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Son of Toddy and Mitzy


CRACK!

The three wizards and Kreacher landed on the sidewalk before Malfoy Manor. The mist that had hung over Hogwarts grounds was a thick fog here, creating an eerie effect on the house as the three of them gathered their wits about them. Severus recovered first, straightening the long black robes and straightening the cuffs of his uniform. “Tuck in your shirt, Regulus.” Regulus looked down, numbly, and shoved his shirt into the waistband of his pants, where it had come half undone.

Barty stared at one of the ornate peacocks strutting across the lawn with a raised eyebrow, clearly judging the frivolous nature of such a thing.

Severus started to walk forward, but Regulus caught his arm. “Severus… they’re after my brother,” he said.

Severus stood still, contemplating how to reply. Regulus sounded upset, but as far as Severus was concerned he hoped they would catch Sirius Black. Hoped he’d get to see the moment when the Dark Lord killed him. His mum was to be avenged this night. But Regulus’s eyes were wide with worry.

Before Severus could think of something neutral to say, Barty said, “Your brother’s a blood traitor, he deserves whatever he gets.”

Kreacher looked up at Regulus, hs ears moving sympathetically.

Severus’s face twitched with the words. Sirius Black did deserve whatever he got, he thought. For killing Eileen Prince, Sirius Black deserved a lot worse than the death Voldemort would serve him. The thing Severus really wanted to know, above all the other little mysteries of the night, was what the door below the Whomping Willow had to do with Sirius Black and where did that door go that Kreacher sealing it meant they’d catch Sirius Black? And what were they doing on the grounds? Surely Black wasn’t still on the grounds? He’d been expelled… Of course, the bloody Marauders - James Potter and that reckless, rule-breaking lot of horrid gits probably had found some way to sneak him back…

Regulus took a deep breath. It shook slightly…

Severus looked at him and he attempted to enter his mind, just to be sure that the boy was safe from Voldemort seeing his concern.

Regulus’s mind was locked.

“Very good with the occlumency,” murmured Severus.

Regulus didn’t reply.

“Come, let’s go in.” Severus stepped forward and the other three followed after - Kreacher running again, reaching into his pouch to withdraw the golden alarm clock and polishing it with his pillowcase to get rid of the fingerprints on the gold and glass face.

There were cries filling the hall as they entered the front door but they weren’t of pain - they sounded like a funny baby’s cries. The three of them stood there in the entryway, looking around… Kreacher scurried through the doorframe into the parlor on the left, clutching the clock. “Kreacher is returned, Kreacher is back with the clock,” came the elf’s voice, “Master Orion tells Kreacher to get the clock and bring it to the Dark Lord sir and here is Kreacher with the clock.”

“So it’s true,” the Dark Lord’s voice was shrill and excited and there was a pause of a beat, then a loud crack of skin against skin and a whimper from Kreacher. Regulus stiffened at the sound of the whimpers and his jaw set and he moved forward, into the parlor.

Before they followed, Barty Crouch Jr. looked at Severus Snape. “The Dark Lord is in there,” he murmured, a starstruck sort of awe to his voice.

“Yes,” Severus said flatly, “He is.” And she strode into the parlor, followed by Barty, whose wide eyes took in the Dark Lord’s form as he sat before the fire in a very ornate chair, turning the clocks over in his hands, grinning.

The Dark Lord looked up. Regulus had come to a stop and Severus and Barty flanked him silently as the Dark Lord watched, his mouth quivering with amusement as he looked them over. “Isn’t this a surprise,” he murmured, and he put the clock down gingerly on the little table beside him, standing up and drawing his bone-white wand from his robe sleeve in an almost elegant sweep of his wrist. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?”

Severus’s voice rang clear and cold - the tone he always used in the presence of the Dark Lord. “Fenrir Greyback and Druella Black wished us to convey a message to you.” Severus paused for dramatic effect. He glanced about. He had every witch and wizard’s attention. “He’ll have Sirius Black here before the end of the night.”

Excitement coursed through the room.

The Dark Lord smiled. “Very good. But why send all three of you?”

Severus replied, “It’s only fair that I witness the execution of my mother’s murderer, sir,” he said smoothly. Then he glanced at Regulus, “And Regulus, his brother.”

Regulus had to fight to keep his mind steady at these words and the sharp edge to which Severus had said them.

“And the third?” Voldemort’s eyes traversed over Barty.

“This is my friend, Bartemius Crouch Junior,” Regulus announced, “He is a very powerful boy in my year at Hogwarts, and he’s come with me to witness my foul brother’s execution as well. He admires you, sir,” he added, “And seeks to serve you sir.”

Barty took two steps forward and dropped to his knees, bowing his head. “I desire nothing more, my Lord,” he said.

