Potter's Girl / Butterfly Effect.

97. Kreacher's Redemption

CHAPTER NINETY-SEVEN;

KREACHER'S REDEMPTION

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Cassie lifted her head, chest heaving and eyes narrowed maliciously upon the wrinkly house-elf before her.

"Kreacher," she tried once more, voice wavering in its forced steadiness, "where did you get that bloody locket?"

"Disgusting," muttered Kreacher in reply, crinkling his long elf nose and turning his back on Cassie. "Kreacher will not answer any of her questions — a stain on the Black family tree, she is..."

"My father is dead," shouted Cassie, now completely out of patience after fighting with the elf for nearly an entire hour. "That means that you have got to answer my questions, whether you like it or not. Kreacher — I demand you to answer me with the entire truth — where did you get that locket around your neck?"

Kreacher twisted the necklace around his long fingers, narrowing his eyes on Cassie and clearly having a great debate within himself over whether or not to answer her. The locket that he fiddled with in the meantime was one Cassie knew she had seen before — it had been the Horcrux that Regulus Black had died to retrieve; the Horcrux that Harry should have been attempting to destroy at that very second.

So how the bloody hell did Kreacher have it?

"Master Weasley," the elf finally replied in a meek and mumbly voice, clearly ashamed in himself for being so weak. "Master Weasley gifted it to Kreacher — and he took the other one for himself, him and Harry Potter and H-Hermione Granger." It took a great deal of effort, but Kreacher said Hermione's real name instead of 'Mudblood' or something else derogatory.

Cassie's mouth parted and she furrowed her brow, taken aback and unable to form a reply. "W– you said Weasley? As in... Ron? Harry and Hermione? They've been here?"

Kreacher gave a curt nod, puffing his chest out, clearly proud of himself for knowing something Cassie didn't.

"When?" Cassie's voice was gaining urgency and she circled the counter island in the center of the kitchen, kneeling in front of Kreacher. "When did they come see you, Kreacher? Did they say where they were going?"

Kreacher shook his head this time, and his shoulders drooped as if this fact disappointed him. "Kreacher was being nice," he said glumly. "Kreacher served Weasley, Potter, and Granger meals every day they were here. Master Weasley presented Kreacher with his locket... M-Master Regulus's old locket!"

   Suddenly, Kreacher burst into loud, uncontrollable sobs and threw himself onto Cassie, using her hair as a tissue for the fat teardrops that rolled down his chin.

   "Oh," said Cassie, very unable to think of anything else to say.

   "They were so kind to Kreacher," he wailed, wiping his eyes with Cassie's shirt. "So, so kind. Kinder than anyone has been to Kreacher in years – decades."

   "Oh," Cassie said again, but this time with a tone of understanding to it. "Oh, I get it. Nobody's ever been nice to you, have they?"

   "No!" he cried with another loud wail. "Kreacher has been kicked and thrown down stairs and spat on, but never has Kreacher been treated with such kindness as Harry Potter and his friends treated Kreacher!"

"It's okay, Kreacher," said Cassie, patting the elf very awkwardly on the back to comfort him – and she could have sworn she saw the ghost of her father laughing at her from the doorway. "I-I can be nice to you, I suppose, if you treat me the same way? Is that a fair trade?"