Chapter Thirty-Eight:
( the mystery of rab )

▂✫⌒*･ﾟ

             "SHIT, WHERE ARE WE?" Ron curses, his hand still clutching onto Spencer as if hoping what just happened had been nothing but a dream. Lights are streaming down their face within the whole crowd of muggles. It is nighttime, but the streets are still busy and everything is loud. Spencer has no idea where she is, though, she figures Hermione does by the way her eyes sadden in thought. The young Montague pats down her dress before grabbing Ricky's hand again to reassure not only herself but him that they are together and breathing. Merlin, she hates this. She was having the time of her life and then... this. Her boyfriend's words linger in her mind and she craves hearing it again— she did not know it was going to the last time for awhile now. He should have been able to finish his sentence, to lead her to the dance floor once more and spin her like she has nothing to lose. To kiss like if they still have the rest of their lives— fuck, she hates Voldemort so much.

             Hermione grabs Ron and Harry's hands while pulling them forward. There is a bag that she is holding in her arms that Spencer knows is the one they both packed on. It is no surprise the two girls are the ones being prepared for what is to come— or for what just came. "Tottenham Court Road. Let's just continue walking. We need to find some place to change," Hermione pants.

             All five of them half walk, half run up the wide dark street. Some muggles are eyeing them oddly especially with the type of clothes that Harry and Ron are wearing. While Ricky is still noticeable with the muggle suit he has on, it is more odd to find the two others with dress robes instead. Then again, Hermione and Spencer keep getting eye by elderly man clearly not knowing how to respect others. Ricky puts himself protectively in front of Spencer while eyeing others distastefully and only stops when they reach a dark alleyway.

             "We haven't got anything with us," Ron groans. Harry mimics his expression while angrily telling himself, "How stupid can I be? I always carried the Cloak and now—"

             "I've got the Cloak and some clothes as well," Hermione cuts him off. She pushes the boys deeper in the alleyway and then motions for Spencer to approach her. Spencer takes off her necklace immediately and takes out the miniature bag that is there. Passing the necklace carefully toward Ricky, she gives her attention to Hermione who nods impressively before pointing her wand at the bag making it return to its normal size. Harry and Ron watch with open mouths, especially when Hermione begins taking some stuff out of her own.

             Ron blinks numerous times before pointing at the two of them. "How the ruddy hell—"

             "Undetectable Extension Charm," Hermione answers immediately. She takes out the Cloak and some clothes for the three boys before handing a different setting for Spencer (even though Spencer has all those things as well). A few books fall out of the bag before Hermione picks them up and simply throws them inside again despite it having been categorized. While Harry wears the Invisibility Cloak over his body (after changing into normal clothing), Ron and Ricky begin stripping down to change into different clothes.

             After the boys are done, they put themselves toward the entrance of the alleyway and lets the two girls begin undressing themselves. Harry offered to give them the Invisibility Cloak for the meantime, but not wanting him to get risked seen by some Death Eater, Spencer and Hermione both denied the kind gesture. Spencer zips up her pants and fixes down her shirt while stretching out her toes with the comfortable shoes that she brought from her own bag (thankfully because then they would be out in the run with some party ones).

             When they finish, they return to the boys and nods. Ron lets out a sigh and smiles toward Hermione. "You are amazing, you are," he compliments her surely.

             "The others— at the wedding—" Harry stammers beneath the Cloak. While Spencer cannot see him, she knows he is close by them and has a face of worry. She frowns at the reminder and lets her gaze go toward Ricky. He too is frowning but upon her stare, he gives her a light smile as if telling her that they will be okay. Is that true? The two of them do not know, but she hopes to cling into the fact that in the end it will be.

             Hermione glances around nervously as she tells him, "We can't worry about that now."

             Ron nods in agreement. "She's right. It is you they were looking for you, mate. Half the Order was there anyway," he comforts Harry, his eyes staring past the small empty space.

             Spencer takes a look around the streets before staring at Hermione and urging them to leave. Hermione nods in agreement and tells the rest to follow her steps since she is the one who recognizes the place. Ricky holds Spencer's hand while they make their way through the muggle streets where Hermione used to go with her parents. The young Montague scowls in annoyance when older men continuously look to Hermione and her as if they are nothing but pieces of meat. The three boys notices their discomfort, but since Harry is invisible, Ricky and Ron are the ones to put themselves in front of them. Spencer scrunches up her nose in disgust as another man wolf-whistle to their way.

             "We can hardly book rooms at Leaky Cauldron, and Grimmauld Place is out if Snape can get there... I suppose we can try my parent's house, but there is a chance they might—" Hermione does not finish her sentence in where they should go to because of how extremely loud the men continue to be. Spencer huffs in annoyance and then goes to turn into one of their direction before Hermione grabs her arm.

             "You two fancy a drink? Get rid of the brunette and the ginger and come get some pint!" One of the drunk men yell in what they think is suppose to be seductively. Ricky pushes her along forward (because Spencer was about to punch the man) so Hermione can lead them to a place to sit.

             Spencer glares at the muggles while they sit inside a small and shabby all-night café. She sits beside Hermione and Ricky since they put her in between. The two probably figure she will cause a fight with some muggles and Spencer would never, but unless they try to do anything, she will start throwing some punches. Honestly, she cannot believe she still needs to wait seventeen days for her birthday until she can finally use magic without being traced. Until now, magic for her is prohibited so she does not expose her friends. That also means that the other three of them will have to help her.

             After a minute or two of silence, Ron finally speaks up, "We're not too far from the Leaky Cauldron—"

             "Ron, we can't!" Hermione exclaims in a voice loud but not too loud to grab attention.

             Ron raises his hand up defensively. "Not to stay there but to find out what is going on," he claims weakly. Spencer frowns at the thought. They do know what is going on. Or at least somewhat. The Death Eaters has taken over the Ministry which means that they stand correctly with Hogwarts no longer being safe and every muggle in the streets potentially becoming more victims. Worry spurs inside her while she thinks of her own friends and brother. A new thought crosses her mind while she lets her eyes wander to the two people beside her.

             "What's gonna happen to the muggleborns that are going or are at Hogwarts?" Spencer whispers to her friends. Hermione and Ricky stiffen as they realize what she means. Muggleborns are categorized as 'mudbloods' meaning that if they do go to school it will be nothing but torture. The Ministry is practically the ones that protect them in some way or gives them a chance and now that is gone. Her two closest muggleborn friends are with her, but what about the ones they know? The ones at Hogwarts?

             No one gets to answer since one of the waitress makes her way toward them with a notepad. Spencer raises her eyebrow questioningly almost heading to ask for a butterbeer before remembering this is a muggle place. She lets Hermione order four cappuccinos (whatever that is) and the waitress leaves to get them done. Spencer leans her head toward Ricky's shoulder and only watches briefly as two workmen sit on the booth beside them. She cannot really see their faces clearly, but something does not sit right with her. Either, they do not like being separated by people, or they are not what they seem. Seriously, there are more empty booths ahead of them and yet they are right beside them! She quietly leans forward knowing that it is better to be safe than sorry, especially with her.

