the_debt_of_time

"Potters used to be in the book," he explained, "but when I ran off, my mother tore
the page out. Probably burnt it." He shrugged his shoulders and looked away, not enjoying
the fact that he needed to lie to his godson.
Ron sighed. "There's nothing else in here, Harry. Just a few dead rats."
"It's not over yet," Harry said, and he raised his voice and called, "Kreacher!"
Nothing happened.
"Why isn't he coming?" Hermione inquired.
"Maybe he finally died," Sirius muttered under his breath as he closed the large
book, handing it over to Hermione. Suddenly, his own words reached his head, and he
grinned at the idea of the old traitorous elf, dead somewhere. "Too bad he didn't leave a
cake behind that we could celebrate with."
Hermione glared at him. "Sirius!"
He groaned. Not this again. He thought he was done dealing with her elf rights
bullshit.
"Wait, what if you being alive makes your will invalid? What if he knows?" Harry
asked, crawling back out of the cupboard and dusting off his trousers.
Sirius raised a brow. "You mean I'm still in charge of the little monster?"
"Call him and see," Harry suggested.
"Bloody hell.. ." Sirius sighed. "Kreacher!"
There was a loud crack, and the house-elf that Sirius had so hoped
would not appear did, popping out of nowhere in front of the cold and empty fireplace: tiny,
half human-sized, his pale skin hanging off him in folds, and with white hair sprouting
copiously from his bat-like ears.
"Master has returned," Kreacher croaked in his bullfrog's voice, peering up at Sirius
with a look of disdain. "Oh, my poor Mistress will be so disappointed to know that the
ungrateful swine lives to bring further ruin to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.
Oh, my poor Mistress will be so disappointed with Kreacher for failing to get rid of the
blemish on her great and noble House."
"You did just fine, you little piece of shit!" Sirius reacted immediately and kicked
the rotten little monster, punting him forward a good three feet.
"Sirius!" Hermione shrieked.