Grimmauld Place 12 was quiet and only mildly lid. No one was home at the time. Well, no one who would consider himself a resident anyways.

Kreacher the old house-elf moved through the sitting room, dusting. It would be quite a long time before Lord Black would be home. Kreacher reached up to reach a certain spot. Like always the old elf muttered to himself.

"Kreacher must work hard. House Black must be ready for Heir Black. Master said Heir Black would return in three days. Yes, Heir Black will not be happy if the house isn't in pristine condition. He will make Kreacher sleep with that blanket again."

The elf shuddered thinking about the summer, when his strict and harsh master made him sleep under a blanket in a bed, LIKE A WIZARD! It had been the worst punishment Kreacher had ever taken because he couldn't trust his own mind. Oh yes, it had been comfortable and nice but it was above Kreacher's place to sleep in a bed. To even think those thoughts! Such a shame! Heir Black was a sly one indeed. He kept old Kreacher on his toes and punished even the minor mishaps.

And Kreacher couldn't be happier to have heir Black. Heir Black had brought Lord Blackback and made him see his ungrateful undeserving ways. Oh how bad Kreacher felt to think of this way of Lord Black, but his Lady had said so, so it must be true. Still, Kreacher had secretly snapped his fingers in the door for those thoughts. Of course, Heir Black had noticed, made Kreacher bandage those wounds, sneering at the bruises. As perceptive as he was clever. Such a pride to the house! And not only that. He brought Miss Black back into the house and worked hard to make house Black as noble and outstanding as it once was. In the years after the wonderful Lady Black had died, the house had fallen to rot. Kreacher had no one to get orders from and without orders, what was left of an elf? Should he keep the house up and running? Oh no, Kreacher was a good elf and good elves don't do thinks without an order. That was bad-elf thinking.
"And Kreacher is a good elf, yes, yes he is. And House Black is once again feared and honoured, yes. And Kreacher is too, since being an elf for an honoured house is an honourable position itself, oh yes."

The elf smiled as he brushed his fingers over the sigil on his garment. Wizards didn't know it, but elves did come together, sometimes, on special occasions. Not that house-elves hid it from their masters, but wizards commonly weren't interested in it. The only elves who said their master knew about these events were those from Hogwarts. One of those occasions was always the first full moon after the first leave fell from the trees in Britain. All elves around the country could feel it. They knew them came from twig and leave, from rock and stone and therefore the change of the season resonated in their minds.

On that full moon, elves would come together in the middle of nowhere, at the place where their race was once formed and celebrate their service and the ones who once made them. Not all came together, of course, those who had ordered would not meet. The service was above all after all. But those who had no orders at those nights came there and spoke to each other, sang together.

For years, Kreacher had come there, always being at the side, with the unwanted, with those who served those without noble blood. House Black, his house had been in ruin. Master and Mistress were dead, the Heir was in prison, the second heir had died and the daughters of the second branch had long since married or were in prison themselves. Noe elf had spoken with Kreacher the disgraced, Kreacher the elf without anyone to serve. Only the elf named Dobby had spoken to him, but Kreacher hadn't answered. That elf was even worse. He had been cast out of family and the other elves spat on his feet. But still, Kreacher remembered the words of the free elf, about a boy with raven like hair and eyes green as poison. About the bo who had freed Dobby from bad masters, making Kreacher hiss. Masters couldn't be bad. That elf was crazy. Yet it lingered in him.

This year had been different. Where he had once stood to the side, had once spoken to no one, he now was in the middle of it all. He was, together with one other elf, Mipsy of Greengrass family, the highest elf there. Not only did he serve House Black, a most ancient and noble house, no he also served Harry Potter.

The person of Harry Potter was something the elves were torn about. Some thought of him as the one that was promised, the Master that would come someday and give all the elves their work, would give them THE task that their kind was made for in the beginning. Others thought of him as nothing special. He was not of noble blood and therefore not THE master.

Kreacher for his part was certain. Heir Black might be THE master, he might not be. But he was a good master, a lot like beloved master Regulus. The house-elf missed master Regulus a lot. The younger brother of Lord Black had always been a good master, harsh but firm and also noble in his bearings.

The house-elf blinked surprised when he felt the Floo in the Floo-room activate. House Black wasn't expecting visitors, Kreacher was certain. No one was at home. Lord Black might have forgotten, but Miss Black would never be so neglective to not be at home when visitors were expected.

