Lucy Riddle and the Boy Who Lived

Battle Scars

Chapter Thirty-Four

The lot kept an eye out for the locket the next morning while Kreacher served them breakfast. They all thanked him — even Ron who Kreacher had kept calling a blood traitor, and Hermione a Mudblood out of habit — and ate silently. Kreacher had started to warm up to the four, making sure their clothes were clean and ironed, and that there was food on the table.

Though the Death-Eaters couldn't hear or see anything going on inside Grimmauld Place, they weren't taking the risk. Snape knew they would be coming here, and he was ready for them. He even set up tents outside the Black household. It looked like they were camping out . . . in the middle of a neighborhood.

After breakfast, they started their search for the locket. They probed the entire house excluding Sirius's bedroom. Sirius would never have it. If things were different, the only way Sirius would have a family heirloom would be if and when his mum placed it on his grave.

Kreacher had no idea where the locket could be. He hadn't seen it anywhere for a while now. The last time he saw it, it was in the living room — Mrs. Weasley's work station the year before.

"My mum probably threw it away." Ron groaned, covering his eyes with his large hands. "I'm sorry, guys. She was cleaning that one day, remember?"

Kreacher shook his head. "Kreacher took it before the blood traitor could touch it."

Ron groaned even louder. "Would you stop bloody calling my family that?"

"The only person who Kreacher has seen inside the house in the passed week was Mundungus Fletcher."

An idea popped inside Lucy's head. "Kreacher, will do you me a favor and bring him here"

He nodded and left with a pop! It didn't take long for Kreacher to come back, holding Mundungus's ear. Mundungus had be meaning to enter the house, trying to find more valuables to sell as she had discovered.

"Yo, Mundungus, where's the locket?" Lucy asked.

He scoffed. "And why would I tell you?"

She leaned down — he was sitting on the floor — until they were eye to eye. "Because, if you remember my family, you'd be smart enough to answer a simple question."

"Fine. I sold it to Dolores Umbridge. She gave me a lot of money for that piece of rubbish, and the only one willing to spend the amount I was selling it at."

Lucy cursed. "Okay. Then how did you even get here? There are Death-Eaters everywhere."

"Just find the perfect place to Disapparate, and you can leave this place unseen."

"Cool. You were a ball of sunshine when you were driving me to the Burrow last year. What happened to that man? Maybe I should change that.

"Obliviate."

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Harry went to Sirius's bedroom. It was the only place he hadn't been in, and he felt like there was something Sirius might be hiding from him. Harry just wanted to know the man who loved him.

He walked around the room, admiring his rebellious godfather. If Harry had the posters Sirius had in his room back at the Dursley's home, he would've been kicked out the second he even touch those posters on Sirius's wall.

Harry spotted a picture of Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black, and James Potter passed all the half-naked pictures of women. He looked so much like his father at his age. The same messy hair, careless smile, and facial structure. Only his eyes were different from his father ("You have your mother's eyes," said everyone).

On Sirius's desk, there was a piece of parchment. Harry picked it up and noticed that it was written in nice, neat handwriting. He wanted to say he remembered it, but he didn't have a single clue as to who had such beautiful penmanship like that.

Harry held it between his forefingers. His grip tightened as he read through the words, soaking it up. Tears sprang into his eyes.

He was reading a letter written by his mum.

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"Do you think Umbridge will be in the Ministry of Magic?"

"Ron, you're such an idiot. She's hiding from them!"

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I don't have a brain like yours."

"Who does?"

"L —"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence."

"Or else what?"

"Aguamenti."

Lucy sat on a couch watching a dripping Ron shoot back his own little charm of birds to attack Hermione. They were all waiting for Harry to plan their next task. Harry went to the bathroom, or so he said. Lucy knew he was lying.

Who takes half an hour in the bathroom?

Harry came down right after she thought that. He had a frantic look on his face as he sat down beside her. Harry didn't talk at all as she asked him what he was doing, and why the long face.

"Nothing" was his simple reply.

They heard a meow from behind them. Kreacher couldn't have made that sound even if he wanted to. Hermione's eyes lit up as she stared at her ugly, fluffy cat (who actually loved Harry, sorry Hermione) and grabbed that fur ball.

"CROOKSHANKS! I've missed you so much," Hermione cooed as she rubbed all his favorite spots. "What are you doing here?"

Crookshanks just continued to purr without a care in the world. When Hermione stopped petting him, he sat down on his paws and looked around. He noticed a map and crawled over to it.

He pointed at a spot. Harry should've thought of it before! Hermione smacked the middle of her forehead while Ron was staring at it like it was a haunted house he'd promised never to go to ever again. Lucy had never heard or seen it, having been stuck in her home most of her life.

"Meow," Crookshanks said as if trying to say, "I'll show you where it is."

"You'll take us there?" Lucy asked.

Crookshanks nodded his head.

"Great! We'll go tomorrow?"

Another nod and a few "yes" replies.

Lucy grabbed Hermione's — or was he Harry's? — cat and gave it a mighty squeeze, welcoming the pain feeling as Crookshanks shrieked, swiping at her face in an attempt to get her to release the poor Kneazle slash cat.

There's still the battle scars to prove it.