I spent the next few days cleaning up 12 Grimmauld Place.
With Kreacher gone in search of Mundungus Fletcher, Ron and Hermione busy only having eyes for each other, and Harry sorting through Sirius' old things trying to look for any photographs or letters that featured his parents, I was on my own in trying to make the once grand house habitable once again.
For a start, I got rid of the rotting planks of wood that had been nailed over some of the windows, in attempts to keep the light out and the dust in. It took me an entire morning to wrench out the twisted nails and allow sunlight in once again, but finally every room in the house felt the late summer warmth. After transfiguring the wood away, sending it to an abandoned field somewhere, I scoured the expansive library for household care books, and after having little success there, searched Kreacher's pit too. The house-elf slept in what was nothing more than a cupboard in the kitchen, with only a raggedy blanket and a potato sack pillow to make his nights a little more comfortable. It was there that I found a stack of books on household spells, and tried to think of where in that huge house I could start. However the answer was right before my eyes.
Deciding upon my first task, I obtained Harry's permission and then began to fashion one of the smaller, vacant bedrooms into a room for Kreacher. He deserved it after all - his many years of faithful servitude to the House of Black should at least warrant him a suitable place to sleep.
After finding a room, I began to clear out the years worth of useless clutter that had been packed into the unused guest room. Stacks of books (many of which were about the dark arts), paintings and photo albums, trophies, sculptures and trinkets. Anything that wasn't of high monetary or personal value was moved elsewhere - the more pleasant books to the library in the house, sculptures which didn't depict a pure-blood wizard standing above a group of frail-looking muggle-borns to the drawing room to be taken to shops on Diagon Alley.
Once it was clear, I stripped the dusty bed-sheets that looked as if they'd been there for years off the bed, using an enchantment I'd found in one of Kreacher's books to wash the sheets until they were pristine. I hung them over a line I'd set up in the scullery room and then set off with dusting the room whilst the sheets dried.
Ron watched me in disbelief as I made the room nice for the house-elf - even enchanting some runner beans into flowers to be nicely displayed in a vase on the chest of drawers. "Why are you doing all of this? Kreacher is horrible - you saw how he treated Hermione!"
I shrugged my shoulders as I plumped up a pillow. "Everybody deserves a second chance, Ron. And besides, what harm can it do to soften up Kreacher a little bit? It looks like we're going to be here for a while, and I for one don't want to live in a house where I have a house-elf plotting to jeopardise my every move."
That was enough to shut him up, with an exasperated sigh, Ron left me alone to finish making the room nice for Kreacher upon his return.
However Kreacher didn't return that night, nor the next, and soon it was a nearly a week since we'd sent him out to track down Mundungus. With each moment that passed that Kreacher didn't return, the tensions grew. What if he'd found a way to sneak to Bellatrix or Narcissa and tell them who was staying at 12 Grimmauld Place? Harry had left plenty of loopholes in his instructions - what if Kreacher had betrayed us?
By the time the sixth evening arrived, we were all close to the edge. After a dinner of beef and potatoes that we'd found in the store room, we all went up to the drawing room, Ron and Hermione taking a seat at the grand piano I'd spent the morning polishing and Harry flopping down on the chaise longue. I climbed into an armchair and lit the fire with a non-verbal spell, before pulling out a book of household spells and opening it to a dog-eared page, and beginning to read. Tomorrow, I was planning an assault on an infestation of Cornish pixies on the roof, and I wanted to know exactly how to get rid of them for good.
"You really want to make this place nice, don't you?" Harry said quietly, watching my concentration curiously. "Why?" he added.
I sighed and shut my book. "It gives me something to do."
"A distraction?" Harry asked. I nodded my head and his brow furrowed. "Distracting from the horcruxes?"
I ran a hand through my hair. "Not exactly, more from everything..."
Harry remained silent, waiting for me to elaborate. With a sigh, I continued. "I need distracting from the fact that my family are considered blood traitors and hated by the ministry and the dark lord, the fact that my ex-boyfriend - whom I gave every part of myself to and love more than anything on this earth - may or may not have killed my brother, I'm in the house my deceased father grew up in, and at the moment I'm waiting for the return of a house-elf who holds the next step between us and the dark lord, who is the cause of all these problems."
Harry stared at me, as if I had finally lost my mind. I tucked my knees up to my chest and let out an exasperated sigh. "I'm sorry, it's just with what happened to Charlie..."
I drifted off, because Harry suddenly wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into a comforting embrace. "I know it's hard Li, and I'm so sorry for everything you've been through." Then he released me, and whilst holding my shoulders, stared straight into my eyes. "But we will find all the horcruxes. Kreacher will return and then we'll have the next piece of the puzzle. You'll have your revenge Li, for Charlie, your father, Cedric and Draco."
I stared at him and smiled slowly, then broader as if I believed him. Harry grinned back, and then released me, allowing me to return to my book. A few minutes passed before he spoke again.
