Ethan glanced up.
From the outside, the house appeared utterly rundown.
Its windows were caked in thick layers of grime.
It resembled a haunted mansion that had materialized out of thin air, standing in sharp contrast to the tidy, welcoming homes surrounding it.
Sirius said, "I have to warn you—there are some very unpleasant... things in this house."
His face was somber.
However.
Before he could finish, Ethan brushed past him and shoved the door open with impatience.
This bold move left Sirius stunned for a moment.
Then, he let out a chuckle.
As he looked at Ethan, a hint of admiration gleamed in his eyes.
"Hey!"
Sirius caught up, whispering:
"How could a fearless guy like you get sorted into boring old Ravenclaw?!"
You should've come to Gryffindor with us!
Ethan replied, "Exactly. I should've gone to Hufflepuff."
Sirius: ???
What the hell kind of Hufflepuff was that?
He plunged into deep confusion.
Had Hufflepuff evolved into something entirely different over the past decade or so?
Stepping through the door.
Ethan held his breath, his eyes sharp and filled with curiosity as he scanned the surroundings.
The place was riddled with the marks of time.
Peeling wallpaper, filthy carpets that left footprints with every step, and dense spiderwebs clinging to the corners.
Ethan drew in a deep breath of the musty air and exclaimed:
"Your family has impeccable taste—I have to give it to you, Comrade Sirius."
Just look at those perfectly formed cobwebs, radiating pure aristocratic elegance.
Sirius: "...As long as you're happy."
Ethan strolled down the corridor.
His gaze swept over the faded, darkened portraits lining the walls.
Until he spotted a massive one.
Ethan stopped, standing before the enormous painting.
His eyes lit up, and he let out a soft gasp: "Wow..."
This was a masterfully crafted portrait.
It was astonishingly lifelike.
If he hadn't been so close, he might have missed the delicate brushstrokes.
At first glance, it could easily pass for a real person.
It depicted an elderly woman, fast asleep.
By conventional standards, she was rather unattractive.
Her face was etched with wrinkles, her skin sallow, and she wore a black cap.
Sirius muttered, "Damn it..." He ignored Ethan, who was captivated by the painting, and began anxiously rummaging around for something.
But just then.
A sharp voice echoed from the end of the corridor:
"M-Master...?!"
Sirius halted his search.
He straightened up, rolled his eyes skyward, and let out a heavy sigh:
"Alright, things are about to get lively."
Ethan reluctantly pulled his gaze away from the portrait.
He turned toward the sound.
There stood a wrinkled house-elf.
Draped in a rag-like cloth, with large, bat-like ears drooping down.
He was staring at Sirius in utter disbelief.
Then, he suddenly snapped to attention, bowing his upper body with a swift motion.
The force was so great that his head smacked against the floor with a resounding thud!
It was hard to tell if it was deliberate.
The next second.
The old woman in the portrait jolted awake, her eyes snapping open.
When those malicious eyes landed on Sirius, they widened dramatically!
Turning sharp and venomous.
She shrieked:
"You disgrace to the family, you bastard I gave birth to! How dare you show your face here again?!!!"
Her voice was piercingly shrill, like nails scraping across glass.
Then.
Her spiteful gaze whipped toward Ethan!
She narrowed her eyes.
Like a hound sniffing the air, her nose twitched repeatedly.
Then, she bellowed:
"And—and he's brought back some mudblood from who knows where! To defile my ancestors' home!!!"
A vein pulsed on Sirius's forehead, a mix of shame and fury washing over him.
He roared back:
"Shut up! You wretched old hag! Close that foul mouth of yours that only spits poison!!!"
The old woman's face drained of color, and she began shrieking desperately.
As if enduring excruciating torment.
Her piercing screams quickly roused the other portraits, causing them to join in with their own wails.
Creating a bone-chilling "chorus."
Sirius trembled with rage.
That faint trace of nostalgia evaporated completely.
He wanted to tell Ethan to step outside first.
And return once he'd handled this family chaos.
But before he could speak.
Something cold pressed against his neck.
In an instant.
It was as if a pause button had been hit.
The primary source of the screaming—his so-called mother—abruptly fell silent, as though her throat had been seized.
Her eyes bulged, staring straight ahead.
—What was happening?
Sirius was startled.
He turned to look.
There was Ethan, wand in hand.
Steadily pressing it against his neck.
With a gentle expression, he spoke in an elegant tone:
"Make another sound, and I'll kill him. Kill the last heir of your House of Black—"
Ethan's cobalt-blue eyes fixed on the old woman.
In the softest voice, he uttered the most ruthless words:
"And let the House of Black end forever."
Sirius: ?!!
At those words.
The corridor fell into a silence so profound you could hear a pin drop.
The old woman looked as if she wanted to leap from the canvas and strangle Ethan.
Yet she clamped her lips shut, not daring to utter a peep.
She couldn't risk it.
The look in that boy's eyes was unmistakably that of a killer.
It sent an icy chill down her spine!
Sirius was utterly dumbfounded.
The noise issue that had tormented the Order of the Phoenix was resolved just like that.
A genius!!!
An approach no one had ever imagined!!
After all.
What upstanding person would think to threaten using their own ally's life!!
—In the eerie quiet.
Sirius's mother's portrait was covered by a swath of fabric conjured by Ethan.
He even deliberately used the vibrant red shade that Sirius favored.
After all that.
Sirius stood with his hands on his hips, an indescribable sense of satisfaction swelling in his chest.
"Thanks, kid."
He looked at Ethan with a complicated expression, gratefully clapping him on the shoulder.
"You can explore this mansion freely—take whatever you like."
At those words.
Before Ethan could respond.
A hoarse voice, like a bullfrog's croak, interjected:
"What?! A filthy mudblood, daring to covet the treasures of a noble pure-blood family?! Shameless—"
Ethan turned to look.
There was the wrinkled house-elf, glaring at him with bloodshot eyes brimming with hatred.
Sirius growled in a low, raspy voice: "Shut up, you worthless wretch! I'm the owner of this rundown dump now—I can give things to whoever I damn well please!"
He turned to Ethan and explained:
"He's the house-elf of the Black family, named Kreacher."
"Heh, he's nothing but a lunatic."
His words dripped with disgust and disdain.
Hmm—he seemed to recall that Sirius had been indirectly killed by this house-elf.
Ethan mused to himself.
Upon hearing Sirius's words.
Kreacher bowed his head deeply, feigning respect:
"Of course, the Master can decide as he wishes."
Then, in a mutter he assumed no one could hear:
"Filthy, lowly mudblood! Defiling the Mistress's home!"
Sirius immediately drew his wand.
He was about to unleash a barrage of lightning whips on the house-elf.
Their mental states were equally unhinged.
Ethan raised a hand, halting the furious Sirius.
He pondered for a moment.
Suddenly, a bright, innocent smile spread across his face.
He bent down.
Meeting Kreacher's eyes, which burned with loathing.
He said softly:
"Kreacher, hand over the locket that your former master—Sirius's brother—entrusted to you."
As the words left his lips.
The seemingly fearless house-elf's eyes suddenly widened!
They filled with unimaginable terror!!