"For what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Moony?" Sirius purred, the words dripping with honeyed malice, his gaze fixed on the angelic figure across the room.
Remus maintained a serene countenance, though his wings twitched ever so slightly beneath the flowing fabric of his elegant dress, with the delicate material cascading down to the floor in gentle, ethereal folds. "I come not for the mingling of our flesh, Sirius," he replied, his voice a soothing melody.
"Kreacher is dying."
Sirius chuckled softly, a sound like distant thunder rolling across the heavens. "Who?" he mused, swirling the tea in his cup with a lazy flick of his wrist. "My dear Remus, of whom are you speaking?"
Remus met his gaze unwaveringly, the faintest hint of sadness lingering in his eyes. "Kreacher," he said, his voice gentle yet resolute, "the house elf who serves the Black family on earth."
The Devil's grin widened, a glint of curiosity sparkling in his eyes. "Ah, the loyal servant," he remarked, leaning forward slightly. "What of him?"
"He is fading, Sirius," Remus replied, his tone carrying a weight of sorrow. "His time on earth draws to a close, and I fear he seeks solace in the darkness beyond."
Sirius's expression remained indifferent, his features unmoved by Remus's plea. "And what would you have me do, Remus?" he asked, his voice devoid of empathy, each word dripping with apathy.
"Nothing, I want you to stay as far away from Kreacher so as not to tempt him into your dark grasp," Remus said firmly, his voice carrying a note of warning.
Sirius's smile faded, replaced by a flicker of annoyance that danced in the depths of his silver eyes. "You wound me, Remus," he replied, his tone mocking. "Do you truly believe I would lead the poor elf astray?"
But Remus remained resolute, his gaze unwavering. "Your influence is like a shadow, Sirius," he said. "It seeps into the cracks of even the purest souls, tempting them with promises of glory."
Sirius leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "And yet here you are, seeking understanding from the very darkness you fear," he remarked, a hint of bitterness tainting his words.
Remus sighed softly, the weight of their conversation pressing upon him like a burden. "I do not fear you," he said, his tone steady. "Understanding does not equate to acceptance." His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of truth. Remus met Sirius's gaze, his eyes reflecting a mixture of resolve and compassion, a testament to the complexities of their relationship. "For in understanding," he continued, his voice firm, "lies the possibility of redemption, for Kreacher”
"Hell no, Kreacher is going to hell," Sirius said, his grin reaching its full devilish length.
Remus's expression remained unchanged. "And who are we to decide his fate?" he challenged softly, his words carrying a weight of moral responsibility.
Sirius's laughter filled the room, a sound as sharp as the crack of a whip. "We are the architects of our own destinies, Remus," he replied, his tone dripping with arrogance. "And Kreacher's destiny is sealed in the depths of his own actions."
But Remus shook his head, his expression tinged with sadness. "No one is beyond redemption," he said, his voice a whisper in the darkness. "Not even a house elf bound by the chains of servitude." "So I will ensure with every fiber of my angelic being that Kreacher reaches the gates of heaven, rather than wherever you end up when you're not tempting me with your devilishly good looks," Remus declared, his voice firm.
Sirius's smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Ah, but my dear Remus, you underestimate the allure of the forbidden," he replied, his tone teasing. "Perhaps even in heaven, Kreacher will find himself drawn to the shadows."
Remus shook his head, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Then I'll be there to guide him back into the light," he retorted, his gaze unwavering. "For redemption knows no bounds, even for the most unlikely of souls."
As they gazed upon Kreacher, who bustled about the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, each harbored their own intentions. Sirius, with a smug grin, saw an opportunity to tip the scales in favor of Hell.
Sirius, with an air of devilish nonchalance, reclined upon the kitchen counter in Grimmauld Place, his form stretched out casually. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he held a glimmering locket, its delicate craftsmanship catching the dim light of the outside.
"Fancy this locket?" he purred, his tone laden with a blend of temptation and amusement, as he dangled the precious item before the wide-eyed house elf, whose gaze remained fixed on the glittering object.
“You have the locket, where did you get it from?” Kreacher inquired.
Kreacher's voice broke the silence, drawing Sirius's attention away from his playful display with the locket. With a casual flick of his wrist, he tossed the trinket lightly into the air before responding.
