Post DH #6 . . . . . The pleasure of your company

Chapter 3

                                                           ______________

                                                           Mr. Harry Potter

                                                       12 Grimmauld Place

                                                                 London

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Harry closed the front door of 12 Grimauld Place and shrugging off his jacket, tossed it onto the coat tree in the corner.  He was bone tired and looking forward to his dinner and then a quiet evening.  As he passed the portrait of Walburga Black he saw, out of the corner of his eye, that she was watching him.  He stopped and turned to look up at her.

“Good evening, Mistress Black.”  Harry bowed slightly.

“Mister Potter.”  She regarded him with eyebrow arched.  “You look worn out.”

“I am a bit, but nothing that a good dinner and a glass of fire whiskey won’t help,” he replied.

“You sound like my son, Sirius; he had that same cocky attitude,” Walburga observed.

“Ah, then there must be a bit of the Black family blood in me after all,” teased Harry.

“Or he was a bad influence on you, is more likely,” she sniffed, but there was a twinkle in her eye.

“Yes, that’s probably more the case,” Harry agreed. “Kreacher?”

‘Pop’

“Yes, Master Harry,” said the ancient House-elf, as he appeared at Harry’s elbow.  “You is home late, sir.”

“Yes, I am a bit, but I have a couple of days off coming to me, Kreacher, so if you have dinner ready, I can start my rest and relaxation in style.”

“Oh, yes, Master, it is ready when you is wanting it.”

“Splendid.  Mistress Walburga, I’ll see you later.”

“Certainly Mister Potter,” replied the portrait, as she settled back in her chair and picked up a book from the small table at the side of her portrait.

“Kreacher, I’m just going to take a quick shower to get all of this dirt and grime off me and then I’ll be down for my dinner.”

“Very good Master Harry.  Oh, you is having two letters waiting, sir.  Do you want them at the table to read or in the lounge, after you is eating?”

“Just put them next to my plate and I’ll check and see what’s in them while I have dinner, thank you.”

“Yes, Master.”

The old House-elf turned and disappeared down the stairs in one direction and Harry ascended in the other direction to his bedroom to shower and change. 

It never ceased to amuse Harry how Kreacher had convinced his long dead Mistress that he, Harry, had singled handedly restored honor to the Black family name and avenged the deaths of her two sons, Regulus and Sirius. He was not altogether convinced that Kreacher had not thrown in a bit of House-elf magic to calm “old Mistress” down and curb her temper a bit. She eventually came to accept Harry as the rightful occupant of the Black family home.