With a<span style="font-style: italic">crack</span>Kreacher was the first to reach the hall, appearing a yard away from Draco, all manners seemingly lost to old age.<br/>There was a look of surprised reverence in the old house elf's gaze as he gawked up at Draco, his presence in the house incomprehensible to him. Brazenly, Kreacher limped closer, clutching at Draco's cloak with, heavy tears of relief collecting at the corners of his eyes.<br/>"Master Black," the old elf babbled, his voice almost a sob.<br/>Only moments mater, Harry appeared in the doorway leading into the livingroom, having only come from the basement when the front door chimed, announcing the arrival of a guest. Harry had quite frankly never heard the sound, and yet the sight that met him was even more incomprehensible.<br/>"What are you doing?" Harry perplexed, more exhasperated annoyance than true anger. Stepping closer, Harry reached for Kreacher's shoulder; of many ireprehensible habits the elf had, and Harry had come to get used to, this was new and immensely disconherning. "Get off him, Christ -"<br/>Even beig forced at a distance of Draco, Kreacher clung to the fabric for as long as he could, desperation in both his grip and protests. "Horrible,<span style="font-style: italic">awful</span>halfblood! Master has returned, rotten Potter has to leave,<span style="font-style: italic">unwelcome</span>-"