peeks in* Hi...hello...
Yeah I know it's been YEARS since I've updated, but life has been lifing and I have had TERRIBLE writer's block. Over the years things have happened in the world that have been both good and bad, and has changed things forever.
I had been reading over this story and it gave me the motivation to continue it. I really want to finish this, and continue to explore Ron's mind. I am going to push myself. I have all the chapters of the story copied and saved, so unless my mind draws a blank. I have zero excuse to finish this lol.
Anyways, this is the chapter Kreacher's Tale, so it's mainly Kreacher telling Harry and Co about the locket. I can't really take anything out because it is important to the story, ao this isn't gonna be a major Ron's perspective chapter. We are gonna be in Grimmauld Place for a while, so I will definitely have some moments where it will just be him in his head, or him and Hermione.
Looking back, I repeated myself a lot about his mouth and the fact that he was growing up so things may be more explicit as he is a man now, and I'm like why did I even do that? Once should have been enough. So consider this my final saying of it. Yall care lol
So, I hope that you enjoy it for the most part. I'll make up for the lack of Ron' perspective in the next chapter.
On with the fic!
Chapter 197: Woes of a House Elf
I woke up to something poking me like a dagger in my side. Cheerful.
"Wake up Ron! WAKE UP NOW!" I heard Hermione screech in my ear. I had always imagined waking up to Hermione's voice, but not with her sounding like a harpy.
"What izit?" I groaned sleepily, rubbing my eyes. "What's going on?"
I felt Hermione tug at my other arm. "Harry is missing!"
That made my eyes pop wide open. I shot up quickly, the force making my head swim slightly, but I ignored it.
I took a look around the room. Harry's sleeping bag and shoes was still there, but he was not. I looked over at Hermione's panicked face.
"You don't think he left without us, do you?" asked Hermione anxiously.
"The bloody hell he had not," I said, anger brewing. "You don't think the git would leave without his trainers, would he?"
"Let's look for him." said Hermione, slipping on her shoes. "You search this floor, and I'll go upstairs."
Hermione zipped quickly out of the room. I left, and looked about the creepy first floor. I went down to the kitchen hoping maybe to spy him sipping a warm tea. No Harry.
I heard Hermione's shouts of Harry's name above me. She had to be on the third floor, which meant she had already gotten through the second.
I went there anyway and searched through the dusty rooms. He couldn't have left, he simply couldn't have. We were to all do this together. He needed them.
Didn't he?
I began to panic. He didn't leave. No way would he just up and leave without telling us. He couldn't-
"Ron! I've found him!"I heard Hermione's voice echo from a few floors up.
I let out a relieved sigh. He had not left us.
"Good! Tell him from me he's a git!"I shouted.
I stood still as I allowed my heart to calm down from trying to beat out of my chest. He had not left us. He had stayed. We were still together.
I made my way to the bathroom. I was shocked I hadn't pissed all over myself with panic. I used the can and then washed myself up. I grabbed my tooth rush and the toothpaste Hermione had brought.
As I stood there looking into the dusty mirror, my mind drifted to the Burrow. I was still worried about them. Dad's patronus had been somewhat of a comfort, but the fact that I couldn't see them to know for sure unnerved me. Everything had happened so quick, everyone was running this way and that, curses being thrown left and right. What if George lost another ear? What if Greyback had showed up after we had left? Had fucking Death Eater Jr Malfoy been there?
I finished my teeth and tried desperately to quiet my mind. I thought back to a dream that I had had during the night when my dreams weren't Matthew's. A dream about Hermione.
We were back at The Burrow, laid out in the tall grass and wildflowers. The sun was beaming so vividly in my dream, that I could almost feel the heat against my skin.
Hermione was beside me, her head laying on top of my arm. I saw her lips move as if we were in a delightful conversation, but everything was quiet, calm. It felt
"Ron! RON! Get up here, quick!"I heard Hermione scream.
I dropped my toothbrush, pulled my wand out of my pajama pocket, and rushed up the flights of stairs as quickly as I could. I reached them a minute later, wand at the ready.
"What's up?" I panted. "If it's massive spiders again I want breakfast before I —"
I looked in the direction of the door that Hermione was pointing at. Faded letters of R.A.B. was upon it.
"What? That was Sirius's brother, wasn't it? Regulus Arcturus . . . Regulus . . . R.A.B.! The locket — you don't reckon — ?"
