Chapter 6, Be Careful What You Wish For
Walburga thought more than once over the next few months that it was a twisted blow of fate that she now had a child to raise. Her best friend's child. That was not what she had wanted! She wished to scream this to the heavens over and over, but doing so would draw Kreacher's attention, and upsetting that child was the last thing she ever wanted to do.
Fortunately Kreacher did not ask often about his parents, being happy and distractable as a rule. Orion began teaching him to write soon after the accident and this kept his little active mind occupied for some weeks. It began when he wandered into Orion's study while Orion was writing a letter to his father. Intrigued by the quill and ink making pretty marks on the parchment, Kreacher asked what the letter's meant so Orion decided to begin teaching him.
Scooping Kreacher up, he sat the little elf right on his desk, setting a fresh quill and parchment before him. "If a child is interested, he should always be allowed to learn," Orion said. Walburga agreed. The busier Kreacher was, the longer it would take him to really begin to miss his parents. Eventually he did wonder where they were, but it was easy for Walburga to satisfy him with a vague answer.
Of course were Kreacher unhappier in their company, he would surely persist in attempting to discover when his parents would return, but Orion and Walburga basically allowed him to do whatever he liked so long as it was safe for him to do so. Walburga had been quite clear, for example, that Kreacher was never to use the stove without her present to supervise. The image of him climbing into a slowly heating pot that Hagatha had painted so well, had remained lodged in Walburga's mind like a perfect work of horror art. She understood well that Kreacher needed close supervision, being such a curious daring child for his age.
At last, a few months after the tragic accident, Kreacher could no longer be distracted by other things. Insistently he asked where his parents were and why they had left him for so long. Though she'd known this day would come, her stomach twisted as it sank, a lump rising in her throat. Walburga gently explained that Hagatha and Balthazar had to go away to heaven. She explained that they trusted Orion and Walburga to look after Kreacher and give him the very best. As she spoke, she forced herself not to burst into tears. It was one of the hardest efforts of her life thus far.
This was not about her, though. It was about Kreacher and he was too young. Too young to understand what she did not even understand, which was why his parents had died in the first place. Kreacher was more confused than grief stricken, but when Walburga hugged him close, he returned her embrace and professed that Kreacher loved Mistress very much. Things went on; life went on. Kreacher and Walburga made meals together until Kreacher gradually took over as he aged. Clearly he was not impressed with Walburga's culinary efforts, though he always attempted politeness on the matter. By the time he was seven or so, he was cooking on his own so proficiently that Walburga even allowed him to use the stove unsupervised.
At last she was confident that he would not climb into a boiling pot. He was still so small that it saddened her heart to see him doing the work of an adult elf, but he enjoyed it and gained such a sense of self importance that she did not have the heart to stop him. Other elves did not agree though. Whenever the family accompanied Cygnus to visit the Lestranges, for example, Corvus and Esmay's house elf Jackdaw had no patience with Kreacher coming into his kitchen and trying to literally improve his methods for doing basically everything. Jackdaw would toss Kreacher out of the kitchen repeatedly, and the little elf would persistently return if Walburga did not physically restrain him. As he was the same age as Cygnus's Bellatrix and Corvus's Rodolphus, Walburga asked them to play with him whenever the families got together.
"Keep him entertained with whatever games you are playing," she instructed. Bellatrix and Rodolphus were mildly dubious, seeing how persistent Kreacher was in his kitchen interests, but they were good children and did as instructed. This worked for brief bouts. Cygnus's two younger daughters were more into dolls and dresses, but Bellatrix enjoyed playing at dueling with Rodolphus and the two ran outside often. Kreacher was reluctant to play at dueling until Bellatrix assured him that it was perfectly fine that he was stronger than them and could easily defeat them with his elf magic. She claimed that it gave them practice and Rodolphus gravely agreed. The two were sensible rather than prideful, and this should take them far, Walburga thought. They took Kreacher's greater power as a challenge and welcomed it.
Kreacher, on the other hand, felt more challenged by the prospect of invading and then improving Jackdaw's kitchen so his attention was not held by dueling for very long at a stretch. Eventually he would slyly suggest that the three of them retreat inside for a snack, thus allowing him access to the kitchen. Jackdaw was a no nonsense sort, though, and Kreacher's persistent efforts were always thwarted. Walburga and Orion always had to hear about how vexing and closed minded Jackdaw was being not to want his kitchen and cooking methods improved. To gently suggest that perhaps Jackdaw did not need his methods or kitchen improved and that each elf's style was equally valid only won one an incredulous look from Kreacher before he launched into explaining why of course this was incorrect.
The only recourse was to have Bellatrix and Rodolphus keep Kreacher occupied with whatever games they were playing at family gatherings. When this failed, Jackdaw would have to fend for himself which the Lestrange elf seemed well equipped to do. Eventually Kreacher had more to keep him busy and thus out of the kitchens of other elves at family gatherings, because Walburga at last had her first son when the elf was ten years of age. They named him Sirius Orion Black, and he was a strong hansom lad. Also an angry one! Walburga had never seen a baby cry so much! He cried tears of rage, small fists clenched as his wide open mouth screamed his fury at the heavens. No matter how she rocked or fed or sang to him, he was rarely pleased for long. Certain that he had to be ill or in pain to scream and cry so constantly, she and Orion had sent for healers more than once, but each time they insisted that the babe was healthy. He certainly seemed strong in his movements and in his screams, but if he was healthy, the reason for this behavior was beyond perplexing. Walburga and Orion weren't alone in their perplexed state either.
