Chapter 64: Bloodletting
Kreacher got a letter regarding weekend plans from Millicent the next day while Master Regulus was sleeping. An owl tapped on the bedroom window, startling both elf and phoenix a bit. It was just after lunch. At the sound, Mortis's dark head came up quickly from where it was bent to his chest, preening the thick feathers there. Kreacher lowered the book he was reading on the magical characteristics of various woods as he glanced suspiciously at the window. "Who ever could that be, Kreacher wonders," he murmured to the bird, slowly inching toward the window. In spite of his much improved health and good spirits, he caught himself walking in that old familiar hunched fashion his body had adopted over the years from weariness and emotional pain. It seemed that uncertainty could regress him back to that state, at least to an extent. Sensing his concern, Mortis launched off the bed, black wings spread wide as he coasted toward Kreacher to hover just behind him. The presence of the black phoenix was comforting in case there was an issue of any sort. After Master Regulus was gone, Kreacher always felt alone and without backup. Even when the Mistress still lived, Kreacher felt alone and vulnerable without Master Regulus's reassuring existence that had always given him the inherent sense of true companionship and the security that went along with it. With Mortis present, though, Kreacher felt far less alone even if the bird could not directly communicate with him. "Whatever it is, we must protect Master Regulus," Kreacher continued in that same low murmur, half to himself, half to the phoenix. As he leaned to peak around the curtain in an attempt to identify the persistent tapping sound at the window, Mortis drew even closer in an obvious show of support. "It's just an owl," Kreacher said, and hastily opened the window.
They did get mail, just not often. If Albus, Wolfgang or Severus wrote, it came through Elphias Doge's mail drop and the man gave it to them. Rarely did they get mail at their own window. Kreacher knew it was silly, but a tiny part of him, or perhaps the part was not so tiny, dreaded to see a note from The Dark Lord, perhaps written in blood, stating that they were done for. When the letter was only from Millicent instead, the elf gave a sigh of relief. How could he have forgotten that the girls had promised to get in touch regarding weekend plans, Kreacher wondered, feeling a little silly for his initial trepidation. The letter was brief and to the point, which seemed to be Millicent's way.
Kreacher,
During the summer, a lot of us in our group met at Hogwarts to practice dueling and such for protection. We learned a lot from Grindelwald, Professor Flitwick and Wolfgang among others. Kereston thought you may like seeing some of the spells we learned in case you run into trouble so if you want to do that Saturday, we can do that. If you aren't interested, we'll come up with something else. Just let me know.
Millicent
Kreacher considered for a moment, because he'd never really studied wizarding spells. Elf magic was so different. But as Millicent said, he may be in danger soon, and in some ways, he was ready. With Master Regulus returned, at least half of him was vengeful now rather than his former state of afraid and broken. Being even more prepared, though, could only help. Nodding to himself he left the window open so that the owl would know he planned to respond to the letter, and as such remain where it was perched on the sill. He hurried over to the small desk in the corner of the room that he shared with Master Regulus to write Millicent back that the idea was a good one. When Master Regulus woke at sunset a few hours later, Kreacher showed him the letter as soon as he'd had a moment to rise and get dressed.
"I could tell you were excited about something," Regulus said, giving the elf a fond smile as Mortis sprang to his shoulder. The bird's glossy black feathers stood out like living night against the potion green robe Regulus had chosen for the evening. "It sounds as though you will have an interesting time. When you return, you can teach me what you learned if you don't mind."
"Kreacher does not mind. If Master Regulus wishes to learn what Grindelwald taught everyone, Kreacher shall show him." It was a pity that Master Regulus had to slumber in the dark most days. He could miss out on a great deal as a great deal took place during the day. Still Kreacher considered it a worthy trade if giving up the day kept Master Regulus alive and with him.
"Thank you," Regulus said, bending to kiss him before opening the door to the bedroom. "I figured if we get the evening's hunt out of the way, the rest of the night can be ours." That husky note of promise in Regulus's voice effected Kreacher as deeply as the tantalizing contact of his mouth on Kreacher's own. He felt his very ears twitching with anticipation as he followed Regulus from the room. Sadly the hunt was uneventful and they found no Death Eaters. Though he was not the one ending their lives, the idea of one less wizard to aid The Dark Lord in the end did soothe Kreacher's soul. Master Regulus had to settle for a Muggle criminal, though, and that did nothing for Kreacher's soul what so ever. While Muggles could at least serve a worthy function as Master Regulus's sustenance, the idea of poor dear Master Regulus ingesting Muggle blood was mildly abhorrent to the elf. When they returned home, Dora was in Doge's parlor playing the piano. Her mood was melancholic and as such not very talkative so Regulus and Kreacher only listened to a few songs, remaining quiet so as not to disturb her, before drifting upstairs. When Dora was in that state, she truly did not care who was about or who went away.