"Let's find out," said Harry. He pushed the door: It was locked. Hermione pointed her wand at the handle and said, "Alohomora." There was a click, and the door swung open.
We moved over the threshold together, gazing around. Regulus's bedroom was pretty big, about as big as our kitchen back at The Burrow. I scrunched my nose up at all the green Slytherin paraphernalia that adorned the walls, the bed, even the curtains. The Black family crest was painstakingly painted over the bed, along with its motto, TOUJOURS PUR. Beneath this was a collection of yellow newspaper cuttings, all stuck together to make a sort of crude collage. Hermione crossed the room to examine them.
"They're all about Voldemort," she said. "Regulus seems to have been a fan for a few years before he joined the Death Eaters. . . ."
A little puff of dust rose from the bedcovers as she sat down to read the clippings. Harry and I began to look about the room, which seemed to had been ransacked. As if someone had been desperately looking for something.
"He played Seeker," I heard Harry say.
"What?" said Hermione vaguely; still immersed in Voldemort's press clippings.
"He's sitting in the middle of the front row, that's where the Seeker.." I heard Harry say as I looked under the wardrobe for the confounded locket. Nothing but dust and grime from years of not being cleaned up under. Made me wonder how we had missed this room when we had stayed here before 5th year.
"There's an easier way," said Hermione, as I looked through the faced, mouth eaten curtains. "Accio Locket!"
Nothing happened. That was a bust.
"Is that it, then? It's not here?"I said disappointedly.
"Oh, it could still be here, but under counter-enchantments," said Hermione. "Charms to prevent it being summoned magically, you know."
"Like Voldemort put on the stone basin in the cave," said Harry.
"How are we supposed to find it then?" I asked.
"We search manually," said Hermione.
"That's a good idea," I said, rolling my eyes in frustration. I heard Hermione sigh deeply as I continued looking through the curtains.
We combed every inch of the room for more than an hour, but were forced, finally, to conclude that the locket was not there.
The sun had risen now; its light dazzled us even through the grimy landing windows.
"It could be somewhere else in the house, though," said Hermione in a semi confident tone as we walked back downstairs: As Harry and I had become more discouraged, she seemed to have become more determined. "Whether he'd managed to destroy it or not, he'd want to keep it hidden from Voldemort, wouldn't he? Remember all those awful things we had to get rid of when we were here last time? That clock that shot bolts at everyone and those old robes that tried to strangle Ron; Regulus might have put them there to protect the locket's hiding place, even though we didn't realize it at . . . at . . ."
Harry and I looked at her. She was standing with one foot in midair, with a dazed look in her face, as if her mind had just discovered something.
". . . at the time," she finished in a whisper.
"Something wrong?" I asked.
"There was a locket."
"What?" said Harry and I together.
"In the cabinet in the drawing room. Nobody could open it. And we . . . we . . ."
I looked at Harry's face, which had fell. I had the same thought that he had.
We had thrown the bloody thing away.
"Kreacher nicked loads of things back from us," said Harry quickly. "He had a whole stash of stuff in his cupboard in the kitchen. C'mon."
We ran down the steps two at a time. We had made so much noise that we had awakened Sirius's mother's fucking portrait.
"Filth! Mudbloods! Scum!" she screamed after us as we dashed down into the basement kitchen and slammed the door behind us.I made a mental note to try and mute her later on.
Harry ran across the room, skidding to a halt at the door of Kreacher's cupboard, and snatched the door open. He quickly rummaged through it, tossing out odds and ends, but finding nothing. I groaned as I threw myself into a kitchen chair; Hermione closed her eyes.
"It's not over yet," said Harry, and he raised his voice and called, "Kreacher!"
There was a loud crack and the house-elf that Harry had oh so gladly inherited from Sirius appeared out of nowhere in front of the cold and empty fireplace: tiny, half human-sized, looking worse for wear. He was still wearing the filthy rag in which we had first met him, and the look he gave Harry let us fully understand how much he hated being owned by Harry now.
"Master," croaked Kreacher in his bullfrog's voice, and he bowed low, muttering to his knees, "back in my Mistress's old house with the blood-traitor Weasley and the Mudblood —"
"I forbid you to call anyone 'blood traitor' or 'Mudblood,'" growled Harry. Hermione put her arm up in front of me, telling me to stand down. Kreacher gave a look of disgusting as it seemed he could find no other insult to give that equated them.
"I've got a question for you," said Harry, "and I order you to answer it truthfully. Understand?"
