"Kreacher does not understand, young master," croaked Kreacher, looking at Sirius, Harry and Ron in turn. "Has Kreacher failed in his orders?"
Harry rubbed his temples wearily. He had thought he'd reached an understanding with Kreacher, but it seemed the ugly old House-Elf had slipped back into his old, uncooperative ways.
"Sirius asked you to track down Ginny and bring her back here," he said, his voice tight with irritation. "So why did he find you out in the hall just now, dusting the House-Elf heads?"
Kreacher cast a loathing glance in Master Sirius's direction, his bulbous eyes flickering as if seeking confirmation. He truly didn't mind following Harry's orders— he bore Master Regulus's mission, and furthermore, Master Sirius had told him to honour the wishes of his guests— but when his true master was in the room, his loyalty towards him superseded all others.
"What are you looking at me for?" said Sirius unpleasantly, returning the Elf's glare. "Answer the bloody question. Why aren't you out there, searching for Ginny Weasley?"
The instant Sirius had seen the message hidden inside the fake locket that Harry had retrieved earlier in the summer, he'd made the connection between the mysterious R.A.B. who had stolen the real Slytherin's Locket and his own brother, Regulus Arcturus Black. When he'd returned home, Kreacher had revealed to him— along with Harry and the others— that Ginny had secretly pocketed the real locket two years ago during her stay at 12 Grimmauld Place.
To Sirius's surprise, Regulus had turned out to be a true hero. He was rather proud of him!
"Kreacher does not recall being told to fetch the blood traitor girl," Kreacher said hatefully. "Kreacher received no orders for the evening, so Kreacher returned to his usual duties."
And yet now, Kreacher had somehow forgotten all about the mission Sirius had given him, which was rather odd, considering they all wanted the very same thing Regulus had wanted— the locket's destruction.
"What did I say about calling my friends names?" roared Sirius in righteous anger.
Kreacher started repeatedly banging his forehead against Harry's bed.
"Stop him!" yelled Ron.
"He can stand to punish himself a while longer," said Sirius nonchalantly. "Stubborn old fool won't learn a thing from it, but he certainly deserves it."
"That's not what I mean," sighed Ron. "If Hermione walks back in the room and sees Kreacher like this, we'll never hear the end of it."
As if to illustrate his point, it was at that particular moment that Hermione decided to shriek. Harry, Ron, and Sirius dropped what they were holding and seized their wands at once, sprinting towards Tonks's room, meeting Lupin as he rushed up the stairs from his evening snack in the kitchen.
"Hermione!" Ron shouted as they barged into the master bedroom. "Are you—"
Harry didn't know what he'd been expecting to have drawn a shriek from Hermione's lips— she had a habit of screaming at the strangest things: Death Eaters, moth-eaten books, nightmares about failing tests, Boggarts— but it certainly hadn't been a piece of parchment.
Earlier, they'd all heard the loud noise from the neighbouring room, but at the time, they hadn't thought much of it— Tonks was notoriously clumsy and often sent things clattering from desks and tables. The boys had rolled their eyes behind Hermione's back when she'd insisted on checking in on her, having noticed that Tonks wasn't quite the ray of sunshine she used to be and seemed rather down. But now, as always, it seemed Hermione had been right about everything…
"She's gone," Hermione whispered, holding out the letter Oleandra had only just written.
"I'm just getting in everyone's way, going to lie low for a bit, don't try to find me, sorry," Ron read out loud, his eyes jumping from left to right as he skimmed over the short letter. "Blimey…"
Lupin seemed to deflate, the lines on his face deepening by another twenty years. And for once, Sirius couldn't find anything snarky or witty to say.
"This is your fault," Lupin said hoarsely, after a few seconds. "Dora and I only wanted to help— but you all kept treating her like some delicate flower, just because she's expecting. She's an Auror, for Merlin's sake. Just try to imagine how useless you made her feel. Made us feel."
"What are you still doing here, man?" barked Sirius, finally snapping out of his trance. "She's your woman, isn't she!? Go after her!"
Harry glanced around the room.
There was an Anti-Apparition Jinx on the house— so how had she managed to leave her room without anyone noticing? Had she jumped out of the window, or something? While pregnant!? He didn't trust his Slowing Charms nearly enough to entertain the idea of jumping from the first floor, so he had to admire the woman's guts…
"I… we… we weren't…" stammered Hermione, before adding in a single breath, "the fewer people who know about our mission, the fewer chances Voldemort has to guess Dumbledore's plan!"
Ron's eyebrows twitched with anger at the sorry state Lupin had reduced her to.
"Don't talk to Hermione like that," said Ron menacingly, moving between her and Lupin.
"Or what?" roared Lupin, stepping right into his face. "How do you, of all people, propose to stop me, Ronald Bilius Weasley?"
Ron's expression turned ugly, his face flushing bright red. No one ever said it out loud out of respect towards Harry, but everyone knew that Ronald Weasley couldn't hold a candle to either of his two best friends. Nobody knew that better than him— and yet… and yet…!
"ENOUGH!"
Hermione's scream broke the two men from their macho standoff, and they turned to her, embarrassment washing over them at their juvenile display.
"This isn't the time to be fighting amongst ourselves," said Harry, cutting in before Hermione could start crying. "Something's happened to Kreacher and Ginny, so our best lead's gone cold— and now, Tonks is missing."
Lupin had no idea what Harry was talking about and why looking for Ginevra Weasley suddenly had anything to do with Dumbledore's quest, but he kept his mouth shut and listened.
"Without the Invisibility Cloak, I've realised there's a lot I thought we could do that we can't any more," he went on. "And I realised a long time ago there are plenty of things I can't do on my own, so…"
A seventeen-year-old Sirius might not have fit his idea of a father figure— but Harry had still chosen to include him in the secret hunt for the Horcruxes. He was the only family Harry had left in the world, and he couldn't bear the thought of losing him a second time, so he had decided to bring him along for the ride.
So, what were two more people?
"We're getting Tonks back," said Harry firmly. "Once she's safe with us, I'll tell you everything."
Sirius grinned at Harry's words. He didn't like having to keep secrets from his friends.
"Kreacher!" he called out.
The floppy-eared old House-Elf Disapparated from the adjoining room and Apparated into the master bedroom. His forehead was red and bloodied— Sirius hadn't thought to tell him to stop punishing himself after urging him on.
"What happened to him!?" screeched Hermione.
"I order you to locate my cousin Nymphadora Tonks, the woman who lived in this room," said Sirius firmly, ignoring Hermione's protests that Kreacher needed medical attention. "As soon as you find her, bring her straight back here."
Kreacher gave a low bow, shooting Sirius one last dirty look before vanishing with a sharp crack.