Kreacher snapped his fingers, making the duster disappear and took a moment in front of one of the Mirrors in the sitting room to make sure his attire was spotless. Nodding his old head to himself, Kreacher popped from the sitting room to the Floo-room. Wizards had never figured out how the house-elves could move like that in, out and around the house without delay. They never understood that the elves were part of the house as much as a chair or a lamp.

The olf elf was just in the room to see Lord Black, like so often wearing some dark green robes, helped up Heir Black from the floor. The noble heir had many many virtues but he missed the grace of a well-performed Floo entrance.

Kreacher bowed deeply before the Master and the Heir, his nose brushing against the floorboards. He saw his own eyes reflecting from the floor as Kreacher noticed with grim satisfaction. He had cleaned the room just yesterday.

"Lord Black and Heir Black, welcome home." The elf spoke, still bowed. Lord Black brushed his hair out of his face. He nodded.

"Ah good, Kreacher. Ready some meal for me and Harry, would you? Cissy will be late today I think."

The elf bowed even deeper. "Of course, Lord Black, right away." He raised his head and looked into the warm green eyes of Heir Black.

"Thank you, Kreacher." The boy said, and Kreacher bowed again, smiling a little. Carrot and Stick, Heir Black knew how to use them both. With a pop, Kreacher disappeared from the room and Sirius sighed, stretching his back.

"Ahhh, I think I hurt myself while I ran from Minnie." He said rubbing his lower back. Harry chuckled.

"Getting old Pads." He said, smirking. He dodged the swatting hand, chuckling, while he held one hand around Dawn, careful not to knock her of his shoulder in his sudden move.

Sirius grinned at him. "Prat. I'm not old, I'm in my prime!"

Harry snorted again. "Sure thing. You do notice that you got grey hair on your head right?"

Sirius gripped his long hair, holding his in front of his face, before throwing them over his shoulder, shrugging.

"Oh, that's just that. The ladies do like it. Jasmin said it makes me look classy." He turned up his nose. Harry chuckled shaking his head.

"Yeah? What do you think will Madam Bones say, when I tell her about that?"

Sirius had the decency to pale a little. "Careful Prongslet. Melia's wrath is nothing to joke about. I hope you want to keep your godfather for a while." But he still held a little smile on his face.

Harry flinched only a little. Between the two of them, they had enough mental baggage that conversation was a minefield sometimes.

"You know I would never mean you harm Padfoot." He said, rubbing Dawn's belly for comfort. Sirius cheeky smiled melted from his face, replaced by a warm but sad look. He stepped closer, putting his arm around Harry's shoulders.

"I know pup. I know."

Harry put his arm around his godfather, hugging him close for some time.

For a minute they just stood there, hugging each other, before Sirius slowly pulled back.

"How about we get you sorted out and then get something to eat. Kreacher will be ready in a while anyways."

Harry nodded and moved to the door. Then he turned with a cheeky smile his head around. "How about I get a new broom and I forget what you just told me about Lady Zabini?"

"Prat!" A cushion followed the cry and Harry's laughter once again filled the house on Grimmauld Place 12.

He swirled his wand mindlessly between his fingers, back and forth back and forth. While his fingers were playing his mind was not. He was thinking about quite a few matters, from complex magical patterns to a new ward system he had thought about in the last few years up to his followers. Only a few had yet arrived, mostly minor underlings. He had accepted their swears of loyalty once more, waving them away into the far corners of the house rather quickly. Those were common people, mobsters, thieves or plain stupid people.

He did speak with Crabbe for a while but while the man was a noble lord and of pure blood, he was none the less a Crabbe and that was a house that wasn't famous for its intellect.

No, he waited for others, his most loyal. He waited for his inner circle. They were his most faithful, his most loyal. Each of them had his or her own flaws but they also had their strength, more powerful than others, his seconds in command. Barty, who was utterly devoted but had also a vast knowledge of charms and what the light could bring to bear. Dolohov, a magical powerhouse, not refind but strong and capable. Augustus, the former Unspeakable, who had dabbled in many mysteries and esoteric topic, his knowledge almost as vast as Voldemorts own. Severus, the single most talented potion master in Britain, maybe the world. His expertise was quite useful, even though the Dark Lord always was a little careful around the cold man. His mind withstood even his own penetration and he was only of half-blood.

