quite good; he is one of the best among those who House Elf at home.

Even Veratia, who is usually quite picky about food, ate more than usual.

Kritcher was still wiping something with his head down, and no one noticed the glint of satisfaction in his eyes.

After dinner, Lupin and Sirius went outside to tidy up the yard, and Ron followed along to join in the fun.

Hermione was a little reluctant to face Kritcher, so she followed Ron out of Black family home.

Seeing that everyone had left, Cassandra smirked and looked at Veratia.

"I never knew you had such a big appetite, Grindelwald." She spread her hands in a gesture of helplessness. "I really hope Potter can afford to support you."

"I warned you before, Cassandra," Veratia said, looking at Cassandra's flat chest with a half-smile, "Eat more food, so you can get enough nutrition to—grow up."

"Oh, so it seems your meal wasn't a complete waste," Cassandra retorted. "Looks like Potter prefers someone a little chubby, doesn't he, Potter?"

Harry's attention was completely elsewhere; a sudden throbbing pain shot through his head.

God knows how long it's been since he had a headache. Ever since that Notebook was destroyed, his head hasn't hurt. He's even forgotten what that kind of pain feels like.

Veratia didn't refute Cassandra with words, but simply gave her a mysterious smile, and then, under the other's puzzled gaze, reached behind her and pulled her shirt back—

The shirt was pulled back, perfectly showcasing Veratia's curves.

That tiny waist, there's only one.

As the saying goes, "King Chu loved slender waists, and many starved to death in the palace." Princess Sisi loved slender waists. Although it didn't necessarily cause everyone in the palace to starve, people around her did admire such slender waists and considered them beautiful.

As her personal maid, Veratia naturally also had a slim waist.

"What a distorted aesthetic."

Cassandra said disdainfully, but her eyes betrayed an undisguised envy.

Her mouth is always hard.

"How did you train like that?" Pabbie floated over with envy, even reaching out to hug Veratia's waist.

They were almost closed up, Pabbie was extremely envious.

"Forget about it, Sweeting," Cassandra said with utter disdain. "Look at yourself, you're the fattest one—"

Pabbie did not refute Cassandra's words, but simply sat down in the chair and put her chest on the table.

As the saying goes, facts speak louder than words. Cassandra's face suddenly turned pale. She looked at Pabbie in shock, then mechanically turned her head to look out the window.

"Ah, it's lost its color," Pabbie muttered.

"Alright, stop it, you two." Harry began using his large, visible hand to maintain his balance. "You two are really something, ganging up on Cassandra— "

"Oh, oh, oh, Harry's feeling sorry for her." Pabbie chuckled, hands behind her back, bending down to look up at Harry. "You're feeling sorry for Cassandra, aren't you? You're feeling sorry for Cassandra, aren't you? I knew you liked her—"

These words stunned Veratia.

No, which side are you on?

No wonder Cassandra called her a donkey; I should have done it myself...

"No, I just have a bit of a headache."

Harry changed the subject, saying that he dared not go into too much detail about this matter, what if Veratia had a wand and decided to kill him?

As he said this, Harry reached out and touched the scar on his forehead.

"Headache?"

Veratia straightened up and asked warily, "Is it over there, near the scar?"

"Yes," Harry nodded in reply, "I've been feeling a throbbing pain there, starting from when we were eating just now. I have this Grim feeling..."

Grim premonition?

Cassandra turned around, looked at Harry suspiciously, and then at Veratia.

"Could it be Tom Riddle?" Veratia asked, frowning. "You should know, Harry, that whenever your scar hurts, it means Riddle is nearby... Think about it, from when you met Quirrell in your first year, to that diary in your second year... anything related to him will cause your scar to hurt..."

At this point, Veratia felt as if she had grasped something, only to let it slip away.

"That's right," Pabbie nodded and said, "Let's think about what exactly is causing his scar pain."

"Let's start with the process of elimination." Veratia stood up and paced back and forth a few steps. "First, let's eliminate those who have been at Hogwarts all along, such as Professor Lupin and Mr. Black —you've been in contact with both of them, and getting along with them hasn't given you any headaches, so they are absolutely safe."

"And then there's Hermione and Ron," Veratia continued, eliminating other possibilities. "They're even less likely to be Riddle's hosts... and Cassandra and Pabbie are also out of the question..."

"And you," Cassandra said casually, "Think about it, Grindelwald —Ever since you came to Black family home, Harry's head has been throbbing..."

It would have been better if Cassandra hadn't said those words; after hearing them, Veratia suddenly smiled.

"Is that so?"

She countered with a question, walked over to Harry, and bent down to give Harry a gentle kiss on the forehead.

