Struggling to survive at Hogwarts

Chapter 198 Walbuga's Taunt

After that conversation, the trio fell into a long silence.

Thea has already stood on the opposite side!

This glaring fact makes them feel depressed every time they think about it.

Harry tried to find excuses for Thea, such as the possibility that she was forced to side with Voldemort, after all, she had Voldemort's blood in her veins...

But Harry couldn't ignore the Crucifixion that Snape mentioned.

On her first day of vacation, she cast the Cruciatus Curse on a living person. When did she learn that?

Was it under Barty Jr.'s tutelage, or even earlier?

Harry's jumbled thoughts were giving him a growing headache, until he saw Hermione, who remained calm throughout—even Ron couldn't help but wonder with Harry if Thea had some hidden secret...

But Hermione never participated...

------

"Get up, Harry!" Ron's voice grew clearer. "You're going to help Mom with the spring cleaning today!"

Half an hour later, Harry and Ron quickly got dressed, ate breakfast, and came to the living room.

This is a long room on the second floor with a high ceiling. Huge tapestries hang on the olive-green walls, and the words on the tapestries are clearly visible. Even the carpet underfoot is spotless.

Harry really didn't know where to begin.

At this point, Mrs. Weasley spoke up, “We need to clean up all these portraits today and put some of them away. Also, the Dark Magic items in the display case need to be dealt with.”

"What about Kreacher? He's a house-elf, shouldn't he be doing these chores?" Ron couldn't help but complain.

“Kreacher is too old, he probably can’t do it—” Hermione couldn’t help but defend Kreacher.

“If Kreacher wants to do it, he can do something that will definitely surprise you, Hermione,” Sirius said, as he entered the room carrying a bloodstained bag that looked like it was filled with dead rats.

“I was just about to go to the backyard to feed Buckbeak.”

Seeing the questioning look on Harry's face, Sirius explained.

As they were talking, a series of piercing doorbell rings and a peculiar whistle suddenly came from downstairs.

"I've told them so many times not to ring the doorbell!" Sirius was a little annoyed, but he still hurriedly ran downstairs.

Not long after, an unfamiliar female voice suddenly rang out.

"You heartless bastard! The disgrace of the family! You actually dared to kick her out of this house for such a bunch of scoundrels!"

The woman's voice was loud, and Harry and his two companions could easily hear what she was saying. After hearing what she said, they all froze.

Sirius seemed too busy dealing with the horn to pay attention to the portrait, which caused the woman's voice to grow even louder.

"You bunch of bastards! You damned bastards!"

"You live in my house, and instead of being grateful, you're scheming against the girl who has my blood in her veins!"

"I'm telling you! She is the rightful heir to the Black family!"

"That must be a disappointment for you!" Sirius laughed sarcastically. "They're already the heir to Mystic, they don't need a family that's rotten to the core!"

Sirius knows very well how to touch his mother's sore spots.

She had spent her entire life worrying about the succession to the Black family, and now that the hope she had finally gained had been dashed, her sorrow had only deepened.

Looking at his unfilial son, Walbuga closed his eyes in anguish, then said in a deep voice, "The biggest mistake I've ever made in my life is raising you to be like this!"

"You are the biggest stain on my life!"

The impact of those words left Sirius frozen in place.

He had never seen his mother like this before; she was no longer angry, nor was she screaming...

The seriousness in her eyes held Sirius firmly rooted to the spot!

Walbuga seemed to have completely given up on her son; after saying those words, she simply disappeared from the portrait.

After what seemed like an eternity, Sirius finally snapped out of his daze, pulled the curtains shut, and stiffly walked through the foyer toward the backyard—he still had to feed Buckbeak.

The three people on the second floor remained silent, none of them daring to remind Sirius that he hadn't taken the bag.

“…Let’s go!” Hermione was the first to come to her senses. “We need to get ready. Mrs. Weasley will be coming down from the third floor soon after she finishes cleaning.”

Harry and Ron then began to move.

They wiped the dust off the portrait, then carefully removed it, piled it up, and planned to take it to the basement later.

Throughout the entire process, these portraits remained completely silent, as if they had all accepted their fate—

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

That night, after everyone had fallen asleep, a slight noise suddenly came from one of the rooms.

"Ron?"

"Ron?"

Harry called out softly, but Ron on the other bed didn't make a sound.

Harry was relieved. He carefully got up, put on his Invisibility Cloak, and quietly walked out the door.

He didn't know why he couldn't sleep tonight; perhaps it was because the impression the Black family lady had left on him this morning was too shocking...

After thinking for a long time, he decided to get up.

The journey was quiet; most of the portraits had been taken down, and the few that remained kept silent.

"lady?"

"Mrs. Black?"

Harry came to a portrait on the first floor that was covered by a huge curtain. He slowly pulled back the curtain and called out to the lady in a low voice.

"Potter?"

Fortunately, she still paid attention to him.

But Harry's relief was quickly shattered by Walbuga.

"I absolutely, absolutely hate your father!"

Harry froze.

"Furthermore, my level of dislike for you is gradually approaching that of your father!"

Walbuga's words actually made Harry laugh out loud.

"What are you laughing at?!" Walbuga asked sternly.

“It’s a very special feeling to be hated like my father,” Harry said with a smile.

Walbuga: "…………"

Shameless brat!

Just like his hateful father!

"Tell me! What are you doing sneaking out at night instead of sleeping?"

Harry didn't answer immediately, but stared at the portrait in a daze.