             "Do any of them look familiar to you?" Spencer questions in a low voice making sure to not grab their attention whether it is or it is not Death Eaters. Ricky hums in questioning before immediately silencing at the nudge she briefly gives him. Hermione whispers a 'no' back while Ron stiffens slightly and slowly nods his head. With her eyes, she basically (and hopes Ron understands) asks if they are followers of Voldemort. Again, another nod. Well, fuck, she realizes, stiffening her own posture.

             Ron clears his throat as if nothing happened (he drank some of that cappuccino beforehand) and tells them, "Let's get going, then. I don't want to drink this muck. You've got any money, H?" He is careful not to mention the word 'muggle' nor 'Hermione' in case it gets their attention.

             Unfortunately, his technique does not work. The two workmen make identical movements and Spencer notices Harry mirror them without conscious thought (he was still invisible but a red light pass from his side). She too takes out her own wand until Ricky grabs her hand and shakes his head, his being out defensively toward the two of them. While Ron covers Hermione from being hit with a spell, one of the Death Eaters had already cast one toward where Ron's head had been. The wall behind him shatters completely. Ricky pulls her close to him, his body being put over hers protectively.

             The great blonde Death Eater gets hit right on the face by Harry's Stunning Charm and renders unconscious. The other one, who Spencer now recognizes as Dolohov, takes another chance to curse Ron, but Harry doubles another Stunning Charm. This time, however, it misses Dolohov and instead rebounds on the window where it hits the waitress. Ouch, Spencer flinches. She allows for Ricky to pull her behind him while he points his wand at Dolohov and yells, "Petrificus Totalus!"

             Dolohov falls forward like a statue and practically makes everything around him break. Spencer releases a sigh of relief and claps Ricky's back with proudness. "Amazing," she compliments him, earning back a small strained smile.

             Harry takes off his Invisibility Cloak and heads toward the Death Eaters. "Good job recognizing them, Spence. I should have too. He was there the night Dumbledore died," Harry recalls, making his way beside Spencer. Hermione helps Ron up and the two stare down at them in recognition.

             "That's Dolohov. The big one is Thorfinn Rowle, I think," Ron points out in agreement.

             Spencer makes a face and nods. "I couldn't really see their faces at first, but I guess I was just paranoid..." she explains vaguely, glaring down at the two Death Eaters. "We're lucky there was only two."

             "Never mind what they're called! How did they find us?" Hermione exclaims hysterically, her eyes widening in panic. Oh, she is right. How did they find them? Was it because of herself? Spencer frowns thinking over what has happen. No, she has not used her wand or magic to do anything. The Trace is meant to be only for when she last used magic and that was back when helping Harry get to the Burrow, not now. How did they find them?

             "Am I endangering all of us?" Spencer sighs out, her eyes locking with Harry. He stares back at her before shaking his head. Hermione does the same.

             "No, no. You still have the Trace but you haven't even used magic to alert them that you're with us," Hermione decides, pursing her lips in thought. Her eyes wander to Harry. "Maybe since the Ministry is now... you might still have the Trace on you," she points out quietly. Spencer does not think so, but all the same, she truly does not know.

             Harry softens his gaze before his voice hardens. "Lock the doors," he orders Hermione. His gaze falls to Ron. "Turn out the lights."

             Ron takes out his Deluminator and all the lights inside the café store turn into complete darkness. Spencer stays staring at the Death Eater wondering what is it that they are going to do. She only turns away when Ricky squeezes her hand and she notices his obvious discomfort at almost being caught by Death Eaters.

             "What are we going to do with them? Kill them? They'd kill us. They had a good go just now," Ron whispers fearfully. Although, his question is completely morally wrong, Spencer knows why he mentioned it. The five of them should not be found so early in their adventure of hunting down Horcruxes. Hermione and Ricky shudder at his claim and take a step back. Spencer follows along in their movements not wanting the blood of someone on her hands... being responsible for someone's death is not something she wishes to carry in her eidetic memory for the rest of her life. Just thinking about doing it gives her cold chills.

             Harry thankfully shakes his head assuredly. "We just need to erase their memory," he finds another route. Spencer relaxes at his statement and nods. She opens her mouth to say that she will do it, but then remembers that she cannot use magic. They notice her movement and nod at her with acceptance before Hermione steps up.

             "I suppose I know the theory as well," the brilliant Gryffindor mumbles, taking out her wand and pointing it straight at Dolohov's forehead. Spencer gently squeezes her shoulder in comfort and whispers, "You have to mean it, alright? These are Death Eaters, you don't want them to remember."

             Hermione nods at her words before casting, "Obliviate." Dolohov's eyes became unfocused and then dreamy alerting them it worked.

             "Brilliant!" Harry exclaims proudly, clapping her on the back. "Take care of the other one and the waitress while Ron and I clear up. Ricky and Spence, be on a lookout for now."

             Spencer turns away from them and stares out through the window. To the people outside the store is close with all the lights completely shut down. It is odd how the Deluminator works. Giving them complete privacy but also allowing them to do wonders. She eyes the older men that catcalled her and Hermione and notice them do it to another young girl. Disgusting, she scrunches up her nose. If only she can use her wand to jinx those men.

             She hears Ron struggle for a moment and turns to see him extract his wand from his pocket. "It's no wonder I can't get it out, Hermione, you packed my old jeans, they're tight."

             "Oh, I'm so sorry," hisses Hermione, and as she drags the waitress out of sight of the windows, they all hear her mutter a suggestion as to where Ron could stick his wand instead. Ricky stifles a snicker and shares a look of amusement with Spencer. She shrugs unknowingly before turning back once she hears most of them finish their assignment.

             Once the café is restored to its previous condition, they heave the Death Eaters back into their booth and prop them up facing each other. "But how did they find us?" Hermione asks, looking from one inert man to the other. "How did they know where we were?"

             She turns to Harry. "You — you don't think you've still got your Trace on you, do you, Harry?"

             "He can't have," Ron disagrees. "The Trace breaks at seventeen, that's Wizarding law, you can't put it on an adult."

             "As far as you know," Hermione points out. "What if the Death Eaters have found a way to put it on a seventeen-year-old?"

             Spencer shakes her head knowing she is thinking this way because of being raised a muggle. "No, they couldn't have. Perhaps only those like the Great Merlin, but these Death Eaters are empty-headed. They think only with their wands and not with their heads," she backs up Ron with a simple shrug.

             Hermione does not reply. Harry stays silent for a couple of seconds before letting his gaze fall to the ground. "If I can't use magic, and you can't use magic near me, without us giving away our position —" he begins.

             "We're not splitting up!" Hermione interrupts firmly.

             "We need a safe place to hide," Ron supplies in. "Give us time to think things through."

