Maybe even worse had been the ridiculous amount of paperwork he'd been forced to do with Mr. Howe in order to finalize things and make it all legally airtight. That had taken them hours to accomplish and did include a visit to the responsible Ministry offices, adding to the media circus. Mr. Howe clearly had not thought ahead and it only reinforced Sirius' wish to find someone else to take over his legal matters in the magical world... today!
Of course Mr. Howe was oblivious of what his client was thinking. Too bad for him he would soon lose this big and important client, which would go hand-in-hand with a loss of reputation.
Thankfully, all that legal nonsense now was finally done, though Sirius had been forced to wear that damn ring that would mark him as the Head of the House of Black. In the past he'd seen this ring too often on the hand of the Head of House at family gatherings, so he already was sick of seeing it now, let alone wearing it. He would make sure that the thing would spend 99% of its time in a locked glass case in his living room.
However, there was one final part that would be especially distasteful for him.
"Is this really necessary?" Sirius asked Mr. Howe while they walked down Grimmauld Place to No. 12.
"I know it might be distasteful to enter the very place where your mother died just a day prior, but we have to do this to ensure that ownership has been correctly set to you, Mr. Black. That, and no one knew what to do with its house-elf, so he's still in there," Mr. Howe explained.
I couldn't care less that this was where my dear Mum finally bit the dust, Sirius thought. It was the bad memories of the place that made him reluctant to get even close to it.
Finally, they stood in front of the house, which as usual was disguised. Everyone without magic just assumed there had been a numbering error, and the number 12 had been skipped by accident. The Blacks had taken pains and tons of gold for the illusion to be perfect. Sure, as the Head of House he could have it ripped out, but that would only cause trouble if a house appears where none had been before.
"OK, let's get this over as quick as possible," Sirius said, holding his ring against the doorknocker. The door opened without any complaint. "At least this ring is good for something."
Walking into the entrance hall, Sirius saw that literally nothing had changed from his unhappy childhood days. Even the damn umbrella stand some ancestor had fashioned from a troll leg was still there. The portraits on the wall, the ones that always insulted him in the later years of his youth, were now silent. Perhaps that was due to him now being their master. It seemed now that being the Head of House at least did have some advantage.
There was something new however. It was on the wall, as tall as him and covered by curtains that seemed to vibrate slightly. "What in in all names is that?"
His voice was enough to set it off.
The curtains flew open and revealed a life-sized full-body portrait of Walburga Black. Sirius saw that she must have commissioned it years after he had left home, since she looked older and uglier than he remembered her - though she never had been a beauty in the first place. To his dismay, the portrait was clearly enchanted to hold an imprint of her personality, as it moved and took notice of him.
Her hateful eyes focused on him. "Yooouuuu! You dare to return to this place!? Blood-traitor, abomination, shame of my flesh! How dare you to wear the ring of House Black?!"
"Crap, as if she wasn't bad enough in life, she's even tormenting others from beyond the grave," Sirius cursed while the portrait continued to insult him with an extensive vocabulary. "Alright, that's enough!"
Pulling his wand, Sirius turned the lone umbrella in the stand into needle and thread, before pointing it at the curtains. "SILENCE!" That was followed by a spell and the force behind it was enough to slam the curtains shut and hold them there, while needle and thread came to life, sewing the curtains shut.
"There, now we have silence. Fits to her to be spiteful, even after her demise," Sirius snorted.
Mr. Howe on the other hand looked a bit pale, before collecting himself. "Well, Mr. Black, the surest way to know that the house is now yours is to call the elf. If he appears, it's yours."
"Let's hope we won't regret this." Sirius knew, there was little other choice, despite how much he disliked that elf. "KREACHER! Front and center!"
-Pop- "Kreacher feared it would come to this."
Well, that certainly was Kreacher, but Sirius had never before seen him in such a dirty uniform. Well, it not exactly was a uniform in the classical sense, but the pride of House Black had demanded that even their servants would show off their wealth. It was a carefully tailored tunic with the coat of arms of House Black on its front. What Kreacher was wearing did not count as clothes, since he'd made him himself instead of being given to him; certainly an interesting way to look at the rules. After all, house-elves were able to handle the laundry as well.
Sirius took in the hostile looks Kreacher gave him and knew right away the elf still disliked him even after all these years. "Well, that proves my ownership, right?" he asked Mr. Howe.
"Yes, you are now the rightful owner of this house and all that comes with it." Mr. Howe then noticed the hostile looks Kreacher gave Sirius. "Though this could prove a problem."
Sirius looked thoughtful. "You know, in my current living arrangements I have no use for a house-elf..."
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