A/N: Keeper for the Tutshill Tornados. Chosen creature: House-elf.
Six weeks had passed since Kreacher had learnt of Dobby's death at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange. Normally, the lives and deaths of anyone outside the Black family bore little to no consequence on him: He was Kreacher- He was only concerned in their interests. (after all he had loyally served the masters and mistresses of the Black Household for over 40 years. )
He had no idea why, but the news of Dobby's demise seemed to affect him more than he cared to admit. For almost forty years, he had sympathised with their ideals on who belonged in the magical world. Anyone that was of Muggle descent, or those that supported them deserved to burn in Hell. But this was different. This was one of his own. A fellow House Elf. He actually felt saddened!
Unable to shake the intolerable feelings he was experiencing, Kreacher found himself observing his surroundings a little more closely. He had been at Hogwarts for nearly three weeks since the Battle. He witnessed the kindness of the people that survived.
They worked together tirelessly to ensure those requiring burial made it to their surviving families. He watched how they grew closer through grief and pain. He watched their strength as a unit achieve the impossible. He himself had even joined in the work, and been welcome.
As he worked, Kreacher could still Hear Bellatrix cackling after she learnt she had succeeded in killing one his fellow kind,and how it had filled him with disdain.
Normally, he would of cackled along with them. ( Before being told to shut up, and carry out his duties. ) However, he saw no reason to laugh.
He knew of course, that House Elves were considered the lowest race in the Magical world. He knew they were considered slaves. He knew they were held in little, to no regard, but celebrating killing one actually got under his skin.
For the first time in his life, Kreacher began to question his life choices. He knew the House Elf way of life had always been to serve others, even if he never really understood why.
He found himself making comparisons between himself and his fallen comrade. He wondered if those that Dobby had followed after being freed from his duties at Malfoy manner were with him when he died. He wondered if they had buried him like an equal, or tossed his lifeless corpse in a ditch somewhere.
In spite himself, Kreacher knew the answer. They may have been nothing more than mere filthy brats, but they were good. He knew they would have buried him. A House Elf challenging any Witch or Wizard, had never been heard of- an act of bravery like that is something that could only of come from a true sense of belonging. It was at that moment, He realised a few truths. The biggest, was that he admired Dobby.
Overcome with emotion, he sat in his cupboard. He wished that he could have seen his brethren one last time, even if just long enough to tell him that he respected him. Knowing this could never be, Kreacher decided to pen a letter that he hoped could be delivered to Dobby's grave.
With tears trying their best to fall, Kreacher blinked furiously, picked up his quill, and wrote. He poured everything out of his blackened soul on to the parchment below.
Every thought, feeling; the whole lot poured from him. After what seemed like an eternity, Kreacher wiped another tear from the corner of his eye, and finally put down his Quill.
He carefully folded the parchment, and used some of the wax from his candle to seal it shut. Once the wax had set dry, he turned it over, wrote on the front what he wanted done with the letter, and waited for an opportunity for it to be delivered into the right hands.
Two weeks later, Kreacher had succeeded in ensuring the letter would find its way to its destination.
As she was preparing some of her things for washing, Hermione started checking through pockets, and found the sealed letter. Not recognising the seal, she turned it over. The front read:
"Brats, please deliver this to the grave of Dobby the House elf."
The handwriting looked old- worldly. Almost beautiful. It wasn't penned by anyone she knew- nobody would dare call her that to her face for a start. Curiosity started to nibble at her, but she resisted the temptation to open it until she had brought it to Harry's attention.
"I'm not taking it anywhere near his grave until I know what's in it." Harry said flatly.
A little taken aback at his answer, Hermione interjected that the letter is obviously meant to be sacred, and not meant for their eyes.
"Look Harry, no harm can come to Dobby anymore. He's sleeping peacefully at his final resting place, thanks to you." she added gently.
He looked at her ruefully. She was right: but Dobby had died for him. Even though he could no longer protect him in the mortal realm, he could at least protect his grave. It was the least he could do.
"Maybe we could read it to him before we bury it with him?" Harry suggested in compromise.
Hermione gave him a look, but couldn't really object- It was true. By reading it at the graveside, it was still only Dobby that was the recipient: just aided due to the whole being buried thing.
They got their coats, and wandered back to the grave site. The earth had compacted down, but other than natural effects, it had remained untouched.
