Ternion || Oliver Wood

Chapter 117

Headmaster

For the first time in three days I had forgotten all about Kreacher and the task we've given the elf, I was at the kitchen with Hermione and Harry when someone came bursting in the room. My immediate thought was that Remus had burst back into the room but it wasn't Remus. I hurried to my feet as Kreacher disentangled himself and bowing low to me, croaked, "Kreacher has returned with the thief Mundungus Fletcher, Master."

Mundungus scrambled up and pulled out his wand but I was quicker.

"Expelliarmus!" I shouted immediately.

Mundungus's wand soared into the air, and Hermione who was beside me now caught it. Wild-eyed, Mundungus dived for the stairs: Ron rugby-tackled him and Mundungus hit the stone floor with a muffled crunch.

"What?" bellowed Mundungus as he writhed in his attempts to free himself from Ron's grip. "What've I done? Setting a bleedin' house-elf on me, what are you playing at, what've I done, lemme go, lemme go, or —"

"You're not in much of a position to make threats," said Harry. He threw aside the newspaper that he was reading across the kitchen in a few strides.

I dropped into one knee beside Mundungus, who stopped struggling and looked terrified as he looked at me. Harry kneeled down beside me too. While Ron got up, panting, and watched as I pointed my wand deliberately at Mundungus's nose. Mundungus stank of stale sweat and tobacco smoke: His hair was matted and his robes stained.

"Kreacher apologizes for the delay in bringing the thief, Miss Renee," croaked Kreacher. "Fletcher knows how to avoid capture, has many hidey-holes and accomplices. Nevertheless, Kreacher cornered the thief in the end."

"You've done really well, Kreacher," I praised him, and the elf bowed low.

"Right, we've got a few questions for you," Harry told Mundungus who began shouting.

"I panicked, okay? I never wanted to come along, no offense, mate, but I never volunteered to die for you, an' that was bleedin' You-Know-Who come flying at me, anyone woulda got outta there, I said all along I didn't wanna do it —" he shouted at once.

"For your information, none of the rest of us Disapparated," said Hermione, clearly annoyed and angry.

"Well, you're a bunch of bleedin' heroes then, aren't you, but I never pretended I was up for killing myself, I didn't sign up for that —" said Mundungus, I rolled my eyes, can't he just let us finish our question.

"We're not interested in why you ran out on Mad-Eye," I said, moving my wand a little closer to Mundungus's baggy, bloodshot eyes. "We already knew you were an unreliable bit of scum, you coward."

"Well then, why the blood hell am I being hunted down by house-elves? Or is this about them goblets again? I ain't got none of 'em left, or you 'ave 'em —"

"It's not about the goblets either, although you're getting warmer," I said, cutting him off. "Shut up and listen."

My wand was now so close to the bridge of Mundungus's nose that Mundungus had gone cross-eyes trying to keep it in view as we demanded the truth and interrogated him.

"When you cleaned out this house of anything valuable," Harry began, but Mundungus interrupted again.

"Sirius never cared about any of the junk —"

"Oh yeah? What about the other owner of the house you bloody gargoyle —!" I bellowed at him but was interrupted when there came a sound of pattering feet, a blaze of shining copper, an echoing clang, and a shriek of agony: Kreacher had taken a run at Mundungus and hit him over the head with a saucepan.