The idea of writing Kreacher's voice in juxtaposition to the Weasley twins' voice really excited me.
Set in the Summer between GoF and OotP, around the time the Weasleys arrive at Grimmauld Place.
Twintroductions To A Foul-Tempered House-Elf
"Crikey, Sirius, what was all that yelling about earlier?" asked George when Sirius Black appeared at the top of the stairs.
"Literal screaming like a banshee," added Fred.
"Was it the ghost of Grimmauld Place?"
Sirius sighed. "Worse than that, boys. It was my mum,"
"Your mum?"
"Isn't she dead?"
"Is she the ghost of Grimmauld Place?"
"Not a ghost," Sirius explained, "A painting. You know first-hand how a lot of pure-blood families feel about the Weasleys and the Prewetts-"
"Yeah," said Fred slowly, bridling.
"Well, let's just say the Black's attitude towards your family makes the Malfoys look positively chummy,"
"So your mum was-"
"Screaming at our mum because our mum's a-"
"Pure-blood who doesn't care what blood types other wizards are?" the twins clarified.
"The filthy remnant of my foul mother is deluded enough to believe that pure-bloods demean themselves by accepting Muggle-borns as magic. That's why she was screaming at your mum," Sirius answered brusquely.
"Oh," said Fred.
"Okay," said George. They both felt stunned.
"I've shut the old hag up for now, but ignore her when she starts on again. She's an echo of a stupid old fanatic. I am a Black and I don't think my family's worth one tenth of yours,"
The twins glanced at each other, feeling rather touched.
"While we're on the subject, I may as well fulfil the dispiriting task of introducing you to Kreacher," added Sirius with a sigh.
"Whose Kreacher?" asked George.
"Family house-elf," Sirius told him, "As awful as my mother in his fanaticism- he's followed only her orders while the house has been empty all these years, and he was full of pure-blood mania before then- but worse because by some cruel twist of fate he isn't dead yet. Come on,"
He led them downstairs, putting a finger over his lips to indicate that they should be silent when passing the drawn curtains over Mrs Black's frame. The twins followed Sirius through the kitchen and into a cramped alcove by the stove. Once there, Sirius tore open the cupboard door and snapped in a very harsh tone, "Kreacher get out here, you foul piece of shit,"
Fred and George looked at each other sharply; Sirius was often waspish, but his voice when addressing Kreacher betrayed downright hate.
Peering into the dingy cupboard, Fred and George could see piles of random junk and rusted contraptions and in the middle, the hunched and wrinkled figure of a very old house-elf.
"This is Kreacher," announced Sirius, "His den's so cluttered because he's always stealing stuff of my mother's. Idolises her; steals her belongings and treats them like holy relics. Kreacher, this is Fred and George Weasley, sons of Arthur and Molly who you met earlier,"
"Weasley!" gasped the house-elf, "Betrayers of their blood! Vile, disgusting animals-"
"You are a vile, disgusting animal," Sirius informed him coldly, "You will treat the Weasley family as if they were your masters,"
"Oh, if my mistress could see this! Kreacher is the slave to blood traitors!" Kreacher howled.
"Kreacher is the slave to anybody I see fit, and he will respect them as he should respect me,"
"Master does not deserve Kreacher's respect; Master spited his mother by not being sorted into the house of Salazar Slytherin. Master ran away with the Potter boy to befriend Mudbloods and blood traitors. Master betrays the House of Black every time he brings the friends of Dumbledore to his mother's house, the enemies of Dark Lord, the-owww!"
Kreacher screeched in pain as Sirius shut the cupboard doors on his fingers. The house-elf's cries could be heard, muffled, through the door as Sirius turned to Fred and George.
"That," he said darkly, "Was Kreacher,"
And he left the kitchen.
"Well, he seemed a decent bloke," shrugged Fred.
"Charming," agreed George.
"Looks like he's going to be a fan of ours,"
"We should get Mum to make him a jumper-aah!
The cupboard door slammed open and Kreacher peered out.
"Now master has gone, Kreacher will get a look at the blood traitors," he growled.
"Hi!" beamed Fred, waving exaggeratedly.
