FORTY-FIVE

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The following day Aurora sat besides her father in the dining room, quietly eating her cereal. Sirius smiled fondly as he looked at his daughter, she looked so much like his younger self; messy back hair flowing down her back, an old worn out Muggle band t-shirt that was tucked at front into her black skinny jeans, black Chelsea boots on her feet and her leather jacket placed on the back of the chair. 

"How are you feeling?" He gently asked, sipping his black coffee.

Aurora looked up from her bowl, "I'm better, dad, honestly," she told him with a reassuring smile, he smiled at her; for the first time since the end of her sixth year at Hogwarts she had finally looked well rested. 

He opened his mouth as he was about to say something but got interrupted by a loud screeching  noise coming from the room on the right. Sirius rolled his eyes before he rose from his chair, Aurora quickly followed his lead as the pair walked into the room that Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and the twins were clearing out of the Doxys that infested the place.

"Kreacher is cleaning," Kreacher said slowly, his large eyes staring right at George.

"A likely story," Sirius muttered sarcastically causing the rugged house elf to turn around and face the father and daughter, who both crossed their arms across their chests and stared at the elf.

Fred couldn't help but smile widely as he watched the Blacks coming into the room, Aurora was so much happier now that she was back with her dad. He could see how much Sirius meant to her and how similar the pair were. 

Kreacher flung himself into a ridiculously low bow at the feet of Sirius who rolled his eyes, "Stand up straight," he said impatiently, "Now, what are you up to?"

"Kreacher is cleaning," the house-elf repeated, "Kreacher lives to serve the Noble House of Black-"

"And it's getting blacker every day, it's filthy," Sirius said.

"Master always liked his little jokes," Kreacher commented, bowing his head down as he muttered under his breath, "Master was a nasty ungrateful swine who broke his mother's heart-"

"My mother didn't have a heart, Kreacher," Sirius snapped, "She kept herself alive out of pure spite."

Kreacher bowed again as he spoke, "Whatever Master says," he muttered furiously, "Master is no fir to wipe slime from his mother's boots, oh, my poor mistress, what would she say if she saw Kreacher serving him and his filthy blood-traitor of a daughter, how she hated him, what a disappointment he was-"

"I asked you what you were up to," Sirius bellowed coldly, "Every time you show up pretending to clean, you sneak something off to your room so we can't throw it out."

"Kreacher would never move anything from its proper place in Master's house," the house-elf muttered quickly, "Mistress would never forgive Kreacher if the tapestry was thrown out, seven centuries it's been in the family, Kreacher must save it, Kreacher will not let Master and the blood traitors destroy it-"

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