The Son of Lord Voldemort

Chapter 99

"Are you sure that you want this, Sirius?" Remus asked. Sirius pretended not to hear the concern in his friends voice.

"It's fine," Sirius said. "The Order of the Phoenix needs a headquarters." He threw a small leather pouch with a faded green snake imposed in the center against the wall and it bounced off and landed on a large pile. "Besides, mother and father will be rolling in their graves with all their so-called enemies running about the house." He blew the dust off of a snake skin covered book. "Besides, it's going to be Christmas in a week, and it will be nice to have people here."

Sirius didn't want to tell Remus that the real reason he had offered Grimmauld Place to Dumbledore for the Order headquarters was because he wanted to be kept in the loop. It had been over a month since he had been released from St. Mungos, and he had been virtually kept in the dark. Dumbledore had been giving him vague answers and telling him that he would learn more once he was better, but Sirius was better and Dumbledore was still holding out on him. He knew that the only way to ensure that he was kept in the loop would be to have members of the Order constantly reporting their findings and plans around him. Sirius also knew that Dumbledore was hiding something from him, and he was going to find out what it was.

"If you're sure," Remus acquiesced. Remus picked up a tattered old book. "We would be able to remove all of the dark objects quicker if Kreacher were to help us."

"I don't want that filthy creatures help," Sirius said.

"Sirius, you really should be nicer to him," Remus said. "It isn't his fault that he's gone mad. The poor creature had been locked in this old decrepit house by himself for more than a decade."

Sirius barked out a laugh. "If he thought this was bad, he should've tried Azkaban. I would've traded places with him in a heartbeat." He added under his breath, "Not that the smelly little bastard has a heart."

Sirius pretended not to see the pitying look that Remus was shooting him. He still had a hard time talking about his time in Azkaban. He had told Remus how lonely and cold it had been, but he couldn't bring himself to tell his best friend more than that. Remus would only worry if he knew that Sirius woke up every morning covered in sweat and screaming. Sirius didn't know how he had yet to lose his voice.

It had been bad enough that he had to tell Dumbledore, Remus, and Amelia why he had escaped from Azkaban in the first place. He had dealt with their looks of pity and horror as he told them that he came to the point that he couldn't take it anymore. The cold he felt from the time he woke up in the morning until he passed out each night from exhaustion. That the goop he was fed everyday to keep him alive began to taste like blood, and he had realized that it wasn't the food, but that he was clenching his jaw so tight that his teeth were pushing themselves into his gums. He couldn't stand the silence, only broken by screams of pain and agony. The final straw had been when the man in the cell next to him had died, and Sirius heard him take his final shuddering breath. That sound had bore into Sirius' brain and he could hear it when he closed his eyes. He knew he was going to die, but he hadn't wanted it to be in that place. If he was going to die, he was going to feel the sun on his face one last time.

Honestly, Sirius hadn't expected to survive his escape. He had been too weak, both mentally and physically. He had planned on escaping from the tower, feeling the sun on his skin, and jumping into the cold water, where he would try to swim to shore, but no doubt drown from exhaustion. Yet surprisingly, he had made it to shore. When he walked out of the water and down the beach he had come across a young boy who had looked so much like Remus, and suddenly he had realized that he had one thing left to live for. So he had found an abandoned house, some muggles had been gone for vacation, and he cleaned himself up, before heading off to Hogsmeade. He didn't know why Hogsmeade, he just felt drawn there. Maybe because some of his happiest memories had come from sneaking into the picturesque village. Telling them those painful memories was enough, he couldn't bare to tell even Remus much more than that.

Sirius pulled himself from his thoughts, and tossed aside an old chipped goblet and picked up a locket made of heavy gold with a serpentine S in glittering green stone inlay on the front. He turned it around in his hand and attempted to open the golden clasp, but it wouldn't budge.

"This stupid locket," Sirius muttered.

"What?" Remus asked, looking up from a dusty book.

"Nothing," Sirius said. He tossed the locket into the pile. "Kreacher!"

A pop sounded and a tiny creature appeared. Kreacher had a bulbous, snout-like nose, bloodshot eyes, many folds of skin, and white hair growing out of his bat-like ears. He wore a faded white smock that bore the Black family crest over the sole pocket.

"The filthy blood traitor called Kreacher," the house elf said. "Kreacher didn't want to come, oh no, but Kreacher must, oh yes, Kreacher must."

"Shut up!" Sirius snapped. "Make yourself useful and throw that junk out."

Kreacher's large eyes followed Sirius' line of sight and his eyes bugged out.

"Those items belong to my mistress!" Kreacher screeched. "They belong to my mistress, and they cannot be thrown out!"

"Your mistress is dead," Sirius said coldly. "Rotting in hell where she belongs."

"Sirius!" Remus yelled.

Kreacher made a hissing sound.

"Throw them away Kreacher," Sirius said. "Now."

Kreacher reluctantly gathered the dark items in his arms, muttering all the while about blood traitors and filth. The house elf paused as he reached to pick up the locket.

"Kreacher, I said now," Sirius said gruffly, his eyes narrowed.

"Filthy, blood traitor, embarrassment," Kreacher muttered as he shoved the locket into his pocket. "Blight on the proud Black family tree."

"Proud," Sirius scoffed. "More like the house of delusional sociopaths."

"How dare master speak ill of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black," Kreacher said, several pointed teeth bared.

"I can say whatever I please," Sirius said, as he turned his back on the house elf.

Kreacher glared one last time at Sirius before exiting the room, muttering curses under his breath as he went.

"Can you at least try to be kind?" Remus asked in exasperation.

"Why should I bother?" Sirius asked. "Kreacher was rude to me my entire life." He looked pointedly at Remus. "And did you forget what he called you this morning?" Remus' eyes flashed.

"No, of course I didn't," Remus said. "But you need to be careful, Sirius. House elves have more power than you think."

"Yeah, yeah," Sirius muttered. "Let's just finish up with this room. The Weasley's are arriving in the morning after Molly picks the kids up from the train station."