             "Grimmauld Place," Harry states immediately. Ron and Hermione gape at him while Spencer stays unbothered. She never visited the place, but meeting up with Harry those times back in school allowed for her to know what he means. However, Ricky has no utter clue and is staring at them in confusion. While the idea sounds completely dangerous, it is possibly the only chance they have at the moment.

             "Don't be silly, Harry, Snape can get in there!" Hermione gasps out in surprise. Yeah, Spencer hums, that is a huge problem. Though, she cannot think of anything else. Not unless they can go on the run on the countryside and forget all about Voldemort leaving all these muggles and wizards to suffer his wrath... yeah, Sirius's old place sounds better than this.

             "Ron's dad said they've put up jinxes against him — and even if they haven't worked," Harry presses on as Hermione begins to argue, "so what? I swear, I'd like nothing better than to meet Snape!"

             "But —"

             "Hermione, where else is there? It's the best chance we've got. Snape's only one Death Eater. If I've still got the Trace on me, we'll have whole crowds of them on us wherever else we go," Harry continues to argue. Noticing the discomfort on Hermione's face, Spencer slowly steps in between them and holds out her arm.

             She gives Harry a short nod. "Alright, but the second we're in danger, we need to leave straight away," Spencer warns. Her eyes wander to the others and they seem to have a look of agreement on her words.

             Hermione unlocks the café door, Ron clicks the Deluminator to release the café's light. Then, on Harry's count of three, they reverse the spells upon their three victims, and before the waitress or either of the Death Eaters could do more than stir sleepily, Harry, Ricky (with Spencer holding onto him), Ron, and Hermione have turned on the spot and vanished into the compressing darkness once more.

             Seconds later, Spencer's lungs expand gratefully and she opens her eyes: They are now standing in the middle of an unfamiliar small and shabby square. Tall, dilapidated houses look down on them from every side. For a few seconds, nothing is visible to alert them of a number twelve space. Then, number twelve begins to be visible to them and they rush toward it, checking every few yards that they are not being followed or observed. All five of them race up the stone steps, and Harry taps the front door once with his wand. They hear a series of metallic clicks and the clatter of a chain, then the door swings open with a creak and they hurry over the threshold.

             As Harry closes the door behind them, the old-fashioned gas lamps spring into life, casting flickering light along the length of the hallway. In Spencer's view, the house appears eerie, cobwebbed, the outlines of the house-elf heads on the wall throwing odd shadows up the staircase. Long dark curtains conceal some odd portrait. The only thing that seems out of place is the troll's leg umbrella stand, which is lying on its side as if Tonks knocked it over.

             "I think somebody's been in here," Hermione whispers, pointing toward it.

             Ron holds her hand and squeezes it. "That could've happened as the Order left," Ron murmurs back. Spencer would gladly tell them if she knew. Except she does not because she barely knew Sirius for only five minutes before he succumbed. Right in front of her eyes. His hand being held out as if someone can try to get him before he...

             Ricky tugs her hand and keeps her close so she would not walk a step forward. The five of them stay together on the doormat with their backs against the door. At least, until Harry finally uses that Gryffindor courage of his and takes a step forward. Almost immediately, a familiar voice is heard upon them.

             "Severus Snape?" Mad-Eye Moody's voice whispers out of the darkness, making all five of them jump back in fright.

             "We're not Snape!" croaks Harry. Spencer widens her eyes in disbelief and awe before something whooshes over her like cold air and her tongue curls backward on itself, making it impossible to speak. Before she has time to feel inside her mouth, however, her tongue unravels again. The other four seem to have experience the same unpleasant sensation. Ron is making retching noises; Hermione stammers, "That m-must have b-been the T-Tongue-Tying Curse Mad-Eye set up for Snape!"

             Gingerly, Harry takes another step forward. Spencer feels Ricky clutch onto her arm with his own wand out ready to get rid of any hex or material. Something shifts in the shadows at the end of the hall, and before any of them can say another word, a figure rises up out of the carpet, tall, dust-colored, and terrible: Hermione, Ricky, and Spencer scream and so does the portrait, the curtains flying open; the gray figure is gliding toward them, faster and faster, its waist-length hair and beard streaming behind it, its face sunken, fleshless, with empty eye sockets: Horribly familiar, dreadfully altered, it raises a wasted arm, pointing at Harry.

             "No!" Harry shouts, and though he had raised his wand no spell occurred to him. "No! It wasn't us! We didn't kill you —"

             On the word kill, the figure explodes in a great cloud of dust: Spencer falls on her knees and begins coughing. She hears Harry and Ricky doing the same thing while Hermione is crouching in the floor with her and Ron is shaking from head to foot. Ron pats Hermione's shoulder clumsily on the shoulder while stuttering, "It's all r-right... It's g-gone..."

             Although, Mad-Eye's trap is long gone, that annoying voice containing to shout still has not. Spencer stands up and fixes her clothes, a grimace on her face while she covers her ears. Who the bloody hell continues screaming?

             "Mudbloods, filth, stains of dishonor, taint of shame on the house of my fathers —" a woman's voice hollers annoyingly.

             "SHUT UP!" Harry bellows, directing his wand at her, and with a bang and a burst of red sparks, the curtains swings shut again, silencing her. Spencer raises her eyebrows impressively before her attention diverts to Hermione.

             "That...that was..." Hermione whimpers, as Ron helps her to her feet. Ricky shakily glances around the room and clears his throat, an obvious sense of discomfort in his position upon seeing the dead man straight in his face.

             Harry nods slowly. "Yeah, but it wasn't really him, was it? Just something to scare Snape."

             Spencer follows Harry since he begin leading them up the hall, half expecting some new terror to reveal itself, but nothing moves except for a mouse skittering along the skirting board. She squeals in surprise before calming down noting that it had been nothing but a mouse. Just a mouse (then again she hates mice). Nothing unusual like some Death Eater waiting for them. Hermione tugs their arms and makes them wait.

             "Before we go any farther, I think we'd better check," Hermione whispers, and she raises her wand and murmurs, "Homenum revelio."

             Nothing happens.

             "What was that supposed to do?" Ron questions confusedly. Spencer freely walks forward without a worry on her shoulder. She pats his and informs him, "It's mean to reveal human presence and what she just did practically told us there is nobody but us."

             Ron lets a sound of understanding and glances at the dust that continues to swirl around them. Spencer cannot help but be in slight awe and disgust at this particular house. Of course, it is disgusting that the walls and floors are filled with dust and cobwebs, but she finds it interesting that it somehow kept the same aesthetic or a pureblooded family except completely darker. Compared to her own manor, this room is practically soulless and the walls are dimmed black while her own manor does have light color walls that make them appear innocent when in fact they are not.

