The group did not linger any longer, and Sirius showed no intention of reminiscing. Instead, he led them straight upstairs.
Off one side of the entrance hall was a dining room, whose cupboards were filled with china and picture frames bearing the Black family crest.
A row of decorations lined the wall of the staircase leading to the second floor. The shriveled heads of house-elves hung there, casting strange shadows over the stairs.
Harry immediately broke out in a sweat. Only then did he remember the information the Detective Club had gathered about the Black family: they were skilled in all sorts of dark magic. Could these be part of some dark magic ritual? No wonder my maternal cousin cast all sorts of defensive charms on himself as soon as he came in.
Dobby explained beside him, "The house-elves of some ancient families consider it an honor to have their heads hung up in the family home after they die."
Harry muttered under his breath, "That's insane!"
They did not stop on the other floors. Sirius led everyone straight to the fifth floor, stopping outside a bedroom.
Looking pleased with himself, Sirius pried up a floorboard in front of the door and took out a key that had become badly rusted from the damp. He tapped it lightly with his wand, and it instantly looked as good as new, revealing its original bronze finish.
"They all pride themselves on being noble pure-bloods and utterly disdain Muggle methods, so I added all sorts of protections against magical unlocking to the lock. This door can only be opened by Muggle means. I don't think they would ever do that."
Hearing how pleased Sirius was with his handiwork, Harry blinked and looked at Douglas beside him. If he remembered correctly, his maternal cousin