"Pleased to meetcha, Kreacher," said George.
Kreacher blanched, then looked between Fred and George, befuddled. "Kreacher sees one head on two bodies- what is this trickery, which one is enchanted?" he muttered (it was never easy to tell if Kreacher was addressing them, himself, all of them or none of them).
"We're not enchanted," said George.
"We're twins,"
"One boy in two places- they are devious rascals, these blood traitor spawn,"
"We're two people," Fred told him patiently, "Mum explained it when we were little: a zygote splits in half so two embryos develop with the same genes,"
"The boy talks kindly to me, he should not be kind to me, Kreacher does not like the boy with two bodies,"
"Two boys, two bodies," reiterated George slowly.
"Two half-people, two wicked troublesome brats with their hair the colour of the devil. Deformed; torn into two bodies as punishment for their family's treachery,"
Fred and George were used to being called troublesome; it was their trademark. They'd been called wicked a couple of times when they'd done something really naughty- and it didn't bother them. Jibes about their hair bounced off them, and taunts about being a blood traitor alarmed them because of others' narrow-mindedness and bigotry- none of the Weasleys saw 'blood traitor' as a personal insult.
Kreacher calling the twins deformed, however, was another matter. Fred and George loved being twins. They were best friends. They adored one other and told each other everything (apart from those things which didn't need saying because they automatically knew through their twin connection). George and Fred did everything together and had almost the exact same likes and dislikes. The twins rarely argued (although when they did it was explosive) and could communicate through a single look. They loved pretending to be each other, sharing clothes and finishing one other's sentences. It never occurred to Fred or George to feel irritated when they were referred to as "the twins" instead of by their names, and never once been a time when either one had thought that they might prefer not to be a twin. Honestly, Fred and George Weasley sometimes wondered how people without an identical twin made it through the day.
Their twinhood was something they were both incredibly proud of. And so Kreacher suggesting that there was something wrong with them, or that being a twin was a punishment...that stung.
George's smile melted. "You are a very nasty piece of work," he informed Kreacher in a Hermione-ishly icy tone.
Fred's anger was hotter: "Don't talk to us like that! Don't you dare call us deformed!"
"Kreacher has offended the blood traitor scamps. Kreacher has offended the red-hair boys. Master will be cross; Master says Kreacher must respect the families Master brings home,"
"Yeah, you should. Sirius told you to treat us as your masters," George reminded him sharply.
Kreacher bowed hurriedly. Fred cleared his throat. Kreacher looked indecisive for a moment, then bowed to him as well.
"Respect Master's friends, although Master is a vile little wretch and his friends are enemies of the Dark Lord,"
He shuffled towards his cupboard, but stopped and peered at Fred and George again.
"Unnatural beasts," he shuddered.
"We are not unnatural!" Fred snapped, "Being a twin is way more natural than judging people on their blood type and filling your room with crap belonging to a dead woman!" shouted Fred.
"The way we love each other is natural," added George, "I can't think of a creepy or more unnatural love than nicking Sirius' dead mum's stuff!"
"Mistress' possessions are the last Kreacher has of her, and he did love her so!" Kreacher wailed, "Mistress' possessions have been in the House of Black for generations. Ooh, Kreacher lives for the days he finds one of Mistress' buttons or Mistress' hairpins,"
"Well get back in your cupboard and sleep with it," snarled George.
"Go on- move,"
Kreacher crept into his cupboard and shut the door behind him. A faint cloud of dust spread from where it slammed.
"I don't like him," said Fred.
"Me neither," said George.
They glared at the cupboard door for a moment before Fred said bracingly, "Come on. Let's see how far down the corridor the Extendable Ears can reach. There's a meeting tonight isn't there?"
"Yeah; Tonks, Mad-Eye, Kingsley, Sevvy...let's put a Sticking Jinx on Sevvy's chair so he gets stuck to it!"
"Or pond slime in his hair,"
"Like that'd make any difference to it. How about slipping Doxies into his soup?"
"Or Befuddlement Draught in his drink?"
And they scampered out of the kitchen with their arms round one another's shoulders.
Thank you for reading. Whatever your opinion, please review. Thanks, have a great weekend.