"What did you just say?" George bellowed.
"Kreacher said nothing," the elf replied, turning to bow deeply to George while adding in perfectly audible undertones: "And there's his twin brother—both unruly, disrespectful little beasts they are."
Orli crossed her arms and studied the creature with narrowed eyes. Kreacher straightened, glaring back with undisguised malice in his bloodshot gaze, apparently convinced they couldn't hear his continued muttering:
"And here are the other children, standing bold as brass, oh if my Mistress could see this disgrace, what would she say to old Kreacher, oh the shame... and there's a new girl, Kreacher doesn't know her name. What's she doing here? Kreacher doesn't know..."
"This is Orli, Orli Waters, Kreacher," Hermione said tentatively.
Kreacher's pale eyes widened, and his muttering accelerated into furious whispers:
"The Mudblood speaks to Kreacher like a friend, if Kreacher's Mistress saw such company, oh what would she say—"
"Don't call her that!" Ron shouted angrily.
"It's alright," Hermione whispered. "He's not in his right mind—he doesn't know what he's saying—"
"Don't fool yourself, Hermione. He knows exactly what he's saying," Fred said, regarding Kreacher with open disgust.
"Why is this wretched thing out here again?!" Sirius had returned from disposing of the doxy eggs, glowering at the house-elf from the doorway.
At Sirius's appearance, Kreacher performed such a deep bow his nose nearly touched the floor.
"Stand up," Sirius snapped impatiently. "What are you doing now?"
"Kreacher is cleaning," the elf said. "Kreacher serves the noble House of Black—"
"Making this filthy place darker every day, more like," Sirius said coldly.
"Master always enjoyed his little jokes," Kreacher said, bowing again while continuing in audible undertones: "Master is a nasty, ungrateful swine who breaks his mother's heart—"
"My mother had no heart, Kreacher," Sirius said icily.
"Whatever Master says," Kreacher muttered furiously. "Master isn't fit to lick his mother's boots, oh my poor Mistress, what would she say seeing Kreacher serve him now, how she despised him, what a disappointment he was—"
"I asked what you were doing," Sirius said expressionlessly. "Every time you claim to be cleaning, you sneak rubbish up to your room where we can't dispose of it."
"Kreacher would never remove anything from its proper place in Master's house!" Kreacher protested, then muttered rapidly: "Mistress would never forgive Kreacher if the tapestry was thrown away, it's been in the family seven hundred years, Kreacher must preserve it, Kreacher won't let Master and his friends and these brats destroy it—"
"No doubt she's put some Permanent Sticking Charm on that wall," Sirius said, glaring contemptuously at the opposite side of the room. "But if I can get rid of it, I will. Now get out, Kreacher."
Kreacher shot Sirius a look of pure loathing and shuffled slowly toward the door. But just as he reached the threshold, Orli spoke.
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