Out of Time

Chapter 32

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, "Do I dare?" and, "Do I dare?"

- The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, T.S. Eliot

Hermione can't hold back tears at Kreacher's tale. Even though the derelict elf is rather like Walburga Black with a gravelly voice, what happened to him still breaks her heart.

He won't let her comfort him, though. She should have known not to try but it was automatic to reach out. He's so upset and he's probably never had a single hug in his entire life, which makes her want to cry for him all over again.

He recoils with the typical slur as his armour and shield, the one she scarcely registers in this house of Walburga Black's. But Ron's reaction to it finally bridges the distance between them. He defends her valiantly, even though the elf cringes away and Hermione hates to see that, too. But Ron leaping to her defence feels quite odd, in a good way. It feels like it's been a very, very long time since they've not merely sniped at one another - or just avoided any sort of meaningful conversation altogether.

"Thank you," she says quietly over Kreacher's unhinged sobbing. At these words, Ron's face brightens. She slides a handkerchief across the floor beneath Kreacher's notice, and Ron quickly hands it to the elf.

Coming from Ron, the elf deigns to use it. He honks his nose and Harry takes the opportunity of relative quiet to issue the command that Kreacher never call Hermione that word again.

Hermione hates it when he gives commands to the elf. He's always nice about it (well, typically. This one has a stronger timbre) but there's no denying that it's a command. This is made plain four minutes later when Kreacher violates the directive and has to punish himself.

Harry commands him to stop that, too, and the elf is so twisted around in his orders he just sits down on the floor, miserable. Tears leak silently from his eyes and Hermione can't stay in the room for another minute.

* * *

One good thing comes of it - Harry and Kreacher reach a relationship of mutual respect at last.

They've all had a rough go of it. It isn't just the stress of being driven from the Burrow, or of not knowing for absolute certainty what happened after they disapparated. It's also smaller things, little perceived injustices and grievances they can't shake. The fact that Harry and Hermione both received bequests from Dumbledore was impossible to ignore, once the greater festivities of Harry's birthday and Bill's wedding had passed. Hermione should have considered the implications of Ron being left out of that kind of thing, but she'd had other things on her mind.

Once she'd realised it grated on Ron, being left out, she almost tried to mitigate the point. Neither she nor Ron has been close to Dumbledore, after all - but that argument is rendered moot once Hermione received a bequest and Ron had not. Why? What was it for? She couldn't even answer that, and resigned herself to not bringing it up. The sooner her copy of Beedle the Bard fell into the background consciousness, the better off they all were.

She focussed on the positive progress instead, and there has absolutely been progress of mutual respect between Harry and Kreacher. At least, as mutual as it can be when one party is technically the slave of the other. But Harry (and even Ron, so long as Kreacher toes the party line re: slurs towards Hermione) is kind to the elf. Polite. They both try to ask rather than state, and Harry usually even remembers to add 'please'. They thank him and compliment him, and the elf practically doubles in size as he puffs up with pride.

For Hermione's part, she does soften a bit towards the traditional house elf stance of service. While she'll never understand it, the little elf is vividly happiest when Harry is happy with him. There's no doubt that he's thriving. He's washing and taking care of himself again. Even his gait is spritely for such an elderly elf. He practically beams at them; well, not at Hermione. But still, it's heartening to see.