Chapter 160
"So now you have a chance to change things, Kreacher," Draco said in a low, persuasive voice. "The master you acknowledge has transferred this house to me."
He handed over a parchment filled with dense writing.
Kreacher took it with trembling hands and read slowly. As a house-elf who prided himself on serving pure-blood families, literacy had always been essential.
"This is Master Black's handwriting… the magic is still on the paper…"
Tears welled in his bloodshot eyes.
"Master is a prodigal son! Oh, my poor mistress! To think the rebellious Master Black sold the ancestral home—what disgrace! What shame to the House of Black!"
Years of isolation had twisted his temperament. He began muttering and lamenting endlessly.
"Enough," Draco said sharply.
Kreacher fell silent immediately.
"As your new master, I order you to clean the entire house at once."
Then Draco added, "Dobby, assist him."
"Yes, Master," Dobby bowed deeply.
Draco assumed the two elves would cooperate.
He was wrong.
---
As they walked down the corridor, Dobby spoke proudly:
"Master Malfoy is the best master! He is kind! He even pays Dobby a salary!"
Kreacher stopped and glared at him in disgust.
"Shame! Disgrace! A house-elf who wants payment! Have you no pride? Have you forgotten what it means to serve?"
"Dobby is not a servant! Dobby is a free elf!" Dobby protested.
"Ridiculous!" Kreacher shrieked.
The two argued loudly all the way down the hall.
---
Meanwhile, Draco looked around the entrance hall.
"It's too dark."
He flicked his wand.
With a rustling sound, a row of old gas lamps lit up along the walls. Their dim light revealed peeling wallpaper, worn carpets, crooked blackened portraits, and snake-shaped chandeliers and candle stands.
"Better," Draco said.
Then he turned to Pansy. "If you regret coming, I can send you back."
"It's not scary at all," she said quickly—though her voice trembled.
They moved slowly down the corridor.
Suddenly—
"Ah!"
Pansy screamed and began kicking frantically.
Draco glanced down.
"It's just a claw. Likely from a Niffler. And it's dead."
The fur was brittle with age, the long nails pale.
"Why would anyone put that in a hallway?" Pansy complained after calming down.
"Nifflers are attracted to gold and treasure," Draco said. "The Blacks probably believed it would bring wealth."
"Looks more like bad luck," she muttered, kicking it aside.
A few steps later, she noticed the umbrella stand—made from what looked like a monstrous leg.
"This family's taste is disturbing."
They continued carefully, passing antique lamps, old portraits, rare magical objects, and decorations that were clearly centuries old.
Then Pansy froze.
"D-Draco… what is that?"
She pointed at the wall ahead, her voice shaking.
A voice answered from above.
"Those are my most honored predecessors!"
Kreacher's head poked through the staircase railing, speaking proudly.
On the wall was a mounted display—
Rows of shriveled heads.
House-elf heads.
Their empty eyes stared forward. Their expressions were frozen in strange, satisfied smiles.
Pansy felt her stomach turn.