"You like it here, don't you?" Harry said suddenly, watching as I looked up from my book and frowned. "I suppose - it's nice to be in a place where I know exactly who I am and where I came from." I thought about the room just next door, where the walls were covered in generations of the Black family tree. I'd spent hours in that room, staring at my ancestors whom I'd never knew existed. To my amazement, I'd found myself on the family tree, stemming from my father's name with my brother beside me. It was as if the house had known about me all along, even if I didn't.
"Maybe, after this is all over, you could have it?"
I stopped smiling, my mouth opening like a fish in disbelief. Had Harry really just offered me Sirius' house?
"It means a lot more to you than it does to me, and I'll never live here myself," he elaborated.
I blinked a few times, to check if I was awake or dreaming. "But, you could sell it? You'd make a lot of money for a place like this," I stuttered in a strangled voice. Harry shook his head. "I already have more money than I could ever need - from my parents and Sirius. It's only right that 12 Grimmauld Place stays in the Black family, and that's you now."
"Are you sure Harry?" I breathed. Harry nodded his head. "It's what your father would want, and we sort of owe him a favour - he did discover that horcrux after all."
I beamed and threw myself at Harry. "Oh, thank you so much Harry!"
Harry laughed and hugged me back. At the piano, Ron and Hermione turned around to watch, smiling in a knowing way, as if they'd known this was going to happen. Perhaps Harry had discussed this with them whilst I was engrossed in my cleaning. I hardly cared at that moment if they'd been talking about me, this was the best news I'd received in a long time.
"You can have the house-elf too, if he ever comes back," Harry added with a cheeky grin. As if by magic, there was a loud crack from downstairs, unmistakably the sound that came from a house-elf apparating. "Speaking of the devil," Ron said as the four of us jumped up and sprinted towards the door. Harry was first, with Hermione and I closely at his heels, and Ron trotting along behind.
We flung ourselves into the kitchen where the sound had emerged from, and a din of crashing pans now emerged from. There, with Kreacher wrapped around his neck and the house-elf Dobby around his leg, was Mundungus Fletcher.
"Harry Potter!" Dobby cheered, smiling as Mundungus strained against the two surprisingly strong house-elves, "how long it has been!"
Harry beamed at Dobby and Kreacher, clearly impressed with their work, even if they were a few days late. There was a tremendous crash as Dung, Kreacher and Dobby fell to the floor, the two elves jumping up again easily, and Dung rubbing his back as he hobbled to his feet.
"As requested," Kreacher drawled, "Kreacher has returned with the thief..."
Dung drew out his wand whilst rubbing his head, but he was too slow for Hermione, who flicked her wand and said "expelliarmus!" His wand flew through the air and was in her hand before he could even let out a loud curse-word.
"What you playin' at?" Dung shouted at Harry, edging away from him. "Settin' a pair of bleedin' 'ouse-elves on me!"
"Careful Dung," I warned in a threatening tone, my wand drawn and ready to use on the useless piece of filth should it be needed. I hadn't forgotten that he was the reason Mad-Eye was dead, and neither it seemed, had Harry, who looked to be having difficulty restraining himself. Thankfully, Dobby clambered onto the table, and drew Harry's attention away from throttling Dung.
"Dobby was only trying to help! Dobby saw Kreacher in Diagon Alley, which Dobby thought was curious, and then, Dobby heard Kreacher mention Harry Potter's name, and then, Dobby saw Kreacher talking with the thief Mundungus Fletcher!"
"Oi! I'm no thief!" Dung shouted at Dobby, interrupting his speech. "You foul little..." Dung lunged forward, but when I copied him exactly, he shrank back fearfully and gulped. "Git," he muttered.
Straightening his suit, Dung announced "I'm a buyer of rare and wondrous objects!"
"You're a thief Dung and everyone knows it," Ron hissed, stepping forward threateningly. Dung gulped - Ron was double his size in both height and muscle.
"Master Weasley, so good to see you again!" Dobby exclaimed, reaching out his hand to shake Ron's. My brother grinned, and took Dobby's tiny palm into his hand. Ron complimented Dobby's peculiar choice of footwear in return, but I barely heard it as I continued to glare at Dung.
"Listen, I panicked that night, alright?" He stuttered as we backed him into a corner. He fell down on the rickety old seat behind him, and clutched the arms of it nervously. "Can I 'elp it that Mad-Eye fell off 'is broom?" Harry's jaw clicked as he tried to restrain himself.
"Tell the truth," Hermione demanded.
"When you turned this place over - don't deny it - you found a locket. Am I right?" Harry barked. Dung leaned back into the corner, his eyes flickering between Harry and Kreacher at his feet, waving a knife dangerously close to his face.
"Why, was it valuable?" Dung retorted.
Kreacher poked him with the sharp knife for his insolence.
"You've still got it?" Hermione asked, her voice high with hope that perhaps obtaining the horcrux would be a lot easier than we'd thought.
"No," Ron answered her, "he's worried he didn't get enough money for it."
"Bleedin' gave it away, didn't I? There I was, floggin' my wares in Diagon Alley, when some Ministry 'ag comes up and asks to see my license. Says she's a mind to lock me up." Dung rubbed his hairless scalp, as if the memory of the close shave with the Ministry witch was a particularly difficult memory for him. I rolled my eyes and stepped a little closer, growing more impatient with each passing second.
