Daddy's Little Girl [FW - Book Two]

The Noble House of Black

"Don't you dare call her that!" I say fiercely. The elf turns his head to look at me, and suddenly drops to the ground.

"Kreacher is sorry, Mistress Black. Kreacher will not disappoint you again." He bows several times, then gets up and bangs his head against the wall.

"What?" I ask, taken aback. I take step forward. "Stop that."

The elf stops hitting his head and slumps to the floor, bowing again. I shake my head in confusion, and he stops bowing as well.

"What did you mean? I'm not a Black, I'm a Riddle-I mean... I'm a Redwood." I manage to stutter. Now its Kreacher's turn to be confused. He squints at me. I'm about to open my mouth to ask again, but Fred is suddenly at my side.

"Let's go, Nessa." He advises, taking my hand. "You'll never get a straight answer out of him."

I nod slowly, still staring at the elf's scrunched up face, but silently decide to find the elf later and question him.

Ahead of us, George pulls McKenna aside to make sure she's okay, which of course she is, because she's not easily offended. He wraps his arm around her waist, and kisses her cheek. I smile at that, and lean against Fred's shoulder, my encounter with the elf almost forgotten, as Fred leads me down the hall and into the small room that they have apparently chosen.

It doesn't take long to clean once we actually get started, as all of us, except Hermione, are of age and can therefore use magic. After about a half an hour, we're finished, and our small group begins to split up and head down to the level below where our temporary rooms are, but I stay behind.

Fred, who was previously talking about launching dung bombs at the kitchen door during tonight's meeting with George, lags behind as well and walks over to me.

"You're mum would kill you if you threw dungbombs during the meeting." I smile slightly as he wraps his arm around my waist.

"Well someone's got to keep the order on their toes." Fred laughs briefly, then his expression softens. "You okay, Ness?"

"Yeah..." I hesitate. Fred nods, telling me to continue. "I just keep thinking about what that elf said. I hate that my parents are who they are, but at the same time, I want to know where I come from. It doesn't make sense, I know..."

"I get it." Fred nods simply. "But you're not going to get that out of him."

I nod hesitantly.

"Maybe you can ask Dumbledore when we get back to Hogwarts." Fred suggests. "But for now, don't think about it. Lets go back downstairs."

"You go ahead, I'm going to find a room to do tomorrow so we don't have to wander around and risk running in to him again." I say, attempting to be convincing.

Fred squints at me for a moment, then nods, his usual lopsided grin replacing his previous concern. "Alright, but then come downstairs. We've got important dung bomb business to discuss." He kisses me on the cheek and releases my waist, heading downstairs.

I head down the hall in the top floor in the house, checking each room for the hunched house elf, knowing that I'll have to search quickly, because Fred will be expecting me back on the level below soon.

Before I can find the creature though, I come across a room with a large tapestry covering one entire wall that catches my eye. I enter the room and examine the tapestry, which seems to be a large representation of the Black family tree.

I'm about to leave the room and continue my search for the twisted elf, when I suddenly catch sight of my mother's name on the tapestry, and turn my attention back to it.