Chapter 2
People scattered everywhere. Some ran and some are fighting the death eaters that suddenly came at the scene. Hermione immediately put the time turner back at her small duffle bag before grabbing Harry by the wrist. “Ron!” she shouted. “Come on,” she told Harry before dragging him while looking for Ron.
“Ron!” Harry shouted, also looking for him.
Harry and Hermione both drew their wands out before yelling Ron’s name again. “𝑃𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑔𝑜!” Hermione yelled.
“Hermione?! Harry?!” They saw Ron running towards them. The moment Ron came to them, Hermione held both of their hands and apparated somewhere.
“Where are we?” Ron asked as he looked around the busy street. It looks a lot like muggle street. They are surrounded dby a lot of people, all looking at them with their dashing outfits.
“Tottenham Court Road,” Hermione answered and fastened their pace. “Go, walk faster. We just need to find somewhere you can change.”
Harry did as she asked. They half walked, half ran up the wide dark street thronged with late-night revelers and lined with closed shops, stars twinkling above them. A double-decker bus rumbled by and a group of merry pub-goers ogled them as they passed; Harry and Ron were still wearing dress robes
“Hermione, we haven’t got anything to change into,” Ron said as a young woman burst in raucous giggles at the sight of him.
“Why didn’t I made sure I have the invisibility cloak with me?” Harry groaned in annoyance upon his realization. “All year, I’ve had it with me, and now—”
“Don’t pret, I have it.” Harry stopped when Hermione said that. “I’ve told you. I already prepared everything we needed at The Burrow. I’ve got everything we need now.” She tossed her hand inside her tiny duffle bag and held out pair of clothes to Ron and Harry for them to change into.
“Wait, this is all in that bag?” Ron asked, looking at her small duffle bag that can be brought by one hand. At first look, it looks like it can only fit at least a small parchment of paper.
“Undetectable extension charm,” she shrugged. “Tricky, but I’ve got everything we need here. I’ve managed to put them here.” She shaked her little bag and it formed sounds of a lot of things inside it. “Damn it, that would be the books, and I stocked them all by subject. Anyways, Harry, you’d better take the invisibility cloak,” she said as she hand him the cloak.
—
They entered Grimmauld Place.
“It looks like someone has been here.” Hermione looked around and saw the changes since the last time she saw this.
“Maybe it’s from the last Order meeting?” Ron offered as he also looked around. Some of the things looks disheveled, as if there’s someone who go through them mindlessly. “Where’s the wards they got for Snape?”
“Maybe it would only activate once Snape’s break in?” Harry shrugged.
“𝑆𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑢𝑠 𝑆𝑛𝑎𝑝𝑒.”
The three of them jumped in shock a sthey heard Mad-eye Moody’s faint voice from the air. “𝑆𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑢𝑠 𝑆𝑛𝑎𝑝𝑒.”
“No!” Harry yelled. “We are not him! We are not Snape! We do not kill you!”
On the word kill, the figure exploded in a cloud of dust. Coughing, his eyes watering, Harry looked around and saw Hermione held her hands to protect her head, and Ron, shaking from head to toe. “I-it’s g-gone, it’s gone.”
Dust swirled around Harry like a mist, at the same time opting the curtain covering the painting of Sirius’ good as dead mother.
“𝑀𝑢𝑑𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑𝑠, 𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑡ℎ, 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑑𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑛𝑜𝑟, 𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠—”
“SHUT UP!” Harry bellowed and pointed his hand at her. Red sparks came from the end of Harry’s wand, directly shooting into the curtain to cover her—silencing her.
𝐻𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑔𝑜𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑒𝑛𝑐ℎ 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑔𝑜𝑑𝑓𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑑𝑎𝑦.
—
“Harry?” Hermione suddenly got off from her sleeping position upon waking up. She looked around and saw Ron, sleeping soundly onnone of the couches, but no sight of Harry.
She got up and looked around. She remembered Harry slept with them at the same space and seeing him nowhere right now, she must look for him. She started stepping upstairs and called him. “Harry? Harry! Harry!”