             "Let's go up," Hermione interrupts her thoughts, a frightened look on her face as she stares at some spot, and she leads the way up the creaking stairs to the drawing room on the first floor. Hermione waves her wand to ignite the old gas lamps, then, shivering slightly in the drafty room, she perches on the sofa, her arms wrapping tightly around her. Ron crosses to the window and moves the heavy velvet curtain aside an inch. Spencer stays up letting Ricky head to the couch beside Hermione whilst she wanders slowly around the building. The dust around the area makes her sneeze and she sniffles quietly on her arm until she is standing away from the furniture.

             "Can't see anyone out there," Ron reports. "And you'd think, if Harry still had a Trace on him, they'd have followed us here. I know they can't get in the house, but — what's up, Harry?"

             Spencer turns her attention toward Harry who gives out a cry of pain. Her eyes widen in worry and she walks toward him carefully. Ron does the same thing while Hermione purses her lips in fear. From the looks of it, his scar seem to burn him. She still does not understand what the means, but she hopes it doesn't mark them in danger.

             "What did you see?" Ron asked, advancing on Harry. "Did you see him at my place?"

             "No, I just felt anger— he's really angry—" Spencer furrows her brows and thinks about his words. It makes since that Voldemort is angry. The question is for what? That Harry escaped the two Death Eaters? Or because of what happened a few hours ago? Why is Voldemort angry? Spencer rubs her temples feeling a headache come up at the sudden reminder of what happened. How does a day that started off so wonderful end up so bad? All she wants to do is go back to the Burrow and hang out with Fred, George, Ginny, Theodore, and Blaise like how they were suppose to do after the wedding. It has not even been long and she misses them already.

             "But that could be at the Burrow," Ron states loudly. "What else? Didn't you see anything? Was he cursing someone?"

             "No, I just felt anger— I couldn't tell —"

             Hermione in a frightened voice brings up, "Your scar, again? But what's going on? I thought that connection had closed!"

             The two Ravenclaws stay quiet knowing their input will not work at the moment. Plus, Spencer can see how frustrated Harry has become just by that feeling and by the looks of it, it still has not stop.

             "It did, for a while," mutters Harry. "I — I think it's started opening again whenever he loses control, that's how it used—"

             "But then you've got to close your mind!" Hermione exclaims shrilly. "Harry, Dumbledore didn't want you to use that connection, he wanted you to shut it down, that's why you were supposed to use Occlumency! Otherwise Voldemort can plant false images in your mind, remember—"

             Spencer widens her eyes in disbelief and chatters, "Hermione!" She gives her a look knowing the memory it will bring Harry to will be of Sirius Black.

             She stands correct.

             "Yeah, I do remember, thanks," Harry mutters through gritted teeth. Hermione quickly silences and gives him an apologetic glance. However, Harry does not seem to notice as he turns his back on them and pretends to examine the old tapestry of the Black family tree on the wall. Spencer eyes it with interest recognizing some names, but her attention suddenly changes to a silver Patronus that soars through the drawing room window and lands upon the floor in front of them. She gasps in surprise before quietening down.

             The Patronus solidifies into a weasel that speaks with Mr. Weasley's voice, "Family safe, do not reply, we are being watched."

             The Patronus dissolves into nothingness. Ron lets out a noise between a whimper and a groan and drops onto the sofa: Hermione joins him, gripping his arm. Spencer closes her eyes and relaxes momentarily. The Weasleys are safe and if they are safe then that must mean that Daniel is too. He is a strong and brilliant wizard with skills clearly showing that as well. She begins to frown not knowing about her own boyfriend and Theodore... are they okay? Did they leave before any Death Eater could spot them? She truly hopes so. Glancing down at her chest, she remembers then that her necklace is with Ricky. Her best friend stares at her curiously before taking out the gold-shimmering accessory that Blaise gave her once upon a time. He carefully puts it on her and smiles, especially when Ron suddenly lets out a laugh and hugs Hermione.

             Spencer swallows deeply before her hand grasps onto her necklace. It glows for a few seconds and she knows that the nervousness surrounding her is being transmitted through the late night. Her heart beat increases as a few second pass and she feels nothing in response. Then, Spencer feels color reappear in her skin when she feels a warm sensation overlapping hers. The worry in her chest lessens and she holds tightly onto the stone.

             He is okay, Spencer reassures to herself. And if he is okay, then so is Theodore. She knows her relief gets sent to him as well, but she does not have time to spot his own emotion when Harry clutches onto a chair and gasps out, "Bathroom."

             Not even a second later, her friend heads running from the room to where she imagines the bathrooms are. Hermione, Ron, and Ricky all glance at one another with a slight grimace. Spencer is not sure whether Harry either wanted to barf or if the scar of his still hurts. Either way, both of those are not good and she dearly hopes that some rest will give them a better chance to redeem themselves.

.･:*:･ﾟ'✫,'✫'ﾟ･:*:･˙

             RED EYES STARING SOULLESSLY at her own hazel ones. The fear of dying before even living crossing her mind right along with a continuous pain striking her insides. Sirius Black is holding out his arms ready to hold onto something before the Veil takes him away. Lord Voldemort staring at her for mere seconds before continuing his battle with Dumbledore. The said greatest wizard of her time period falling down from the top of Astronomy tower during a cold night. Morgana plunging a needle straight on her vein, her casting the Cruciatus Curse before then snapping Dumbledore's dead body. Again, Voldemort's red eyes reappearing while she is flying up in the air and his wand is stretched out—

             Spencer gasps awake, her eyes widening in panic before she takes a look at her surroundings and notices Ricky sleeping beside her. Her hand reaches up her face noting sweat had begun to appear. She takes in the fact that Hermione and Ron have their fingers inches apart and she briefly wonders if they fell asleep holding hands. The thought alone make her feel lonely, but she ignores it and stands up. Harry is not in her view which considerably means he is awake and wandering around the house. Right? She stares down at his sleeping bag and nods her head in agreement.

             Making sure her steps are quiet, she gently paces around the house and glances around with interest having never been there before. Her attention diverts to the family tree of the Black family and notices a few holes being inverted in some of them. In one she can barely make out "Sirius' except his face is no longer there. Beside his wretched name is another. Regulus. There is a young portrait of him on the wall and she lets her hand trail to it. Something about the name always interested her for some reason and she had been slightly surprise to find out that Sirius's brother had been that. From the little that she has heard, he used to be a Death Eater before he 'chickened out'. Doesn't that mean he changed his opinion? That he never wanted to be apart of it? Or did he just turn out to be some coward?

             Her eyes shift downwards and they raise slightly upon noticing Draco Malfoy. Right. Narcissa Malfoy used to be Narcissa Black. The sister of Bellatrix who is crazily insane as her aunt and equally obsessed with their Dark Lord. Spencer knows that already, she does. However, Malfoy's mother did not strike her as insane as her sister. The woman appears caring and thoughtful about others— or perhaps that is just the love for her son. Either way, no matter the fact that she probably views muggles the same way (except slightly less vile), Spencer still prefers her over her own family. The Montagues are a pureblooded family, but the ones that came out with a love for the Dark Arts is quite literally her own. How did Daniel and her even surpass the darkness?