And then there was Bellatrix, wonderful Bella. His right hand. His executioner. The house of Black had taught her so much in her childhood. Such wonderful and gruesome spells. Such a strong mind. And yet she was fully devoted to him. Whatever he told her, Bella did. Kill a mudblood? With pleasure. Fight the Aurors? She loved to. Give away her body to recruit some uncertain pureblood? Bella did what her lord told her to. Yes, she had been a little unstable but not with him.

Voldemort swirled around his wand once more, tapping his chin with his index finger. He would need to get his most loyal out of their prison. Be it Azkaban or in Severus case Hogwarts. But there was time. He heard shuffling near the door. Alecto stood there, nervously a person next to her. It was a man, Voldemort saw that in the way he stood, even though a cloak hid his face. Alecto and the newcomer bowed deeply.

"Mylord, one of your followers has arrived." The woman spoke, only flinching when Voldemort waved her off. She quickly retreated and closed the door behind herself. Nagini slithered from the hearth to him, as the man kneeled on the floor removing his hood.

"My Lord." Lucius Malfoy whispered, bowing his head deeply. His blond hair fell down his face as he placed his wand in front of the Dark Lord, to show his loyalty. His Lords form didn't move as he bowed there.

"Lucius." Voldemort whispered slowly like he was testing the name. The blond nobleman had been his servant quite early and he had the ambition to rise in the ranks, but never was part of the inner circle and there was the reason for that. Voldemort respected power and not the kind Lucius wilded. Yes, he understood the benefits of political strength and also what money could do, but he didn't trust it.

And the blond man was inclined in those. He knew how to manipulate and bribe his way out of hell, but then he wasn't a very powerful wizard, magically speaking. Even Severus, who never was a duelist, was stronger than the man. But there was another reason Voldemort never trusted the man. Well, he didn't trust anybody completely, but this man was a silver-tongued lier. He was in his service not because he believed in the dark lord but because it suited him. Not that the Malfoy Lord ever said so and his mind was guarded enough to not show it, but Tom was adapt in reading people since he had been young. Lucius Malfoy served only one man truly and that man was himself. It was something the Dark Lord had suspected long enough but showed when he immediately called Imperius after the war. Quirrel had told him quite a bit about that when they had shared a head for a while.

Lucius bowed his head again. "It is a pleasure to see you well my Lord. It is an honour to once again serve your will" Lie, Voldemortknew it. But then again why would he care about it.

"Is that so Lucius? Then why is it that you, who claimes to serve my will, take almost two hours to answer my call? What did you deem more important than your master's order?"

Lucius paled a little but he shook his head. "Please forgive your humble servant, my lord. I was with the Minister when your call came and couldn't leave that easily."

Voldemort leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. "So you are telling me, the Minister is more important than calls from your master?"

Lucius shook his head, his blond hair flying around. "No of course not my lord."

Voldemorts wand lashed out, cutting him on the upper arm. Deep. Now that he looked at the man closer, he saw a faint scar across his handsome face that hadn't been there before.

"You think you know better than me Lucius?" Nagini was hissing, sensing his anger.

Malfoy threw himself off the floor, wincing at his hurt upper arm. "Please forgive me my lord and let me explain."

The dark lord still held his wand out, blinking slowly. "Speak fast servant, my patience is short."

Malfoy quickly pulled himself up and clutched his burning shoulder.

"My lord, I have in the past years worked hard to get the ear of the minister and more. He has taken quite a few 'gifts' from me over time, looking away and being more inclined to our goals as it was. I couldn't jeopardize that position, in case we would need me the in the future."

Voldemort narrowed his eyes. That was in fact useful. To have the ministry under his control, at least for a certain time, would be valuable to him. There was a reason he didn't announce his return to power openly just yet. Being perceived as dead had its merits for a time. Still.

"Why would I care for your bribery in any way or form Lucius? Do you think Lord Voldemort is not capable to subdue the Ministry?"

Lucius paled again. "Of course not my lord. No one can challenge you. I merely hoped to help you in any way shape or form that would please you."

Voldemort put his wand away huffing. "I don't need your help, Lucius."

The blond man rose to his feet. "Of course not my lord, but I will continue to try."

Voldemort waved his hand and one of the chairs flew over for him to sit on. Lucius sat down eagerly, licking his lips.

"Tell me, servant. What news do you bring?"

Lucius smiled widely and it was genuine in nature, the Dark Lord noticed.

"The old foul, Dumbledore has been neglective."

Voldemort raised an eyebrow. "How come?"

Lucius smiled. "This morning, the Minister ordered his arrest."

