"Uh… Professor, is he okay?" Harry and the others looked toward Lupin and asked.
"He's fine. Probably just got stuck under the bathtub," Lupin explained.
But Kasenhis didn't immediately return. Instead, he headed toward 221. Not long after, he drove a black SUV out from the garage of 221. As he passed Sherlock, who was still trapped under the bathtub, he even politely honked the horn.
Once he pulled up in front of his own house, he honked again to signal the others to get in.
"Professor, why aren't we going directly to Grimmauld Place? Why are we driving?" Ron asked from the backseat.
"Because while I know the name 'Grimmauld Place,' I don't know where it actually is. We need a map," Kasenhis said, handing the map to Lupin in the passenger seat.
"Doesn't Professor Lupin know either? Aren't you and Sirius friends?" Harry asked curiously.
"Back in school, Sirius didn't have a great relationship with his family, so whenever we hung out, we didn't go to his house. Especially after he ran away and moved out of the Black family home—we knew even less after that." Lupin explained while carefully flipping through the map...
Kasenhis leaned over to glance at the map. "Not far, huh."
"Number 12 Grimmauld Place… Eleven… Thirteen… Hey! Seriously though, the people here must be goddamn math prodigies. After all these years, no one's noticed something's missing?" Kasenhis chuckled in amusement.
"You don't get it either, huh? We just need the letter Sirius gave us—besides being a letter, it's also a medium. A medium for the Fidelius Charm," Lupin pulled the letter from his pocket and glanced at it. Then, when he looked up, a dilapidated, pitch-black building appeared in front of him.
The others quickly followed suit and saw the same building. They walked to the front and pressed the doorbell.
"So the most ancient pureblood family uses… an electric doorbell?" Neville leaned forward and muttered from the back.
"Looks like it," Kasenhis added dryly, "And the ancestral home of the most ancient pureblood family is right in the middle of a Muggle neighborhood. That's some top-tier irony."
Just as he finished speaking, the door opened. A creepy, bony house-elf with sinewy limbs poking visibly under its skin appeared in front of them—Kreacher.
"It was those filthy Muggles who built a city around the great Black family home! Not the other way around!"
"Hey hey! You guys made it! Come on in, come in—this old git didn't say anything to you, did he?" Sirius came bouncing down the stairs, arms spread in a Y shape, greeting them enthusiastically.
"No, he didn't," Kasenhis replied, shaking his head while carefully stepping around the house-elf.
After most of the group had walked past Kreacher, it was Hermione's turn. She gave him a polite smile—only to be blocked by his outstretched hand.
"The noble House of Black does not permit the filth of Mudbloods to tread its floors."
Before anyone could react, Sirius stormed over and kicked Kreacher hard. "She's my guest. Watch your damn mouth!"
"But it's true—if the old master were here, this filthy—mmph!" Kreacher clearly wanted to say more, but Sirius immediately silenced him with a spell.
"Sorry about that, Hermione. He really is a buzzkill—don't mind him," Sirius said apologetically.
"It's fine. He's just... pitiful," Hermione replied, clearly not taking the incident to heart.
Sirius led everyone into the sitting room. "What can I say, this house doesn't exactly bring back happy memories. That's why I invited you guys—take a look around. If there's anything you like, just take it. I'm going to lift the protective spells and sell the place. Then I'll buy a house on Privet Drive... uh, Harry, you don't mind, do you?"
Harry quickly shook his head. "Of course not! Does that mean I could live with you?"
Sirius beamed and nodded. "Absolutely. Though we can't live too far from your aunt and uncle—Lily, your mum, cast a protective spell based on blood relation. You still need to stay within a certain range of your blood relatives for it to work."
"Oh, they'd be thrilled if I moved far, far away," Harry muttered.
"You shouldn't say that. Just because they hate you doesn't mean you should stop caring about your own safety," Kasenhis said while eyeing Kreacher suspiciously, as if the house-elf were infested with fleas.
"You're right… Professor, what are you looking at?"
The others followed Kasenhis's gaze.
Kreacher had neatly placed the tea tray on the floor and was now prying at his own mouth with his hands, his entire body twitching and writhing as though he really was covered in fleas.
"Is he trying to say something? Sirius, maybe let him go—see what he wants to say?" Hermione suggested softly.
"…Alright." Sirius nodded, then turned to Kreacher. "But if you dare insult my friends again, I'll hack you up—lengthwise."
Kreacher was quickly released from the silencing spell and immediately screamed, "You disgrace! How dare you defile the noble House of Black—planning to sell it to Muggles! You have betrayed the ancestors of the Black family! They are all ashamed of you!"
Sirius leaned lazily back into the sofa. "So what? It's not place is some sort of palace—no sunlight, no ventilation."
"This is the legacy of the Black family!"
Kasenhis clicked his tongue from where he sat on the sofa.
As an outsider, it probably wasn't his place to say anything, but watching a slave get worked up over his master's legacy and honor… was just weird.
Fortunately, Kreacher was a house-elf. Surely there weren't any humans in real life, right?
Starving themselves just to pity those high and mighty nobles—completely oblivious to the fact that those nobles never needed their pity in the first place.
As for Kreacher, and perhaps all house-elves, Kasenhis could only think: born to be servants. Once they kneel, they can never stand again. Absolute livestock constitution.
And just as Kasenhis was spiraling in this internal monologue, the argument between Sirius and Kreacher was winding down. It needed an outside party to step in and shut down this bizarre back-and-forth...
"Kasenhis, be the judge!"
"I knew this was coming…"
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