With a loud crack, the house-elf Harry had unwillingly inherited from Sirius appeared. He stood on the cold stone floor, thin and small, barely half the height of a man. His pale, sagging skin hung in folds, and tufts of white hair sprouted from his bat-like ears. He still wore the same filthy rag they had first seen him in, and the contempt in his gaze made it clear that, much like his clothing, his attitude toward his new master had not changed.
"Master," Kreacher croaked hoarsely in his bullfrog voice, bowing low and muttering at his knees, "returns to my Mistress's old house, bringing with him the blood traitor Weasley and the Mudblood, "
"I forbid you to call anyone a 'blood traitor' or a 'Mudblood'!" Harry barked. Even if Kreacher hadn't betrayed Sirius to Voldemort, Harry would still have found his long snout and bloodshot eyes deeply unappealing.
"I have questions," Harry said, looking down at the elf, his heart racing. "I command you to answer truthfully. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Master," Kreacher replied, bowing low again. Harry saw his lips moving silently, undoubtedly mouthing insults he was now forbidden to speak.
"Two years ago," Harry began, heart pounding, "there was a large gold locket in the drawing room upstairs. We threw it out. Did you take it back?"
There was a pause. Kreacher straightened up and looked Harry in the face, then said, "Yes."
"Where is it now?" Harry asked eagerly. Ron and Hermione also looked hopeful.
Kreacher closed his eyes, as if he couldn't bear to witness their reactions to his next words.
"It is gone."
"Gone?" Harry echoed in disbelief. The hope drained from him. "What do you mean it's gone?"
The elf trembled and swayed.
"Kreacher," Harry said sharply, "I order you, "
"Mundungus Fletcher," Kreacher croaked, still keeping his eyes shut. "It was Mundungus Fletcher who stole it: Miss Bella and Miss Cissy's photographs, my Mistress's gloves, the Order of Merlin, First Class, the goblet with the family crest, and, and—"
Kreacher gasped for breath, his frail chest heaving, and then he opened his eyes and screamed, a sound so piercing it made their blood run cold.
"—and the locket! Master Regulus's locket! Kreacher failed! Kreacher couldn't carry out Master Regulus's orders!"
Harry reacted instinctively. When Kreacher rushed toward the fireplace poker, Harry leapt and pinned him down. Hermione's scream and Kreacher's wailing overlapped, but Harry's voice cut through them both.
"Kreacher, I order you not to move!"
He felt the elf go rigid and released his grip. Kreacher lay stiff on the cold stone floor, tears pouring from his sunken eyes.
"Harry, let him up," Hermione whispered.
"So he can beat himself with a poker?" Harry snapped, still kneeling beside Kreacher. "I don't think so. Now, Kreacher, I want the truth. How do you know Mundungus stole the locket?"
"Kreacher saw him!" the elf shrieked, tears running into his gaping mouth, revealing gray, decaying teeth. "Kreacher saw him come out of Kreacher's cupboard with Kreacher's treasures in his arms! Kreacher told the thief to stop, but Mundungus Fletcher just laughed and ran, ran, "
"You said the locket was 'Master Regulus's,'" Harry said. "Why? Where did it come from? What did Regulus have to do with it? Kreacher, sit up and tell me everything you know about the locket and about Regulus's connection to it."
The elf sat up, curling into a ball with his wet face pressed between his knees. He began rocking back and forth. When he spoke, his voice was low and muffled, but in the echoing silence of the kitchen, it was clearly heard.
"Master Sirius ran away. Good riddance, because he was a bad boy. His improper behavior broke my Mistress's heart. But Master Regulus had pride. He knew what the name 'Black' and his pure bloodline meant. For years he talked of the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord would bring the wizards out of hiding to rule over the Muggles and their offspring... When Master Regulus was sixteen, he joined the Dark Lord's ranks. He was so proud, so proud, so happy to serve..."
"One year later, one day, Master Regulus came to the kitchen to speak with Kreacher. Master Regulus always liked Kreacher. He said... he said..."
The old elf began rocking faster.
"He said the Dark Lord needed a house-elf."
"Voldemort wanted a house-elf?" Harry repeated, glancing at Ron and Hermione, who looked just as confused.
"Oh, yes," Kreacher said painfully. "Master Regulus volunteered Kreacher. It was an honor, he said, an honor for both him and Kreacher. Kreacher must do whatever the Dark Lord commanded... and then return, return home."
Kreacher rocked even faster, his breathing turning to sobs.
