Slytherin's Son of Poseidon - year 5

If there was one thing Narcissa Malfoy hated more than bad fashion choices, it was a house elf with an attitude.

And Kreacher, unfortunately, had the worst attitude of all.

The old house-elf had been muttering insults under his breath ever since the Malfoys had stepped into Grimmauld Place.

"Filthy blood traitors… bringing their unworthy selves into Mistress’ house… the young master disgracing his ancestors, sitting in a Gryffindor’s lap…"

Draco, still perched comfortably on Harry’s lap, raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "I don’t like him."

"I don’t think he likes anyone,*" Harry muttered back.

Sirius rubbed his temples. "I’ve tried to deal with him. He doesn’t listen to me."

"Because you never learned proper authority," Narcissa said smoothly, stepping forward. "Allow me."

Kreacher barely had time to open his mouth for another insult before Narcissa tilted her head and looked at him.

"Kreacher," she said in that soft, dangerous tone that made grown men nervous. "That will be quite enough."

Kreacher froze. "Mistress Narcissa…?"

"Yes," she continued, stepping closer, her wand flicking in a casual, deadly sort of way. "You will cease your muttering. You will no longer insult the people in this house. And you will obey me now. Understood?"

Kreacher gulped. "But… but Mistress Walburga—"

"Is gone." Narcissa’s smile was polite but unyielding. "And you belong to Sirius now, do you not?"

Kreacher nodded hesitantly.

"And Sirius is my cousin," she continued. "Which means I am your new mistress as well. And I do not tolerate disrespect."

There was a long, tense pause.

Then Kreacher… bowed.

"Yes… Mistress Narcissa."

Draco, watching with wide eyes, whispered to Harry: "I love my mother."

Sirius, equally impressed, muttered: "Where the hell was this energy when we were kids?"

"You wouldn’t have survived it," Narcissa answered smoothly, before turning back to Kreacher. "Now, be a dear and prepare tea for everyone. And make sure the sitting room is actually clean this time."

Kreacher hesitated for only a second before scurrying off, still muttering—though notably, this time, the insults were gone.

"You just charmed him?" Harry asked, stunned.

"Naturally," Narcissa said lightly, examining her nails. "A true Black knows how to handle a house-elf."

Lucius looked at her proudly. "Perfection, my dear."

Draco smirked. "That was actually impressive."

"Obviously," Narcissa said smoothly. Then she turned to Sirius with a raised eyebrow. "I expect this place to be presentable by the time I visit next, Sirius."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Yes, mother."

She gave him a sharp look.

Sirius grinned.

And with that, Kreacher’s days of insulting everyone in Grimmauld Place were officially over.

---

It started at an Order meeting.

Harry and the others weren’t supposed to be there. But, of course, they had their ways.

"You know," Draco had whispered smugly, "if I were to hypothetically create a listening charm that would redirect the meeting audio to a completely different room…"

"Hypothetically," Hermione had whispered back, "that would be highly unethical."

"And yet," Harry had said casually, "if I also hypothetically convinced Sirius to ‘accidentally’ leave the door open, then—"

"—We’d have all the information we need," Draco had finished, smirking.

Which was exactly what had happened.

By the time the adults realized what was happening, Harry, Draco, Hermione, and the others had already gathered everything they needed about Voldemort’s movements.

The room was silent.

Lucius had one eyebrow raised. Snape was giving Harry the coldest stare imaginable.

Sirius, on the other hand, was outright grinning. "I knew you had it in you."

"That was deeply unethical," Remus said, sighing. "Very impressive, but unethical."

"And very Slytherin," Narcissa added, smiling slightly.

Snape exhaled sharply. "Potter, need I remind you that you are supposed to be the Golden Boy—"

"I am the Golden Boy," Harry interrupted, smirking. "*I just play the game *better.**"

There was a long pause.

Then Draco burst out laughing. "Merlin, I love you."

"I know," Harry said, grinning.

