Chapter Ten: Kreacher's Tale
In which Harry has existential angst over a manipulative git, the Trio isn't up to full processing speed on a couple of fronts, and the sporker's inner Regulus brings the sarcasm to the party.
Before I get to the heart of this, a bit of an explanation. I signed up for this chapter because, as the cut text might indicate, I figured one of my RP characters might want to get in on the fun. I was expecting some of this to be me and some of it to be Regulus.
....But then he kinda took over from the word 'go.' I might have expected this from a sarcastic headvoice confronted with someone else's idea of his backstory. XD Anyway, I've had the characterisation in mind since May, and game circumstances have long since called for an AU. Some of the snark will reflect that, and some of it is a bit more general. With that in mind, I now return you to your regularly scheduled sporking.
***
Right. The author's opening volley this chapter is... Potter having an existential crisis over not knowing anything about Dumbledore's past. There are far better people upon whom to expend that amount of energy; Dumbledore had a distressing habit of only telling people things when he thought it would get them to do his dirty work for them. One would have thought the boy would know that after dealing with the man for six years, but evidently thinking is the first mistake in that equation.
Brushing the existential crisis aside for the moment, Potter commences with an exploration of the upper reaches of Grimmauld Place, starting with Sirius' old room. The boy "could only assume that Sirius's parents had been unable to remove the Permanent Sticking Charm that kept [the decorations] on the wall," without considering for a moment that my parents entering that room would have meant acknowledging their disinherited runaway son's existence. Better in their eyes to leave the distasteful decor untouched than enter and have to deal with a blood traitor's remnants.
As for the Muggle photos of scantily clad girls... well. Recent evidence, at least for my world and one or two very like it (that's a long story), suggests those are what is known as a front. Take that as you will.
Anyway, Potter's next stroke of brilliance is attempting to remove a photo of Sirius and his cohorts from the walls. This after speculating about the use of Permanent Sticking Charms. Here's a tip, Potter - if there's a Permanent Sticking Charm involved, odds are you'll have to cut out the wall attached to whatever you're trying to remove. (I don't see why no one seems to have applied that idea to Mother's portrait. Do they like torturing themselves every time those curtains open or something?)
(And now, a brief respite from the IC commentary, as a continuity thing just occurred to your typist: ...So how, precisely, did a letter from Lily, from the Godric's Hollow era, end up in Grimmauld Place? If I recall the family tree correctly, Mrs. Black was still alive at that point, so it can't have been delivered there. And there's no indication that Sirius would have been able to return to where he was living before his arrest and collect his stuff after the Order set up shop, assuming everything there hadn't been tossed out by someone else. Finally, if Snape were carrying it around for more than a decade, I don't see him dropping the first page and half a picture in that house.
Also, 'Wormy'? Epic fail at nicknames, Lily. Epic fail.)
Potter gets so caught up in rummaging about the place that his friends get to wondering where he's disappeared to. Granger, apparently in the running for Mistress of the Obvious, notes the rather untidy appearance of the house: "Did you make all this mess, or was some of it done when you got here?" Potter, despite his thought process earlier including knowledge that the house had been ransacked the year previously, wonders if it was someone looking for information.
...One moment, Potter, you know someone's filched valuables from the house, and you think it's been rummaged through in pursuit of information? Good God. (...Right, I've been spending too much time around Peter.)
Potter cues up his existential crisis over Dumbledore again, and Granger attempts to dissuade him from tarnishing his memories of the man. I, for one, can't blame the boy for trying to find out what he couldn't in person, even if his main source looks like it'll be nosy bints like Skeeter. Still, there are better places he could be directing all that energy.
Dealing with the war effort he's so concerned about springs to mind.
Granger suggests they go down for breakfast, but on the way, they're sidetracked by... my room. Lovely. Evidently, in this universe, I nicked a locket and signed off with my initials somewhere in the getaway; presumably this is that half-finished thing from Bella's list (or fully complete, for these kids). Anyway, Granger calls Weasley upstairs, and the three of them have a go at my room.
I should note, in terms of the decor, that I happen to like green, and did well before I got Sorted. The crest and motto were Mother's idea, as well as the one time I have seen her get decorative in my life; she came up with that after Sirius got Sorted, hoping it would help keep me from bucking tradition as well. She needn't have worried to the extent of committing art, really. My self-preservation instinct would have done the trick even without that. As for the collage... in my particular case, it doesn't exist, and if it did it would be another front. What Mother doesn't know won't kill me.
...Further, I do not play Quidditch. It's a sport where you get lead balls hit at you, and that is not very conducive to continued livelihood.