“I’m here!” She heard Harry from quite a distance. She did not waste any more second and ran towards his direction. “Oh, hey,” he greeted when he saw her and stepped towards her. “Look at what I found.” He showed her a parchment, containing his mom’s letter to Sirius.
“Sirius gave me a broom on my first birthday,” Harry said, smiling, which Hermione can’t help but stare at. “Sirius gave me my first broom,” he again whispered, thoroughly mesmerized by what he had found out. Hermione, on the other hand, can’t contain the smile urging out of her lips the moment he started smiling. 𝐻𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑦.
“You all were so happy,” Hermione whispered, finally looking and reading bits of the letter before Harry showed her s photograph of his dad, mom, with Remus, Sirius, and unfortunately, Peter Pettigrew.
“I wanted to meet them,” Harry uttered. “Like this. I want to see them happy.” His smile grew wider and flawless the moment his mind travelled to thinking about how did his parents and their friends lived and loved each other, imagining as if he was there— to witness all of it, first hand.
“Oh, Harry,” Hermione sighed. She didn’t prevented her right hand from cupping one of his cheeks to make him look at her. “I’m sure they would be delighted to see you, and to get to know you. They’ll be delighted as we would be if it truly happens.”
—
Harry knew there was something wrong, and he will find the truth out of it. “Kreacher!” he yeller, then a creature, half of his size, pop out of nowhere. Kreacher, the foul house-elf he inherited from Sirius, still wearing the filthy rag they saw him wearing the first time, bowed to him.
“Master,” Kreacher greeted in his bullfrog-like voice. “back in my mistress’ house, together with the blood-traitor Weasley and the Mudblood—”
“I forbid you to call anyone a ‘blood-traitor’ or a ‘mudblood’ again.” growled Harry in annoyance of the insults of the house elf towards his friends. “Look, there is something I need to ask you, and I order you to be honest. Understand?”
“Yes, master.” Kreacher bowed again, so low but Harry can still see him muttering things he cannot hear due to his order on not hearing any insults.
“Two years ago,” said Harry, his heart now hammering against his ribs, “there was a big gold locket in the drawing room upstairs. We threw it out. Did you steal it back?”
There was a moment’s silence, during which Kreacher straightened up to look Harry full in the face. Then he said, “Yes.”
“Where is it now?” asked Harry jubilantly as Ron and Hermione looked gleeful.
Kreacher closed his eyes as though he could not bear to see their reactions to his next word. “Gone.”
“Gone?” echoed Harry, elation flooding out of him. “What do you mean, it’s gone?” The elf shivered. He swayed.
“Kreacher,” said Harry fiercely, “I order you —”
“Mundungus Fletcher,” the elf said. “Kreacher saw the thief Mundungus Fletcher stole Kreacher’s treasures: Miss Bella and Miss Cissa’s pictures, my mistress’ gloves, the Order of the Merlin, First Class, the family goblet with the family crest, and, and…
Kreacher’s chest is heaving up and down, like he’s preventing himself from exploding, then released a panicked scream.
“Master Regulus’ locker! Kreacher saw the thief Mundungus Fletcher stole Master Regulus’ locker! I failed my Master! I failed Master Regulus’ doings!”
Harry reacted immediately: He lunged himself at Kreacher down the floor, flattening him. Hermione’s scream mingled with Kreacher, filled with horror as the old elf wailed loudly on the floor. “Harry, make him stop!”
“Kreacher!” Harry yelled. “Stop and look at me!” Suddenly, the old house elf stopped wailing and looked at Harry. “You called the locket as Master Regulus’ locket. Why is that? Where did he got that locket? Kreacher, stand up and tell me what does that locket have to do with Regulus and what does he want with it?!”
Kreacher spent his time retelling everything that had happened, halfway crying. From when Sirius flee from home, to when Voldemort demanded of Kreacher’s assistance, when he drank the potion from where Voldemort hid the locket, and when Regulus stole the real locket and replaced it with a replica.
Kreacher’s sobs came in great rasps now; Harry had to concentrate hard to understand him.