Voldemort raised his head from his balled-up fist, looking now really surprised. "Oh is that so? Pray to tell, how did Albus Dumbledore, leader of the light, get himself arrested?"

Lucius licked is lips nervously. "That my Lord I don't know. Fudge didn't want to speak about it in detail, saying it would be the end of the old man for certain. The minister had been with Dumbledoreforlong but ever since the whole Black thing came to pass, he seemed to distance himself from the old fool."

Voldemort nodded. "Crabbe spoke of that when he spoke to me. He said that that stupid boy took the Black seat. How much control do you still have in the Wizengamot."

Lucius shifted slightly. "Not as much as I used to. Black has allied himself with Lord Greengrass. Together they mostly lord over the Chamber these days. They aren't all-powerful but it is a lot more difficult to get certain laws to pass. They control a decent amount of votes in the chamber. We had to water our policy down to curb that problem."

Voldemort nodded. The supremacy of the most ancient and noble houses was known to him. Yet for Greengrass to come out of his neutral spot and get himself together with Dumbledores lap dog was surprising.

"And how do you think that this would help with Dumbeldores...fate?" He smiled at the end of his sentence. Lucius returned the smile.

"Oh my lord I think there are a few things. For one, Dumbeldore and Black had a falling out. I don't know why and how, but they are not on each other's good side. Fudge is planning on prosecuting Dumbeldore as a civil court case, therefor it wouldn't be the Wizengamot that hands out the judgement but three judges. The minister asked me already to part take. But more than anything, I think we won't see Black in the Chamber in the future." Now he had the smile of a shark. Voldemort waved his hand, not taking the bait. After a moment of silence, Lucius smirked.

"He will be at home mostly. His precious godson and heir had tried to take his own life, chaining Black to his home at least for a while. I already push the minister to move fast, arguing that it is dangerous to leave Dumbledore anywhere but Azkaban."

Voldemort raised surprised his head. "Potter tried to kill himself?" Was the old fool trying to rob him of his polar? Voldemort always suspected the goat knew about his plans. The time when the Potters went into hiding was to convenient to not be part of this.

"Yes, the stupid boy wanted to end his life at least what the Prophet said. My son Draco confirmed that he didn't show up to class the entire week. Also, he reported that Black was in the castle, obviously tending to the brat." Voldemort frowned. This wouldn't do. He needed the boy alive for his plan to work. While he was powerful, Voldemort knew that fighting without the ritual would be dangerous. Every time he crossed wands with the old goat, it had been close and dangerous. But then again, he now had new plans and ideas. Maybe he didn't need Harry Potter, after all, still to think this child could spit him, drew his wrath. The boy would be dealt with. But not now. The opportunity of Dumbledore gone would be nice, but the Dark Lord had his own plans. He might have found the right tool, but getting there would be difficult and take time. But in the end, Lord Voldemort always gets what he wants.

"See that Dumbeldore is convicted. Buy who needs to be bought to ensure it."

Lucius blinked then he frowned, lightly sweating. "Yes my Lord, yet that will be harder than before."

Voldemort tilted his head, pulling forth his wand again. "And why would that be?"

Lucius shot from his chair kneeling in front of his again. "My lord, when Black rose to power, he took the Black seat that was rightfully my sons. Since she was of no use, I cut off my ex-wife after that, but Black blindsided me and pulled her dowery from my fault."

Voldemort snorted, raising his wand higher. "Why should I care for your money-grubbing Lucius?"

Lucius pressed his forehead against the floorboard, nervous. The dark Lord was more unstable than before eager to let his wand speak. He licked his lips once more. "The dowery was quite large, it cut my assets down quite a bit."

Voldemort lashed down his wand and Lucius screamed in pain when the agony of a Cruciatus Curse hit his veins. "I don't care for your coin counting and excuses servant! I order and you obey. Get this done and I don't care if you sell your last boot for it. Dumbledore discredited would do well for us. Get that done and you will be awarded. If not...Crucio!"

Again white-hot pain wrecked the blond's body and he thrashed around on the floor for a full minute before the Dark Lord finally lifted his wand again. Lucius laid on the floor not moving for a while, breathing heavily and trying to get his body under control again.

"I...I will do as y-you command my L-Lord." He stuttered out. He was already thinking. He would pick up marriage with the Flint-girl after all.

A knock on the door made them stop, looking at it. Alecto pulled it open and there stood two people next to her.