             Sometimes, Spencer feels like she has not.

             She shakes her head to get rid of the thoughts and continues walking around. Somehow, Spencer finds herself on top of the stairs staring curiously at the door ahead of her. A sign is written right on front which deems her as a supposed 'threat' without consequence. Her eyes wander to the letters and she raises an eyebrow.

Do Not Enter
Without the Express Permission of
Regulus Arcturus Black

             Regulus Arcturus Black. Regulus. Artcurus. Black. Rab. RAB! Her own eyes widen with excitement and she stares at it with a frozen stare for a couple of seconds before she yells, "Harry! Harry, come!" Spencer knows he is awake and it does not surprise her when she hears sprinting close to her until a familiar dark-haired and green-eyed boy makes an appearance.

             Harry appears absolutely breathless and his wand is out as if he expected her to have been attacked. She hears more footsteps heading their way because of her actions, but she does not bother to care as she grabs his arm and pulls him right beside her. Harry sighs tiredly before staring at the front in confusion. Slowly, his own eyes start to widen in realization.

             "Regulus Arcturus Black!" He gasps out. Spencer nods excitedly and leans forward when Harry takes out the letter that had been in with the fake Horcrux. She stares at the old door with a new set of realization. Sirius's brother made a choice... and he died for it, the dots are connected, half a smile on her lips. Harry calls out for Hermione, but it does not matter as the two other Gryffindors and Ravenclaw make their way toward them already.

             "What's the matter?" Ron questions, his wand being hold out defensively in front of Hermione.

             Harry brings them closer and points to the sign. "R.A.B. I think Spencer found him."

             Hermione's gasp is heard and she whispers, "Sirius's brother?"

             "He was a Death Eater," Harry nods, "Sirius told me about him, he joined up when he was really young and then got cold feet and tried to leave — so they killed him."

             The story changes up a bit, but it still fits. Spencer touches the doorknob hesitantly and then tries to open the door. However, it is locked. A frown reaches her lips before waiting for the rest of them to finish their conversation.

             "That fits!" gasps Hermione. "If he was a Death Eater he had access to Voldemort, and if he became disenchanted, then he would have wanted to bring Voldemort down!"

             Ron widens his eyes in disbelief and points to the door. "The locket — you don't reckon — ?"

             "Let's find out," Ricky offers. He points his wand at the handle and casts, "Alohomora." There is a small click, and the door swings open.

             All five of them move over the threshold together, gazing around. Regulus's bedroom is slightly smaller than what Spencer expected. Whereas Sirius had sought to advertise his difference from the rest of the family, Regulus had striven to emphasize the opposite. The Slytherin colors of emerald and silver are everywhere, draping the bed, the walls, and the windows. The Black family crest is painstakingly painted over the bed, along with its motto, Toujours Pur. Beneath this is a collection of yellow newspaper cuttings, all stuck together to make a ragged collage. Though, the collages are destroyed and has 'X' marked all over it.

             Spencer figures he truly had been enamored with the idea of Voldemort before facing the cold harsh truth. She is not the only one to notice. Beside the collage is a photograph that has two boys with a woman and a man. Spencer is quick to figure that this must be the Black family. She picks up gently and analyzes how old tears are splattered on it making the photograph slightly crumble. She raises an eyebrow curiously noticing how Sirius manages to be in it. Every other one he has does not. Spencer does not know the Black brothers, but something tells her that despite everything that occurred between them, Regulus loved Sirius deeply.

             Her attention diverts to Harry and notices him staring at a photograph. She heads his way and examines the picture. It is of the Slytherin Quidditch team at Hogwarts, all the players smiling and waving out of the frame. Regulus Black is instantly recognizable as he is sitting in the middle with the same dark hair and haughty look of his brother. Smaller, thinner, and still somehow handsome. Spencer widens her eyes and takes a small step back with embarrassment. Did she just call a dead man handsome? Her eyes wander back to the photograph. Well, it is not a lie. What is up with her liking Slytherins? Then again... she only is in l— love? Her stomach gives her another twitch of pain and she hates it. Merlin, she hates this feeling of being apart from everyone else. Even miles apart the only thing in her head is Blaise, Blaise, Blaise.

             "He played Seeker," Harry whispers to her knowingly. Spencer takes a look back at the picture and nods her head in agreement. It is common knowledge that the Seeker sits in the middle of the front row. However, she glances away while she continues staring around at the room. Would the locket be here? The answer is probably. However, with Regulus being a Slytherin she has no doubt that the young man had been smart enough to leave it protected. Or perhaps sent to get destroyed. She does not know.

             The drawers' contents have been turned over recently, the dust disturbed, but there is nothing of value there: old quills, out-of-date textbooks that bore evidence of being roughly handled, a recently smashed ink bottle, its sticky residue covering the contents of the drawer. Spencer spots Harry accidentally touching the ink and his look of disgust.

             "There's an easier way," Hermione mutters, as Harry wipes his inky fingers on his jeans. She raises her wand, "Accio Locket!"

             Nothing happens. Ron, who had been searching the folds of the faded curtains, looks disappointed. No one else seem to be enthusiastic either. Spencer is not surprised. "I don't think Regulus would leave it unprotected. At least, not in a way that it can easily be taken away from his hands," Spencer inputs in thoughtfully.

             Hermione nods her head in agreement. "Charms to prevent it being summoned magically," she murmurs to herself mostly.

             "How are we supposed to find it then?" asks Ron. Ricky makes a face of dread knowing what is coming next. Hermione's words do not surprise any of them, but still they grimace at the thought.

             "We search manually," Hermione answers. And so, all five of them looked every inch of the room for more than an hour. Spencer seriously could not help the guilt of searching through a dead man's stuff, but she forces herself to continue. And yet, nothing is found by any of them concluding the idea that the locket is not there. Then again, the room had already been searched for... who is to say someone else has not got it already?

             Ricky finds his way beside Spencer and holds his arms together. "This place does not talk but I hear it calling me 'mudblood'," he shudders, a look of discomfort clearly plastered on his face. Spencer furrows her brows and stops in her place. There is no doubt that he is alright with everything that is going on. A muggleborn who fears for his family and his own safety... living in a moment of pure tension not knowing what will happen. The Ministry completed taken over by Death Eaters and everyone else having no clue what to expect of it.

             "You can always go back," Spencer tells him softly, her hand gently placing itself on his. She used to want him to stick by her side forever. Ricky Adams and Spencer Montague. Two Ravenclaws that love each other dearly. Although, she does still love him the same and if not more, Spencer would not know what to do if he got hurt. If he follows her through this path and... and dies. Perhaps staying with his family would be the best.

             "No," Ricky scoffs. He shakes his head roughly and squeezes his hand with hers. "I'm not leaving you. I don't want to leave you."

