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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

-: fifth year :-

── IN WHICH THE TAPESTRY IS EXAMINED

. . .


"... And there's the Mudblood, standing there bold as brass, oh if my Mistress knew, oh how she'd cry, and there's a new boy, Kreacher doesn't know his name, what is he doing here, Kreacher doesn't know..." Kreacher continued after a moment, and Hermione looked to Aviana, to see if she would say anything.

"This is Harry, Kreacher," said Hermione tentatively. "Harry Potter."

Kreacher's pale eyes widened and he muttered faster and more furiously than ever at the mention of Harry. "The Mudblood is talking to Kreacher as though she is my friend, if Kreacher's Mistress saw him in such company, oh what would she say —"

"Don't call her a Mudblood!" said Ron and Ginny together, very angrily. Aviana continued to examine her nails. The conversation with the others and Kreacher drifted through her mind, not entirely listening but having the feeliing that it wasn't going as well as she thought it was, looking up, finally taking notice. 

"Is it true? Is it Harry Potter? Kreacher can see the scar, it must be true, that's that boy who stopped the Dark Lord, Kreacher wonders how he did it -" Kreacher said, and Aviana tutted, the gaze of the others drifting back to her. 

"So now you decide to say something?" Ron said, and Aviana rolled her eyes.

"I didn't realise I had to be a part of every conversation this stupid household has. What did I miss that was so important, huh? Merlin." Aviana sighed, looking back to the twins and Kreacher. 

"What do you want anyway?" George asked. 

Kreacher's huge eyes darted onto George. "Kreacher is cleaning," he said evasively.  

"A likely story," said a voice behind the group. Sirius had come back; he was glowering at the elf from the doorway. The noise in the hall had abated; perhaps Mrs Weasley and Mundungus had moved their argument downinto the kitchen. At the sight of Sirius, Kreacher flung himselfinto a ridiculously low bow that flattened his snout-like nose on the floor, Aviana nodded in approval, the stupid house-elf finally acting like he should be and not calling people names.

 "Stand up straight," said Sirius impatiently. "Now, what areyou up to?"

"Kreacher is cleaning," the elf repeated. "Kreacher lives to serve the noble house of Black -"

 "— and it's getting blacker every day, it's filthy," said Sirius. 

"Master always liked his little joke," said Kreacher, bowing again, and continuing in an undertone. "Master was a nasty ungrateful swine who broke his mother's heart -"

"My mother didn't have a heart, Kreacher," Sirius snapped. "She kept herself alive out of pure spite."

"Sounds pretty much like me right now." Aviana mumbled under her breath, only Harry and Hermione - the two closest to her - hearing it.

 Kreacher bowed again and said, "Whatever Master says," then muttered furiously, "Master is not fit to wipe slime from his mother's boots, oh my poor Mistress, what would she say if she saw Kreacher serving him, how she hated him, what a disappointment he was —" 

Aviana frowned, it was getting a little bit much at this point. "I asked you what you were up to," Sirius said coldly. "Everytime you show up pretending to be cleaning, you sneak something off to your room so we can't throw it out."

"Kreacher would never move anything from its proper place in Master's house," said the elf, then muttered very fast, "Mistress would never forgive Kreacher if the tapestry was thrown out, seven centuries it's been in the family, Kreacher must save it, Kreacher will not let Master and the blood traitors and the brats destroy it —"

"And I still don't get a bloody nickname." Aviana rolled her eyes. "Stupid house elf."

"I thought it might be that," Sirius continued, casting a disdainful look at the opposite wall. "She'll have put another Permanent Sticking Charm on the back of it, I don't doubt, but if I can get rid of it I certainly will.Now go away, Kreacher." It seemed that Kreacher did not dare disobey a direct order; nevertheless, the look he gave Sirius as he shuffled out past him was similar to that of deepest loathing and he muttered all the way out of the room. 

"Sirius, he's not right in the head," said Hermione pleadingly, "I don't think he realises we can hear him... If you could just set him free-" And with that, Aviana zoned out. Kreacher could never be set free, especially not at this time. He knew far too much about the Order.

Out of the corner of her eye, Aviana saw Sirius stride across the room, where the tapestry Kreacher had been trying to protect hung the length of the wall. The others followed, and Aviana, curious as ever, followed them, peering over Hermione's head once again. 

'The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Toujours Pur'

"Always pure." Aviana said, reading the French besides the title. "Huh, funny when you have Andromeda-" She paused when she saw everyone looking at her. "Draco talks. A lot." 

"You're not on here!" said Harry, after scanning the bottom of the tree, all of them decidedly ignoring what Aviana had said. 

"I used to be there," said Sirius, pointing at a small, round, charred hole in the tapestry, rather like a cigarette burn. "My sweet old mother blasted me off after I ran away from home - Kreacher's quite fond of muttering the story under hisbreath." 

"You ran away from home?"

"When I was about sixteen," said Sirius. "I'd had enough."

 "Where did you go?" asked Harry, staring at him. 

"Your dad's place," said Sirius. "Your grandparents were really good about it; they sort of adopted me as a second son. Yeah, I camped out at your dad's during the school holidays, and then when I was seventeen I got a place of my own, my Uncle Alphard had left me a decent bit of gold — he's been wiped off here too, that's probably why — anyway, after that I looked after myself. I was always welcome at Mr and Mrs Potter's for Sunday lunch, though."

"But.. why did you..?" Someone asked.

"Leave?" Sirius smiled bitterly and ran a hand through his long, unkempt hair. "Because I hated the whole lot of them: my parents, with their pure-blood mania, convinced that to be a Black made you practically royal... my idiot brother, soft enough to believe them.. that's him."

Sirius jabbed a finger at the very bottom of the tree, at thename Regulus Black. A date of death (some fifteen years previously) followed the date of birth. 

"Hey Sirius." Aviana said, gaze focused on the tapestry. Hermione moved out of the way so that she could point over at what she was looking at.

They were all staring at her, watching as her features softened over the thing she was pointing at. "I didn't know you had a child."



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