When everyone was distracted once more, Harry quickly stood from the table and rushed out of the kitchen and back to his bedroom. Never again, never again, never again…He kept thinking over and over in his head. No feeding from friends and family, nope, never again.
The guilt was eating him alive as he crashed onto his bed and buried his face in his pillow. The even worse part of it all was he was still hungry. He'd never been hungry before since he was changed, but he'd never been around happy people either. The Dursleys were all bad feelings and irritation.
After feeding the little that he had, Harry could still feel everyone in the house in the back of his mind and what their emotion currently was at the time. From where his head was buried in his pillow, Harry could tell that Sirius was still a little weirded out, Mrs. Weasley was feeling stressed, the twins were both excited, Ron was tired, Mr. Weasley was peaceful, Hermione was a little concerned (probably about him), Ginny was curious about something, Remus was feeling mischievous, and Snape was annoyed and more than a little stressed. "Why?!" He yelled into his pillow. "I can't do this!"
"May I ask what it is you feel you can't do?" A voice drawled from the other side of the room.
Harry shot up in the bed, his glasses askew. He'd forgotten about the portrait. "You're Phineas, right?" He asked as he straightened his glasses once more.
The man's eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms. "That's Headmaster Black to you," he corrected.
"Er, sorry, sir," Harry said as he awkwardly stood up. "Thanks…I guess for trying to save me and Ron. Even though we didn't actually need it."
The old headmaster stared him down. "Albus may believe your story, boy, but I know what I saw," he said with deep suspicion. "I don't know what's going on, but I find I'm very curious…something I haven't been in quite a long time."
"There's nothing going on, sir," Harry assured him as he fished his clothes out of his trunk to make a quick escape.
"Boy, I've seen more dark magic in my life than that upstart calling himself Voldemort. I know dark magic when I see it, and you, my new friend, are not a light wizard," Headmaster Black stated sternly before turning and leaving his portrait, Harry stared at the empty painting in his wake.
"Yeah…that's going to end well," Harry muttered sarcastically as he left to change his clothes in the bathroom and get started on whatever that cleaning project was Mrs. Weasley had been planning to keep his mind off the hunger that was now gnawing at his stomach.
It turned out the library was Harry's favorite room in the house, though he hadn't visited the basement yet. That was probably going to be excellent judging by his reactions to the aura of the house so far. When he stepped inside, he just wanted to sit and enjoy the almost warm feeling of the room. Everyone else was grumbling, complaining, and decking themselves out in gloves and protective supplies. It helped his feeling of hunger that no one was happy anymore though.
It didn't take long to realize that something was in the room…something was calling to him. Harry trailed his dust rag across the shelves in the library, separating from the others and looking for whatever was calling to him. It was like…treacle tart or the best chocolate cake. He could almost smell the sugar wafting throughout the room. There was a treat for him, if only he could find it.
A glint of gold caught his eye, and he could feel his dementor instantly perk up. What in Merlin's name is it with dementors and shiny things? Harry thought, even as his eyes were arrested by the shiny gold locket sitting innocently on the shelf.
He took in a deep breath…food…a soul. There was a soul just sitting there, no body, no one would miss it…Harry was transfixed. His hand inched towards the chain. "Harry, watch what you touch!" Mrs. Weasley called out in warning. "I haven't looked over those shelves yet."
Harry was trying to stop himself, but he didn't think he could. There was no moral directive keeping him from the soul without a body, and he was just so, so hungry. A loud pop resounded throughout the room before Harry could give himself away by pulling a Gollum and calling the locket "my precious" or something equally mortifying.
"Kreacher was being distracted by the bad master. The mudbloods and blood traitors are taking the treasure of House Black once more. Kreacher will stop the desecration of the mistress's house!" An ancient elf stated as he tried to stare down Molly Weasley.
In the distraction, Harry quickly pocketed the locket. The movement caught the attention of the ancient elf who turned his yellow eyes instantly over to the shelf that no longer contained the locket. "Kreacher is…" the elf stopped mid-thought as his gaze fell on Harry being the obvious one who took the necklace.
Instead of yelling at the teen, as Harry and probably everyone else in the room expected, Kreacher let out an inhuman shriek of fear and ran from the room. He didn't apparate or pop or whatever elves do, he just ran, ran in more fear than Harry had ever seen an elf before.
"Uh…what'd I do?" Harry looked to the others in the room in confusion. Could the elf see him as he really was? That wasn't going to go well when he returned to Hogwarts which had an army of elves to run the castle.
"No clue, but you're my cleaning buddy from now on!" Ron exclaimed with a smile. "Kreacher is Sirius's elf that came with the house. He's foul! If you keep him away, you're coming with me everywhere."
"Ron, really! He's just responding to the ill treatment he's had at Sirius's hand," Hermione berated him. "He needs to be shown more kindness and understanding."
"I'm pretty certain he'd murder you in your sleep if he could get away with it," Ginny informed her as the elf's pureblood beliefs were evident from even that one interaction.
"Yeah, maybe we should all move into Harry's room," George chuckled as his twin rolled his dusting rag and snapped it at his butt.
"Children, please," Mrs. Weasley sighed in frustration. "Just keep cleaning and watch what you touch."
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