"So Kreacher went to the Dark Lord. He didn't tell Kreacher what for, just took him to a seaside cave. A big cave, with a black lake in the middle…"
The hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood up. Kreacher's rasping voice seemed to echo off that dark water. He could see it all as if he had been there himself.
"There was a boat…"
Of course there was a boat. Harry knew the ghostly green vessel, enchanted to carry only one wizard and one sacrifice to the island at the center of the lake. So that was how Voldemort tested the protections on the Horcrux: with a disposable life, a house-elf...
"On the island, there was a stone basin... filled with potion. The D-Dark Lord made Kreacher drink it…"
The elf trembled all over.
"Kreacher drank, and saw terrible things… fire in his belly… Kreacher called for Master Regulus, called for Mistress, but the Dark Lord only laughed… He forced Kreacher to drink it all… then dropped a locket into the empty basin… and refilled it with potion."
"Then the Dark Lord left in the boat, and Kreacher was alone…"
Harry saw it: Voldemort's pale, snake-like face retreating into the shadows, red eyes cold as he abandoned the suffering elf. In minutes, the potion's thirst would drive Kreacher to drink from the lake...
"Kreacher needed water, crawled to the lake's edge to drink… and many hands, dead hands, came up from the water and dragged Kreacher down…"
"How did you escape?" Harry whispered. He wasn't surprised at his voice, it matched the hush that had fallen over the room.
Kreacher raised his ugly head and looked at Harry with bloodshot eyes.
"Master Regulus told Kreacher to come home," he said simply.
"I know, but how did you get away from the Inferi?"
Kreacher seemed not to understand.
"Master Regulus told Kreacher to come home," he repeated.
"I know, but, "
"Oh, come on, Harry," Ron cut in, "He Apparated!"
"But… you can't Apparate in and out of that cave," Harry said. "Dumbledore, "
"Elves have different magic than wizards, don't they?" Ron said. "They can Apparate at Hogwarts, and we can't."
There was silence. Harry mulled it over. How could Voldemort make such a mistake? Then Hermione spoke, her voice cold.
"Of course. Voldemort, like every other pure-blood who treats house-elves like dirt, wouldn't have bothered to understand their magic… He'd never consider that an elf might have powers he doesn't."
"The highest law for a house-elf is their master's command," Kreacher said in a sing-song voice. "Master told Kreacher to come home, so Kreacher came home…"
"So you followed orders exactly?" Hermione asked gently. "You didn't disobey at all?"
Kreacher nodded, rocking faster again.
"What happened when you got back?" Harry asked. "When you told Regulus what happened?"
"Master Regulus was very worried, very worried," Kreacher cried. "He told Kreacher to hide, not to leave the house. Then… some time later… one night, Master Regulus came to the kitchen again. He was strange, not like usual. Kreacher could see he was troubled… He told Kreacher to take him to the cave, the one Kreacher had been to with the Dark Lord…"
And so they went. Harry could picture it clearly: a frightened, aging house-elf and the slim, dark-haired boy so much like Sirius. Kreacher knew how to open the secret entrance, how to summon the boat… And this time, they crossed to the island together, toward the basin of potion…
"He made you drink the potion?" Harry asked, horrified.
Kreacher shook his head, sobbing loudly. Hermione clutched her hands over her mouth, she seemed to understand.
"M-Master Regulus took a locket from his pocket, just like the Dark Lord's," Kreacher said, tears streaming down his long nose. "He gave it to Kreacher, told Kreacher to wait until the basin was empty, then swap the lockets…"
His sobs became harsh and choked, and Harry had to concentrate to understand his words.
"He ordered Kreacher, to leave—leave him. He told Kreacher, go home, tell Mistress nothing, but destroy the first locket. Then he drank all the potion, Kreacher swapped the lockets, watched… Master Regulus… dragged under the water… and then…"
"Oh, Kreacher!" Hermione sobbed, kneeling next to him and reaching out. But Kreacher leapt up, backing away in disgust.
"Mudblood touched Kreacher! Kreacher not allow it! What would the Mistress say?"
"I said no, calling her 'Mudblood'!" Harry shouted, but Kreacher was already punishing himself, throwing himself to the ground and banging his head on the floor.
"Stop him, stop him!" Hermione cried. "Don't you see how cruel this is? They can only obey!"
"Kreacher, stop! Stop!" Harry yelled.
The elf lay trembling, gasping, his face streaked with tears and green mucus, a large lump forming on his forehead, his eyes bloodshot and swollen. Harry had never seen anything so pitiful.
