Chapter Text
Kreacher's log, September 4th, 1996
‘Kreacher followed the man. He had a flowing white beard and darting eyes. Seen near hut of the half-giant. Walked with half-giant away from hut, both suspicious, always near the young children.’
He scribbled this down on the sock-shaped notepad of Dobby’s, the only one he could find as he dashed out of his lean-to, taking refuge there after Sirius had died. The Order had expelled him from his own home. He sighed, though he kept a close eye on the two figures in front of him, muttering obscenities under his breath.
‘Kreacher has observed the moral decay of the wizarding society. Elf society even harmed as well, though not reaching the depravity. Wizard and Half-Giant are agents of that illness. Kreacher’ll keep following to stop this, burn it out at the root.’
Dobby and Winky, hands interlocked, ran through the surrounding forests of Malfoy Manor. There must have been curses places on the branches, as they kept whipping the already-gnarled back of Dobby as they made their way deeper into the thicket. “Ow!” Dobby cried, looking around frantically, “Winky, Dobby thinks we might be lost in this forest, it keeps getting darker... Dobby thinks we might need to go back.”
Winky scowled, realizing her chances at escape might just be slipping away, “Winky has decided, if Dobby leaves, she is not following.” Dobby halted, dead in his tracks he stared at Winky, tears starting to well up in his eyes. “But, Dobby will die out here if Winky leaves him. I don’t want to die!” he exclaimed, conveniently forgetting his earlier suicide-by-Malfoy attempt. Winky rolled her eyes, gripped his hand tighter and continued to trudge into the dense forest.
Draco, gripping his injured hand and battered chest, looked around at the scene that unfolded while he was unconscious. Winky and Dobby were no-where to be seen, tiny webbed tracks leading outside of the gate were dotted in front of him. The doors to the manor were wide open, pitch-dark indents speckled the walls and floor of the manor, indicating a possible struggle.
He lurched over, pushed himself up from the ground and stumbled as he gathered his footing. Cursing the elves, he entered the manor’s main doors, noting the serpent-headed wand of his father’s lying on the ground. Brushing past this, he peered around the corner into the parlor, where his mother was standing.
She was hunched over a silver-haired figure, that was seemingly tied to a chair in the middle of the room. As he got closer, he recognized this as his father, noticing his badly damaged hand. Heel marks were marked into the flesh, the surrounding area bloating up into a deep purple, dried blood caked the surface. Immediately he spoke up, "Mother, what's the meaning of this?!" Narcissa spun around, surprised by him, though quickly returning to a relaxed state, "Oh Draco, sweetie. I'm glad you're awake. Your father here decided to have relations with another woman, and not only that, that mudblood slag Granger. You get to witness the after-effect." She said this with a hint of glee in her voice, staring at Draco directly before adverted her gaze to look at the comatose Lucius.
Draco looked alarmed, clearing his throat he spoke up, "Mother, I have something to tell you..."
‘Kreacher has gone back to his hideout. The perverse sorcerers took a child with them on their journey, will not allow this indecency to continue. Kreacher’ll not stand for this, what’s wrong must be fought.’
Kreacher grabbed his mask and fire-arm, nothing the feel of the silverlight, never having had to use it before. He bounced back on his heels after setting the magazine into the well, clicking into place with an audible ‘clank!’. Fitting the over-sized mask on to his head, he pulled it down and set off, after Hagrid and Dumbledore.
‘Kreacher followed the agents, ending soon.’
He dropped the log into the back pocket of the only pants he owned, a pair tailored for him when Sirius was still alive. “Sirius”, the name stirred on his tongue, the man having caused Kreacher’s propensity for extinguishing abuse, though until now it was only in his mind and planning stages. Pulling the silverlight from his pocket, he stood watching over the Wizard and his Half-Giant co-conspirator settle down on a hill, commanding a view over a nearby forest in what was seemingly the middle of nowhere.
Dobby and Winky, thoroughly marred from the scourging lashes, started to see a light emerging from the darkness of the greenwood. They both looked at each other, eyes aflame with hope and joy, and giddily ran to the light. Tripping occasionally, no matter was paid to the branches anymore, the luminescent grew in size, and gleamed onto their face, as they bursted out of the forest.
Looking around they recognized a set of figures nearby, hoping to get help from the oppressive Malfoys, they ran to them. Reaching the top of the foothill, out of breath they decided to rest shortly before approaching the figures. Sitting down behind a bush, Dobby looked back at them, noticing quickly to the right an unmistakable sight, the pants of Kreacher.
Running out, leaving Winky behind wheezing and discreetly sipping on a flask, he started to shout, “Kreacher! Dobby is pleased to see you!" noticing the firearm, "w-what are you doing with that?" Motioning over to the silverlight, Kreacher suddenly flicked his head in their direction and back at the vulgar figures, he nodded with his mask-laden face towards them.
All three persons turned around, facing the house-elves in unison staring back at them.