"After the Dark Lord left, Kreacher was so thirsty… He crawled to the edge of the island to drink from the black lake, but hands reached up from the water, trying to drag him under… But Kreacher remembered Master Regulus's order: go home, go home…"
"When Master Regulus found out Kreacher had come back, he was terribly worried. He told Kreacher to hide and not leave the house.
Some time passed… then Master Regulus came to Kreacher again. Kreacher could see how troubled he was. The young master asked Kreacher to take him to the cave—the same cave the Dark Lord had taken Kreacher to… Later, Master Regulus took a locket from his pocket, one that looked exactly like the Dark Lord's.
He told Kreacher to wait until the stone basin was empty, then swap the lockets—and ordered Kreacher to leave him, not to worry about him… He told Kreacher to go home, not to tell the mistress, but to destroy this locket… Then… then he drank all the potion. Kreacher swapped the lockets, and watched as Master Regulus was dragged beneath the water…"
Kreacher's tears streamed down his face. He turned, clinging to the banister, and slammed his head into it over and over.
"Master Regulus forbade Kreacher from telling the family… but Kreacher told Master Sirius. Kreacher broke Master Regulus's orders… Kreacher didn't destroy the locket. Kreacher is not a good house-elf…"
With a sigh, Douglas immobilized Kreacher again, while Sirius stood frozen, staring at the locket in Douglas's hands, mumbling:
"So this is the locket? The thing Voldemort valued so much. It's just Slytherin's locket, isn't it? Why was it worth his life? Tell me why! He couldn't have thought stealing this would defeat Voldemort… What a foolish idiot…"
Sirius's eyes were red. He simply couldn't understand what Regulus had been thinking.
Douglas produced a magic-suppressing stone box from his pocket and placed the locket inside. When Kreacher saw Douglas storing the locket instead of destroying it, he began to whimper in panic. This time, Douglas sealed his mouth completely to keep him from blurting anything out.
He explained, "Let me be honest with you. This isn't just Slytherin's locket—it's also one of Voldemort's Horcruxes. There's a fragment of Voldemort's soul inside. Dumbledore has been searching for this. Horcruxes are the key to Voldemort's immortality, so we have to destroy them. Clearly, Regulus discovered Voldemort's secret…"
He didn't finish, but turned to Kreacher, his voice suddenly cold:
"If you think what Regulus died to protect is so worthless, you're welcome to tell Voldemort when he returns… Bellatrix and Narcissa both carry Black family blood. You can always claim loyalty to them, and they serve Voldemort."
Kreacher shook his head desperately, trying to speak but unable to do more than whimper with his mouth sealed.
Sirius, hearing this, grew stern. In a hoarse, harsh voice, he barked at Kreacher:
"As the head of the Black family, I order you—no matter what happens, you are never to reveal what happened today to anyone. Remember, to anyone.
Hah, you think I don't know why you dared break Regulus's order and tell me? It's because my name's been blasted off the family tree. You never really saw me as a Black. Of course, I never liked that identity either…
But don't forget the Black tradition: the house passes from generation to generation, to the next male Black. Whether you or I like it, I am the last male heir of the Black family now. My orders cannot be disobeyed."
He shot a disgruntled look at Douglas. "This is all so important—why haven't you just sent him away? Why let him hear any of this?"
Douglas shrugged. "I don't mind. Sooner or later, we'll have to face Voldemort anyway. I said all this in front of him for a reason: to remind you both—no matter how much you resent or dislike each other, reality is reality. Kreacher can't escape you, and you can't escape him. Even if you can't treat him kindly, don't be cruel.
House-elves are living beings too. They know who treats them well and who doesn't. They'll rebel—in their own way."
At that, Dobby, standing nearby, was moved to tears. He'd always believed his master was truly a good person.
As for what Kreacher might do, Douglas didn't much care—but Sirius's psychological baggage needed some work. Call it stubbornness or call it obsession, but his impulsiveness and disregard for consequences worried Douglas. He didn't want his great-nephew growing up under Sirius's shadow.
The Black family was gone, but the house-elf who carried on its spirit still lived. No matter how much Sirius despised the Black values, reality was reality—he was bound to Kreacher. Perhaps that was why Sirius felt such resistance and disgust.
He doubted Sirius would ever see Kreacher as family—nor did he need to. To Sirius, Kreacher was nothing more than a stubborn, moldy relic of the Black name—a stain he couldn't shake.
He had to admit, Sirius was right: Kreacher had never truly accepted him as master. In Kreacher's heart, his master had always been Regulus.
Douglas had always thought the psychology of house-elves was a fascinating subject—especially Kreacher, who combined blind loyalty with his own brand of resentment and rebellion.
He was nothing like Dobby. Dobby believed in freedom, saw himself as an individual. But traditional house-elves like Kreacher believed only in their masters—they were everything. Yet he was also cunning, skilled at lying to himself.
What interested Douglas most now was whether, if Sirius changed his ways, Kreacher would still betray him…
Of course, he was really just preparing a research subject for his student, Hermione Granger, to study in the future.
In his previous life, he'd thought Hermione's understanding of house-elves was misguided. She needed to analyze each case individually—respect isn't something you can just hand out; it's something you earn.
Dobby's freedom, respect, and affection were all earned through his own efforts. But Kreacher…
Douglas suddenly felt like a truly outstanding teacher—he'd planned ahead two years for his student's future research.
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