The offer

Harry Potter was tired. Being an Auror had been his sort-of goal at school, but after fighting a guerilla war against the Voldemort regime going around and picking up d***ken louts in Knockturn Alley just wouldn’t compare to the thrill of chasing down Horcruxes. And the paperwork… nobody had warned him about the paperwork.
He apparated to his house at Grimmauld Place and handed his robe to his loyal House-Elf Kreacher.
“Master has visitors he has,” Kreacher informed him.

“Oh?” Harry stretched, walking into the living room. “Who is it Kreacher?”
“It is being the Mudbl**d, the crazy one, and the pauper,” Kreacher grumbled. Harry ignored the slurs, he knew Kreacher was simply too old to know better, and at least there was no malice in it.
“Hermione, Luna, and Ginny? Where are they Kreacher?”
“They are being in the Master’s room. Master is to be going to them now they said.” The Elf gave him a strange look, which Harry thought might be a smirk, “Master be having fun. Kreacher be talking with the Mistress.”