"Hermione, if we allow Kreacher to maintain contact with Malfoy Manor, have you considered the potential consequences?" Orli was always particularly patient with Hermione—she was the most brilliant girl she'd ever encountered.
"But he hasn't leaked anything..." Hermione began, but Orli cut her off.
"Picture this: old Kreacher, devoted to dark wizards, encounters Voldemort at Malfoy Manor one day, and Voldemort realizes this house-elf has direct access to Harry..." Orli said with ominous quiet.
"I should just kill him..." Sirius snarled.
"That's pure speculation!" Hermione shook her head vehemently.
"Kreacher!" Orli barked sharply. "Have you ever served Death Eaters?!"
Kreacher trembled and shrank into himself, remaining silent.
"Of course he's served Death Eaters—more than one," Sirius said with bitter scorn. "My parents, most of my relatives, my deranged cousin, and my foolish younger brother."
Kreacher shot Sirius a venomous glare but still dared not speak.
"You're joking!" Harry said incredulously.
"Come off it, Harry. Hasn't this house made it abundantly clear what sort of wizards the Blacks are?" Sirius said with irritation.
"You have a brother?" Ron's eyes widened.
"Yeah. Had one," Sirius replied with a bitter smile, raking fingers through his tangled hair. "My parents were pure-blood supremacist lunatics. They believed Voldemort's ideology—supported purifying wizarding bloodlines, thought it was the noble path. When Voldemort held power, they even donated gold to his cause. My idiot brother was stupid enough to swallow their propaganda. That's him there."
He pointed toward a tapestry in the corridor. At the bottom of that massive family tree was inscribed "Regulus Black." A death date followed his birth year.
"He's dead?!" Harry gasped. "He only lived to his teens?!"
"Yeah. Younger than me," Sirius said, "and a far better son, by their standards. I think about him often. But I'd wager Regulus joined the Death Eaters at fifteen. My parents considered him their shining little hero."
"Was he killed by Aurors?" Ron asked cautiously.
"Oh, no," Sirius said darkly. "I strongly suspect Voldemort killed him. From what I've pieced together since his death, he got in too deep, then refused orders and tried to leave the Death Eaters... But you don't simply submit a resignation letter to Voldemort. It's lifelong service or death."
"Dear God." Mrs. Weasley pressed her hand to her mouth, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Poor child... poor boy... he wanted out..."
Melancholy settled over the group like a shroud. Many felt genuine sorrow for Regulus's truncated life.
Suddenly, a tremendous clatter echoed from around the corridor bend. Lupin reappeared moments later, dragging Kreacher by one spindly arm.
Clearly, Kreacher had broken free from his restraints and attempted to slink away unnoticed.
"Where exactly were you skulking off to?!" Sirius's fury reignited. "You filthy, wretched—"
"Right, let's return to the matter at hand," Orli interrupted smoothly. "I know you've never regarded house-elves as intelligent, sentient beings, but if you truly want to know how Regulus died, why not ask Kreacher?"
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