Chapter One Hundred and Eleven

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"What do you want anyway?" George asked, grabbing Kreacher's attention.
"Kreacher is cleaning," he said evasively.
"A likely story," Sirius glared, leaning against the doorway.
At the sight of Sirius, Kreacher flung himself into a ridiculously low bow that flattened his snoutlike nose on the floor.
"Stand up straight," said Sirius impatiently, "Now, what are you 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."
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 —"
"I asked you what you were up to," said Sirius coldly. "Every time 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 —"
"I thought it might be that," said Sirius, 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."
"— comes back from Azkaban ordering Kreacher around, oh my poor Mistress, what would she say if she saw the house now, scum liv- ing in it, her treasures thrown out, she swore he was no son of hers and he's back, they say he's a murderer too —"
"Keep muttering and I will be a murderer!" said Sirius irritably, and he slammed the door shut on the elf.
"Sirius, he's not right in the head," said Hermione pleadingly, "I don't think he realizes we can hear him."
"He's been alone too long," said Sirius, "taking mad orders from my mother's portrait and talking to himself, but he was always a foul little —"
"If you just set him free," said Hermione hopefully, "maybe —"
"We can't set him free, he knows too much about the Order," said Sirius curtly. "And anyway, the shock would kill him. You suggest to him that he leaves this house, see how he takes it."
Sirius walked across the room, where the tapestry Kreacher had been trying to protect hung the length of the wall, all of us following.
"The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black" Lee read aloud, "Tourjous pur - what does that mean?"
"Always pure" Sirius scoffed, hand running along the parchment.
"No offence, Sirius, but if you were a muggle we'd probably call your lot Tories" I frowned, looking at the tree with distaste.
This made him laugh, "When I first met Remus' parents, his dad told me that they thought I was going to be a posh boy like that - coming from money like I did. Imagine their surprise when I turned up on my motorbike in my leather jacket"
Hermione snorted beside me, "I can't imagine"

As Harry pulled Sirius aside to talk about the tree, Fred tugged on my hair gently.
"What?"
"What's a Tories?" he asked.
I burst into laughter, patting his shoulder fondly, "Oh you poor poor magician. You're so lucky you're cute"
"Wha- what do you mean?" he whined, burying his face into my neck as he wrapped me in his arms, "Teach me your muggle ways"
"You fucking dweeb" I giggled, attempting (and failing) to wiggle out of his hold.
I cried out as Molly entered the room, reaching my arms towards her, "Mrs Weasley! Help!"
Seeing my position, she simply laughed, handing out sandwiches to everyone, "That's a mess you'll have to get yourself out of, dear"
George snorted, taking a bite from his sandwich, "It's a bit too late for that mum - if she wanted to get out she should've run away 6 years ago"
I burst out laughing, Fred just frowning at his brother and tightening his hold on me.

Lee groaned at that, "Merlin, we're old"

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Lee groaned at that, "Merlin, we're old"

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