"You may leave Lucius." The dark Lord said with a smile. He saw that his words alone send a quiver through one of the two newcomers. The person stepped into the room in swift strides, ignoring the retreating Lucius completely.

"My beloved lord." The Person said with a quivering voice, tears running down her cheeks. "After so long, to finally hear your voice again. Like angels singing." Her smile was wide, showing that she was missing some teeth. Throwing herself to the floor, the woman placed her head over his bare feet and kissed his toes. "My master! Finally, I can be at your side again. Command me and I will serve you with everything I got! My body, my wand, my mind, my soul are yours to command!"

Voldemort smiled benevolent as the second person also stepped closer, kneeling down but with more dignity, still the man raised his head, showing his throat instead of bowing his head. A part of the animal in his mind, his own way of showing his subservient nature to his alpha.

"My Alpha, you have returned." The gruff voice simply said.

Voldemort nodded, while he placed his hand on the rat's nest that was the hair of his female follower.

"Fenrir, yes I have returned to you once more."

Again the female shivered at the sound of his voice, kissing his feet with more vigour. Her lips were dry and broken, but still, the gesture was what the Dark Lord cared about.

"And you, my most loyal." The shivering intensified as he caressed the top of her head. "My dead, lovely Bella."

Bellatrix Lestrange shivered in delight at the feeling of her master's fingers in her hair, of his voice in her ears, of his smell on her nose. This what she had dreamed for twelve years. To return to her master's side. When her dark mark had burned she had screamed in agony and bliss, knowing the time of waiting was over. Finally!

"My master!" She whispered with pure love.

Harry sighed when he sat down on his bed. His eyes swept over the room and a smile appeared on his face. He had missed his room. The deep red wallpapers, the golden lion heads on the dresser. His hand brushed over the covers trailing the pattern of flowers. Dawn fluttered over from the pillow and landed next to his fingers. She blinked at him, tilting her head slightly and cooed softly. Harry smiled lifting his hand and brushing through her feathers.

"Hey, there little one." He whispered and the phoenix rubbed her head against his palm, cooing gleeful. Harry scooped her up and held her to his chest.

"You like being home too, right?" He said whispering into her feathers. The creature fluttered her wings, rubbing against Harry. He felt her content through the bond, while she was nibbed his nose a little with her beak. The little lady enjoyed the home and showed it. Nibbling his nose again, she hopped off his hands and dashed over the covers.

Harry laughed slightly and climbed on the bed. "Oh, you get it now." He said, his hands reaching out to tickle the small bird. Dawn's chirping almost sounded like laughter as she evaded the prying hands and hopped over Harry's arm, dashing away, with her wings spread. Harry whirled around, trying to follow but his leg entangled with the covers and he dropped on his back. Instantly Dawn jumped on his chest, starting to headbutt him against it in soft motions. Harry spread his arms, grinning.

"I yield I yield." He called out with a smile on his face and the phoenix shuffled closer, sitting proudly on his chest. Harry sighed and corrected his lopsided glasses. His hand returned toDawns feathers and petted and tickled her. She was getting larger by the day and he once again noticed how big she was already. When she had born, he had been able to hold her in one hand. Now Dawn was filling both of his hands, having the size of a dove. And if Ember and Fawkes were any measures, she would grow more. But the book he had gotten from Dumbledore said the growth would slow down. Getting to the full size would take years. She would only grow a little more until her first burning day. Harry wasn't sure if he liked to think about his companion burning and being reborn. He was glad Dawn was really hard to kill due to that but still. Phoenixes could die when meeting enough force or something really nasty. Harry's respect to Fawkes who had fought a giant basilisk without showing any fear had grown after reading that. That creature would have been able to kill Dumbledores familiar and even the thought of it made Harry feel bad.

Just thinking he might one day lose his companion was something made him want to hurl. Dawn stopped her fidgeting, looking down into his eyes, as she felt his mood swing. Molten gold met emerald. Harrysmiledasad smile and raised his head to kiss her chest feathers.

"I will not let anything happen to you, sweety." He suddenly had the thought that these must have been the same feelings his parents had felt after his birth. The sad smile broadened, when he thought about it. He knew his parents loved him, Sirius and all the others had told him many times but still, it was different understanding those feelings of love and protectiveness. Dawn huddled closer and chirped, showing she was agreeing with him.

A soft popping noise made Harry turn his head. Upside down, he saw Kreacher standing near the door. Turning around and sitting up, Harry looked at the elf.

"Is dinner ready?" He asked softly, holding Dawn still to his chest. Kreacher bowed, nodding.

