Call Me Vengeful

Love Elves Hate Thieves

Chapter Eleven: Love Elves, Hate Thieves

***Embry's POV***

"They're still out there," I muttered to myself as I watched the Death Eaters still hanging around the courtyard. It had been nearly three hours since we had sent Kreacher out looking for Mundungus and he still hadn't returned. We'd been stuck sitting around the house, awaiting his arrival.

"Did you really expect anything else?" Ron asked as he fiddled with the radio, trying to find a station that might have news on what was going on with the Ministry now that the Minister was dead.

"They have flesh memories." Hermione spoke up out of the blue. I turned around in my seat by the window to see her watching Harry and he held the Snitch in his hands, they wings fluttering as it tried to escape his hold. "Snitches. They're never touched by bare skin until the Seeker captures it. Even the wizard who fabricates it wears gloves. That way, if there's a dispute, the Snitch can identify who first touched it."

"You mean...it remembers me?" Harry looked at the small winged orb in his hand.

"When Scrimgeour first gave it to you, I thought it might open at your touch - that Dumbledore had hidden something in it." She admitted.

I watched as it's wings started to slow, wondering if her assumption had been right when there was a loud crack coming from the kitchen. None of us wasted any time in hopping to our feet and hurrying down the small hall. The room was filled with the sound of banging pots when a small and all too familiar figure appeared.

"Dobby?" Harry and I said at the same time.

"Harry Potter! Embry Black! So long it's been-" Dobby smiled at the both of us. Before he could say anymore though Kreacher's hand reached out and grabbed him by the neck, pulling him back. Not a second later the two of them tumbled across the room with the familiar wet figure of Mundungus. He stood up to his feet quickly and was just as quick to pull out his wand when he spotted us.

"Expelliarmus!" Hermione casted before he could, sending his wand flying so I easily caught it in my own hand.

"As requested, Kreacher has returned with the thief Mundungus Fletcher." Kreacher gave a small bow and a snarl looking smile to show of his jagged and yellow teeth.

"Dobby has also returned with the thief Mundungus Fletcher!" Dobby added proudly as he hopped up onto the table.

"What are you playing at - setting a pair of bleedin' 'ouse-elves on me!" Mundungus snapped at us, clearly displeased with being pulled away from whatever he'd been doing earlier.

"Dobby was only trying to help! Dobby saw Kreacher in Diagon Alley, which Dobby thought was curious. And then Dobby heard Kreacher mention Harry Potter's name, which Dobby thought was very curious. And then Dobby saw that Kreacher was talking to the thief Mundungus Fletcher, which Dobby thought was very, very -" Dobby tried to explain as though he were in trouble.

"I'm no thief, you foul little git. I'm a purveyer of rare and wondrous objects -" Mundungus tried to defend himself, at which I could only snort at.

"You're a bloody thief and everyone knows it." I glared at him, my hair taking on a slightly red color. "Just like everyone knows that you right as well of killed Mad-Eye when you apparated, you bloody coward."

"Listen, I panicked that night, all right? I never volunteered to die for you, mate. Can I help it if Mad-Eye fell off his broom -" He tried to twist the facts.

"Stop lying." Hermione practically hissed the words. She went to take a step towards him, anger burning in her eyes but she was stopped by Ron grabbing her shoulder.

"Piece of advice. Let's not rehash old times. Got it... mate?" Ron suggested.

"When you turned this place over - don't deny it! - you found a locket, am I right?" Harry questioned him as I handed Ron Mundungus's wand, not liking the feel of a wand in my hands.

"Why? Was it valuable?" His eyes lit up at the possibilities, it made me sick.

"You've still got it." Hermione guessed.

"No. He's worried he should have got more money for it." Ron shook his head.

"Wouldn't be difficult, would it? Bleedin' gave it away, din' I? There I was, pitching me wares in Diagon Alley when some ministry hag comes up and asks to see my license. Says she's of a mind to lock me up and would've, too, she hadn' taken a fancy to that locket." Mundungus rolled his eyes as he started to pace a little, his dirty little fingers brushing against the wall as he did so.

"Who was she? The witch?" Harry walked over to him, practically caging him into the corner of the room that held a chair with a bunch of copies of the Daily Prophet. Mundungus's face scrunched up, showing how hard he was trying to think as he scratched his head. Glancing at the stack of prophets his eyes widened slightly as he picked one up.

"Well, she's right there, in't she? Bleedin' bow an' all." He held the paper out to Harry. Over his shoulder I looked at the large picture on the front page and could feel myself pale at who I saw. Her toad like face and beady eyes were all too familiar and made my hand sting as memories flooded through my mind of her punishments.

Delores Umbridge.