Chapter 3: Back to work Kreacher

The wards flared, and he knew that Snivellus would no longer be allowed in the house. Neither would the Mundungus. That was too bad; Sirius liked him. Maybe if he could get him to take a vow to keep his sticky fingers to himself…

Bringing himself back to the task at hand, he felt that Fidelius was now his and he was the Secret Keeper. Dumbledore would not be happy, but he didn't care what that old man thought right now. Trying to keep Harry and him prisoners didn't make Sirius like him all that much. Oh, he respected him and would listen to him about some things, but he didn't like him.

Sirius was tickled that the wards stung Molly but didn't evict her. She had no ill intent; she was just being her overbearing self. She would find, however, that every time she so much as thought Sirius was wrong, she would get pricked again. It was petty, he knew, but it felt good at the same time. However, if she escalated her demands, then the wards might just throw her out, without warning.

Sirius hoped not, he liked the rest of her family, though he didn't trust them. Ron was a bit of a jealous boy. Ginny was always going on about how Harry was the only boy for her. And the twins, while good kids, did tend to be sneaky enough to try and gain the knowledge he preferred they left alone. Hermione was a bit bossy, but she did look up to most adults and was mollified when told she couldn't do something. As long as it wasn't Sirius to tell her. While she did listen to him, it was reluctantly.

He stopped his mind from drifting again, Azkaban did a number on his concentration, and he needed to finish what he started. "All servants of the House of Black are called to me this very minute to retake their vows of obedience, that they may be strong and serve the House of Black to their fullest," he said in a demanding voice, his hand still on the pedestal, though the bleeding stopped, it was taking his magic.

Kreacher popped into the room, looking as if he had fought the magic the entire way. "Blood-traitor Master calls poor old Kreacher? Kreacher is not wanting to serve this Master, but Kreacher must be obeying the call of magic," the wretched creature spoke, his long-crooked nose almost touching the floor as he bowed to the man he despised.

Sirius ignored him and finished the ritual, "Everything I have spoken will remain until I say otherwise, or the next Black is called. So mote it be."

With great relief, he took his injured hand off the pedestal. He watched as the wound healed, it was then he noted the House Ring on his right hand. He was tired, that took a lot out of him, but he felt his magic start to come back, so he turned to the house elf groveling on the floor.

In a way, he felt pity for the wretched creature. The house elf had lived his whole life to serve the House of Black. Now, that same devotion was being used to make him serve a master he hated.

"Kreacher, you have one choice" he said firmly, making the elf look up at him. "You will serve, or you will die. Your head will not go on the wall, and you will not be remembered as a devoted servant. You will die here in this room, and your body will be banished. Decide!" he ordered; his tone full of power, demanding to be obeyed.

Kreacher was in a quandary—he lived to serve the House of Black, but he reviled this man in front of him with a burning passion. He needed to complete the task set to him by Master Regulus—he was ordered to, and Kreacher did not want to disobey the last order of his beloved Master. Shaking his head back and forth with indecision, he felt his mind nearly snap. He had been too long by himself and, though he wasn't free, he had not served in years. Would he feel better doing what he was supposed to do and serve the House of Black like he had in times past? Was it possible to serve the blood-traitor?

Two minutes passed and neither of the occupants of the room moved from their spot. The house elf's only movement was the head shaking. Kreacher finally looked up and said, "Kreacher will serve the House of Black again. Kreacher lives to serve." He once more bowed and his voice was much more stable.

"Then I hereby claim the house elf Kreacher to be loyal to the House of Black until the day he dies. May he live on the magic of the house he serves," Sirius incanted, putting his hand on the dirty elf's head. There was a blue glow around both of them and then Sirius stood back.

Kreacher was renewed. Though he was still old and didn't change much on the outside, his magic got a boost from the wards, and he felt invigorated. He was no longer as stooped, and his wrinkles lessened.

"Kreacher, you will clean this house," Sirius said, this time softly. He knew what it took for the old elf to make this decision, so he'd meet Kreacher halfway. "Start with the rooms that are used the most and clean a room for my godson. Regulus's room will be best. Take all of Regulus's things and store them in the attic."

"Yes, Master," Kreacher said as he stood.

"Then start taking all the dark objects and put them in a chest, put it in my room," the master added as an afterthought. "And I mean all the dark objects. You will not hide anything. You are my elf now, and you will obey me to the fullest," Sirius ordered. He would send it all to the Department of Mysteries and they could deal with them. He didn't think it was safe to just throw them away, who knew what innocent person could pick them out of the bins.

"Kreacher hears and obeys." With that, the transformed elf popped out of the room.

Still standing in the room of power, he started thinking on what he could do to help this war effort. Stripping Bellatrix of her magic and money was a good start, but what else could he do? He wanted Andromeda and her husband to come and stay here for protection, no matter who protested. He'd ask Tonks to give Andromeda a message with the secret so that she could come if she wanted. Narcissa could take care of herself