SIRIUS & REGULUS (love triangle plot w/OC)
From the noble house of black.
✯ to fall from grace ✯
PHRASE
If someone falls from grace, they suddenly stop being successful or popular.
(in Christian belief) descend from a state of divine favour into si...
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12 GRIMMAULD PLACE, Regulus' POV ♫ The Sound Of Myself - Disasterpeace ♫ ——— I apparated home.
Just outside the house, in the gardened square across the street. Twinkling lights wrapped around the metal spiked fence. A view of Christmas trees in peoples front rooms, in variations of colours. Before turning to face ours. I knew the muggles couldn't see our house on the street, so there was no one for Mother to dress the house up for, but I still felt disappointed to see not a single light on. Not a wreath on the door. Not a sign of Christmas to be seen.
I crossed the street and pulled out my wand, our wands enchanted to act like keys instead of having a physical form.
The door clicked at the same time my wrist quietly cracked at the movement. I stretched it out as I pushed open the black front door.
The smell of wood polish was the strongest sense, stepping into the hallway and closing the door behind me. Every light was off and the house was deadly silent in its stillness. But the smell of wood polish let me know someone had recently been home, scrubbing for my arrival.
"Kreacher?" I said, gently, as I put down my trunk.
No response.
"Hello?" I said a little louder.
And then suddenly I heard the sound of pattering footsteps from the kitchen.
"Ah, Master Regulus, Sir." I heard Kreacher's voice before I saw him. Just as he turned the corner of the staircase into plain sight. "Welcome home, Master Regulus, sir."
I smiled gentlemanly.
"How many times do I have to tell you, Kreacher?" I laughed lightly. "If you won't call me Regulus, Master is just enough. You don't have to call me sir, afterwards."
I had tried to allow Kreacher the privilege of being on a first name basis, without the title. Many times. Many times he has rejected my offer, prioritising my Mother and Father's request to always address us by them.
"Yes, Master Regulus." Kreacher bowed and took my coat.
As Kreacher went off to hang it, letting it fall perfectly in the coat cupboard, I realised how thin he was beginning to look.
House elves, elves in general, were very rarely beings that kept on weight. I don't think I've ever seen an elf whose bones weren't somewhat visible. It was in their structure, their DNA. Just as much as they were all small. Most were awfully thin.
Kreacher was beginning to have a painfully thin appearance, however. If it wasn't for his steely gaze and robust resilience, it looked as if a strong wind could snap him in two.
Kreacher has been old, ever since I was born. With elves living longer than Wizards, most met their freedom in retirement. When their Masters had passed. With certain elves, however, they could never be free.
