Year 5 | Where the Wild Things Are

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LILY POTTER HAD never taken notice to such a fact before, but she had only ever met one house elf in her life

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LILY POTTER HAD never taken notice to such a fact before, but she had only ever met one house elf in her life. Harry and herself had met a friendly and loyal house elf named Dobby in their second year. Of course, he had gotten them ground and killed nearly twice, but after discovering his motives, they became friends with the creature. In fact, they had freed Dobby from his masters and ever since, the house elf had not only stolen his everlasting loyalty, but declared his friendship to them. He was a pleasant creature.

           Kreacher, the Black family house elf, was nothing like Dobby.

           Wearing a mangy old pillowcase as a toga-garment and a scowl on his old face that was just as revolting, Kreacher was definitely among the ruder house elves. He cursed and swore aloud, not bothering to do so discretely, as Hermione and even Harry and Lily passed by him. Today, Harry and Lily were the victims of his tongue lashing.

           "Nasty brats, standing there as bold as brass. Harry and Lillian Potter, the boy and girl who stopped the Dark Lord. Friends of Mudbloods and blood-traitors alike." spat Kreacher, as they paused on the landing of the stairs, astonished by his rudeness. "If my poor mistress only knew..."

           Lily looked from Kreacher to Harry, "Well, Bah Humbug to you, too."

           "Kreacher!" Sirius snapped from the bottom of the stairs, "That's enough of your bile. Away with you!"

           "Of course, master." said Kreacher in a honeyed voice as he bowed, "Kreacher lives to serve the noble house of Black."

           As he walked off, Sirus looked at his godchildren, "Sorry about that. He never was very pleasant, even when I was a boy. Not to me, anyway."

          They followed him down the stairs and to the first floor, where he brought them into an empty room.

           "What, you grew up here?" questioned Harry.

           "This is my parents' house. I offered it to Dumbledore as headquarters for the Order." nodded Sirius, "About the only useful thing I've been able to do."

           Sirius watched as Lily traced her fingers over the painting on the wall. There was a large tree and on each branch, descending down, was a member of the Black family.

           "This is the Black family tree. My deranged cousin," Sirius pointed to the painting of a woman with thick, curly-black hair and a wicked smile. Lily recognized the woman; all she needed was a crazed look in her eyes and dirty, matted hair and she was the spitting image of the woman who had tortured Neville Longbottom's parents.

            Bellatrix Lestrange.

           "Bellatrix Lestrange." Lily looked at Sirius, "She was a Deatheater. She's the one who tortured the Longbottoms."

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