"Yes, dinner is ready Heir Black."

Harry rose to his feet. But Kreacher didn't move but instead looked up at Harry with uncertainty.

"Is something wrong Kreacher?" He asked, sitting down again and gesturing the house-elf closer. Kreacher inched a little but not much.

"Kreacher has been a bad elf heir Black, sir. Kreacher needs to be punished."

Harry sighed, rubbing his forehead. This again. "What happened?"

"Kreacher has thought bad about Heir Black." The elf mumbled out, fingering the edge of his coat. Harry raised an eyebrow in surprise. The house-elf had been telling him many things over the time that he thought deemed punishment. Minor accidents or falling short on a deadline by even seconds.

But not once had the elf said something like this. Harry rose from the bed and kneeled next to the elf. Dawn perched on his shoulder. Harry didn't reach out, knowing the elf was uncomfortable with body contact. Kreacher looked down.

"Lord Black told Kreacher that Heir Black tried to end his own life. Kreacher can't stop himself being mad at Heir Blck for that."

Harry blinked in surprise. "You are mad at me because I tried that?"

Kreacher nodded and gripped for his ear ready to punish himself before he stopped himself, remembering his orders. "Yes. Before Heir Black came to House Black, the noble and honourable House was in ruin. It's Lord was in prison and at odds with his family. The second son, the noble Master Regulus, was dead as was my dear Mistress and Master. The cousins of my lord were married, imprisoned and tossed from the family tree."

Kreacher looked up at Harry. "But Heir Black changed all that. Changed House Black and made it great again, strong and respectful. His ways are different but Kreacher, once a disgrace for the elves is now a good elf again. It doesn't do for House Black for Heir Black to leave the house. It would fall apart without Heir Black and Kreacher doesn't want that."

The elf looked down, shamed by his actions. Harry smiled nodding.

"I understand Kreacher. Don't worry, that was a mistake I made and I will not repeat it. There are too many people who would be saddened by it and I include you in that."

Kreacher looked up again. "Heir Black means it?"

Harry nodded and Dawn seemed to bat her wings in agreement. Kreacher sighed in relief.

"Thank you, Heir Black, for saying this to Kreacher." Harry smiled standing up. The elf looked up.

"Kreacher still needs to be punished, Kreacher did wrong." He said with watery eyes. Harry shook his head.

"No, you were right thinking that way. It was right and therefore you will not be punished, I order this."

Kreacher seemed to be thinking for a moment, then bowed again to Harry. "Kreacher lives to serve House Black."

"Shall we go and see if Sirius ate all the food already?" He asked with a smirk. Kreacher bowed.

"Kreacher thinks that is highly unlikely since Kreacher hid the food to prevent that."

Harry smirked. "Getting sneaky?"

The elf for the first time since Harry knew him showed something like a smile. "Kreacher does what Kreacher can."

Harry actually laughed at that and the elf was content to hear that sound in the house again. Then he remembered something.

"Heir Black?"

"Yes, Kreacher?" The boy looked at the elf, who returned his gaze with an unreadable look.

The elf pulled something from his coat and handed it to Harry.

"Lord Black asked Kreacher to find this and hand it to Heir Black."

Harry stared at the object in his hands for a whole minute not saying anything. His eyes watered and his lips trembled as he carefully turned the object, feeling it. He even lifted it to his nose and took a deep breath, holding the breath and then sighing. Tears ran down his face. Carefully he set the object down on the bed, wiping his eyes.

"Thank you, Kreacher. Let's get dinner." He said, sniffing a little. The elf bowed.

"Of course Heir Black." And they moved out of the room.

Behind them on the edge of the bed sat a plushy with a singed ear, a black dog that looked a little worn.

It was home again.

Done and I promise that was the last chapter about someone reacting to Harrys suicide. Kreacher had wormed his way into my heart and therefore I wanted him to react.

The stuffed dog is, of course, the one Sirius gifted him for his birth and I wanted Kreacher to hand it over. There isn't a lot to say about this chapter really, because Kreacher is a simple character yet I enjoy writing him.

I also enjoy writing Voldemort. I hope I did a good job with the whole "I don't like Lucius but I need him" kind of thing. I can't imagine Voldemort caring about money or something like that. Also I like when Lucius gets his shit so I thought he could get shit from his boss too.

Bella is finally with her love again. We will see more of her and her crazy ideas don't worry.

Next up, Dumbledores trial