"She was. She was also young enough that she might still have been headmistress eight years ago. At least I hope she was. I can probably guess her passwords," he said, before snorting. "Sure she did. I remember how she talked to you, head of heels," he said, trying to keep a straight face. "I know a few of her passwords. She didn't change the often. She also didn't invite people in like it was normal." Or maybe Dumbledore only invited him. He didn't know, but it was possible, because even Ron and Hermione hadn't been there as much as he had.
He nodded. "We cleaned it up, and I like it. Nothing has tried to kill me. Your mother's portrait yells a lot, but she sort of... keeps me company now. It's in the Muggle world and wizards can't find me. It's walking distance of Kings' Cross and Diagon Alley, but also Muggle London. The house-elves' heads are a little disgusting, but Kreacher is so proud of them. Every time I say that we should get rid of him, all the alcohol disappears, no matter how much I buy, so-" He shrugged.