Regulus stared at the reverent form of his best mate there on the floor and something deep within him hardened and he glanced at Severus, whose jaw and mouth was as hard a line as any he’d ever seen, and Regulus felt sick.

Voldemort stepped forward slowly, reaching out a hand to touch the top of the boy’s head, to run his palm over the shaggy brown hair. “Bartemius Crouch Junior…” the Dark Lord chuckled, “The son of a very prominent ministry official… interested in becoming Minister, they say…”

Barty nodded, “Yes, sir.”

“And you kneel before the Dark Lord instead of our father, boy?” Voldemort demanded.

“I renounce my father,” replied Barty. “You are more powerful than he would ever be, even in his wildest dreams, my Lord.”

Voldemort laughed, a low, throaty sort of chuckle. He drew his palm away from the boy’s head and turned away, walking back to the chair he’d been sitting in before.

The cries that echoed through the house intensified. The Dark Lord looked about and his eyes landed on Lucius Malfoy, “Silence that horrid thing,” he snarled, “Kill it if you must.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Lucius replied, and he swept from the room.

Severus looked over his shoulder as Lucius Malfoy left, then he turned back forward, his eyes sweeping over the Death Eaters gathered in the room. “Sir,” Severus said, and the Dark Lord’s eyes landed upon him. “Orion Black has not come to witness the death of his son?”

“Orion Black will join us shortly,” replied the Dark Lord.

There suddenly came a screaming cry from the other room, the direction that Malfoy had gone in. The cries of the baby were drowned out and then, “AVADA KEDAVRA!” bellowed Lucius Malfoy. The cries of the baby did not stop, but a loud wail went up instead. “AVADA KEDAVRA!” and the loud wailing stopped quite suddenly.

Voldemort’s eyes were sharply focused on the doorway as flashes of green light flickered in from across the hall.

Regulus’s stomach turned horribly.

The baby cries were still going up, then Malfoy returned, clutching a struggling bundle of dirty rags and he looked about, his eyes landing on Kreacher. “Bring this to the house elves in the basement,” he said, shoving the bundle into Kreacher’s arms. “Tell them we’ve gained a new servant.”

Kreacher reached up and Regulus saw, protruding from the dirty rags, a long nose and big ears and wide, bulbous eyes… a tiny house elf was clutched within those rags. A baby.

Regulus’s heart seized up, and he realized they’d just heard the death of Toddy the house elf and probably his wife as well. This little bundle was all that was left of the little elvish family and Regulus’s fist clenched uneasily as Kreacher clutched the infant to himself. He scrambled away. Regulus leaped forward, “I’ll see to it that Kreacher follows your command, my Lord,” he announced, “As one of Kreacher’s masters.”

The Dark Lord waved him off without a verbal response. He stood and paced over to the fire place.

Severus stared at Regulus as he left the room, a look of disapproval on his face.

Regulus didn’t give a damn if Severus understood or not. He had to see to it that the baby house elf was given proper care.

Kreacher passed through the parlor and there on the carpet laid the two bodies of the elves Lucius Malfoy had killed. Their eyes wide with desperation, the lids unclosed. Regulus felt a shiver go through him, and he looked at Kreacher, who was struggling to keep the bundle still as the baby started to cry again. “Let me see it, Kreacher,” Regulus said, and he reached out his arms, taking the little bundle away from Kreacher. “I’ll carry it, you lead the way.”

“Yes, Master Regulus.”

Regulus stared down at the tiny house elf in the bundle and he felt profoundly sad for the creature. It’s wide eyes searched the air, probably looking for his mother’s face - a face he would not see again - a face that Regulus now had burned into his memories as it stared vacantly from the carpet beside Toddy’s.

“What was Toddy’s wife’s name, Kreacher?” he asked lowly.

“Mitzy, Master Regulus,” Kreacher replied. “Mitzy was her name.”

“And what is this baby’s name?”

“Dobby, sir,” Kreacher answered. “Dobby is the son of Toddy and Mitzy, sir.”

“Dobby.” Regulus looked down at the little elf as Kreacher led them into the servant quarters of the manor, down a small flight of stairs and through a roughly hewn wood door… then down another flight of stairs… and they were in a small room - well, more like a dungeon than a room, really. Bits of straw lay about the low ceilings and there was a horrible dripping sound, a gut-wrenching, putrid sort of smell, and one flickering torch. Regulus looked around. “What is this place?”

“The house elves quarters, Master Regulus,” Kreacher replied.

“But it’s foul,” Regulus protested.

Kreacher’s ears flapped.

“We can’t leave him here,” Regulus said, scowling.

“Oh but we must, Master Regulus,” Kreacher replied, “We must.” And with that, he took the little bundle containing Dobby the house elf and he carried it over to a particularly large clump of the straw and laid the little thing down.

Regulus’s eyes stayed upon Dobby as he followed Kreacher up the stairs and out of the dismal hovel of the house elves quarters.