"Oh, this old thing?" Sirius replied, his tone laced with a hint of mystery. "Let's just say it found its way to me through.... Best not to delve in the details of how it came into my possession."
"You should just do one little thing for me," Sirius said, his smile dripping with mocking charm, "and then the locket is all yours, Kreacher."
As Kreacher's mind raced with thoughts, a radiant light began to fill the room. Remus descended gracefully through the ceiling, his angelic form shining brilliantly and casting a warm, soothing glow throughout the kitchen. His presence immediately brought a sense of calm to the room.
"Kreacher, stop that," Remus said. "You should not be tempted by the Devil. He wants you to do unspeakable things to Severus Snape"
Kreacher looked up at Remus, his eyes wide with both awe and relief. "But... the locket," he murmured, his voice trembling. " Sirius promised it to me if I... if I..."
Remus floated down to stand before Kreacher, his eyes filled with compassion and understanding. "Kreacher, true power does not come from causing harm to others," he explained softly. "The path Sirius wants you to take will only lead to darkness and misery. You are better than this."
Sirius's expression darkened as he spat out the name, his disdain palpable. "Snivellus deserves every bit of teasing he gets," he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "He's only a half-blood, an insult to the very essence of magical nobility. Your house, Kreacher, is pure, untainted by the filth that others bring. The House of Black has always stood for purity and strength, and it must remain that way."
He leaned in closer, his eyes glinting with a calculated charm. "You know what Snivellus represents, don't you? A blemish on our world, a constant reminder of what happens when we allow impurity to mingle with true wizarding blood. By pulling a prank on him, you're not just serving yourself; you're serving the noble legacy of the House of Black."
Sirius dangled the locket in front of Kreacher, its glimmer tempting and almost hypnotic. "Think about it, Kreacher. One small act, a simple prank on Snivellus, and this locket is yours. It's not just a reward—it's a symbol of your loyalty, your dedication to keeping the House of Black untainted and revered.
Kreacher's eyes fixated on the locket, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and anticipation. The weight of Sirius's words pressed down on him, filling him with a dark resolve. The choice seemed clear, and the promise of honor and recognition was too intoxicating to resist. His eyes darted between the devil and the glowing presence of the angel. The house elf's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions and desires.
"Do this, and you'll be remembered as a protector of the Black family's heritage. Refuse, and you're turning your back on everything your masters have stood for," Sirius said, his voice a dangerous whisper.
The house elf's mind raced, the conflicting voices of duty, tradition, and morality warring within him. He wanted to serve, to be loyal, to be remembered. But the path Sirius offered was dark and tainted with violence.
Sirius leaned in closer, his voice a seductive whisper. "What will it be, Kreacher? Eternal honor or forgotten obscurity? Choose wisely."
Kreacher's hands trembled, his heart torn between the promises of the devil and the silent, steadfast presence of Remus. He looked up, his eyes meeting the angel's gaze, seeking guidance.
Remus, understanding the turmoil within Kreacher, stepped forward. His presence was soothing, his voice a gentle counterpoint to Sirius's seductive whispers. "Kreacher," he said softly, "true honor is not found in causing harm or succumbing to darkness. It is found in acts of kindness, in the courage to do what is right, even when it is difficult."
"Tradition," Kreacher muttered to himself, the word echoing in his mind like a mantra.
The seeds of contempt sown by Sirius had taken root, twisting Kreacher's thoughts. He couldn't shake the images the devil had painted—of the noble House of Black, pure and untainted, and of himself, forever enshrined in honor.
With grim determination, Kreacher straightened up, his eyes narrowing with newfound resolve. Severus Snape was a stain on the wizarding world, a blemish Kreacher felt compelled to erase. His heart hardened, and he felt a dark thrill at the thought of pranking Snivellus.
Approaching the Snape family home under the cover of night, Kreacher's hands trembled with anticipation as he withdrew handfuls of dungbombs from his pockets. One by one, he hurled them through an open window, the putrid stench quickly filling the air. Chaos erupted inside as Snivelus staggered out of his home, coughing and waving away the noxious fumes. "What in Merlin's name..." he spluttered, his eyes watering from the stench. "Who's responsible for this? Show yourself!"
A dark satisfaction welled up within Kreacher, his loyalty to the House of Black seemingly affirmed.
