#Kreacher's sus (but also kinda cute) lil den

[daughterofyourdarklord]

trick or treat 👻

Delphini lingers at the edge of the kitchen in 12 Grimmauld Place.

She's listening. 

The ringing had been bothering her for weeks now, every time she's back to their home in London she hears it. Almost like something is calling to her, beckoning. 

The ringing grew louder and louder until it was impossible for her to ignore, screaming like a banshee.

It isn't exactly strange. There have been several objects throughout the Black households that Delphini had felt a pull towards. Grandfather often explained that it was likely due to the connection between mother and daughter; that their estates were full of Bella's magic, the sheer force of it imprinted on various objects.

The young witch circles the kitchen, fingers nails tapping along the marble counters as she follows the ringing towards the pantry.

“Kreacher!” The elf appears beside her in a snap, a small broom in hand. 

“Yes, Mistress Delphini?” Kreacher starts with a smile, beady eyes look up at her adoringly. Delphi can hardly drag her gaze away from the small door across the pantry, her magic far too enchanted with whatever rests inside. 

“What have you got in there?” Her voice is high-pitched, curious.

Kreacher hesitates, either unsure what Delphini is asking or just reluctant to answer. 

“Mistress Delphi?”

“Open it.” She demands, arms crossing. “Now.” 

With a snap of the elf’s fingers the door creaks open. Delphini takes one large step forward, peeking into the dark cupboard curiously. There's a large array of rags neatly folded along the floor and a smaller piles of artifacts placed carefully beside it. Delphini falls to her knees, hands quickly reaching to search through the items. 

“Can Kreacher help Miss Delphini find something?” The elf seems nervous, as though she were about to reprimand him for his petty theft. Delphini doesn't answer, ripping through different objects in search of the ringing, of the pull. She tosses aside a pair of her great-Uncle’s cufflinks, a cup of silver branded with the Black family crest, a worn Slytherin tie, then comes the photographs. 

Her Uncle Orion and Grandfather look so alike in their younger days. If there were just a few less years between them they could almost pass for twins. There is a third Black in this picture that Delphini does not recognize, he covers both of their faces jokingly with each flash of the camera.  

Walburga and Lucretia stare up at her, each with an equally menacing glare before slowly glancing at each other and winking. 

She almost doesn’t recognize the Black sister’s at first, having thought the swaying image of her mother looking up at her was actually herself. Delphini pauses, leaning back on her heels to take in the photo with more interest.

Auntie Cissa looks so small, she’s sitting in the lap of the one girl that is unfamiliar to Delphini. She knows who she is, of course, has heard the story in all of the limited words Grandfather can manage. Andromeda is seated in a wooden chair, Narcissa propped and leaning to the side. Bellatrix stands behind them both, her arms draped around each of their shoulders protectively. Every few moments the two smaller sisters jerk and laugh as Bellatrix pinches their shoulders lightly before the three of them erupt into peals of laughter.  

“Look!” Kreacher offers, startling Delphini out of her stupor. “Mistress Bella and her baby!” He sounds genuinely eager as he thrusts another photograph in her hand. 

This photo appears to be in significantly better condition than those prior. It was certainly newer than the rest. Bellatrix leans back in a cushioned chair, clearly in the drawing room at Grimmauld. There is a small bundle in her arms. Delphini’s eyes burn for a moment. Mum is exactly as she remembers her before those awful wizard took her away. In the photo the new mother gives a tired smile to the camera before someone walks into the frame, ruining the photo. 

Delphini hums, rubbing at her eyes before putting all the photos back carefully. 

“Did Auntie know you saved all these spoilt photos, Kreacher?”

“I'm not sure, Miss.” Kreacher answers honestly. 

Delphini sighs, shaking her head lightly. She’d rifled through all the objects Kreacher had tucked into the corner... 

...She can still hear the ringing.  

Delphi turns away from the pile, leaning into Kreacher’s den deeper before glancing around the large boiler taking up the center. 

“Little Miss-” Kreacher starts but she already saw it. A gleam of silver, a small chain tucked away deep behind the base. Delphini doesn't even bother asking what it is. It shoots out from around the ruddy pipes with a snap of her finger, she's still too young to be allowed a wand but magic listens to her all the same. 

Everything goes quiet the minute the face of the jewelry falls into her slender hands. She can't hear the creaking of the pipes nor Kreacher’s nervous tutting, the ringing in her ears so powerful it's almost overwhelming. 

The corners of the pendant are inlaid with small snake heads, their silver bodies making up the framework for the locket, twirling together to create a sturdy clasp. Along the cover rests a beveled ‘S’ her fingers trace the emerald gemstones embedded along it so carefully. The ringing turns to whispering.

Oh, this isn't mother’s magic. Not at all.  

“Kreacher,” Delphini speaks sweetly. “Where did you get this?”