             Although, those words warm her heart in ways she does not deem possible, Spencer knows this adventure they are willing to take is about to make them realize exactly what kind of person they are under distress. She hopes that the both of them still keep that same energy when it comes. Her attention returns to Hermione as she continues rambling on about something before a dumbstruck look fell on her face.

             She is not the only one to notice as Ron calmly takes a few steps forward and questioningly asks, "Something wrong?"

             "There was a locket," she begins in realization. "In the cabinet in the drawing room. Nobody could open it. And we...we..."

             Spencer purses her lips having no utter clue on what Hermione is on about. She raises an eyebrow curiously and shares a similar confused expression with Ricky. Harry and Ron seem to understand quick enough by the way their faces pale as if they are sick.

             "Kreacher nicked loads of things back from us," Harry starts off with a lost tone. Spencer recognizes the house-elf name from back at Hogwarts when Dobby greeted the two of them. Not particularly an uplifting elf like Dobby is so she did not really communicate much with him like she had done with Winky and a few others. "He had a whole stash of stuff in his cupboard in the kitchen. C'mon."

             Harry runs down the stairs taking two steps at a time, the other four thundering along in his wake. They make so much noise that they wake the portrait of Sirius's mother as they pass through the hall.

             "Filth! Mudbloods! Scum!" she screams after them as they dash down into the basement kitchen and slam the door behind them. At least, not before Ricky flinches at the name-calling. Oh, how Spencer dearly wants to rip that portrait into pieces. Except she does not as she continues following behind Harry as he runs the length of the room, skids to a halt at the door of Kreacher's cupboard, and then wretches it open.

             There is a nest of dirty old blankets where Spencer assumes Kreacher slept, but they are no longer glittering with the trinkets Kreacher had salvaged. The only thing there is an old copy of Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy. Refusing to believe his eyes, Harry snatches up the blankets and shakes them. A dead mouse falls out and rolls dismally across the floor (Spencer squeals in disgust). Ron groans as he throws himself into a kitchen chair; Hermione closes her eyes.

             "It's not over yet," Harry assures strongly. Spencer gives him a look. It seems pretty over at the moment, she connects. And then, he raises his voice and calls, "Kreacher!"

             There is a loud crack and the house-elf that Harry had so reluctantly inherited from Sirius appears out of nowhere in front of the cold and empty fireplace: tiny, half human-sized, his pale skin hanging off him in folds, white hair sprouting copiously from his bat-like ears. He is still wearing the filthy rag from when she first met him, and the contemptuous look he bent upon Harry shows that his attitude to his change of ownership alters no more than his outfit.

             "Master," croaks Kreacher in his bullfrog's voice, and he bows low, muttering to his knees, "back in my Mistress's old house with the blood-traitor Weasley, the Mudbloods—"

             "I forbid you to call anyone 'blood traitor' or 'Mudblood,'" growls Harry. Spencer crosses her arms across her chest and stares down at the elf with slight interest.

             "I've got a question for you," Harry continues, his heart appearing as if it is beating rather fast as he looks down at the elf, "and I order you to answer it truthfully. Understand?"

             "Yes, Master," Kreacher mutters, bowing low again: Spencer notices his lips moving soundlessly, undoubtedly framing the insults he is now forbidden to utter. She cannot help but pity the elf. They are not born prejudice or cruel... they are made out that way by the owners.

             "Two years ago," Harry starts, "there was a big gold locket in the drawing room upstairs. We threw it out. Did you steal it back?"

             There is a moment's silence, during which Kreacher straightened up to look Harry full in the face. Then he answers, "Yes."

             "Where is it now?" asks Harry jubilantly as Ron and Hermione looked gleeful. Spencer and Ricky widen their eyes in surprise and leans in closer to the two of them. Though, it begins to slowly disappear as Kreacher closes his eyes as though he could not bear to see their reactions to his next word.

             "Gone."

             There it is, Spencer sighs, letting out a sigh of defeat.

             "Gone?" echoes Harry, elation flooding out of him. "What do you mean, it's gone?"

             The elf shivers as though he cannot believe what happened. It is obvious Kreacher feels regret for not taking good care of the necklace. Spencer shifts uncomfortably while staring at Harry to continue.

             "Kreacher," says Harry fiercely, "I order you —"

             "Mundungus Fletcher," croaks the elf, his eyes still tight shut. "Mundungus Fletcher stole it all: Miss Bella's and Miss Cissy's pictures, my Mistress's gloves, the Order of Merlin, First Class, the goblets with the family crest, and — and —" Kreacher is gulping for air: His hollow chest is rising and falling rapidly, then his eyes flies open and he utters a bloodcurdling scream. "— and the locket, Master Regulus's locket, Kreacher did wrong, Kreacher failed in his orders!"

             Harry reacts instinctively: As Kreacher lunges for the poker standing in the grate, he launches himself upon the elf, flatten- ing him. Hermione's scream mingles with Kreacher's, but Harry bellows louder than both of them: "Kreacher, I order you to stay still!"

             Spencer has her own eyes completely wide while she stands by the side. The elf had almost committed some type of suicide clearly from an order of his old master. Of Regulus Black. Although, she makes a different face when realizing the name he uttered. Mundungus Fletcher. The man that cowardly fled and practically cause Mad-Eye's death. He is the one who stole the necklace. While Spencer cannot blame him for fleeing from his spot since she knows he fear greatly, she can for the fact that he stole one of the items to destroy Voldemort.

             Harry releases the elf and Kreacher lies flat on the cold stone floor, tears gushing from his sagging eyes. "Right, Kreacher, I want the truth: How do you know Mundungus Fletcher stole the locket?"

             "Kreacher saw him!" gasp: the elf as tears pour/ over his snout and into his mouth full of graying teeth. Ricky groans in disgust and slightly steps back. "Kreacher saw him coming out of Kreacher's cupboard with his hands full of Kreacher's treasures. Kreacher told the sneak thief to stop, but Mundungus Fletcher laughed and r-ran..."

             Yeah, fuck Mundungus, Spencer rolls her eyes internally.

             "You called the locket 'Master Regulus's,'" Harry recalls. "Why? Where did it come from? What did Regulus have to do with it? Kreacher, sit up and tell me everything you know about that locket, and everything Regulus had to do with it!"

             "Maybe we should be kinder..." Spencer trails off noticing the tension on Harry's shoulder and how Kreacher is practically shaking and sobbing all at once. The elf sits up, curls into a ball, places his wet face between his knees, and begins to rock backward and forward. When he speaks again, his voice is muffled but quite distinct in the silent, echoing kitchen.