As Kreacher returned to the familiar confines of Grimmauld Place, a sense of anticipation tugged at his heart. He knew that his encounter with the devil had irrevocably altered his fate. As he approached the entrance, he spotted Sirius waiting outside, his figure silhouetted against the dimly lit street. Kreacher's steps faltered for a moment, but then, with a resolute nod to himself, he approached Sirius, determined to see this through to the end.
Sirius turned to greet him, a sly grin playing on his lips as he held out the gleaming locket. "Ah, Kreacher," he said, his voice smooth like velvet yet tinged with an underlying darkness. "I trust our little arrangement went as planned?" Kreacher hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering with a mixture of apprehension and longing. But then, with a steely resolve, he reached out and accepted the locket from Sirius's outstretched hand.
As he turned to leave, a nagging doubt gnawed at his conscience. What had he sacrificed for this trinket? And was it worth the price he had paid? But for now, those questions remained unanswered as Kreacher disappeared into the shadows of Grimmauld Place, the weight of the locket heavy in his pocket.
"What have you done?" came the angelic voice of Remus, echoing through the depths of the hell that Sirius reigned over. "You've tainted him, marked him. I told you to stay away from him," Remus said, his tone laced with sorrow and frustration.
Sirius chuckled darkly, his gaze locking onto Remus with a predatory gleam. "Oh, but dear Remus, when have I ever listened to you or done as you pleased?" he retorted, studying Remus's form with a calculating eye. "Kreacher will be an excellent follower to have in hell."
"And perhaps you'd like to join us," Sirius continued, his voice dripping with malice. "Let me cut off your wings and let us live out the sins already forming in your mind.”
"Stay with me, Moony," Sirius murmured, his voice low and tinged with a hint of longing, locking eyes with Remus.
Remus huffed in defiance, his eyes boring into the devil's with unwavering resolve. He drew close but kept a safe distance, refusing to be swayed by Sirius's tempting offers.
"That's where you'll never be right, Sirius," he replied, his voice resolute. "For I will never succumb to your level. You are tempting, yes, but who wants to settle down with someone like you? Definitely not me. And Kreacher will do what's right when his time comes to an end."
"Arhhh, Moony, and that's where you're wrong," Sirius countered, his voice tinged with frustration. "You love me, and you can't ever stop loving me.” “Even though we're going through this ordeal every one in a while, you never cease to come and see me."
"And that's the one sin that completes me," Remus sighed softly, his gaze meeting Sirius's with sadness. "No one is all good or bad" Remus stated, his voice gentle. "You may see yourself as all bad, but there's goodness in you, too. You just have to let it shine through."
As Kreacher lay sleeping in his cramped den behind the dingy door of Grimmauld Place's kitchen, a soft voice stirred him from his slumber. "Kreacher, are you awake? I'm sorry to interrupt your sleep," came the gentle voice of the angel.
Kreacher blinked, his eyes adjusting to the dim light as he regarded the angel with a questioning gaze. "I've made my choice, now let me sleep," he stated firmly.
"But don't you want your house to remain noble?" Remus pressed gently. "If you allow the devil to taint your noble house, it may overshadow the respect that the House of Black have.”
Kreacher listened intently, his curiosity piqued. "Kreacher is listening," he replied.
“So, Kreacher, what do you say we do some good deeds to tip the scales in favor of your master's name and family staying noble?" Remus said.
Remus then whisked them away with a snap of his fingers, transporting them to the homes of Dobby and Winky, two young house-elves in need of guidance. However, neither Dobby nor Winky could see them.
Remus began to explain the situations of the two young elves. "This is Dobby. He's been with the Malfoy family for a couple of years now and has hit a few rough patches," he said, before moving them to the Crouch estate. "And this is Winky. She's been hitting the butterbeer barrel every two minutes and is very depressed."
"But why?" Kreacher asked, his voice tinged with confusion.
Remus knelt down to meet Kreacher’s gaze, his eyes filled with understanding. "If I were to speak in your master's tongue, I would say, 'Toujours Pur,'" he began. "Always pure. But let me explain further. The other pureblood houses hold high expectations, not just for themselves, but for everyone connected to them. If the house elves aren't properly prepared, it reflects poorly on their masters and could lead to discord and ruin for all."
