Tʜᴇ Dᴀʀᴋ Lᴏʀᴅ's Aɴɢᴇʟ | Tom Riddle √

28: A Conversation with Kreacher

Cassiopeia stood in her father's dusty, untouched bedroom, examining news articles about Voldemort that hung near the family crest. The room was draped in emerald and silver, Slytherin's colors, and the motto "Toujours Pur" adorned the bottom of the crest. She ran her finger along the letters, muttering the translation to herself.

"It means Always Pure, my mistress," Kreacher replied to her unspoken question. She turned to him, her brows furrowing.

"I told you that you cannot call me that," Cassiopeia said, rolling her eyes as she continued to survey the room.

"My apologies, but I'm not allowed to talk to my mistress by her name," Kreacher answered.

"Then call me any name without 'mistress,'" she suggested. "What do you prefer, Cassie or Cass?"

"Miss. Arctula," Kreacher replied, his lips forming a faint smile, but Cassiopeia was curious about how he knew her middle name.

"How do you know it, Kreacher?" Her brows raised in question. He smiled gently now.

"It was the combination of my master and his to-be-mistress," he explained, a hint of sorrow in his expression.

"To-be-mistress?" Cassiopeia inquired. "Kreacher, do you know about my mother too?" Her mother had always been a mystery, and she had never heard much about her.

Kreacher nodded. "Yes, Miss. Arctula."

"Then I would like to have a long conversation with you," Cassiopeia said, smiling. "But before that, I want to clean up the mess here. I'd prefer to spend my time in my father's bedroom. Is that alright, Kreacher?"

"As you wish, Miss. Arctula," he responded, bowing his head. With a single tap of his finger, the entire room was cleaned and neatly arranged.

Cassiopeia was in awe, her eyes scanning the room that had transformed from chaos to order within seconds. Her trunk was there, near her bed, and she began to unpack while continuing the conversation with Kreacher.

"So, tell me about my parents, Kreacher," she began, as he stood near the bed. "You can start while sitting down."

"No, Miss. Arctula, we are not supposed to be on the same level as you," he said, shaking his head.

"Is that so? As far as I know, you are there to please your master, right, Kreacher?"

"Yes, Miss."

"Then I would be pleased if you settled comfortably on my bed before narrating the tale of my parents," she said, her smirk revealing her determination. Finally, Kreacher hesitated but settled down on the bed next to her, while she continued unpacking.

"Master was in love with a mistress from the Flint family. Her name was Vivien Lola Flint. My master was obsessed with becoming a Death Eater. Miss. Flint never liked it. By the time, the Dark Lord had asked a house elf, and my master recommended me. But the Dark Lord left me to die after his task. Somehow, I could use my magic and save my life. Master wasn't pleased with the Dark Lord's mistreatment towards me."

"What was the task, Kreacher?" Cassiopeia asked, opening the wardrobe. A few moments of silence passed before he spoke quietly.

"It's a secret, I'm not allowed to talk about, Miss. Arctula."

Cassiopeia had finished unpacking and settled down next to Kreacher, who had created a significant distance between them. Her curiosity about the secret task got the best of her.

"A clue?" She raised her brow at Kreacher, who quickly looked away.

"It was... it was related to the Dark Lord's life, Miss. Arctula."