Glittering with the trinkets Kreacher had salvaged. The only thing there was an old copy

of Nature’s Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy. Refusing to believe his eyes, Harry

Snatched up the blankets and shook them. A dead mouse fell out and rolled dismally

Across the floor. Ron groaned as he threw himself into a kitchen chair; Hermione closed

Her eyes.

“It’s not over yet,” said Harry, and he raised his voice and called, “Kreacher!”

There was a loud crack and the house elf that Harry had so reluctantly inherited

from Sirius appeared out of nowhere in front of the cold and empty fireplace: tiny, half

Human-sized, his pale skin hanging off him in folds, white hair sprouting copiously from

His batlike ears. He was still wearing the filthy rag in which they had first met him, and

The contemptuous look he bent upon Harry showed that his attitude to his change of

Ownership had altered no more than his outfit.

“Master,” croaked Kreacher in his bullfrog’s voice, and he bowed low; muttering

to his knees, “back in my Mistress’s old house with the blood-traitor Weasley and the

Mudblood –“

“I forbid you to call anyone ‘blood traitor’ or ‘Mudblood,’” growled Harry. He

Would have found Kreacher, with his snoutlike nose and bloodshot eyes, a distinctively

Unlovable object even if the elf had not betrayed Sirius to Voldemort.

“I’ve got a question for you,” said Harry, his heart beating rather fast as he looked

down at the elf, “and I order you to answer it truthfully. Understand?”

“Yes, Master,” said Kreacher, bowing low again. Harry saw his lips moving

Soundlessly, undoubtedly framing the insults he was now forbidden to utter.

“Two years ago,” said Harry, his heart now hammering against his ribs, “there

Was a big gold locket in the drawing room upstairs. We threw it out. Did you steal it

back?”

There was a moment’s silence, during which Kreacher straightened up to look

Harry full in the face. Then he said, “Yes.”

“Where is it now?” asked Harry jubilantly as Ron and Hermione looked gleeful.

Kreacher closed his eyes as though he could not bear to see their reactions to his

Next word.

“Gone.”

“Gone?” echoed Harry, elation floating out of him, “What do you mean, it’s

gone?”

The elf shivered. He swayed.

“Kreacher,” said Harry fiercely, “I order you –“

“Mundungus Fletcher,” croaked the elf, his eyes still tight shut. “Mundungus

Fletcher stole it all; Miss Bella’s and Miss Cissy’s pictures, my Mistress’s gloves, the

Order of Merlin, First Class, the goblets with the family crest, and – and – “

Kreacher was gulping for air: His hollow chest was rising and falling rapidly, then

His eyes flew open and he uttered a bloodcurdling scream.

“—and the locket, Master Regulus’s locket. Kreacher did wrong, Kreacher failed

in his orders!”

Harry reacted instinctively: As Kreacher lunged for the poker standing in the grate,

he launched himself upon the elf, flattening him. Hermione’s scream mingled with

Kreacher’s but Harry bellowed louder than both of them: “Kreacher, I order you to stay

still!”

He felt the elf freeze and released him. Kreacher lay flat on the cold stone floor,

Date: 2015-12-11; view: 734