"To the Dark Lord. I know I will be dead long before you read this... I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it..." Harry rereads the note that was found in the fake horcrux.
"R.A.B. was Sirius' brother?" Ron asks.
The four of us sit around the kitchen table. Sloppy stacks of old daily prophets surround us.
"Yes. Question is, did he actually destroy the real Horcrux?" I ask.
Harry nods... then spots a shadow trembling on the wall just outside the kitchen. He scrambles up and out of sight.
"Stop! I order you!" His voice echoes. Seconds later, Harry reappears... dragging Kreacher the house-elf by one ear. Kreacher mumbles foully.
"Kreacher..." Hermione trails off.
"Oh, Harry. Be nice, won't you?" I say, getting up from my seat.
"Been spying on us, have you?" Harry is speaking in harsh tones.
"Kreacher has been... watching. Kreacher always watches."
"Harry, for goodness sakes, leave him be!" I pull Harry's hand off of the house elf. "He hasn't done us any harm."
He looks at me questioningly. "Did you know he was here?"
I nod. "Yes, I saw him last night before I fell asleep."
"Miss Potter made Kreacher dinner." The house elf looks at me with kind eyes, and then glares back at Harry.
"You cooked for the bloody house elf?" Ron asks me.
I turn to him. "Yes, I bloody did." Then I turn back to Harry. "He's been here, alone for months."
"Do you not remember how he treated us the last time we saw him?" Harry questions me.
"Oh please, if I held a grudge for something like that, then I probably wouldn't be speaking to you with all the shit you've pulled." I glare at him. Hermione glances between us.
"Maybe he knows." She says, trying to break the tension.
Harry glances at her, realizes what she means, takes the locket and dangles it before Kreacher's massive eyes like a hypnotist. Kreacher watches it sway back and forth.
"Ever seen this before?" Kreacher grumbles incoherently. "Kreacher, we own this place. Sirius left it to me and Mia. Which means, we own you too."
I slap his arm. "He's not a slave, Harry." I kneel down to Kreachers level. "Please, Kreacher, tell us what you know."
Kreacher grimaces mightily, then gives in. "That was Master Regulus' locket."
"That's right. But there were two, weren't there?" I ask gently. Kreacher's eyes widen in surprise. He nods again. "Where's the other one?"
"Kreacher doesn't know where the other locket is."
"But was it here? Did you ever see it?" Hermione asks.
Kreacher spins, his face ugly and vicious. "Filthy Mudblood! The Death Eaters will soon be coming for you!" Ron snatches Kreacher by the neck, and shakes him. "Blood-traitor Weasley!" He gargles out.
"Ron!" Hermione and I shout at him. Reluctantly, Ron releases the elf.
"Answer her." Harry instructs
"Yes. It was here, in this house. A most evil object..." Kreacher rubs his neck where Ron had his grasp.
"How do you mean?"
"Before he died, Master Regulus ordered Kreacher to destroy it. It was the last thing he asked of Kreacher. But no matter how Kreacher tried, he could not.." Kreacher backed away, looking almost sad. I can tell he misses Regulus. I kneel back down to his level.
"Where is it now? Did someone take it, Kreacher?" I ask softly. The house elf nods.
"He came in the night. He took many things, including the locket."
"Who, Kreacher? Who was it?" Harry badgers him. Kreacher glares back up at my brother and I roll my eyes.
"Who took the locket, Kreacher?" I ask kindly.
"Mundungus. Mundungus Fletcher." We glance at one another, then I turn back to Kreacher, looking him in the eye.
"Find him."
A loud crack fills our ears as he apparates out of sight.
"Still can't believe you didn't tell us he was here." Ron says to me.
"While I agree, he shouldn't have said those things about you and Hermione, he didn't deserve to be manhandled, Ronald." I cross my arms at him.
"You're joking right?" He raises his brow at me.
"Mia, seriously, you should have told us." Harry says to me. I look to my brother.
"He didn't seem like he wanted you to know."
"So you're going to side with him?" Ron bellows out.
"What side? There's no side!" I raise my voice. "We stepped foot into his home, we ate his food..."
Harry cuts me off. "It's our home! Sirius left this place to us!"
"Yes, but we haven't been living in it, have we?" The boys go silent. Hermione walks up to me and grabs my hand.
"Come on, lets just all settle down."
My angered expression fades and I take a deep breath in. "Your right, your right. I'm sorry." I look to the boys. "I'm sorry. I should've said something."
Harry and Ron look to each other. "Sorry we yelled." They both mutter.
"Let me make some tea, alright?" Hermione suggests and we nod our heads. I go up to the boys and wrap my arms around them both.
"I didn't get much sleep, that's all. Sorry again." I release them both and walk back to the living room, needing some time to compose myself.
I take a seat on the sofa, resting my head into my hands. Letting out soft sobs, trying not to be too loud so the others won't hear. Then I hear light footsteps and a soft voice.
"Mia?" I know exactly who it is without looking up.