"She would 'ave done too, if she 'adn't 'ave taken a fancy to that locket," he quickly added.
"Who was she?" Harry asked. "The witch, do you know?"
Dung shook his head. "No, I..." He drifted off as he looked at a pile of newspapers by his feet, his eyes growing wide as he stood up and grabbed one.
"Well she's there," he said, jabbing to a photograph on the front of the most recent edition of the Daily Prophet. We all craned our necks to see as Dung set it down on the table. "Bleedin' bow and all!" he added.
I stared at the photograph, and I could have sworn I felt every one of our hearts sink. There, standing bold as brass with that familiar smug smile on her face, was a woman I had hoped never to encounter again.
How I hated Dolores Umbridge.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Come on Kreacher!"
The house-elf bounded up the steps behind me, having just returned from returning Dung to Diagon Alley. Hermione wiped his memory - we knew better than most how Dung's loyalty could be easily bought. None of us wanted to risk him blabbing about knowing where Harry Potter and his friends were hiding the next time he was drunk in the Leaky Cauldron.
Kreacher couldn't believe his bat-like ears when I'd told him that I had a surprise for him. I stopped outside the door of the room I had made for Kreacher, and smiled down at the house-elf.
"I hope you don't mind, but I was looking for some books on households spells, and so I looked in your cupboard and I couldn't help but notice how small and uncomfortable it looked. So..."
I pushed open the door, revealing the room to Kreacher, whose eyes had expanded to twice their normal size in his awe. "I thought that you might like a bedroom of your own. You've served my family so faithfully for all these years, and so I thought that you deserved a reward."
Kreacher stepped into the bedroom, staring at the human sized bed that must seem gigantic to him. I'd tried my absolute best to make the room as nice and homely for him as possible, and it seemed as if all my efforts had paid off - Kreacher was speechless.
He picked up a small hand-mirror I'd found in a box upstairs and stared at his reflection, perhaps wondering how he - a simple house-elf - had come to own possessions designed for the wealthiest of wizards. I'd moved everything from his little cupboard to the room whilst he'd been away, and now he admired the Black family trinkets that he'd stashed over the years as Sirius had tried to throw them away, all lined up nicely on a shelf.
"Mistress Black..." Kreacher breathed, turning to look at me.
"Kreacher does not deserve such a gift, Mistress."
I smiled and shook my head. "Yes, you do Kreacher. Harry said that once all of this is over, he's going to give me 12 Grimmauld Place. If this is going to be my house, I want you to be comfortable."
Kreacher's eyes simultaneously lit up and flooded with tears. I'd never seen him look so emotional before. "Mistress Black is going to be the owner? A Black owning this house again? Kreacher is so happy!"
I chuckled and patted him on his head. He was still dressed in his potato sack, but no matter how much I wanted to I couldn't give him clothes too. To present a house-elf with an item of clothing sets him free, and we couldn't run the risk of him running straight to cousin Bellatrix.
Still, he seemed to be going fonder of Harry every second, since I added that Harry had given me permission to give him his own room.
I left him in his bedroom a few moments later, avidly inspecting each of the heirlooms I'd placed in the room. Glad to have made somebody happy, I returned downstairs in search of the others, finding them sat in the kitchen, already concocting a plan on how exactly we were going to steal a horcrux from somebody who was currently the most powerful and vile woman in the Ministry of Magic. To my surprise, their talking ceased as I entered, and a bad feeling swept over me.
"What's going on?" I asked, taking a seat beside Ron. They exchanged looks, before Harry decided to tell me.
"We have a plan Li, Hermione says you can brew some Polyjuice potions in next to no time, and then we're going to stun some Ministry officials - Mafalda Hopkirk, Albert Runcorn and Reginald Cattermole. Hermione can grab some hair from them and then we're going to take the potion and sneak into the Ministry. Then we search Umbridge's office - rumour is that she practically lives there these days - and find the locket. Simple!"
I frowned. "What about me?"
They all exchanged wary looks. "Well, the thing is..." Harry started.
"Considering that you can get a little..." Hermione added.
I looked to Ron, who gulped, but nonetheless answered me. "We think that because you can sometimes go off the rails - it's not your fault of course, its the mark - so it might be better if you stayed here."
I paused for a few seconds, the horror growing inside me. "You can't be serious?"
They looked at one another sheepishly. "You're making me stay behind? Just because you've got it in your heads that I'm emotionally unstable and might curse someone at any second? Do you know how stupid that sounds?!"
They shrugged their shoulders. "Somebody needs to stay behind Li," Harry muttered.
"But this was the locket that my father died for. You're telling me that I can't be the one to destroy it?"
"We never said that," Harry objected. He moved to sit beside me. "Li, I promise you that when we get the locket, you can be the one to destroy it, ok? But it won't be safe if you go with us, you know that."
I shook my head and buried my face in my hands. There was no arguing with Harry when he had that determined look in his eye. Furious, I threw the chair away as I stood up and stormed to the door. "I'm going to bed," I barked, before storming upstairs, slamming the door of my father's room for dramatic effect.