"Can you feel it, Harry?" she asked softly.

The beautiful girl's cascading hair wafted down, its fragrance filling the air. Harry quickly crossed his legs and denied it repeatedly, "No, no—"

"Look, he's not reacting." Veratia gave a defiant smile.

Cassandra narrowed her eyes and retorted, "This isn't the time for you two to flirt. You should know that Potter's nemesis is in this house..."

"As I said," Veratia looked the dining room up and down and said to Cassandra, "There are only two suspects: this Kitchen and Kritcher —think about it, Harry didn't feel a headache at the door or in Mr. Black's bedroom, so why does he feel it as soon as he comes into the Kitchen?"

Cassandra drew her wand from her bosom and pointed it in mid-air.

"Revelio (The Revealing Charm)!"

The spherical magic spread rapidly in all directions, reaching every corner of the room.

"Did you find anything?" Pabbie asked with concern.

"There's a red figure," Cassandra said, pointing behind Veratia. "It's about the size of a House Elf, holding a meat cleaver, and it's trying to stab Grindelwald."

As soon as he finished speaking, a clear "clang" sounded from the clash of metal echoed in the room.

"It seems my Protego is still in time," Veratia smiled at Cassandra. "But this poor House Elf seems to be under Imperius Curse."

"Don't kill him!" Harry said quickly. "Leave him alive; we need to know what happened."

Veratia beckoned with her finger, and the aged Kritcher floated up from behind her.

He was also carrying a gleaming meat cleaver in his hand, which was clearly very sharp.

"Kritcher... needs to carry out... the young master's orders!"

Kritcher growled.

"Young master's orders?"

The three people and the ghost exchanged glances and asked together, "Which young master young master you talking about?"

"Kritcher's young master is... there's only one..." Kritcher's eyes were bloodshot as he roared, "That's the esteemed young master Regulus Black!"

Regulus?

"Isn't Regulus dead?" Harry asked, frowning. "I heard from Phineas the other day that the Black family is now down to just the Godfather."

However, Kritcher struggled to say, "Young Master Regulus is alive! He ordered Kritcher to Purification the Black family home at all costs—"

Just then, Sirius and Lupin heard the sounds from inside and rushed back from outside.

"Regulus?" Sirius rushed forward, grabbed Kritcher by the collar of his sheet, and roared, "You mean Regulus is still alive?! Where is he?!"

"Kritcher can't say!" Kritcher wore a blissful smile, as if facing death. "To die for the last heir of the Black family is Kritcher's greatest honor—"

Upon hearing this, Sirius's face turned as black as the bottom of a pot.

No, Kritcher?

What the hell do you mean?

I'm still alive and well! I'm the last descendant of the Black family —even though I've been expelled from the Black family home, bloodlines don't lie!

But Kritcher was clearly not in good condition; he looked like he had been put under Imperius Curse.

"Well then," Harry said after a moment's thought, "I'll go to the school and ask Professor Snape for some Truth Serum..."

"You still want to borrow?" Sirius said viciously, "We're doing him a favor by using Snivellus's Truth Serum..."

"Godfather," Harry coughed awkwardly twice, "We've already assured Dumbledore that we won't continue to oppose Professor Snape."

"Alright—" Sirius drawled, "But I still have reservations. We don't need to borrow from Snivellus..."

"I believe Professor Snape would be willing to help, and so would Professor Dumbledore," Harry said to Sirius, his wicked plan officially taking shape.

Christmas is a time for the Headmaster and Professor Snape to work overtime together.

Don't think you can relax at school. Voldemort has moved to Grimmauld Place, Number 12, and you guys are still eating and sleeping well? That's too much!

"We'll keep an eye on Kritcher here," Veratia said to Harry. "Don't worry, we won't hurt him—besides, he's just a House Elf and poses no threat to us."

"I still advise you not to let your guard down," Harry cautioned. "Kritcher has been living in this Black family home for a long time. We don't know when he was controlled by Voldemort, but we are certain that he has had plenty of time to turn this mansion into a trap."

As soon as he finished speaking, the entire room suddenly went dark, as if the sun had suddenly set.

"I never expected you to have such a knack for jinxing things," Cassandra said casually, as if all of this had nothing to do with her.

"Lumos!"

Harry pulled out his wand and lit up the entire room.

He flung out several balls of Gubraithian Fire, which hovered around the room as lighting.

As a high-level flame that burns forever and requires no fuel, the Gubraithian Fire is the most suitable flame for lighting purposes.

It was at this moment that Kritcher's figure suddenly disappeared from Sirius's hands.

"Watch out!" Sirius and Lupin drew their wands together, ready for battle!

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(End of this chapter)