Harry aged 4
Sirius followed the sound of childish laughter as he made his way down the hallway, pausing outside the drawing-room door. He pushed the door open slightly, smiling at what he saw inside.
Harry was busy dressing Kreacher, who was about the same height as he was, in an assortment of colorful but mismatched clothing. Harry had managed to find an old and rather dusty oversized hat that now sat precariously on Kreacher's head. He was attempting to tie a bright red scarf around the elf's neck. Kreacher stood rather stiffly, his large eyes betraying his annoyance, but he made no move to stop the child. Instead, he endured the indignity with a sort of grim patience.
"Kreacher, you look so funny!" Harry giggled, stepping back to admire his work. "You need one more hat!" he exclaimed.
"Master Harry is very creative," Kreacher muttered, a hint of resignation in his voice. "Kreacher is honored to wear such…colorful attire."
Sirius leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms as he watched the scene unfold. He couldn't help but marvel at the contrast between this Kreacher and the one he'd grown up with. The old elf, who had once been surly and obstinate, now showed a surprising gentleness towards Harry. The little boy's innocent affection seemed to have gradually chipped away at the elf's hardened exterior. Kreacher still grumbled and muttered under his breath, but he also went out his way to indulge the boy's childish whims.
Sirius chuckled softly and stepped into the room. "Having fun, Harry?" he asked, ruffling his godson's messy hair.
Harry beamed up at him. "Look, Sirius! Kreacher's playing dress-up with me!".
Sirius grinned at Kreacher, who gave him a long-suffering look in response. "Yes, I can see that. Kreacher, you're looking quite…festive."
"Kreacher lives to serve the noble house of Black" Kreacher replied with a hint of sarcasm, though his gaze softened as it rested on Harry.
Sirius crouched down to Harry's level, smiling at the boy. "Why don't we give Kreacher a break, hm? He's been a good sport".
Harry nodded enthusiastically. "Okay! Thanks, Kreacher!" He threw his small arms around the eld in a quick hug, making Kreacher stiffen in surprise before awkwardly patting Harry's back.
As Harry scampered off to find some new entertainment, Sirius straightened up and caught Kreacher's eye. "Thank you, Kreacher" he said sincerely, "I know this isn't easy for you, but thank you for being so good to him".
Kreacher adjusted the oversized hat, his expression softening slightly. "Master Harry is…different. He is kind to Kreacher".
Sirius nodded, a lump forming in his throat as he felt a sense of guilt at his own lack of kindness towards the elf in the past. "Yes, he is".
Kreacher gave a curt nod and began to shuffle away, muttering under his breath about cleaning up the mess Harry had left behind. Sirius smiled and shook his head at the muttering, knowing it was Kreacher's way of dealing with the softness he had just shown.
It was but a few days later that Sirius sat in his favorite armchair, the soft glow of the fire creating a cozy atmosphere in the dark evening. He was flipping through an old book when he heard the familiar sound of tiny footsteps and quiet giggles coming from the hallway.
Curious, Sirius put down his book and headed towards the noise. He stopped at the doorway of the library and peeked inside. There, in a corner surrounded by stacks of ancient books, he saw Harry sitting cross-legged on the floor. Kreacher was sat beside him, holding an old, worn-out storybook.
"Kreacher, read it again, please!" Harry pleaded, his green eyes wide with excitement.
Kreacher cleared his throat, clearly trying to maintain his gruff demeanor, but the corners of his mouth twitched into a hint of a smile. "Very well, Master Harry. One more time".
Kreacher opened the book and began to read in his deep, gravelly voice. It was a tale of daring knights and magical creatures, a story that had been told countless times in the Black household. Harry listened with rapt attention, his small hands clutching his knees as he leaned in closer to Kreacher with every word.
Sirius watched from the doorway, remembering the story from his own child, but enjoying it being read by the elf for the first time. He thought back on his own childhood and couldn't imagine the elf having sat down to read him a story.
As Kreacher reached the end of the story, Harry clapped his hands. "That was amazing, Kreacher! You tell the best stories!"
Kreacher bowed his head slightly, a rare look of pride crossing his face. "Kreacher is pleased that Master Harry enjoyed the story."
