61. Lights

Harry's letter was received with alarm. Medical witches were sent to the Dursleys within the hour. He didn't get a chance to learn of Dudley's condition before he was whisked away from the Dursley's home.

Since then, he had been in the ancestral Black home. The work he, Teleute, and Sirius had done on the house made it feel much more welcoming than originally. Rancid and decayed air was replaced with a more stale environment. Though Harry noticed that Sirius hadn't put any personal touches to the house. A shame, the house itself could've been quite lovely.

He and Sirius weren't alone. Several grown witches and wizards would enter and leave the premises. A number of the Weasleys had more extended presences within the house.

Currently, Harry was flicking his wand, mimicking the movements of Mrs. Weasley beside him. Aromas of cooked meats and vegetables permeated through the air. Harry marveled at her skill over household spells. With a simple whirl, she could summon piles of beef and chicken. Strangely, none of the Weasley children seemed interested in said spells.

"That's splendid, Harry dear. You've come quite the ways." Mrs. Weasley's statement was punctuated with a smile and a half hug.

Harry easily returned the smile. It was a pleasant moment. "Thank you for teaching me the spells. It has been enjoyable. Can I help with dinner later?" His voice was hopeful.

"Of course. Now off with you deary. You have a lot of catching up to do with your friends." Mrs. Weasley smiled widely and began placing the finishing touches on the meal.

Harry took his leave of the kitchen and went to the upper levels of the household. His feet brought him to the attic, where much of the dark items of the Blacks had been put away. Guilty as he was to ignore his friends, he couldn't help but wonder about all the magical items being locked away. Previously, he had been preoccupied with Teleute's attire during the clean up to really observe any of the items.

Thickening air alerted him of the concentration of the dark magical items. Harry failed to lower the excitement racing within him at the mere thought of the items. Harry pulled out his wand.

"Lumos." Five orbs of light were expelled from his wand and went to different corners of the room, thus illuminating major portions of the attic. Each orb pulsing pleasantly within his sight, dispelling the foreboding presence of the room.

A small figure shuddered before making an attempt in leaving.

"Wait." Harry was equal parts calm and curious. To his surprise, the figure actually stopped and slowly turned towards him. He recognized the being, it was the house elf of the Black household, Kreacher.

Kreacher was far older than Harry's friend Dobby. Wrinkles marked his face and his back was hunched from both age and weariness. His eyes were dark and joyless.

"You're hurt." Harry observed. Kreacher's hand had fresh welts. He was hesitant to reach out. House elves were ones to grow ever dramatic about their wounds, especially those self-inflicted. "Why were you punishing yourself?"

"Kreacher has nothing to say to a halfblood." Krecher's sneer was almost comically in his diminutive and aged face.

Harry felt little sting from Kreacher's barb. He was sure that the house elf cared little for him as Harry cared little for the house elf.

Leaning near one of his lumos orbs, he questioned, "It's frustrating, isn't it? Working for someone that clearly despises you, that is. Doing things for the benefit of those you don't care is aggravating. I... apologize for Sirius. But can't you try to work with him? You two are all that's left of the Black family."

Kreacher shook with rage, "NO! He is a traitor, a deserter." Ugly, angry tears ran down Kreacher's wrinkled cheeks, "Why does he survive when Master Regulus dies?"

Regulus, he was painful point for Sirius. Apparently, Regulus was the successor the Blacks always wanted. Sirius was merely the failure, the shame of the family, the brother that shouldn't have been.

"Is that why you are punishing yourself? Do you hate serving Sirius so much?" He sighed as Kreacher was silent. Harry pitied the grief filled Kreacher. "Did Regulus have any last words, or request?" The question was said with an ease he did not truly feel. If Regulus was as reproachable as Sirius would have him believe, then the request would be unsavory at best.

But he remembered how much his relatives despised him. For as good a man as Sirius was, he had admitted that he held unto grudges. Time with Dementors did little to alleviate this flaw.

Kreacher shook as if a great chill had overcome him. Hope, anger, fear, and uncertainty marred his expression. As the shaking increased, he pressed against the welts over his hands. Taking an unsteady breath, he spoke, "Master Regulus wished for this to be destroyed. Incompetent Kreacher has failed every attempt to destroy this wicked item."

Harry saw a heavy gold locket labeled with a snake styled S on the front. That was unimportant. What really surprised him was the dark essence clinging to the locket. It was easily the darkest magical item Harry had ever laid his eyes upon. Realization struck him that he wasn't nearly as repulsed by its existence as he should've been. The only thing he could think of was his own curiosity over the locket's creation.

Slowly, he reached for the locket and Kreacher allowed him to grab it. Once his gloved hand touched the locket, a deep crack formed on the its surface.

He pocketed the locket before kneeling down and awkwardly placing his hand over Kreacher's shoulder. "Kreacher, I promise you I will do everything I can to destroy this locket. For Regulus."

"For Master Regulus," Kreacher chocked out.