Kreacher's eyes widened slightly as he absorbed Remus's words, the weight of the angel's message sinking in. "So, Kreacher's actions matter... for everyone?"
Remus nodded. "Indeed, Kreacher. Your actions can uphold the honor and nobility of the House of Black. By doing good deeds and guiding others, you help maintain the purity and respect that your house values so deeply."
Eagerly, Kreacher inquired, "So what would you like Kreacher to do?"
"I want you to simply listen to them," Remus responded gently. "When the sun rises in the morning, go to them and just be there. I believe it's their loneliness that's crushing their spirits. By being there and simply listening, you will inevitably give them hope for what they can achieve. Kreacher, you can be the guiding light that turns Dobby and Winky's faith around for the better."
Kreacher's eyes widened with a mix of trepidation and determination. "But what if they don't listen to Kreacher?" he asked.
Remus smiled warmly, placing a reassuring hand on the elf's shoulder. "It's not about whether they listen, Kreacher. It's about you being there, offering your support and understanding. Sometimes, all it takes to change a life is knowing someone cares."
Kreacher nodded slowly, absorbing Remus's words. "Kreacher will try," he said, his voice filled with newfound resolve.
The angel's light shimmered brightly as he followed Kreacher to the front door of Grimmauld Place . "Remember, you have the power to bring light to their darkness. Show them kindness, and they will find their own strength."
The next morning, Kreacher set out on his mission. His heart pounded with a bit of fear, but he was resolute in his mission.
He first visited Dobby, finding the young elf in a corner of the Malfoy manor, looking forlorn. Kreacher approached him cautiously, clearing his throat to announce his presence.
"Dobby," he said softly, "Kreacher is here to listen."
Dobby looked up, surprise and curiosity flickering in his large eyes. "Kreacher? What are you doing here?"
"Kreacher has come to be a friend," he replied, sitting down beside Dobby. "Sometimes, it helps to have someone to talk to."
Dobby hesitated, then began to speak, his voice trembling with emotion. "Dobby... Dobby feels so alone sometimes. The Malfoys... they are not kind."
Kreacher listened intently, offering a comforting presence as Dobby poured out his heart. They talked for hours, and as the sun climbed higher, a sense of relief and hope began to fill the room.
After leaving Dobby, Kreacher made his way to Winky at the Crouch estate. He found her sitting by herself, a half-empty butterbeer bottle in her hand. She looked up as he approached, her eyes red and puffy.
"Winky," Kreacher said gently, "Kreacher is here to listen."
Winky sniffled, wiping her eyes. "Why would Kreacher want to listen to Winky? Winky is just a mess."
"Everyone deserves to be heard," he said softly, sitting down next to her. "Tell Kreacher what's troubling you."
Winky hesitated, then began to speak, her voice cracking with pain. She spoke of her lost pride, her struggles with addiction, and her deep sense of failure.
Kreacher listened patiently, offering words of comfort and encouragement. As the day wore on, Winky's despair seemed to lift, replaced by a glimmer of hope.
By the time the sun set, Kreacher had fulfilled his mission. He returned to Grimmauld Place, exhausted but filled with a sense of purpose. He had seen the power of kindness and compassion, and he knew that he had made a difference.
As he settled back into his den, he felt a warmth in his heart that he hadn't known in years. The angel Remus had shown him a way, and Kreacher knew that he COULD continue to follow that path, bringing light to the darkness wherever he could.
Remus appeared once more, his radiant presence filling the room. "You did well, Kreacher," he said, his voice filled with pride. "You have shown great courage and compassion."
"My moon," Sirius taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. "You think you can claim Kreacher for your so-called serene heaven?" a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Do you honestly believe your sanctimonious promises can outweigh the allure of me?"
Remus met Sirius's gaze, unflinching. "It's not about outweighing anything, Sirius. It's about giving Kreacher a chance—a real chance. One where he can find redemption and peace, rather than endless darkness."
Sirius chuckled, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Redemption and peace? How dull. Kreacher craves respect, power, and recognition. I can offer him all that and more.”
In an instant, Sirius and Remus found themselves in the dimly lit room of the kitchen in grimmauld place with Kreacher. Sirius continued, his voice dripping with temptation, "Imagine, Kreacher, your name revered, feared even, among all house elves. You'd be more than just a servant—you'd be a legend."