Harry and Hermione took a few moments to re-arrange the stones, and tidy up a little.
"Hi Dobby, we thought we'd come and visit. We promised we would." Harry said, trying not to cry. Hermione walked to his side, and took his hand.
"We miss you, our old friend" she breathed.
Once they had sat down, Hermione handed Harry the letter to open. It seemed only fitting. He looked at her, and nodded.
He carefully broke the wax seal, and opened up the letter. Harry stared at it, but couldn't read the Handwriting.
"This just seems like a mess of letters- See if you can read it. It's really odd writing."
Hermione took the letter from him, and studied it for a moment. Once she had grasped the writing fully, she began to read:
" Dobby,
Kreacher has just heard of your passing. I don't know why, but your death has saddened me. We didn't know each other, you and I, but we House Elves are bound by our duties. Although Kreacher doesn't understand why you chose to follow those brats, Kreacher does accept that you were performing your duties.
Young Mistress black crowed with delight when she learned she had taken your life,nasty vile woman. Thinks taking the lives of our kind is okay...
Kreacher wanted you to know, that he admired you. How Dobby got the Malfoy family to free him, I do not know, but Dobby is the first. You must have been one very good House Elf.( Or a very bad one, and was expelled.)
Kreacher will admit, he despised your choice to follow the brats. Mistresses and Masters of the House of Black, have taught Kreacher the evils of the Mudbloods. Kreacher has followed their teachings devoutly for many years, but now wonders why.
The brats seemed to treat Dobby like an equal; not like a slave. This puzzled Kreacher greatly. Wizards and Witches ruled House Elves- not befriended them. It made Kreacher realise that Dobby was the greater House Elf.
Dobby's actions have shown Kreacher, that our kind can have good lives, and now Kreacher no longer wishes to serve as a slave. Now Kreacher wishes to live as Dobby did.A free Elf. Of course, Mistress Bellatrix would have killed Kreacher for wishing to leave, but the mother of the Weasley brats took care of her she did.
Kreacher didn't feel one bit bad- Had it coming she did. A fit ending for such a nasty piece of work.
Since being here,I have seen many people, working have accepted Kreacher as one of them, without have shown Kreacher kindness- somewhere to stay, food, in return for helping.
Kreacher is sorry for the things he has called you and the ones you followed. Kreacher now knows the difference between service and slavery, and will look to serve as choice.
Hermione choked back tears as she read the next part.
Hogwarts will eventually be rebuilt, and Kreacher has been told he is welcome to stay and work there if he so has accepted their offer. Turn over a new leaf, I will.
What Kreacher is trying to say, is thank you. You have shaped a change for House Elves everywhere. No more being treated as vermin, No more being abused, and taken for granted.
We are now seen as equals. And this is all thanks to Dobby, and his friends.
That word still sounds strange... Friends.
Kreacher has never known this word, or what it meant, until now. Kreacher has you to thank for it. I hope that we will be reunited in the after life,friend. It would bring Kreacher great pleasure to be in your company once again.
If you should see Master Sirius up there, please thank him for being the kindest master of the Black family. At least he never beat Kreacher. Please tell him Kreacher misses him.
Well, I must go now friend Dobby, as there is much to do, but know that Kreacher will be with you in spirit until his dying day.
Good bye friend, until we meet again.
Kreacher.
Hermione put the letter in her lap, and wiped the tears from her eyes.
She looked over at Harry. He was staring down at Dobby's grave, trying to disguise his own tears.
"I have to admit, I didn't exactly think much of Kreacher. Our last few encounters weren't exactly great, and resulted in him insulting me."
Harry sensed there was more to that sentence, so said nothing.
" I'm not sure why, but I find myself feeling really glad for him. He may not be the delightful company, but given time, he may become pleasant."
Sensing she was being humorous, he stole a glance at her, and saw the wry smile curling the corners of her lips. He playfully nudged her with his elbow, and sent her side ways.
"Dobby, you really were amazing. Annoying sometimes, but amazing. I hope Kreacher's letter finds you well. Thanks buddy, see you soon." Harry said, pushing the earth apart enough to place the letter in.
Hermione crouched down, and helped Harry to cover it over. They stood up, took one final look at the grave, and held each other's hands as they slowly made their way to the castle.