"It's probably about that bloody Marius," Regulus complained with a sigh once the bedroom door had closed behind them. "I had to hear about him over the years at least half as much as she had to hear about you." As he spoke, Regulus gave Kreacher a sadly unapologetic smile that did not touch his blue eyes. While the elf was pleased to have been missed during Regulus's foolishly self-imposed exile, he hated seeing that look of such jarringly deep sadness. "Marius may be her maker, but he doesn't treat her properly," Regulus grumbled, and Kreacher was glad for the shift of focus away from Master Regulus's own issues. "He only wants her when he wants her and when he does not want her he is throwing her over for...well many others," Regulus said, lips curling in well bred disgust. "He has flavors of the month, none of which he treats well. It bloody turns my stomach! And she has put up with this for thousands of years! Two thousand of them to be vaguely precise."
"Miss Dora deserves to be treated properly," Kreacher said sincerely. He liked Miss Dora very much and would never forget how she had saved and looked after his Master Regulus. "Should we punish him, does Master Regulus think," Kreacher wondered eagerly.
"Trust me, the idea is tempting. With us having magic, and him not, it would be very simple to teach him a lesson or four. Alas, Dora would be beside herself if we did."
"Perhaps Miss Dora should consider the possibility that this Marius will behave better if he is magically...reprimanded," Kreacher persisted mildly. "He thinks he shall speak to Miss Dora about it when she is again receptive." That should be in a few days. Her moods could fluctuate but the world around her interested her too much to allow her to remain withdrawn for too terribly long.
Regulus's lips twitched. "You do that!" He sat on the edge of the bed and gently drew Kreacher into his arms. "If anyone can persuade her to be at all logical when it comes to that man, it's you," he murmured before claiming Kreacher's mouth with his own.
Kreacher made a small sound of glad surrender as he leaned into Regulus. The fire that sprang up between them at the slightest touch had not faded in the least over the years. In fact, at times, it seemed to Kreacher to grow even stronger. Regulus's touch caused him to go all hard yet all jelly at the same time only in different places. His breath came faster as the feel of Regulus ignited him. As the kiss deepened, Kreacher wrapped himself needily around Regulus, pushing him back onto the bed. When at last he had to break their kiss for air, he urged Regulus's face toward his own neck, arching up to expose his throat with a near growl of need. Rather than biting him, though, Regulus merely trailed soft kisses down Kreacher's neck as he rose to tug at his robes. "I want you inside of me for that," Regulus breathed.
His eyes were glazed with need in a way that made Kreacher feel like the most special, important person in the world...But...he wanted Regulus to drink from him at that moment even more than he wanted full skin to skin contact. Pushing Regulus firmly back to the bed, Kreacher straddled him, clutching his head and dragging it up to his own throat. The temptation of Kreacher's racing pulse was too much for the vampire to resist, just as Kreacher had known it would be. Regulus gave a sigh of defeat, then drove his fangs into Kreacher's neck, clutching the elf's waist to draw him closer. "Yes, Master Regulus," Kreacher cried, as the delicious sensation of Regulus drawing his blood swept over his entire body. He made a few more inarticulate sounds of encouragement, writhing shamelessly against Regulus in utter ecstasy. The intoxicating ride of decadent sensory overload was always short, but so very good. When the vampire gently withdrew his fangs from Kreacher's neck, the elf was entirely limp, eyes rolled back and happily glazed. As he drifted in a happy haze, Kreacher thought he heard Master Regulus muttering something about not getting his because Kreacher was too impatient to do it properly. "Just give Kreacher a moment or two to collect himself," he managed. "He is more than ready and eager to...do it properly." Picturing himself sliding into Master Regulus while those delicious fangs pierced his throat again had him stirring even sooner than he expected. Kreacher dragged himself upright, a small smirk curving his lips. Yes indeed, Kreacher was a good elf, always ready to serve.