FALLEN FROM GRACE ⍋ Regulus & Sirius Black

- Chapter 50 -

Kreacher lives to serve the noble house of black, and probably will until the day he dies. Our lineage spanning and challenging generations of house elves. If I couldn't find a way to offer Kreacher his retirement, I believe he'll always be in this house serving us until his very last breath.

I believed Kreacher had paid his debts. He had proven his loyalty to wizard-kind, specifically our family, more times than I could recollect.

Though I'd never admit the weakness so confidently, I had a fondness of him and a consideration for many house elves and their well-being.

"It's awfully quiet in here, Kreacher?" I asked. Though wasn't seeking a response.

I wasn't surprised to be met with the sound of white noise. Being greeted at the station or at my arrival home, wasn't part of my families customs. They had more important commitments.

My Father, in some office somewhere or in a Manor House colluding with our kind over a glass of whiskey.

My Mother, surviving another day.

"Lady Black is upstairs, Master Regulus." He hesitated, eyes darting up the staircase. He lowered his voice.
"I believe she has forgotten of your arrival, sir."

I nodded. Pushing away the feeling it momentarily gave me.

"How has she been?" I asked.

Kreacher was always careful with his words. But not always careful with his eyes, if you paid enough attention. A flicker of sorrow and exhaustion could be seen appearing in them as he thought.

"Not good, Master Regulus." Kreacher danced around the details.
"Kreacher has been punished many times for looking after her, as you wished of me, sir."

I felt a dread beginning to settle within me, a looming sense of darkness upstairs, despite the possible sunset that was seemingly entering the windows and streaming down the stairs.

Instead the warmth, the sudden sunlight finally adding some brightness to the house, felt like fire.

I let out a hum.

"Very well."

I nodded, collecting myself in preparation.

"I've got it from here, Kreacher. You can get back to your duties uninterrupted."

Kreacher bowed once again and returned to the kitchen. Where I hoped, sneakily, he would be taste testing the food he was beginning to make for us.

The first step, felt like the hardest. My breath hitching with the pressure of my foot against the wood. The creaking under my weight. The unknown of what was waiting for me above causing my mind to quickly attempt to consider what was 'not good' this time.

'Not good' meant many things, for Mother.

It could mean something as simple as she hasn't been to sleep properly for a few weeks or several days, wandering the house as if a ghost.

It could also mean something to be cautious of. A mania scratching behind her eyes and a destructive trail often left behind her; a map of her physical grief leaving clues around the house to what she was missing. It often led to Sirius' bedroom.

Something in me felt as if it was the latter and I wasn't exactly sure how capable I was at holding that space for her, right now.

To sit and stare into his pristinely kept room, somewhere she won't even let Kreacher tidy. She goes in there herself, polishing the things he left behind. The medals and trophies we were forced to win and compete for in childhood. Wizards chess, flying competitions, ballroom and piano classes, fencing at one point. Sirius had a collection of reminders signalling both his talent and his inability to stay consistent or loyal to a hobby.