“And he ordered — Kreacher to leave — without him. And he told Kreacher — to go home — and never to tell my Mistress — what he had done — but to destroy — the first locket. And he drank — all the potion — and Kreacher swapped the lockets — and watched . . . as Master Regulus . . . was dragged beneath the water . . . and . . .”
“Oh, Kreacher!” wailed Hermione, who was crying. She can’t imagine the terrors that the poor elf had gone through in order to satisfy the Dark Lord’s inhumane deeds, much to his master’s death. She dropped to her knees in an attempt to hug Kreacher who immediately pushed her away.
“The Mudblood touched Kreacher, he would not allow it. What would his mistress say?”
“I told you not to call her ‘Mudblood’!” yelled Harry who was about launched himself to the poor elf again when Hermione prevented him. “He called you a Mudblood!”
“I know, but he’s gone too much! Did you not heard what he went through?!” Hermione looked back at Kreacher who is now on his feet, his dirty mucus spilling from his nose.
Harry, now calm, asked again Kreacher about the locket. “So, you brought the locket home and destroyed it?”
Kreacher sobbed. “Nothing Kreacher ever do did any mark on the locket. Kreacher did everything he could and he knew, but Kreacher cannot destroy it. Kreacher knew the way to destroy the it was to get inside it but the locket won’t open even with too many powerful spells. Kreacher could not destroy the locket! Kreacher could not follow his Master Regulus’ order and failed him! Bad Kreacher!” Once again, Kreacher started wailing and started hitting his own head on the floor.
Once Kreacher calmed down, Harry talked to him again. “Kreacher, I want you, to please, find Mundungus Fletcher, and bring him here in Grimmauld Place. We need the locket that he stole. Can you do that?” Kreacher nodded and got on his feet. Harry then opened Hagrid’s bag and gave him the fake locket. “Here, have it. I want you to have it as a token of our appreciation, and also, it belonged to Regulus, and I know that he wants you to have it.”
Hermione blinked upon hearing Harry’s words. “Really? You’re giving him the locket? As in you’re really giving him the locket?” Her smile grew wider as Harry’s words sinked into her further. When Harry nodded, Hermione can’t help herself but to hug Harry in awe, for giving the poor elf something from his former owner that he can own.
Harry, on the other hand, was stunned as he felt Hermione’s warm embrace on him. He blinked for a few times before lifting both his arms up to pat her back and both the corners of his lips lifted upwards for a bit. He stared into those brown eyes when Hermione pulled back from their embrace. His warm smile instantly eased his worries for a while until they heard Kreacher Dissaparated with a 𝑝𝑜𝑝!
𝐻𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑎𝑟 𝑎𝑙𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦.
—
Kreacher did not came back for a few days, they had an argument with Remus who is about to be a father, they could not get out of the house. They wandered about the house on their own, until Hermione spotted Harry in the kitchen.
“Are you hungry?” Hermione asked while walking towards him. “Kreacher still hasn’t come back.”
“No,” Harry shook his head. He went out of the kitchen to sit on one of the couches on the living room while Hermione followed him.
“You should not have said that to Remus.” Hermione sat beside him and talked quietly. “He’s just scared, you know. He’s scared of himself, and what would happen to the kid, though I know his child’s gonna be fine.”
“I know I shouldn’t, but that got him to go back to his family. Right?” Harry chuckled before shaking his head. “I don’t want him to leave his family— especially his child, just to go with us. I don’t want him to abandon his child, Hermione. I know what it feels like to be abandoned.”
Heaving a heavy sigh, Hermione slid her arm into Harry’s and rested her head into his shoulder. “I know you mean well, Harry, I know.”
Silence enveloped them, but fortunately, they did not need words to feel each other. They are already contented sitting next to each other, after a heated argument with their former professor and a friend, sighing and pushing themselves onto each other more. “Let’s rest for tonight,” said Harry before putting a chaste kiss on Hermione’s head.
“Good night, Harry.”
“Good night, Hermione.”
They did not leave the sofa. They slept there, side to side, heads resting onto each other’s head and holding each other’s hand.