After taking in the decor, the trio start looking for this locket. Oh, yes, because I would keep a probably-cursed piece of jewelry in my bedroom. It would blend in better among Mother's collection, and she likely wouldn't even notice any ill effects. Between that and the fact that someone filched valuables, I'm not surprised they don't find it. (This is the great hope for the world Dumbledore settled on? I think I prefer taking on the matter much sooner.)
The trio decide Kreacher might still have the thing, and don't even think to procure breakfast for themselves before trying to wrangle the truth out of him. For another lack of surprise, it's been filched along with other valuables. And somehow, this leads to Kreacher discussing me.
First, I resent the implication that I would have signed on with the Death Eaters before I even left school. One never knows what opportunities might materialise in the meanwhile. Second, signing Kreacher up for a mission with Voldemort, no matter what the implications in the remainder of this chapter, would have been a fitting response to the forced polity at home. Yes, I said forced polity. Mother trusts him above all else, for some damned reason, so anything other than polite behaviour would bring down her wrath in a hurry.
In the middle of the story, Potter interrupts with a particularly scintillating insight: "But... you couldn't Apparate in and out of that cave, otherwise Dumbledore--" All this tells me is that Potter trusted Dumbledore's knowledge too much. He might have tried it for himself; even if he were underage at the time, he might have been able to qualify the attempt by being in the presence of an educational authority.
...One moment, Ms. Rowling, are you trying to call this event a suicide on my part? Here's a bit of news for you, in that case: I don't drink suspicious liquids left lying around in heavily guarded places. And I particularly wouldn't do it if Kreacher were on hand. Honestly. Further, in any circumstance where this ended in my death, Mother would only be upset about the house leaving the Black family name.
Granger, meanwhile, seems to think being nice is the key to getting house elves to cooperate. She's rather quick to hold Sirius' attitude against him, without considering the fact that being trapped in that house so long after thinking he'd got away for good, not to mention over a decade of more literal imprisonment, can't have done his natural charm any good. Other than that, I might give her theory a bit of credence... maybe... perhaps... if she found another test subject. Kreacher's nastiness is quite ingrained, all things considered.
Of course, the author seems to think that's all the more reason to use Kreacher as the test subject. Possibly it's meant to win the audience over, or the like. However, it doesn't really take, and leaves me with one question:
Who is this house elf and what have they done with Mother's spy?
Before I get to the heart of this, a bit of an explanation. I signed up for this chapter because, as the cut text might indicate, I figured one of my RP characters might want to get in on the fun. I was expecting some of this to be me and some of it to be Regulus.
....But then he kinda took over from the word 'go.' I might have expected this from a sarcastic headvoice confronted with someone else's idea of his backstory. XD Anyway, I've had the characterisation in mind since May, and game circumstances have long since called for an AU. Some of the snark will reflect that, and some of it is a bit more general. With that in mind, I now return you to your regularly scheduled sporking.
***
Right. The author's opening volley this chapter is... Potter having an existential crisis over not knowing anything about Dumbledore's past. There are far better people upon whom to expend that amount of energy; Dumbledore had a distressing habit of only telling people things when he thought it would get them to do his dirty work for them. One would have thought the boy would know that after dealing with the man for six years, but evidently thinking is the first mistake in that equation.
Brushing the existential crisis aside for the moment, Potter commences with an exploration of the upper reaches of Grimmauld Place, starting with Sirius' old room. The boy "could only assume that Sirius's parents had been unable to remove the Permanent Sticking Charm that kept [the decorations] on the wall," without considering for a moment that my parents entering that room would have meant acknowledging their disinherited runaway son's existence. Better in their eyes to leave the distasteful decor untouched than enter and have to deal with a blood traitor's remnants.
As for the Muggle photos of scantily clad girls... well. Recent evidence, at least for my world and one or two very like it (that's a long story), suggests those are what is known as a front. Take that as you will.
Anyway, Potter's next stroke of brilliance is attempting to remove a photo of Sirius and his cohorts from the walls. This after speculating about the use of Permanent Sticking Charms. Here's a tip, Potter - if there's a Permanent Sticking Charm involved, odds are you'll have to cut out the wall attached to whatever you're trying to remove. (I don't see why no one seems to have applied that idea to Mother's portrait. Do they like torturing themselves every time those curtains open or something?)