Hermione makes her way towards me, sitting down next to me, and putting her hand gently on my back.
"Mia, please talk to me." She says. "Tell me what's really going on."
"I'm worried, Hermione." I tell her, slowly lifting my head. "I'm worried about everyone. You, Ron, Harry, Ginny, Fred..." I trail off.
"Oh, so that's what's been bothering you?" She asks and I nod, placing my head on her shoulder.
"I miss him." I say, trying to hold in my tears. "What if I never see him again?"
"Mia, you can't think like that." She tries to comfort me. "Fred is going to be just fine. You are going to be just fine."
"Yes, but how do you know?" I look up at her.
"I'm your best friend." She pulls out a tissue and hands it to me. "It's my job to know these things."
I smile at her words and use the tissue to blow my nose.
"Besides, he's got a few tricks up his sleeve. Always has."
She stands up and extends her hand for me to grab. "He does, doesn't he?"
"Yes." She smiles. "And so do you."
"Me?" I question. "What do I have?"
"You've got me."
I engulf her in a hug, squeezing tight, as if to say thank you. She returns it, as if to say you're welcome.
We both return to the kitchen to find Ron fiddling with the radio, which whistles eerily as he attempts to find a signal. Harry lies on his side, studying the Snitch in his palm, its wings flapping slowly.
"They have flesh memories." I say, walking over to him. Harry turns, sees that I am eyeing the Snitch. "Snitches. They're never touched by bare skin until the Seeker captures it. Even the wizard who fabricates it wears gloves. That way, if there's a dispute, the Snitch can identify who first touched it."
"You mean... it remembers me?" He asks. I nod.
"When Scrimgeour first gave it to you, I thought it might open at your touch, that Dumbledore had hidden something in it." I tell him. Harry ponders this, eyeing the wings flapping slowly, then we hear another loud crack.
Crazy shadows spill from a far door and pots crash. Suddenly, a tiny figure, wet and rigged, tumbles into our view, bangs into the wall opposite, and scrambles up. As he starts back for the kitchen, he stops. Sees Harry and I and smiles. It's Dobby.
"Harry and Amelia Potter! So long it's been-" Just then, a hand, Kreacher's, reaches out, grabs Dobby by the neck and pulls him away.
Kreacher, Dobby and Mundungus Fletcher tumble from one side of the kitchen to the other. As they fly apart, Mundungus rolls to his feet, dripping wet, wand flashing.
"Expelliarmus!" Hermione casts. Mundungus' wand soars into the air and into her hand.
"As requested, Kreacher has returned with the thief Mundungus Fletcher!" Kreacher shouts.
"Dobby has also returned with the thief Mundungus Fletcher!" Dobby adds.
"Hello, Dobby! It's so good to see you-" I get cut off.
"What are you playing at, setting a pair of bleedin' 'ouse-elves on me!" Mundungus whines, still struggling. Ron and Harry both France him by the collar of his shirt and shove him into a chair, the four of us pointing our wands at him.
"Dobby was only trying to help!" Dobby begins to explain. "Dobby saw Kreacher in Diagon Alley, which Dobby thought was curious. And then Dobby heard Kreacher mention Harry and Amelia Potter's name, which Dobby thought was very curious. And then Dobby saw that Kreacher was talking to the thief Mundungus Fletcher, which Dobby thought was very, very-"
He's interrupted but Mundungus. "I'm no thief, you foul little git. I'm a purveyer of rare and wondrous objects-"
"You're a thief, Dung. Everyone knows it." Ron states. Dobby smiles, not noticing Ron before.
"Master Weasley! So good to see you again!" Ron nods, eyes the bright red shoes on Dobby's feet.
"Wicked trainers."
"Listen, I panicked that night, all right? I never volunteered to die for you, mate. Can I help it if Mad-Eye fell off his broom-"
"Stop lying!" Hermione shouts. She begins to move toward Mundungus. Ron reaches out, takes her by the shoulders, eyes Mundungus warningly. I take a step towards him.
"Piece of advice. Let's not rehash old times." I say.
"When you turned this place over, don't deny it!" Harry begins to question him. "You found a locket, am I right?"
"Why? Was it valuable?" He leans forward and asks.
"You've still got it." Harry says, wishful thinking. I scoff.
"No. He's worried he should have got more money for it." I cross my arms.
"Wouldn't be difficult, would it?" Mundungus starts to pout. "Bleedin' gave it away, din' I? There I was, pitching me wares in Diagon Alley when some ministry hag comes up and asks to see my license. Says she's of a mind to lock me up and would've, too, she hadn' taken a fancy to that locket."
"Who was she? This witch?" Harry asks.
"Well, she's right there, in't she?" He points to the stacks of Daily Prophet. "Bleedin' bow an' all."
We crowd around to take a look at the photo.
"It can't be..." Harry mutters.
"Bloody hell." Ron rolls his eyes.
"No..." Hermione looks terrified.
"Dolores Fucking Umbridge." I sigh.