             "Master Sirius ran away, good riddance, for he was a bad boy and broke my Mistress's heart with his lawless ways. But Master Regulus had proper pride; he knew what was due to the name of Black and the dignity of his pure blood, I do not understand why he would call out for Master Sirius at night. For years Mistress talked of the Dark Lord and how Master Regulus will make her proud to join the Dark Lord who was going to bring the wizards out of hiding to rule the Muggles and the Muggle-borns... and when he was sixteen years old, Master Regulus joined the Dark Lord. Mistress was so proud of him... so proud..." Kreacher begins his story, trailing off a few times. Spencer raises her eyebrows noticing that he never specified that Regulus had been glad to join the Death Eaters. Only that his mother was.

             "And one day, a year after he had joined, Master Regulus came down to the kitchen to see Kreacher. Master Regulus always liked Kreacher. And Master Regulus said...he said..." The old elf rocks faster than ever. "...he said that the Dark Lord required an elf."

             "Voldemort needed an elf?" Harry repeats, looking around at Ron, Spencer, Ricky and Hermione. She figures everyone else is just as puzzled as she is.

             "Oh yes," moans Kreacher. "And Master Regulus had volunteered Kreacher. It was an honor for Kreacher, who must be sure to do whatever the Dark Lord ordered him to do... and then to c-come home."

             Kreacher rocks still faster, his breath coming in sobs. "So Kreacher went to the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord did not tell Kreacher what they were to do, but took Kreacher with him to a cave beside the sea. And beyond the cave there was a cavern, and in the cavern was a great black lake..."

             Spencer furrows her brows in confusion. A great black lake? She glances at Harry and notices a familiar look on his face as if he knows what Kreacher is on about. "...There was a boat...There was a b-basin full of potion on the island. The D-Dark Lord made Kreacher drink it..."

             The elf quakes from head to foot. "Kreacher drank, and as he drank, he saw terrible things...Kreacher's insides burned...Kreacher cried for Master Regulus to save him, he cried for his Mistress Black, but the Dark Lord only laughed...He made Kreacher drink all the potion...He dropped a locket into the empty basin...He filled it with more potion. And then the Dark Lord sailed away, leaving Kreacher on the island..." Kreacher continues explaining through the tears that falls. Spencer frowns at how horrid the experience must have been. A poor elf who even adores the Dark Lord being used as nothing but a mere puppet. Voldemort truly does not care about his followers but of the power that he gains from it. A cruel evil wizard who is trying to be immortal. She can imagine his white, snake-luke face with those red eyes... the fascination with watching an elf slowly crumble away. Spencer memorizes Voldemort's face more than she does her own. It always stares at her during her restless nights and in the darkest times of her mind.

             "Kreacher needed water, he crawled to the island's edge and he drank from the black lake...and hands, dead hands, came out of the water and dragged Kreacher under the surface..." the elf continues. Spencer knows what he is talking about. Snape taught it during the beginning of the year. Inferi. Horrid, zombie-like creatures rising from the dead to attack others.

             "How did you get away?" Harry asks barely above a whisper. Kreacher raises his head and looks at Harry with his great, bloodshot eyes.

             Spencer realizes right away. "Regulus told you to come back, didn't he?" She speaks softly to the elf, bending down slightly while staring at the elf. Kreacher stares at her with suspicion at how close she had gotten, but only until his eyes shift with recognition. Then, he nods in agreement. "Master Regulus told Kreacher to come back," he repeats.

             Harry blinks and stares at the two of them in confusion. "No, yeah, but how did you—"

             Ron gapes at the elf. "Well, it's obvious, isn't it, Harry?He Disapparated!" Spencer motions to the redhead agreeing with his words.

             "But... you couldn't Apparate in and out of that cave," Harry responds, "otherwise Dumbledore —"

             "Elf magic isn't like wizard's magic, is it?" Ron reminds him. "I mean, they can Apparate and Disapparate in and out of Hogwarts when we can't."

             There is silence while Harry digests this by the looks of it. Hermione speaks, her voice icy, "Of course, Voldemort would have considered the ways of house- elves far beneath his notice, just like all the purebloods who treat them like animals...It would never have occurred to him that they might have magic that he didn't."

             "The house-elf's highest law is his Master's bidding," intones Kreacher. "Kreacher was told to come home, so Kreacher came home..."

             "Well, then, you did what you were told, didn't you?" Hermione comforts him kindly. "You didn't disobey orders at all!"

             "Yeah, Kreacher. I'm sure Regulus is proud of you," Spencer comments softly. There is no excuse for how horrid he is for having suck prejudice thoughts about muggles, muggleborns, and blood-traitors, but Spencer still cannot help but pity him. He is an elf accustom to these ideals and does not understand why his master, who truly loved him and perhaps even died for him, did these things. Kreacher sniffles and continues shaking about, however, he does allow for the young Montague to slightly place her hand on his arm as a comfort (of course, he flinched, but he did not retract back).

             "So what happened when you got back?" Harry questions. "What did Regulus say when you told him what had happened?"

             "Master Regulus was very worried, very worried," croaks Kreacher. "Master Regulus told Kreacher to stay hidden and not to leave the house. And then...it was a little while laterźMaster Regulus came to find Kreacher in his cupboard one night, and Master Regulus was strange, not as he usually was, disturbed in his mind, Kreacher could tell...and he asked Kreacher to take him to the cave, the cave where Kreacher had gone with the Dark Lord..."

             And so they had set off. Spencer distinctly visualizes the image Kreacher describes as he continues telling his story. The frightened old elf and the thin, dark Seeker who had so resembled Sirius...Kreacher knew how to open the concealed entrance to the underground cavern, knew how to raise the tiny boat; this time it was his beloved Regulus who sailed with him to the island with its basin of poison...

             "And he made you drink the potion?" Harry interrupts clearly disgusted.

             Spencer grimaces and hopes that is not what happen. However, she let out a frown when Kreacher begins to shake his head and weeps. Oh, she realizes, Regulus did die for him and for that necklace to get rid of Voldemort. Hermione's hands leapt to her mouth: She seems to have understood as well.

             "M-Master Regulus took from his pocket a locket like the one the Dark Lord had," Kreacher cries, tears pouring down either side of his snoutlike nose. "And he told Kreacher to take it and, when the basin was empty, to switch the lockets..."

             Kreacher's sobs come in great rasps now. "And he ordered Kreacher to leave without him. And he told Kreacher — to go home — and never to tell my Mistress — what he had done — but to destroy — the first locket. And he drank — all the potion — and Kreacher swapped the lockets — and watched...as Master Regulus...was dragged beneath the water...and..."

             Spencer covers her own mouth in shock and pity. She does not cry as she did not know Regulus, but she feels the tremendous amount of grief for a young man who chose to change sides and died trying to right his wrongs.

             "Oh, Kreacher!" wails Hermione, who is crying. She drops to her knees beside the elf and tries to hug him. At once he is on his feet, cringing away from her, quite obviously repulsed.

             "The Mudblood touched Kreacher, he will not allow it, what would his Mistress say?" Kreacher gasps in horror, his tears long forgotten by how Hermione hugged him. Spencer's hand no longer is comforting him since Hermione heading toward him caused her to back off. So he does know she is a pureblood? How? Probably not of importance.

