Only Ash Remains

Chapter 8

The moment Harry woke, the soft light of dawn filtering through his blinds, he knew what he was going to do that day. He threw on his clothes, downed his pills and potions, and clattered down the stairs to the kitchen. Narcissa had yet to arrive that morning; the kitchen was empty. Kreacher poked his head around the door to his den as Harry entered.

"Master is needing something?" Kreacher asked hopefully, stepping fully into the kitchen. Harry noticed that he'd exchanged his ratty old tea towel for a new one — it was almost blindingly white. He looked as if he'd given himself a good scrubbing, too. Harry thought that he wouldn't say Kreacher's skin was pink, exactly — it was still grey, but it was definitely pinker.

He stood taller, too; Harry was surprised to see that he didn't look as old when he wasn't hunched over. His eyes caught on the necklace dangling around Kreacher's neck and he realised that he, too, had worn a horcrux. He shuddered, remembering what that had felt like. How it had hung heavier around his neck each day. He'd felt the urge to hunch over too, by the time he'd been able to take it off.

Harry shook his head, shaking away the memories. "No thanks, Kreacher. I'm just going to get breakfast going." He pulled open the cupboard and rifled through the pans, feeling the urge to make something different. He thought for a minute, then snapped his fingers. Omelettes. He would make omelettes. Which meant he would need...

He set the skillet on the counter and turned to gather ingredients from the pantry, but soon realised he had a problem.

"Kreacher?" he called.

Kreacher appeared beside him. The crack of Apparition startled Harry and he stumbled, catching himself on one of the shelves.

"Kreacher," Harry said, staring down at him, "why did you Apparate? Weren't you just over there?" He pointed across the room.

Kreacher shrugged his bony shoulders. "Master called. Apparition was faster."

"But that's..." Harry sighed in defeat. "Fine. Kreacher, can you get some tomatoes and mushrooms and..." he thought for a moment. "And cheese. Oh, and more eggs. Please?"

Kreacher snapped his fingers and disappeared. Before Harry even made it back to the counter, Kreacher was unloading the food there. Harry shook his head, wondering at the speed the house-elf could muster when he was inclined to.

Harry cracked the eggs into a large metal bowl and began to whisk them, absentmindedly whistling a cheerful tune. Then he turned to the vegetables Kreacher had lined neatly up on the cutting board and began to chop.

He was just preparing to flip the first omelette when Narcissa stepped into the kitchen.

"Good morning, Harry, dear," Narcissa said. "You're up early."

He nodded, concentrating on the pan. It was almost time... Now! He flipped the omelet, browning the other side, then slid it onto a plate and offered it to her. "I hope omelettes are okay," he said, suddenly self-conscious. "I thought we could have something different today."

She took the plate with a smile. "It looks lovely. Thank you."

Harry found himself smiling back and turned back to the stove, pouring more eggs into the pan. When that omelette was done, he plated it and slid it in front of Lucius, who had joined Narcissa at the table and was sipping his morning tea while reading the Prophet.

He made a third omelette and was about to sit down when he remembered Malfoy. You don't have to make him one, he thought, but he found himself setting the plate aside and cracking another egg.

"Take this to Malfoy, once we've gone?" he asked Narcissa, not looking at her, focusing instead on whisking the eggs.

"Of course," she said. "Thank you."