White Left

The drawing room had a large window overlooking the street in front of the house, a big fireplace flanked by two ornate glass cabinets, and one wall covered by a tapestry of the Black family tree—though now there were Doxies all over the curtains.

"Why hasn't Mister Handy cleared them out?" Hermione asked, seeing the state of the room and wondering why her product had not worked.

"Er... I don't really like the smell of Doxy-killing spray, so I didn't let Mister Handy use it," Sirius Black replied a little evasively. "Also, you'd better not open the writing desk. Molly and Tonks helped me clear out that Boggart once each, but after a while it just came back on its own. Leave it be."

With Mister Handy taking care of him, Sirius Black was even less inclined to pay attention to it; in this old house, the only one it could talk to was Mrs. Black's portrait.

Sirius Black led the way up the creaking stairs to the second-floor sitting room. After they sat down on the sofa, Mister Handy soon served tea, without Sirius Black having to bother with anything.

"Hermione, Sirius Black and I are going upstairs to see Kreacher. Wait here for us for a bit," Allen said after taking a sip of tea, intending to call Sirius Black upstairs.

"No need, Allen, I'm fine. I can meet him too," Hermione said. She knew Allen was trying to avoid that House-elf, deeply influenced by the Black family's traditional ways, saying anything hurtful again.

"If that filthy dog-thing dares spout nonsense..." Sirius Black began, disgusted, about to say something harsh, but when he realized he was facing a young girl, he swallowed it back and changed his words. "...then it can stay in the cupboard and never come