"So, you brought the locket back," Harry asked, steeling himself to continue. "Did you try to destroy it?"
"Kreacher couldn't make a mark on it," the elf moaned. "Tried everything, every spell, nothing worked. Too many enchantments. Kreacher believes only destroying from inside… but it wouldn't open… Kreacher punished himself, tried again, punished himself more… Kreacher failed… Mistress went mad with grief… Regulus gone, and Kreacher couldn't say why, he was forbidden to tell the family what happened in the cave…"
Kreacher dissolved into sobs again. Hermione sat silently, tears on her cheeks, no longer daring to touch him. Even Ron looked uneasy. Harry knelt back, shaking his head to clear it.
"I don't get it, Kreacher," he said. "Voldemort tried to kill you. Regulus died trying to defeat him. But you still betrayed Sirius to Voldemort? You went to Narcissa and Bellatrix and passed on information…"
"Harry, Kreacher didn't see it that way," Hermione said, wiping her eyes. "He's a slave. He's used to cruelty, even violence. What Voldemort did wasn't unusual to him. War between wizards means little to someone like Kreacher. He was loyal to those who treated him well, Mrs. Black, and of course Regulus. He accepted their beliefs without question. And I know what you're about to say," she added as Harry opened his mouth. "Regulus changed… but he never told Kreacher, did he? I think he was trying to protect Kreacher, and the rest of his family, from retribution by keeping up the pure-blood act."
"Sirius, "
"Sirius treated Kreacher horribly, Harry. Don't give me that look. You know it's true. Kreacher had been alone for a long time before Sirius returned. Maybe he was desperate for a little affection. I bet 'Miss Cissy' and 'Miss Bella' were kind to him, and so he helped them, told them everything they wanted to know. I've always said wizards would pay for how they treat house-elves. Look, Voldemort paid. So did Sirius."
Harry had no answer. Watching Kreacher sobbing on the floor, he recalled what Dumbledore had said just hours after Sirius's death: I do not think Sirius ever saw Kreacher as a being with feelings as deep as a human's…
"Kreacher," Harry said at last, "when you feel ready… please sit up."
It was several minutes before Kreacher's sobs quieted. He sat up, hiccupping, rubbing his eyes like a child.
"Kreacher, I want to ask you to do something," Harry said, glancing at Hermione for support. He tried to sound kind, though this was clearly a command. Hermione gave him a small, encouraging smile.
"Kreacher, I'd like you to find Mundungus Fletcher. We need to know where Master Regulus's locket is. It's very important. We want to finish what Regulus started. We want to make sure… he didn't die in vain."
Kreacher lowered his fists and looked up at Harry.
"Find Mundungus Fletcher?" he rasped.
"Bring him back here to Grimmauld Place," Harry said. "Can you do that for us?"
Kreacher nodded and stood.
Suddenly inspired, Harry pulled out the leather pouch Hagrid had given him, a magic mokeskin bag that only he could open, and took out the fake Horcrux, the false locket with Regulus's note to Voldemort inside.
"Kreacher, I… I'd like you to have this," he said, pressing it into the elf's hand. "It belonged to Regulus. I think… he'd want you to have it. To thank you."
"A bit much, mate," Ron muttered, as Kreacher let out a gasp of surprise and anguish and collapsed again.
It took nearly half an hour to calm him down. The idea of owning something from the House of Black overwhelmed him. When he could finally walk again, they helped him wrap the locket in his filthy blanket and promised to guard it while he was gone. Kreacher gave Harry and Ron low bows, and even twitched oddly toward Hermione, perhaps a bow, and with a familiar crack, he vanished.
"Mundungus is in the Order, isn't he?" Ron said afterward, scratching his head.
"I mentioned it once," Harry replied. "Second lesson with Dumbledore, after Katie got cursed. Dumbledore said he regretted not keeping a closer eye on him. Scrimgeour had him kicked out of the Order's inner circle. No one's seen him since."
"Well, if the Order can't find him?"
"The Order has enough to do," Hermione said quickly. "You can't expect them to chase after a petty thief. And I think Harry did the right thing. If Kreacher could escape a lake full of Inferi, I trust he can catch Mundungus."
"Fine, fine, I didn't say the Order was bad. Or elves, for that matter," Ron said, throwing up his hands. "So what do we do now?"
"Keep cleaning," Hermione said firmly. "Lunch isn't for another hour."
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A/N: Hermione really stands up for the Order, huh~~
The complete release can be accessed through Patreon.com/Crimson_Lore