             "I told you not to call her 'Mudblood'!" snarls Harry, but the elf is already punishing himself: He falls to the ground and bangs his forehead on the floor.

             "Stop him — stop him!" Hermione cries. "Oh, don't you see now how sick it is, the way they've got to obey?"

             "Kreacher — stop, stop!" shouts Harry.

             Ricky turns a slightly pale color and stares away from them. It is obvious he feels pity for the elf, but also hurt how easily it says 'mudblood'.

             The elf lies on the floor, panting and shivering, green mucus glis- tening around his snout, a bruise already blooming on his pallid forehead where he had struck himself, his eyes swollen and bloodshot and swimming in tears.

             "So you brought the locket home," Harry clears his throat relentlessly, for he is determined to know the full story. "And you tried to destroy it?"

             "Nothing Kreacher did made any mark upon it," moans the elf. "Kreacher tried everything, everything he knew, but nothing, nothing would work...So many powerful spells upon the casing, Kreacher was sure the way to destroy it was to get inside it, but it would not open...Kreacher punished himself, he tried again, he punished himself, he tried again. Kreacher failed to obey orders, Kreacher could not destroy the locket! And his Mistress was mad with grief, because Master Regulus had disappeared, and Kreacher could not tell her what had happened, no, because Master Regulus had f-f-forbidden him to tell any of the f-f-family what happened in the c-cave..."

             Spencer wonders why he told them, but then she found the loophole to his words. Regulus forbade him to tell anyone of the family... Not friends or any other figure, but family. Which means Sirius died not knowing the real reason his brother passed away. Not because he was a coward and went on the run, but because he ambitiously went to take on Voldemort himself.

             Regulus Black did not die a coward nor with evilness in his heart.

             The young Montague hopes they can be able to finish his task once and for all. So he would not have died in vain, but rather as a way to help end it. Her thoughts return to Kreacher who begins to sob so hard that there are no more coherent words. Tears flowed down Hermione's cheeks as she watches Kreacher, but she does not dare touch him again. Even Ron, who seems like he is no fan of Kreacher's, looks troubled. Harry sits back on his heels and shakes his head, trying to clear it.

             "I don't understand you, Kreacher," Harry begins finally. "Voldemort tried to kill you, Regulus died to bring Voldemort down, but you were still happy to betray Sirius to Voldemort? You were happy to go to Narcissa and Bellatrix, and pass information to Voldemort through them..."

             "Harry, Kreacher doesn't think like that," Hermione defends him, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand. "He's a slave; house-elves are used to bad, even brutal treatment; what Voldemort did to Kreacher wasn't that far out of the common way. What do wizard wars mean to an elf like Kreacher? He's loyal to people who are kind to him, and Mrs. Black must have been, and Regulus certainly was, so he served them willingly and parroted their beliefs. I know what you're going to say," she went on as Harry begin to protest, "that Regulus changed his mind...but he doesn't seem to have explained that to Kreacher, does he? And I think I know why. Kreacher and Regulus's family were all safer if they kept to the old pure-blood line. Regulus was trying to protect them all."

             Although, Spencer does not think all house-elves are treated wrongly (she certainly knows many are), she cannot help but agree with Hermione on the last part.

             "Sirius —"

             "Sirius was horrible to Kreacher, Harry, and it's no good looking like that, you know it's true. Kreacher had been alone for a long time when Sirius came to live here, and he was probably starving for a bit of affection. I'm sure 'Miss Cissy' and 'Miss Bella' were perfectly lovely to Kreacher when he turned up, so he did them a favor and told them everything they wanted to know. I've said all along that wizards would pay for how they treat house-elves. Well, Voldemort did...and so did Sirius," Hermione argues back. Harry has no retort.

             Instead, he focuses back on the elf who continues sobbing like no other. "Kreacher," Harry calls after a while, "when you feel up to it, er...please sit up."

             Spencer smiles lightly knowing he realized what they meant. They wait for several minutes before Kreacher hiccups himself into silence. Then he pushes himself into a sitting position again, rubbing his knuckles into his eyes like a small child.

             "Kreacher, I am going to ask you to do something," Harry says slowly. He glances at Hermione and Spencer for assistance. Spencer nods her head encouragingly and motions for him to continue. Hermione smiles the same way. "Kreacher, I want you, please, to go and find Mundungus Fletcher. We need to find out where the locket — where Master Regulus's locket is. It's really important. We want to finish the work Master Regulus started, we want to — er — ensure that he didn't die in vain."

             Kreacher drops his fists and looks up at Harry. "Find Mundungus Fletcher?" he croaks.

             "And bring him here, to Grimmauld Place," Harry nods. "Do you think you could do that for us?"

             As Kreacher nods and tries to go to his feet, Spencer holds out her hand kindly. The elf glances at it a bit disturbed before slowly letting his oddly shape and smaller hand meet hers. Spencer helps him up and allows him to stay in front of Harry. Her friend pulls out Hagrid's purse and takes out the fake Horcrux, the substitute locket in which Regulus had placed the note to Voldemort.

             "Kreacher, I'd, er, like you to have this," he starts off slow, pressing the locket into the elf's hand. "This belonged to Regulus and I'm sure he'd want you to have it as a token of gratitude for what you —"

             "Overkill, mate," Ron grimaces as the elf takes one look at the locket, let out a howl of shock and misery, and throws himself back onto the ground.

             "Oh, let him be," Spencer shushes them up while Hermione nods in agreement. "He truly loved Regulus."

             It takes them nearly half an hour to calm down Kreacher, who is so overcome to be presented with a Black family heirloom for his very own that he is too weak at the knees to stand properly. When finally he is able to totter a few steps they all accompany him to his cupboard, watch him tuck up the locket safely in his dirty blankets, and assure him that they will make its protection their first priority while he is away.

             Kreacher rubs his groggy eyes and then gives two low bows to Harry and Ron. To Hermione and Ricky, he gives some lifts spasm as an attempt at a respectful salute before bowing down normally to Spencer. "Kreacher will come back, Master, and Miss Spencer Montague," the elf nods before Disapparating with the usual loud crack.

             Oh, Spencer nods with understanding, he recognizes my surname.

             And even then, she smiles with a sort of accomplishment in their hearts into finally getting a step further into finding the Horcruxes. Regulus Black may have not succeeded the first time, but she knows that in time... his last act will be completed.

             (Little do they know that it will take longer than what they wish for).

▂✫⌒*･ﾟ

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
honestly, i hated writing this chapter
because it hurt thinking about regulus 💔
and also because spencer didn't really do
much and it's so long ?? for what reason !!!

fuck it i published it 😐 this wasn't interesting
so tomorrow it'll be better... maybe. remus
informs them about what is happening 👀☕️

also, thank you for the birthday wishes !!! i
love you guys truly. it's also why im sorry for
this chapter 😭😭😭