"---Fuck!!!"
Seeing William once again give him that "nuclear winter" smile through the door, Sirius's mental defenses began to crumble. Of course, it couldn't be entirely blamed on his weakened psychological resilience after enduring dementor torture for over a decade; William's emotion-manipulating magic was also at play---
Damn it, he clearly remembered that the old Blake family home was fortified with strong defense magic. Logically, anyone not invited by the owner shouldn't be able to enter...
In fact, that's indeed the case.
But William didn't intend to talk sense to him, either. Two and a half minutes ago, William had tried to turn the doorknob of the tightly closed door in front of him, then quickly let go as if shocked. The cursed doorknob did stall him for a moment---
But only for a moment.
Casually casting a Muggle-Repelling Charm to keep out any Muggles, William then released the golem puppet from his arms. The heavy giant sword glinted with golden light and smashed down mercilessly, instantly turning the already worn wooden door into flying splinters. Retrieving the golem, William stepped into the room, and then...
Saw a pale-faced Sirius, who had now promptly fainted.
"..."
Perhaps it was the piercing pain from the split. This magic-inflicted pain was far more severe than simply slashing a knife across one's hand.
If not treated in time, it could indeed lead to unconsciousness, or even death.
But William just squatted to take a closer look, and after confirming Sirius had truly fainted, he stopped caring. Instead, he rose and continued heading deeper into the foyer, dust swirling from the splintering wood in the decaying corridor. After taking a couple more steps inward, William finally pulled out a handkerchief to cover his nose and mouth.
A stench, a severe stench. It was evident no one had lived here for a long time. The dark green wallpaper on both sides had mostly peeled off, and blotchy dark mold climbed over much of the walls, filling the air with decay.
The line of old-fashioned gas lamps on the walls was only sporadically lit. The carpet underfoot was so thin the color of the floorboards beneath showed through. In the corner sat a gnarly troll-leg umbrella stand; William subtly sidestepped to avoid knocking it over, and just then, a sharp voice rang out---
"Who are you? A Mudblood?!! How dare you? How dare you walk in here?!"
The woman in the lavish dress on the portrait hanging at the corridor's end screamed, staring intently at William's feet on the floor, as if this were some grave desecration. William frowned, looking at the name beneath the portrait, the gilded letters already speckled with mold—Walburga Black.
Black. It seems this should indeed be Sirius Black's home?
William turned his gaze. He had reached the foyer's end. Aside from a staircase leading upward on the other side, the inner part of the foyer was a dimly lit room surrounded by rough stone walls, with an unlit large fireplace at the far end. The room was filled with numerous chairs, with a long wooden table in the center.
It looked like a kitchen?
Having visited many Pure-Blood Wizards' homes, apart from exceptions like the capitalist-style Malfoy Manor, most layouts seemed similar to this row house.
But William didn't pay any more attention to the woman in the portrait, though she showed no sign of quieting down, shouting louder and louder as she angrily cursed at William and the fallen Sirius Black, "You worthless creature! Lying there, allowing a Mudblood into my Black home..."
"Bang---"
The heavy gold giant sword slammed into the center of the portrait, the woman's previously furious face instantly vanishing with a scream, leaving William rubbing his ears and looking slightly better.
Gesturing for the Magic Rune Stone Statue to continue watching over the "big" letter-like prone Sirius in the foyer, William proceeded deeper into the kitchen, maneuvering around the haphazardly placed chairs before stopping at an inconspicuous old wooden door. He then opened it, stepping to the left---
A rusty cleaver flew past his chest, and William gently pointed a finger, "Petrificus Totalus."
The House-Elf inside, who had planned to cast a spell, instantly froze, unable to move. Its fingers, nearly touching, could no longer separate. Apart from a dirty rag wrapped around its waist, the rest of its body was virtually bare. Loose skin sagged from its chin, its bald head depressed with large bat-like ears filled with clumps of repulsive white hair. Bloodshot eyes stared, grey and murky, and its chubby nose appeared large, almost like a pig's snout.
Compared to the recently spirited Dobby, this little elf seemed as if it had been dug out of a garbage heap...
Oh, this place indeed felt no different from a garbage heap.
The House-Elf strained its neck, glaring at William with hatred, attempting to speak but only producing a series of nonsensical syllables.
Seeing it controlled, William cast a Stunning Spell for good measure, then levitated it back to the foyer, stacking it atop Sirius. The two ragged-looking figures lying together created an oddly harmonious scene.
Then, William continued upstairs. Though this place appeared long abandoned...some confirmations were still necessary.