"Yes, Master," said Kreacher, bowing low again.
"Two years ago," said Harry, "there was a big gold locket in the drawing room upstairs. We threw it out. Did you steal it back?"
There was a moment's silence, during which Kreacher straightened up to look Harry full in the face. Then he said, "Yes."
"Where is it now?" asked Harry anxiously as Hermione looked gleeful.I was getting hopeful. He was gonna give it to us. It was that bloody easy!
Kreacher closed his eyes as though he could not bear to see our reactions to his next word.
"Gone."
"Gone?" echoed Harry, his face fully falling. "What do you mean, it's gone?"
Kreacher looked as if he wanted to be anywhere else but here. I was starting to get annoyed. Damn. We were so fucking close!
"Kreacher," said Harry fiercely, "I order you —"
"Mundungus Fletcher," cracked the elf, his eyes still shut. "Mundungus Fletcher stole it all: Miss Bella's and Miss Cissy's pictures, my Mistress's gloves, the Order of Merlin, First Class, the goblets with the family crest, and — and —"
Kreacher suddenly looked like he was internally in despair. As if he couldn't get the devastating words out of his mouth.
" — and the locket, Master Regulus's locket, Kreacher did wrong, Kreacher failed in his orders!"
Harry moved so quickly, it was almost a blur: As Kreacher lunged for the poker standing in the grate, he launched himself upon the elf, flattening him. Hermione screamed at the sight and I stood there, watching the scene, unable to do anything.
"Kreacher, I order you to stay still!"yelled Harry, startling me out of my trance of staring at them.
Kreacher let go and laid flat on the cold stone floor, tears gushing from his sagging eyes.
"Harry, let him up!" Hermione whispered.
"So he can beat himself up with the poker?" exclaimed Harry, kneeling beside the elf. "I don't think so. Right, Kreacher, I want the truth: How do you know Mundungus Fletcher stole the locket?"
"Kreacher saw him!" gasped the elf as tears poured over his huge nose and into his mouth, glazing over his rotted looking teeth. "Kreacher saw him coming out of Kreacher's cupboard with his hands full of Kreacher's treasures. Kreacher told the sneak thief to stop, but Mundungus Fletcher laughed and r-ran. . . ."
"You called the locket 'Master Regulus's,'" said Harry. "Why? Where did it come from? What did Regulus have to do with it? Kreacher, sit up and tell me everything you know about that locket, and everything Regulus had to do with it!"
The elf sat up, curled into a ball, placed his wet face between his knees, and began to rock backward and forward. I almost felt sorry for him. He reminded me of a small child in a way.
"Master Sirius ran away, good riddance, for he was a bad boy and broke my Mistress's heart with his lawless ways. But Master Regulus had proper pride; he knew what was due to the name of Black and the dignity of his pure blood. For years he talked of the Dark Lord, who was going to bring the wizards out of hiding to rule the Muggles and the Muggle-borns . . . and when he was sixteen years old, Master Regulus joined the Dark Lord. So proud, so proud, so happy to serve . . ."
I couldn't help but groan a bit. The way he was glorifying his prejudice owner and Regulus disgusted me
"And one day, a year after he had joined, Master Regulus came down to the kitchen to see Kreacher. Master Regulus always liked Kreacher. And Master Regulus said . . . he said . . .
The old elf rocked faster than ever.
". . . he said that the Dark Lord required an elf."
"Voldemort needed an elf?" Harry repeated, looking around at Hermione and I. I gave him a shrug. I had no idea what he was going on about. Hermione looked just as puzzled as we did.
"Oh yes," moaned Kreacher. "And Master Regulus had volunteered Kreacher. It was an honor, said Master Regulus, an honor for him and for Kreacher, who must be sure to do whatever the Dark Lord ordered him to do . . . and then to c-come home."
Kreacher rocked still faster, his breath coming in felt as if he was beginning to recall something that freaked him out.
"So Kreacher went to the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord did not tell Kreacher what they were to do, but took Kreacher with him to a cave beside the sea. And beyond the cave there was a cavern, and in the cavern was a great black lake . . ."
Harry gave Kreacher a look. As if he knew exactly what the elf was speaking about.
". . . There was a boat . . ." continued Kreacher. "There was a b-basin full of potion on the island. The D-Dark Lord made Kreacher drink it. . . ."
The elf quaked from head to foot.
