"Kreacher, isn't it? Stop right there," Orli said coldly, arms folded across her chest.
"Unknown little girl thinks she can order Kreacher around now..." Kreacher muttered, pretending not to hear as he continued shuffling toward the door.
"Stop! Damned creature!" Sirius bellowed, then whirled to face Orli. "What are you trying to do?"
Kreacher halted reluctantly at the threshold, pressing his head against the doorframe and affecting the posture of someone having a seizure.
"You can't command him like that. Your words are riddled with loopholes," Orli said, studying Kreacher with calculating eyes. "This deranged thing knows far too many Order secrets. He absolutely cannot be permitted to leave this house."
She approached Kreacher slowly and crouched down to meet his gaze. The elf's bulging gray eyes trembled.
"Kreacher." Her voice carried a razor's edge of danger. "When your master told you to 'get out' just now, what went through that twisted little mind of yours? Were you thinking you could exploit a loophole and escape this house?"
Kreacher's head jerked violently, and he fixed Orli with a look of pure hatred.
"Is that what you were thinking, Kreacher?!" Sirius roared.
"Wait—let's ask more questions first..." Orli continued with a cold smile. "Has your master given you similar orders before? You've already slipped out several times, haven't you?"
"Orli! He's ancient, you can't think like that—his mind is addled..." Hermione protested, defending Kreacher.
"His mind is perfectly sharp! Perhaps sharper than his current master's," Orli said, rising and stepping aside to give the enraged Sirius clear access. He lunged forward and delivered a vicious kick to Kreacher's ribs. Hermione shrieked.
"Kreacher, answer the question! Have you been exploiting loopholes in my words to sneak out?!"
Kreacher began trembling violently, twisting his arms until his joints cracked audibly:
"—the Azkaban convict ordering Kreacher about, oh! My poor Mistress, what would she say seeing this house now, filled with riffraff, her treasures cast aside..."
"Who are the surviving members of the Black family?" Orli sighed impatiently, providing the crucial hint.
Sirius seemed to wrestle with his fury for several heartbeats before managing to restrain his murderous impulses. He panted heavily: "Tonks's mother—she's my cousin. And Bellatrix, rotting in Azkaban, and... Narcissa. Narcissa Malfoy?!"
His eyes blazed with sudden understanding. He seized Kreacher by his filthy rag and stormed toward the stairs. Hermione opened her mouth as if to protest, but no words came.
"I knew that creature would be trouble eventually!" Ron said furiously.
"Enough, Ron. I'll go see what's happening," Orli said, shaking her head. "Dealing with house-elves like this..."
She left the sentence unfinished and headed downstairs, following the sound of Kreacher's wails. The others trailed behind, wearing expressions ranging from concern to grim satisfaction.
In the ground-floor hall, Sirius was dangling Kreacher by his rag like a sack of refuse, arguing heatedly with Lupin.
"We need to warn Dumbledore about the Malfoys immediately, then put this thing out of its misery!" Sirius snarled.
"You can't be certain yet, Sirius, and Dumbledore..." Lupin was attempting to reason with him but fell silent when he noticed Orli approaching.
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