Let Me Love You // DRARRY

Chapter Twenty Two - Reconciliation

The morning had arisen and Twelve Grimmauld Place was eerily quiet, as if for the first time in a millennium the building was experiencing true ataraxia. There was no gloominess hanging thick in the air and tranquillity prospered.

Had there been windows in the dining room, first a thousand tiny droplets of condensation would have appeared on the glass panes and then as the temperature dropped further outside beautiful organic patterns of crystalline would have formed And had those windows been open the room would have heard the winter suspiration punctuated by the song of birds calling through the frosty air.

However, as there was nothing but stone making up the four walls in the dining room the only visible hints of the weather outside were the curls of breath which dissipated after escaping the mouths of any one of the three occupants of the room, and the way the trio slightly shivered sporadically.

Kreacher entered the room, silent as ever and going straight to the fire, quickly lighting it before continuing with his other chores.

Kreacher basked in the quiet, he continued to work away. Even though Harry had unbound Kreacher of his magical contract by presenting him with clothing, he had refused to leave the house unless for errands outside and would not swap his rags for better clothing. He would dress and serve like a house elf until he dropped dead, that seemed to be the only thing he knew and the only thing he would ever know.

As Kreacher steadily worked himself through the daily chores he insisted on doing, he closed his eyes for a few seconds and let himself imagine a time back where he served the great House of Black. He mourned for the loss of a master or mistress who held the name Black, but he would have to adapt.

He had grown to almost like the Potter boy, he had let Kreacher continue to serve his purpose in the household and he did have black blood in him, it was diluted and contaminated, but it was there.

He didn't even mind the peculiar taste he had, not having a preference for either males or females. If anything, it could play into his favour. There was the growing possibility that he and Draco Malfoy would end up sharing a bed, and if that happened then there would always be a Malfoy in the house, a Malfoy who's mother was a Black.

In the end, Kreacher thought he had come out the other side of the war better than before. He still didn't fully trust the Muggle-borns, there was the one girl who Master Potter insisted bringing into the house regularly, but he hated to think about a number of people killed. Their blood may have been dirty, but it was in the end, magic blood after all.

The traitor Sirius Black had turned his back on his family, yes, but he was still a pureblood. He was of the finest elite from a family older than records could date. He was the last male Black, the family name would die without him. And it was the death eaters that had done that, it was Bellatrix who had murdered her own blood.

However, he now had a new master to serve, and the visitor friend, Draco Malfoy seemed set on restoring the house back to its former glory, he took pride in his ancestors' home.

And so he got back to his work, his routine that was his comfort. His errands that gave him hope that eventually, everything would settle down, he would have a master, maybe two with how things were progressing, and a grand house to upkeep.

"Kreacher, are you sure you don't want to eat first?" Harry asked the house elf a second time.

"As Kreacher said, he will eat after he has swept and dusted. Not before." He replied with. Annoyed that his master did not understand that as a loyal house-elf, he had little time for relaxing, eating was a luxury to be had after all other tasks had been completed.

"As I was saying," Hermione said after a brief look of pity towards Kreacher. "we need to go find Ron. Since last night he's not come back, he could be anywhere. That includes you, Malfoy. We're all in this search party."