Kreacher was not the first house-elf Tris had met, but he was the one who had made the worst impression on him.
Tris had visited a number of wizarding families with Arthur and Molly, including some who were still living quite comfortably.
Those households had house-elves serving them too. Following the old doctrine that the best house-elf was one who never appeared before people, they rarely showed themselves, though there were always exceptions.
Although those elves wore no clothes, they wrapped themselves in clean fabric, keeping themselves tidy rather than looking shabby or downtrodden. They generally seemed quite spirited, too.
Although house-elves effectively had no standing in the wizarding world, wizarding households that deliberately mistreated them were also practically nonexistent.
A family as bizarre as the Malfoys was a rarity among rarities. Calling them an anomaly would not be an exaggeration.
Kreacher was not quite as miserable as the Dobby Tris remembered, but he did not look much better, with his wrinkled skin and grubby appearance.
Still, when Tris considered that Kreacher had spent more than a decade guarding that enormous property alone, only to have the master he despised most return, he could understand.
Well, let me give this little elf some hope in life again!
That was what Tris thought.
"Is everyone here?" Sirius bustled about, positively beaming. "I've sorted out the paperwork, and the house in London is ready too. All we need to do now is go through the fireplace. First, let's get familiar with the name of our destination. It's French, after all. If you end up in the wrong place, finding you won't be easy."
Arthur and the others nodded cheerfully and followed Sirius in practicing the rather tongue-twisting French place name. They only felt reassured once everyone's pronunciation was completely correct.
"You speak