"Did Kreacher cry this much when he was a baby," the elf asked incredulously one evening as Walburga attempted to eat dinner while rocking a screaming Sirius at the table.
Tiredly she shook her head. "Not so much." The thought pained her, though, because it reminded her once again that her friend was not here to share this experience with her. Often she wondered what Hagatha would've thought of a baby who rarely stopped crying and screaming. Would she have words of wisdom or simply consider herself fortunate instead to have only had a child who insisted upon getting into everything? "Be careful what you wish for," Walburga muttered dourly to herself as she sat tiredly rocking a screaming six week old Sirius. There. She'd said it. She had longed for a child for so long, and now that she at last had one, motherhood felt nothing like she'd imagined it would. She bit back a hysterical laugh at a far too vivid mental image of Hagatha suggesting that the child could encounter a bad case of sudden infant death syndrome. Though she would never do such a thing, she wished she felt more guilty for the thought. How she missed her friend and the amusingly mad things that came out of her mouth. Poor Hagatha. And as Sirius let out another rage filled scream, poor Walburga!
It took Walburga a few months to notice Kreacher's silence through the din of her own new infant's screams. She felt dreadful that she hadn't noticed Kreacher's new withdrawn state sooner. Well perhaps she had noticed the lack of conversation or questions from the precocious elf, but she hadn't truly registered it enough to contemplate it's reason or find it alarming. When had she had time, though? Sirius took up so much time and energy and yet it was still never enough. She only began getting enough sleep when Kreacher asked permission to attempt a sleep spell on Sirius.
When it actually worked, keeping the child at his slumber for nearly nine hours, she begged Kreacher to place the spell on him nightly. Only then did she have time to consider the little elf's strange silence. When not tidying up or preparing meals, Kreacher had taken to retreating to his own room surely to escape the constant screams. Walburga envied him the luxury of that. For him to withdraw was understandable, but his general silence even when moving about the manor was unsettling. It seemed that Sirius's screams had even drained Kreacher's will to chatter on about any and everything his busy mind decided to take on. When it at last occurred to Walburga to ask him if he was alright, he simply shrugged and lowered his head, looking rather ashamed.
"Kreacher is perhaps a bad elf," he murmured. Then his entire body began to tremble.
"Whatever is the matter!" Walburga demanded, her concern growing.
"Kreacher is a bad elf," he repeated.
"But why," Walburga asked, utterly confounded by this point.
Kreacher stumbled to his feet from where he'd been seated on the floor in his room beside Walburga, and began banging his forehead onto the cold stone floor. "Kreacher is a bad elf," he howled.
Swearing, Walburga caught him up in her arms. "Shut up, lest you wake Sirius," she hissed. "I am certain that you are not a bad elf! Now what is it?"
Kreacher sniffled against her shoulder, struggling feebly to escape her grasp, surely so that he may resume his head banging. "Kreacher did a bad thing. He pinched young Master Sirius when the brat... ur sweet child tried to bite him. He was taking little Master Sirius a blanket as Mistress requested." That was some weeks back,and Kreacher had clearly been carrying that guilt around with him. Walburga only hoped he hadn't been banging his head over it for all that time.
She frowned. "He has begun teething, I am afraid." Of course this did not make him cry or scream more than usual, but it certainly did not improve his general angry state. "It is alright to pinch him if he is difficult," she added distractedly. "Now if I put you down will you be a good elf and not hurt your head?" That was truly disturbing.
Kreacher nodded, peering carefully up at her. "Kreacher is a good elf?"
Walburga smiled. At least one of the two children in this house was reasonable. She kissed Kreacher on his head as she set him on his feet. "Of course you are." Of course when Sirius began to talk, his first word was no. Not Mummy or daddy like other normal children, but no. More than once, Walburga longed to ask Orion if it was normal in this sort of situation not to love your own child, but shame would not allow the words to slip past her lips. It was likely that Orion even felt the same, but the words were too shameful.
It felt evil not to love your own child. Was that fair if she felt the child was evil though? Should one love an evil child? Surely not, but was he truly evil? Could a child be anything but innocent? At times like this, she wished for Hagatha's presence once again. Would Hagatha find something to love in Sirius or would her friend sense the evil Walburga felt in her babe, thus assuring her that her lack of love for him was justified? To her surprise, Walburga was filled with joy and hope rather than dread when she realized she was pregnant again. Though she could've expected that her second child would be another horror, she did not believe it. She had far too easy of a pregnancy, hardly sick at all and no mood swings. Sirius had kicked her nearly constantly during the last few months that she'd carried him, but this baby only kicked if she had eaten too much. This baby felt peaceful somehow, and carrying him at last afforded Walburga the peace and hope that she needed. Orion seemed to feel the same, as his temperament was more cheerful and less somber as her pregnancy progressed.