"Kreacher drank, and as he drank, he saw terrible things . . . . Kreacher's insides burned . . . Kreacher cried for Master Regulus to save him, he cried for his Mistress Black, but the Dark Lord only laughed . . . He made Kreacher drink all the potion . . . He dropped a locket into the empty basin. . . . He filled it with more then the Dark Lord sailed away, leaving Kreacher on the island. . . ."
Damn. I had no clue of what he was speaking on but damn. I felt as if I could see and feel his fear. As if I was there myself. I couldn't help but take Hermione's hand, softly squeezing it, as I could feel her hand shaking. Harry looked intently at the elf, as if he was mesmerized by his words.
"Kreacher needed water, he crawled to the island's edge and he drank from the black lake . . . and hands, dead hands, came out of the water and dragged Kreacher under the surface. . . ."
"How did you get away?" Harry whispered solemnly.
Kreacher raised his ugly head and looked at Harry with his great, bloodshot eyes.
"Master Regulus told Kreacher to come back," he said.
"I know — but how did you escape the Inferi?"
Kreacher looked confused by Harry' words.
"Master Regulus told Kreacher to come back," he repeated.
"I know, but —"
"Well, it's obvious, isn't it, Harry?" I said, figuring it out. "He Disapparated."
"But . . . you couldn't Apparate in and out of that cave," said Harry, "otherwise Dumbledore —"
"Elf magic isn't like wizard's magic, is it?" I reminded Harry. "I mean, they can Apparate and Disapparate in and out of Hogwarts when we can't."
There was silence as Harry seemed to take this in.
"Of course, Voldemort would have considered the ways of house-elves far beneath his notice, just like all the purebloods who treat them like animals." said Hermione, finally, her voice sounding cold as ice. "It would never have occurred to him that they might have magic that he didn't."
"The house-elf's highest law is his Master's bidding," said Kreacher. "Kreacher was told to come home, so Kreacher came home. . . ."
"Well, then, you did what you were told, didn't you?" said Hermione, a bit kinder. "You didn't disobey orders at all."
Kreacher shook his head, rocking as fast as ever.
"So what happened when you got back?" Harry asked. "What did Regulus say when you told him what had happened?"
"Master Regulus was very worried, very worried," croaked Kreacher. "Master Regulus told Kreacher to stay hidden and not to leave the house. And then, it was a little while later, Master Regulus came to find Kreacher in his cupboard one night, and Master Regulus was strange, not as he usually was, disturbed in his mind, Kreacher could tell . . . and he asked Kreacher to take him to the cave, the cave where Kreacher had gone with the Dark Lord. . . ."
"And he made you drink the potion?" said Harry, disgusted.I couldn't help but share the same sentiment. It was revolting the way he was treated, even if he was indeed a total git.
Kreacher shook his head and wept. Suddenly, Hermione's hands leapt to her mouth: She seemed to have realized something.
"M-Master Regulus took from his pocket a locket like the one the Dark Lord had," said Kreacher, tears pouring down either side of his snout like nose. "And he told Kreacher to take it and, when the basin was empty, to switch the lockets. . . ."
Kreacher's sobs came in great rasps now. It was starting to become hard to understand him, but we hung onto his every word.
"And he ordered — Kreacher to leave — without him. And he told Kreacher — to go home — and never to tell my Mistress — what he had done — but to destroy — the first locket. And he drank — all the potion — and Kreacher swapped the lockets — and watched . . . as Master Regulus . . . was dragged beneath the water . . . and . . ."
"Oh, Kreacher!" wailed Hermione, who was crying. She dropped to her knees beside the elf and tried to hug him. He stood up quickly, looking at Hermous as if he was revolted by her touch
"The Mudblood touched Kreacher, he will not allow it, what would his Mistress say?"
"I told you not to call her 'Mudblood'!" snarled Harry, but the elf was already punishing himself: He fell to the ground and banged his forehead on the floor.
"Stop him — stop him!" Hermione cried. "Oh, don't you see now how sick it is, the way they've got to obey?"
I honestly didn't care. Well, I did care. But not as much as I would have had he not said that bloody word.
"Kreacher — stop, stop!" shouted Harry.
The elf laid on the floor, panting and shivering, green mucus forming around his snout, a bruise already showing up on his big ass forehead where he had struck himself, his eyes swollen and bloodshot and swimming in tears. I honestly had never seen anything so pathetic in my life.
"So you brought the locket home," asked Harry. "And you tried to destroy it?"