Kreacher, standing at the edge of the room, felt a shiver run down his spine at Sirius's words. The devil's promise was intoxicating, a vision of grandeur he had never dared to dream of. But then he glanced at Remus, whose serene presence offered a different kind of promise—one of dignity, true honor, and inner peace.
"Kreacher," Remus said softly. Respect and honor come not from fear and power, but from the good we do and the lives we touch. Your loyalty can be a beacon of hope, not a tool of oppression."
Sirius sneered, his grin widening. "Hope? Loyalty? Those are chains, Kreacher, binding you to mediocrity. Break free, take what you deserve. Imagine the fear in the eyes of those who once looked down on you."
Sirius leaned in closer, his voice a seductive whisper. "Imagine, Kreacher, the power to command, to be more than just an elf, but a ruler among your kind. All you need to do is embrace the darkness."
Remus stepped forward, his eyes filled with compassion. "Or you can choose the light, Kreacher. Choose to be remembered for the good you've done, the lives you've uplifted. True nobility lies in your heart, not in the fear you can instill."
Kreacher's hands trembled, his eyes darting between the devil and the angel. The future stretched out before him, two paths, each promising honor, but in profoundly different ways. The promise of power was alluring, but the vision of true, heartfelt respect and peace was also alluring.
Remus stepped closer, his eyes filled with compassion. "Kreacher, you can be the light that guides others. You can be remembered for your goodness, for the positive change you bring. That is true nobility." Kreacher's hands steadied as he took a deep breath. His eyes met Remus's, then flicked back to Sirius.
Sirius’s eyes gleamed with mischief as he squared off against Remus. “You think you can save him, Moony? You’re just as chained to me as he is,” he taunted, his voice dripping with dark seduction.
Remus’s gaze remained steady, though a flicker of frustration crossed his serene features. “Kreacher deserves a chance at redemption, Sirius,” he said firmly. “He’s more than just a pawn in your twisted game.”
Sirius laughed, a low, mocking sound. “Redemption? How quaint. You always were the romantic, Remus.” He took a step closer, the air between them crackling. “But you forget, I know you better than anyone. I know the darkness you hide.”
Remus bristled but held his ground. “And I know the light you try so hard to hide, Sirius. You think you can claim Kreacher for hell, but I won’t let you.”
Sirius’s expression softened slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. “Ah, Moony, always the hero. But heroes fall, don’t they? Especially when they’re tempted.” He leaned in, his breath hot against Remus’s ear. “You’re tempted, aren’t you? By me, by the darkness.”
Remus’s resolve wavered for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure. “You can try to tempt me, Sirius, but I won’t give in. Kreacher deserves better, and so do you.”
Sirius’s eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and longing. “Better? There’s nothing better than being me, Remus. Nothing better than feeling the world bend to your will.”
“You’re wrong,” Remus said. “There’s love, there’s compassion, there’s the peace that comes from doing what’s right. You knew that once.”
Sirius’s grin faltered, and for a moment, a hint of vulnerability flickered in his eyes. “And look where it got me, Remus.”
Remus stepped closer, his hand reaching out to touch Sirius’s arm. “You don’t have to be alone, Sirius. You can choose the light, just as Kreacher can. It’s never too late.”
Sirius pulled away, his expression hardening once more. “Spare me the lecture, Moony. Kreacher is mine, and I won’t let you take him.”
“Kreacher deserves a chance at happiness,” Remus insisted, his voice rising with determination. “And I’ll fight for that, even if it means fighting you.”
The Devil and Angel stood face to face, the air thick with tension and a history that bound them together forever. Their words clashed like swords, each cutting deep into shared old and wounded memories.
“Kreacher!” Sirius finally called out, his voice laced with command. “I claim you for hell.”
“No!” Remus shouted, his voice filled with unwavering resolve. “Kreacher, I claim you for heaven.”
Their words echoed around Kreacher as he took his last breath, the weight of their battle pressing down on him. His world faded into a void, devoid of everything and nothing—a house elf alone in empty space. Until, his eyes opened. He found himself in his den, the familiar confines of Grimmauld Place surrounding him.Where the words of his masters stirred Kreacher from his slumber.
“Kreacher, why isn’t my breakfast ready?” came the demanding voice of Walburga Black.