Kreacher

Grimmauld Place Number 12 has seen better days. The used-to-be palace for a once mighty family now crumbles into molds and dust. One old house-elf surely could not keep up with the maintenance. Thick layers of filths cover most furniture in every room, except for one bedroom on the second floor and the kitchen. The two are the cleanest rooms in the entire house.

The ancient elf miraculously stayed alive despite the old age and the dwindling family magic that keeps the bond to the current Master of the house. The master whom the elf despised with a passion. The one foolhardy and blood traitor of the late Mistress' spawn. He sneered at the memories of the fool.

Kreacher loved the other Master best, the late Mistress' other offspring. Master Regulus was always very kind, soft, and considerate to his lowly self. Though, he was also very dead. Kreacher felt tears gather in his eyes while remembering his incompetence in saving his beloved master. He blamed himself severely for his demise to the inferis in that blasted cave. Now, Kreacher only has the locket to remember him by. The locket which his late Master made him promise to destroy.

Kreacher's heart is filled with anguish. How could he do it? It's the only thing he has to remember about his beloved Master in his final precious moments. He simply couldn't.

Thus, Kreacher kept the locket away in his stash of precious things he's collected over the years. Sometimes, he wears it all day long just to reminisce the old happy days. He and Master Regulus would sneak out into the kitchen on some sleepless nights to drink hot chocolate together. The hot chocolate, Krecher never permitted to drink until given freely by his kind master.

Master Regulus loved his hot chocolate. Though he would never admit it to his mother or father lest he is ridiculed for being too weak. He would read tales of the olden days to Kreacher, who silently listened to his soft, quiet voice. Some nights he would rant about his mischievous older brother, whom he secretly admired and loved despite the other boy's obliviousness. Kreacher would sit, listen, and nod at his Master Regulus' tales and rantings. He would do this much for him. After all, Master Regulus always helped and protected Kreacher from the Mistress' bad days.

The lowly house-elves of the Black family were never given protection, let alone kindness. That is why perhaps, Kreacher loved Master Regulus and kept his memories of him tightly lest he ever forgets.

But of course, memories are vicious things. They haunt you of the past and saddle you with guilts, anger, and anguish with no chance of ever escaping.

The locket, too, is a horrible thing. It kept whispering dark thoughts to the wearer. The dark soul who resided inside would tweak anyone's mind to its own advantage. Keeping the soul intact inside the locket at any cost until the time comes when it would be reborn once again.

Unavoidably, Krecher, the Horcrux wearer, is snared...