"Nothing Kreacher did made any mark upon it," moaned the elf. "Kreacher tried everything, everything he knew, but nothing, nothing would work. . . . So many powerful spells upon the casing, Kreacher was sure the way to destroy it was to get inside it, but it would not open. . . . Kreacher punished himself, he tried again, he punished himself, he tried again. Kreacher failed to obey orders, Kreacher could not destroy the locket! And his Mistress was mad with grief, because Master Regulus had disappeared, and Kreacher could not tell her what had happened, no, because Master Regulus had f-f-forbidden him to tell any of the f-f-family what happened in the c-cave. . . ."
Kreacher began to sob so hard that his words sounded like a jumbled mess. Tears flowed down Hermione's cheeks as she watched Kreacher, but she did not dare touch him again. Even I couldn't help but feel sorry for the bloke. That shit really fucked with me. It put into perspective how little You Know Who valued life.
"I don't understand you, Kreacher," said Harry, after what seemed like forever. "Voldemort tried to kill you, Regulus died to bring Voldemort down, but you were still happy to betray Sirius to Voldemort? You were happy to go to Narcissa and Bellatrix, and pass information to Voldemort through them. . . ."
"Harry, Kreacher doesn't think like that," said Hermione, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand. "He's a slave; house-elves are used to bad, even brutal treatment; what Voldemort did to Kreacher wasn't that far out of the common way. What do wizard wars mean to an elf like Kreacher? He's loyal to people who are kind to him, and Mrs. Black must have been, and Regulus certainly was, so he served them willingly and parroted their beliefs. I know what you're going to say," she went on as Harry began to protest, "that Regulus changed his mind . . . but he doesn't seem to have explained that to Kreacher, does he? And I think I know why. Kreacher and Regulus's family were all safer if they kept to the old pure-blood line. Regulus was trying to protect them all."
"Sirius —"
"Sirius was horrible to Kreacher, Harry, and it's no good looking like that, you know it's true. Kreacher had been alone for a long time when Sirius came to live here, and he was probably starving for a bit of affection. I'm sure 'Miss Cissy' and 'Miss Bella' were perfectly lovely to Kreacher when he turned up, so he did them a favor and told them everything they wanted to know. I've said all along that wizards would pay for how they treat house-elves. Well, Voldemort did . . . and so did Sirius."
Harry look3d as if he wanted to dismiss all of this. However, I couldn't even say I would dismiss it myself. Hermione was correct with what she was saying, and Harry couldn't be angry about it. Kreacher was treated horribly, and thought he was a complete and total git, he didn't deserve it.
"Kreacher," said Harry after a while, "when you feel up to it, er . . . please sit up."
It took forever before Kreacher pushed himself into a sitting position, rubbing his knuckles into his eyes like a small child. It somewhat reminded me of Ginny when she was little and used to have bad dreams.
"Kreacher, I am going to ask you to do something," said Harry. He glanced at Hermione for assistance. As if he was trying to figure out the right words to say, if he should be kind. Hermione gave a reassuring smile.
"Kreacher, I want you, please, to go and find Mundungus Fletcher. We need to find out where the locket — Master Regulus's locket is. It's really important. We want to finish the work Master Regulus started, we want to — er — ensure that he didn't die in vain."
Kreacher dropped his fists and looked up at Harry.
"Find Mundungus Fletcher?" he croaked.
"And bring him here, to Grimmauld Place," said Harry. "Do you think you could do that for us?"
As Kreacher nodded and got to his feet, Harry pulled out Hagrid's purse and took out the fake Horcrux.
"Kreacher, I'd, er, like you to have this," he said, pressing the locket into the elf's hand. "This belonged to Regulus and I'm sure he'd want you to have it as a token of gratitude for what you —"
"Overkill, mate," I said jokingly as the elf took one look at the locket, let out a howl of shock and misery, and threw himself back onto the ground.
It took us nearly half an hour to calm down Kreacher, who was so overcome to be presented with a Black family heirloom for his very own that he was too weak at the knees to stand properly. When finally he was able to totter a few steps they all accompanied him to his cupboard, watched him tuck up the locket safely in his dirty blankets, and assured him that they would make its protection their first priority while he was away. He then made two low bows to both Harry and I, and even gave a funny little twitch that could be perceived as a bow in Hermione's direction, before Disapparating with the usual loud crack.
"Well," I said looking at the other two. "That was a tale that I would never want to hear ever again.
Harry and Hermione nodded in agreement.