---

Lucius Malfoy sat in the grand drawing room of Malfoy Manor, his expression unreadable. The group—Harry, Draco, Hermione, Ron, Pansy, Blaise, and even the adults—watched as he took a measured sip of his drink before finally speaking.

"Fudge is sending someone to Hogwarts next year."

That alone made everyone's shoulders tense. But then Lucius continued, his tone carrying the slightest hint of irritation.

"Her name is Dolores Umbridge."

The room fell into absolute silence.

Sirius groaned immediately. "That hag? Are you serious?"

"No, you’re Sirius," Harry muttered, making Draco snicker before looking back at his father with a frown. "Why would Fudge send someone to Hogwarts?"

Lucius set down his glass carefully. "Because he is a paranoid fool who believes Dumbledore is using Hogwarts to build an army." He exhaled sharply. "And Umbridge… is his means of control."

Snape, who had been silent up until now, scoffed. "Fudge has always been an incompetent politician, but this is idiotic—even for him."

"What is she like?" Hermione asked warily.

Lucius gave her a cold look. "Imagine a toad in a pink cardigan with an obsession for power, an inflated sense of self-importance, and a disturbing love for authority."

Draco, who had been leaning against Harry lazily, suddenly sat up. "Wait," he said slowly. "You mean that woman? The one who—"

"Yes," Lucius interrupted, clearly irritated. "She used to work in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures—she hates werewolves, part-humans, and any magical beings that aren’t pureblood wizards. She’s also a firm believer that ‘children should be seen, not heard.’"

The room collectively winced.

"Oh, she’s going to love us," Blaise muttered sarcastically.

"And Fudge thinks this is a good idea?" Remus asked, his voice tight.

"Fudge thinks whatever soothes his paranoia is a good idea," Lucius replied coolly. "She’s being placed in the school under the guise of ‘High Inquisitor’—which means she’ll have more authority than any regular teacher."

There was another silence.

Then Harry sighed. "Well," he said, grinning slyly as he looked at his friends. "Looks like we’re going to have to make her life very difficult, aren’t we?"

Draco smirked. "*Oh, absolutely."

Sirius burst out laughing."I have never been prouder."

---

The mood in Grimmauld Place was tense. It always was on nights like these—when Snape had to attend a Death Eater meeting. Everyone pretended to be occupied, but the undercurrent of anxiety was impossible to ignore.

Harry sat on the couch, arms crossed, eyes flickering toward the clock. Draco was beside him, gripping his wrist lightly, though he wasn’t saying anything. Sirius paced near the fireplace, his expression dark.

"You’d think Voldemort would get bored of these meetings," Blaise muttered from his spot by the bookshelf.

"I don’t think ‘bored’ is in his vocabulary," Hermione said, biting her lip.

At that moment, Snape entered the room, dressed in his usual dark robes, his face as unreadable as ever. But those who knew him well—Harry, Draco, Sirius, Lupin—could see the tension in the slight tightening of his jaw.

Lucius stood up from his seat near the fire. "Are you certain about this?"

Snape gave him a sharp look. "I’ve been doing this for years, Lucius."

"Doesn’t mean it gets any less dangerous," Narcissa murmured, adjusting the cuffs of her elegant robes.

Snape exhaled through his nose and turned toward Harry. "Stay out of trouble while I’m gone," he instructed. "And for the love of Merlin, do not try to sneak into the meeting to spy."

Harry scowled. "I wasn’t going to—"

"You were thinking about it," Snape interrupted flatly.

Sirius chuckled. "You do have a habit of throwing yourself into deadly situations, Harry."

"I really don’t need all of you ganging up on me," Harry grumbled.

"Yes, you do," Draco smirked, before his expression turned serious again. "Just... be careful, Professor."

Snape hesitated for the briefest moment before giving a curt nod. "I always am."

And with that, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the shadows.

The room was silent for a long moment.

Then, Sirius muttered, "I hate this."

"We all do," Remus said quietly.

Harry clenched his fists, staring at the spot Snape had just left.

Now, they waited.