Fred and George crossed to the door and stood beside it, listening intently. Mrs. Black's screaming had stopped again.
"Mundungus is talking to Sirius and Kingsley," Fred muttered, frowning with concentration.
"Can't hear properly" said Fred
"Extendable Ears time then" said Amy
But at that precise moment there was an explosion of sound from downstairs that rendered Extendable Ears quite unnecessary. All of us could hear exactly Mum was shouting at the top of her voice.
"WE ARE NOT RUNNING A HIDEOUT FOR STOLEN GOODS!"
"Again, why the fuck is this guy in the Order, but not any of us?!" I said "I don't care that he's of age, he's a criminal, he shouldn't be anywhere near it!"
"I love hearing Mum shouting at someone else," said Fred, with a satisfied smile on his face as he opened the door an inch or so to allow Mrs. Weasley's voice to permeate the room better. "It makes such a nice change."
"— COMPLETELY IRRESPONSIBLE, AS IF WE HAVEN'T GOT ENOUGH TO WORRY ABOUT WITHOUT YOU DRAGGING STOLEN CAULDRONS INTO THE HOUSE —"
"The idiots are letting her get into her stride," said George, shaking his head. "You've got to head her off early, otherwise she builds up a head of steam and goes on for hours. And she's been dying to have a go at Mundungus ever since he sneaked off when he was supposed to be following you, Harry — and there goes Sirius's mum again —"
Mum's voice was lost amid fresh shrieks and screams from the portraits in the hall. George made to shut the door to drown the noise, but before he could do so, a house-elf edged into the room. Except for the filthy rag tied like a loincloth around its middle, it was completely naked. It looked very old. Its skin seemed to be several times too big for it and though it was bald like all house-elves, there was a quantity of white hair growing out of its large, batlike ears. Its eyes were a bloodshot and watery gray, and its fleshy nose was large and rather snoutlike.
I first saw this house elf on my first night here, when he woke us girls up coming into our room at half 4 in the morning. He did the same thing to Ron a few hours earlier, bloody creepy! We started locking the door at night after that.
Kreacher took absolutely no notice of us. Acting as though he could not see us, he shuffled hunchbacked, slowly and doggedly, toward the far end of the room, muttering under his breath all the while in a hoarse, deep voice like a bullfrog's
". . . Smells like a drain and a criminal to boot, but she's no better, nasty old blood traitor with her brats messing up my Mistress's house, oh my poor Mistress, if she knew, if she knew the scum they've let in her house, what would she say to old Kreacher, oh the shame of it, Mudbloods and werewolves and traitors and thieves, poor old Kreacher, what can he do. . . ."
"Hello, Kreacher," said Fred very loudly, closing the door with a snap. The house-elf froze in his tracks, stopped muttering, and then gave a very pronounced and very unconvincing start of surprise.
"Kreacher did not see Young Master," he said, turning around and bowing to Fred. Still facing the carpet, he added, perfectly audibly, "Nasty little brat of a blood traitor it is."
"Umm, you saw us perfectly clearly, thank you very much!" I said, "now, who are you calling blood traitors?"
"Kreacher called no one anything," he said, with a bow to George and I, adding in a clear undertone, "and there's its twin, and the younger sister, unnatural little beasts they are."
"You watch your mouth!" Amy hissed
"That's funny, we're unnatural little beasts are we? Last time I checked, we didn't all marry and have kids with our cousins" I added
"What?" said everyone else
Kreacher stared at Amy and began muttering again before I could answer.
"This is the Bagman child, oh my, the relative of the criminal and the mental patient, Kreacher is ashamed of the company he shares..."
Amy started forward, but Demelza pulled her back.
"The half blood has stopped the Bagman child approaching Kreacher, but Kreacher does not appreciate, for she has a muggle mother, oh yes, Kreacher knows the scum she is descended from"
Even Demelza now looked murderous at the insult to her mum, but she stayed where she was. Kreacher turned his attention to Hermione.
". . . and there's the Mudblood, standing there bold as brass, oh if my Mistress knew, oh how she'd cry, and there's a new boy, Kreacher doesn't know his name, what is he doing here, Kreacher doesn't know . . ."
"This is Harry, Kreacher," said Hermione tentatively. "Harry Potter."
Kreacher's pale eyes widened and he muttered faster and more furiously than ever. "The Mudblood is talking to Kreacher as though she is my friend, if Kreacher's Mistress saw him in such company, oh what would she say —"
"Don't call her a Mudblood!" said Ron, Amy, Demelza and I together, very angrily.
"It doesn't matter," Hermione whispered, "he's not in his right mind, he doesn't know what he's —"
"Don't kid yourself, Hermione, he knows exactly what he's saying," said Fred, eyeing Kreacher with great dislike.
"Honestly..." I muttered, shaking my head
Kreacher was still muttering, his eyes on Harry.
"Is it true? Is it Harry Potter? Kreacher can see the scar, it must be true, that's that boy who stopped the Dark Lord, Kreacher wonders how he did it —"
"Don't we all, Kreacher?" said Fred.
"What do you want anyway?" George asked.
Kreacher's huge eyes darted onto George. "Kreacher is cleaning," he said evasively.
"A likely story," said a voice behind us. Sirius had come back; he was glowering at the elf from the doorway. The noise in the hall had abated; perhaps Mum and Mundungus had moved their argument down into the kitchen. At the sight of Sirius, Kreacher flung himself into a ridiculously low bow that flattened his snoutlike nose on the floor. "Stand up straight," said Sirius impatiently. "Now, what are you up to?"
"Kreacher is cleaning," the elf repeated. "Kreacher lives to serve the noble house of Black —"
"— and it's getting blacker every day, it's filthy," said Sirius.
"Master always liked his little joke," said Kreacher, bowing again, and continuing in an undertone, "Master was a nasty ungrateful swine who broke his mother's heart —"
"My mother didn't have a heart, Kreacher," Sirius snapped. "She kept herself alive out of pure spite."
Kreacher bowed again and said, "Whatever Master says," then muttered furiously, "Master is not fit to wipe slime from his mother's boots, oh my poor Mistress, what would she say if she saw Kreacher serving him, how she hated him, what a disappointment he was —"
"I asked you what you were up to," said Sirius coldly. "Every time you show up pretending to be cleaning, you sneak something off to your room so we can't throw it out."
"Kreacher would never move anything from its proper place in Master's house," said the elf, then muttered very fast, "Mistress would never forgive Kreacher if the tapestry was thrown out, seven centuries it's been in the family, Kreacher must save it, Kreacher will not let Master and the blood traitors and the brats destroy it —"
"I thought it might be that," said Sirius, casting a disdainful look at the opposite wall. "She'll have put another Permanent Sticking Charm on the back of it, I don't doubt, but if I can get rid of it I certainly will. Now go away, Kreacher."
It seemed that Kreacher did not dare disobey a direct order; nevertheless, the look he gave Sirius as he shuffled out past him was redolent of deepest loathing and he muttered all the way out of the room.
"— comes back from Azkaban ordering Kreacher around, oh my poor Mistress, what would she say if she saw the house now, scum living in it, her treasures thrown out, she swore he was no son of hers and he's back, they say he's a murderer too —"
"Keep muttering and I will be a murderer!" said Sirius irritably, and he slammed the door shut on the elf.