(And now, a brief respite from the IC commentary, as a continuity thing just occurred to your typist: ...So how, precisely, did a letter from Lily, from the Godric's Hollow era, end up in Grimmauld Place? If I recall the family tree correctly, Mrs. Black was still alive at that point, so it can't have been delivered there. And there's no indication that Sirius would have been able to return to where he was living before his arrest and collect his stuff after the Order set up shop, assuming everything there hadn't been tossed out by someone else. Finally, if Snape were carrying it around for more than a decade, I don't see him dropping the first page and half a picture in that house.
Also, 'Wormy'? Epic fail at nicknames, Lily. Epic fail.)
Potter gets so caught up in rummaging about the place that his friends get to wondering where he's disappeared to. Granger, apparently in the running for Mistress of the Obvious, notes the rather untidy appearance of the house: "Did you make all this mess, or was some of it done when you got here?" Potter, despite his thought process earlier including knowledge that the house had been ransacked the year previously, wonders if it was someone looking for information.
...One moment, Potter, you know someone's filched valuables from the house, and you think it's been rummaged through in pursuit of information? Good God. (...Right, I've been spending too much time around Peter.)
Potter cues up his existential crisis over Dumbledore again, and Granger attempts to dissuade him from tarnishing his memories of the man. I, for one, can't blame the boy for trying to find out what he couldn't in person, even if his main source looks like it'll be nosy bints like Skeeter. Still, there are better places he could be directing all that energy.
Dealing with the war effort he's so concerned about springs to mind.
Granger suggests they go down for breakfast, but on the way, they're sidetracked by... my room. Lovely. Evidently, in this universe, I nicked a locket and signed off with my initials somewhere in the getaway; presumably this is that half-finished thing from Bella's list (or fully complete, for these kids). Anyway, Granger calls Weasley upstairs, and the three of them have a go at my room.
I should note, in terms of the decor, that I happen to like green, and did well before I got Sorted. The crest and motto were Mother's idea, as well as the one time I have seen her get decorative in my life; she came up with that after Sirius got Sorted, hoping it would help keep me from bucking tradition as well. She needn't have worried to the extent of committing art, really. My self-preservation instinct would have done the trick even without that. As for the collage... in my particular case, it doesn't exist, and if it did it would be another front. What Mother doesn't know won't kill me.
...Further, I do not play Quidditch. It's a sport where you get lead balls hit at you, and that is not very conducive to continued livelihood.
After taking in the decor, the trio start looking for this locket. Oh, yes, because I would keep a probably-cursed piece of jewelry in my bedroom. It would blend in better among Mother's collection, and she likely wouldn't even notice any ill effects. Between that and the fact that someone filched valuables, I'm not surprised they don't find it. (This is the great hope for the world Dumbledore settled on? I think I prefer taking on the matter much sooner.)
The trio decide Kreacher might still have the thing, and don't even think to procure breakfast for themselves before trying to wrangle the truth out of him. For another lack of surprise, it's been filched along with other valuables. And somehow, this leads to Kreacher discussing me.
First, I resent the implication that I would have signed on with the Death Eaters before I even left school. One never knows what opportunities might materialise in the meanwhile. Second, signing Kreacher up for a mission with Voldemort, no matter what the implications in the remainder of this chapter, would have been a fitting response to the forced polity at home. Yes, I said forced polity. Mother trusts him above all else, for some damned reason, so anything other than polite behaviour would bring down her wrath in a hurry.
In the middle of the story, Potter interrupts with a particularly scintillating insight: "But... you couldn't Apparate in and out of that cave, otherwise Dumbledore--" All this tells me is that Potter trusted Dumbledore's knowledge too much. He might have tried it for himself; even if he were underage at the time, he might have been able to qualify the attempt by being in the presence of an educational authority.
...One moment, Ms. Rowling, are you trying to call this event a suicide on my part? Here's a bit of news for you, in that case: I don't drink suspicious liquids left lying around in heavily guarded places. And I particularly wouldn't do it if Kreacher were on hand. Honestly. Further, in any circumstance where this ended in my death, Mother would only be upset about the house leaving the Black family name.
Granger, meanwhile, seems to think being nice is the key to getting house elves to cooperate. She's rather quick to hold Sirius' attitude against him, without considering the fact that being trapped in that house so long after thinking he'd got away for good, not to mention over a decade of more literal imprisonment, can't have done his natural charm any good. Other than that, I might give her theory a bit of credence... maybe... perhaps... if she found another test subject. Kreacher's nastiness is quite ingrained, all things considered.
Of course, the author seems to think that's all the more reason to use Kreacher as the test subject. Possibly it's meant to win the audience over, or the like. However, it doesn't really take, and leaves me with one question:
Who is this house elf and what have they done with Mother's spy?