Harry jumped up and hugged Kreacher tightly. The elf stiffened at first but then awkwardly patted Harry's back, his eyes softening.
Sirius chose that moment to step into the room. "I see you two have been busy," he said with a smile.
Harry turned and ran to Sirius, hugging his leg. "Sirius! Kreacher read me the best story!"
Sirius picked Harry up and settled him on his hip. "Did he now? Well, it sounds like Kreacher has quite the talent."
Kreacher stood, carefully closing the book. "Kreacher is merely doing his duty, Master Sirius."
"More than that, I'd say," Sirius replied, giving the elf a meaningful look. "Thank you, Kreacher. For everything."
Kreacher gave a small nod, his expression unreadable, but there was a glimmer of something that looked like appreciation in his eyes. "Kreacher is always here to serve."
Sirius ruffled Harry's hair "Alright, pup, it's time for bed. Say goodnight to Kreacher."
"Goodnight, Kreacher!" Harry said, waving enthusiastically.
"Goodnight, Master Harry," Kreacher replied, his voice softer than usual.
As Sirius carried Harry up the stairs to his bedroom, he couldn't help but wonder what Kreacher would have been like had he treated the elf like Harry did when he was a child. He had often blamed the elf for their poor relationship, justifying his treatment on the grounds that Kreacher loved his mother too much to feel anything but hatred towards him.
As he gently placed Harry under the covers, tucking him in, Sirius whispered, "Sleep well, kiddo." He brushed a stray lock of hair from Harry's forehead, his heart swelling with affection. For a moment, he simply stood there, watching the steady rise and fall of Harry's chest, a soft smile playing on his lips.
Sirius left the room quietly, closing the door behind him. He made his way back to the library, feeling the warmth of the fire beckoning him. The house was eerily silent, the kind of silence that was both comforting and unnerving. He sat down in his favorite armchair and stared into the flames, his mind wandering back to his childhood.
The Black household had always been a place of strict rules and cold discipline. Kreacher had been a constant presence, always lurking in the shadows, muttering to himself. Sirius had never paid him much mind, seeing him as just another part of the oppressive environment he yearned to escape from. But now, watching Kreacher with Harry, he realized how different things could have been.
"Why didn't I see it before?" Sirius mused aloud. "All those years, and I never gave him a chance."
The fire crackled, filling the silence with its soft, rhythmic pops. Sirius leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes as the memories flooded in. He thought about Regulus, his younger brother, and the way Kreacher had always been fiercely loyal to him. Perhaps, in Kreacher's eyes, Regulus had been the true heir of the Black family, the one who deserved his loyalty.
Sirius sighed, feeling a mixture of sadness and resolve. He couldn't change the past, but he could change the future. He would start by being kinder to Kreacher, by showing him the respect he had denied him for so long.
The next morning, Sirius awoke with a sense of purpose. He found Kreacher in the kitchen, busily preparing breakfast. The elf looked up; his expression wary as Sirius entered the room.
"Good morning, Kreacher," Sirius said warmly.
Kreacher blinked in surprise. "Good morning, Master Sirius."
Sirius sat down at the table, watching as Kreacher moved about with practiced efficiency. "I was thinking," he began, "perhaps we could work together to make this house feel more like a home. For Harry."
Kreacher paused, his hands hovering over a stack of plates. He turned slowly, eyeing Sirius with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. "Kreacher will do whatever Master Sirius commands."
"I'm not commanding," Sirius said gently. "I'm asking. For Harry's sake. He needs us to get along."
Kreacher's eyes softened, and he gave a reluctant nod. "For Master Harry, Kreacher will try."
Sirius smiled. "Thank you, Kreacher."
Over the next few weeks, the household gradually began to change. Sirius and Kreacher worked side by side, cleaning and redecorating, making the once gloomy house feel brighter and more welcoming. Harry was delighted with the transformation, his laughter echoing through the halls as he explored the new spaces.
One evening, as they sat around the dinner table, Harry looked up at Sirius with shining eyes. "Sirius, this is the best spaghetti ever!"
"I'm glad you think so, Harry. Kreacher worked very hard to make it."
Kreacher, standing off to the side, gave a small, almost imperceptible nod of agreement. For the first time, Sirius felt a true sense of camaraderie with the old elf, a bond forged through their shared love for Harry.