Just as Allen was looking at the dilapidated old house, there was a loud explosion, and a slovenly house-elf appeared in front of them.
This must be Kriche. Allen looked at him with interest.
Other than a dirty rag around his waist, like the loincloth men in tropical countries used to cover their bodies, he was almost naked.
He looked very old, and his skin seemed to be several times more than his body needed. Although his head was bald like all house-elves, there was a lot of white hair growing out of his two large bat-like ears.
His eyes were bloodshot and watery, and his fleshy nose was very large, almost like a pig's.
"Ah, it's the young master!" Kriche's two light-colored eyes suddenly widened, and he looked at Sirius with a gaze full of unforgettable hatred.
Immediately, Kriche bowed deeply, his body so low that it was almost comical. His large, pig-like nose was pressed flat on the ground.
Then, in a soft but clear voice, he said, "The young master is an annoying, ungrateful, lowlife. He broke his mother's heart. Oh, my poor mistress. She swore not to acknowledge him as her son. Now he's back, and it's said that he's a murderer —"
Allen held back his laughter and looked at Blake. He could almost see the veins on Blake's forehead throbbing.
"My mother has no heart, Kriche," Sirius said angrily. "She lives solely on hatred."
"No matter what the young master says," he muttered indignantly, "the young master isn't even fit to clean the bottom of his mother's shoes. Oh, my poor mistress. What would she say if she saw the young master? How much does she hate him? How disappointing he is —"
Kriche bowed again as he spoke.
"Stand up," Sirius said impatiently. "Okay, what do you want?"
"I'm guarding the mistress' home," the elf said again. "Kriche will serve the noble Blake family for life —"
The little elf straightened up and looked at them with vicious eyes. Apparently, he believed that they could not hear him, because he continued to talk.
"The prodigal even brought back a brat. Kreacher doesn't know his name. What was he doing here? Creech doesn't know — "
"Alright, are you relieved now? Leave, Kreacher, "Sirius said coldly.
The little elf looked at Blake in disbelief, seemingly not daring to disobey a direct order.
But when he dragged his feet outside, he let out an earth-shattering wail. "Mistress, look, young master, that murderer is back from Azkaban, and he even brought back a little brat."
"Kreacher, you must protect this family well. Kreacher will never let the young master and that little bastard destroy this family —" Kreacher, who had already disappeared around the corner, was still wailing.
"Shut up, Kreacher! If you keep howling, I'm really going to kill you! "Sirius shouted irritably.
He picked up an umbrella holder and threw it in Kreacher's direction as if venting his anger.
"Oh, crap, I forgot —"
Before Blake could finish, he was drowned out by a terrifying, deafening, and hair-raising scream.
The two velvet curtains, which were full of bugs, suddenly opened without the suppression of the umbrella frame.
But there was no door behind them.
For a moment, Allen thought that it was a window, and behind the window was an old lady in a black hat screaming with all her might, as if she was being severely beaten.
Then Allen realized that it was only a life-sized portrait, but he had never seen such a realistic and unpleasant portrait in his life.
The old lady was drooling, her eyes darting around, and the yellow skin on her face was tight from screaming.
In the hall behind them, the other portraits were awakened and began to scream. The sound was deafening.
Allen reacted quickly and rushed over. He wanted to pull the curtains to cover the old lady, but he couldn't.
The old lady's screams became more and more piercing. She waved her claw-like hands as if she wanted to claw his face.
"Shut up, you scary old witch, shut up!" Blake also rushed over and grabbed the curtains.
The old lady's face turned pale.
"You — you!" Her eyes widened when she saw Sirius, and she screamed, "Wastrel, the shame of the family, the bastard I gave birth to!"
"I said — shut — up!" Sirius roared. He and Allen used a Herculean effort to pull the curtains back up.
Allen pointed his wand at the umbrella holder in the distance. "The umbrella holder is flying over."
The umbrella holder flew straight at him.
Allen caught the umbrella holder. It was so heavy! Caught off guard, Allen almost lost his grip.
He focused and looked at it. The umbrella holder was unusual. It was made of the leg bone of a troll. No wonder it was so heavy.
He pressed the umbrella holder against the curtains, and the old lady's screams disappeared.
But the portraits around them were still screaming.
Allen used his wand to cast a coma spell on the other portraits. The room was filled with echoing silence.
"Well done!" Panting slightly, Sirius pushed his long black hair away from his eyes and turned to look at Allen.
"Allen," he said with a straight face. "Now you have met my mother."
Allen didn't know how to react, so he played dumb. "Yours?"
"Yes, my dear good mother," Sirius said. "She drove me out of the Blake family."
"Why did she hang the portrait here?" Allen asked.
"Maybe she was like Kriche, guarding the oldest and noblest Blake family or something."
Allen found that Sirius' tone was very stiff and cold.
But after taking the attribute potion, Allen, whose insight and perception had been improved, realized that this was not the case.
The colder Sirius looked on the surface, the more hurt he felt on the inside.
Just like the old lady on the tapestry —
Allen turned his head. His gaze seemed to be able to penetrate the curtain and see the portrait inside.
He obviously wanted to see his son as soon as possible, but he couldn't help but curse instead of showing his concern.
Sirius walked to the other side of the room. A tattered, dirty tapestry covered the entire wall.
Alan followed him and looked at him carefully.
The tapestry looked very old. Its color had faded, as if the fox had bitten it in several places.
However, the gold embroidery on it was still shiny. Allen could clearly see a family tree that could be traced back to the Middle Ages.
A few words were embroidered on the top of the tapestry:
The oldest and noblest Blake family
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