One day in December, Harry woke up from his warm bed and found that it was snowing outside.

The white snow covered the Hogwarts overnight. The castle, the field, the forbidden forest, and Haig's hut were all covered in a layer of silver.

When Harry saw Haig dragging two fir trees that were taller than him towards the castle from the window, he happily realized that Christmas was just around the corner.

During this time, Snape still ignored him, and Harry did not want to get close to him. Every Potions class was torture for him.

Harry felt that he needed to take a breather. Maybe if he did not see Snape for a while, he would not miss him so much.

He also missed Sirius very much. Due to Umrich's investigation order, he had changed his correspondence with Sirius from once a week to once a fortnight. He also had to avoid Ferch's surveillance. This made Hedwig's job very difficult. Fortunately, she was a very good messenger.

In the last letter, Sirius sounded very depressed. Yes, anyone would be depressed if they were locked up in an old house all year round with only an old house elf as company. Besides, Sirius was so reckless. If Harry had not repeatedly dissuaded him and brought up Dumbledore, he would have sneaked out.

When Professor Mcgonagall came to compile the list of students who would go home for Christmas, Harry signed on it without hesitation.

Hermione also signed.

Hermione's parents went to the Hawaiian Islands for a holiday. She did not want to be a third wheel, so she told Harry that they would go to Grimmauld Square for Christmas.

When they pulled the suitcase into the hall, they saw Ron, who was supposed to go home with the rest of the Weisles.

"Ron!" Hermione was surprised and happy. "Didn't you... Didn't you say you were going home?"

"Well..." Ron smiled and took the suitcase from her hand. "I go home every year. This year, I want to stay with you."

"Oh!

Ron! "Hermione threw herself into Ron's arms, hugged him tightly, and swayed slightly.

Harry was stunned by the development of the situation. He admired Ron very much.

He secretly gave Ron a thumbs-up behind Hermione. Ron smiled and winked at him.

"Hey, buddy!

You're good. "When they were sitting on the train, while Hermione went to the bathroom, Harry hurriedly poked Ron." When did you learn to... "

"I tell you, Harry," Ron whispered to Harry smugly. "You have a lot of knowledge when it comes to chasing girls." He pulled out a book from his pocket as if it were some precious treasure. Harry took a closer look. The title of the book was... "One Hundred Words to Keep a Witch Happy." "I bought a lot of them through the Owl Mail. Fortunately, they're not forbidden by Umbridge —"

"And this..."

... "How to Make Your Girlfriend Stop Being Angry"...

"This..."

... "72 Words of Love for a Heartwarming Boyfriend"...

Harry had a strange look on his face.

"Do you want to read it, Harry?

I have a lot of them here. "

"Uh... forget it..."

Snape was not a girl. He certainly would not buy it...

"No, give me a copy, Ron.

I... um... it's not bad to read it when I'm bored. "

They got off the train in London and quietly entered the house that only the confidential people could see. As soon as they entered the door, they were surprised to find that the house was full of dust and there was no festive atmosphere. It was as if they had returned to the first time they came here. It took them almost a month during the summer vacation to clean it up a little bit.

The old drapery covered the portrait of Old Lady Blake. They tiptoed through the hall, and under the drapery, she turned her head to follow their footsteps.

"Who's there?

I seem to smell the dirty mixed blood... "

"Shut up!"

Sirius heard the noise and came down the stairs to greet them.

The drapery slid open on its own, and Old Lady Blake screamed.

"Dirty!

Shameful mixed blood!

Mud bastard!

Pure-blood traitor!

In my ancestor's house... "

"Shut up!

Shut up!

Shut up! "

Sirius shouted, and Ron and Harry went to help. It took a lot of effort to pull the drapery back and let her sleep again.

"Sirius?"

When they came to the living room and saw the small mountain of food packaging, chicken bones, and dirty clothes, Hermione finally could not help but say, "You..."

"Klice is sick," Sirius said with a gloomy face, and then sneered. "Of course, even if he wasn't sick, he wouldn't be willing to cook for me. He always thinks that I'm a disgrace to the Blake family and a disgrace to my mother."

"Sick?" Hermione asked in surprise. "How did he get sick?

Why did he get sick — "

"Who knows what went wrong with him." Sirius waved his hand in annoyance. "He's lying in the cupboard under the stove in the kitchen, crying every day. He's annoying me to death."

Harry saw Hermione's face become serious, and he and Ron exchanged a look of understanding.

Sure enough —

"Sirius!

Klice is sick!

And you — although I don't agree with this system, the fact is that it can't be changed yet — you're his master!

You don't care why he's sick, whether he's uncomfortable, whether he needs medicine... and you complain that he's annoying?! "

"I —" Sirius looked at Hermione in confusion. "That's Klice!

You don't know that he — "

"No matter what, he served your mother all his life, and maybe he served you when you were young. He's not just a puppet who can do housework. You — why do you always treat the house elf as an emotionless creature —"

Hermione's face turned red with anger, and Sirius could not help but shrink under her condemning gaze.

"Uh — I think Hermione is right."

Ron spoke without hesitation and looked at Sirius with condemnation along with Hermione.

Harry looked at him with disdain, knowing that Ron's attitude had nothing to do with his position on the house elf.

But when he thought of Dobbi — although Klice was completely different from Dobbi — he still felt a little sympathy for Klice.

"Why don't …" He tugged at Sirius's sleeve. "Why don't you go see Kreacher, talk to him, uh … ask him what he's sad about. Maybe … maybe we can help him."

"I think you guys are just daydreaming." Sirius rolled his eyes, but when he saw their disapproving gazes, especially Hermione, he gave in. "Okay, okay —"

He walked towards the kitchen with heavy footsteps. "Come with me. I don't want to face him alone."

They came to the stove. Klice was lying on his side under a dirty, tattered quilt. Tears kept flowing from his big, cloudy eyes, but he did not wipe them away.

Even though Harry had never liked Klice, she felt sorry for him now.

"Dirty mixed-blood muggle, traitor to the pure-blood family …" Klice hit Harry's pity away as soon as he opened his mouth. He lay there and stared at them fiercely. "Oh … poor mistress. If she knew that Klice let such a person into the house …"

"Shut up, Klice!" Sirius roared. He turned to Hermione. "See?

You actually let me — "

"Yes, he's Klice's master. He has the right to make Klice shut up. What a disgrace …"

Klice muttered and turned around, facing them with the back of his head.

"Uh … don't be so angry. I care … I care!"

Hermione smiled awkwardly and signaled to Sirius with her eyes. "Maybe — you can ask him —"

"All right, all right!"

Sirius snorted impatiently. "Hey, Klice, what — what are you sad about?

Tell me. "

"I - perhaps I - can help you," he added reluctantly, at Hermione's whispered reminder, with a pale face.

"Klice — what are you sad about?"

This question seemed to provoke Klice. He suddenly sat up and knelt on the ground, crying bitterly. Harry and the others were shocked. "Klice has made a big mistake!"

The old house elf pounded his chest and stomped his feet in pain. He banged his head on the stove and cried loudly.