Cypripedium Reginae: Lady's Slippers
-:-
Roses are black
Violets are black
You're black
I'm alive
You're dead
I killed you all
- Tis I
-:-
"Ring a ring a roses/The body decomposes/Ashes to ashes/We all fall down/The Moirai have come/To save us from these slums/To kill us and to slay us/ We all tumble down."
Harry looked around, knees cradled to his chest as he sang softly. To his left, a slumbering beast opened a single red eye, only closing when the boy continued to sing.
"Ring a ring a roses/My body starts the searches/ For the lost heart that – "
That is not how it went the first time.
Starting, the five year-old's head shot up to stare at the large fox, both those red eyes open and staring right at him through titanic bars of iron.
"Ring – Ring –" The child tried to ignore the beast, stuttering over the only constant in his life. The childish rhyme turned morbid and something that was his only hope in his little world.
Do not ignore me mortal.
"Ring a ring a roses/The life doth proposes – "
Red energy seemed through the bars, sending Harry skittering backwards while killing intent filled the sewer. "R-ring – R-ring a- a r-ring a- a – "
His breathing grew ragged, the caged fox watching with clinical eyes that held a touch of reluctant admiration. You still persist even after feeling my power?
Harry shook his head and bit his lip, silence after that verdict of acknowledgement. "I-"
-:-
Green orbs opened with lazy reluctance, slim fingers coming up to rub the bridge of his nose, a headache already building behind his eyes. "It's been a while since I've had that… memory." Shaking his head, Harry slid off the bed, barely giving a thought to the freezing floors of Grimmauld Place.
Absently casting a wandless one-way silencing charm on the painting of the late Lady Black – he continued on his way to the bathroom.
Flicking the lights on with a simple lumos, Harry looked into the mirror to stare at his too wide eyes and too pale skin. "Damn that dream." H e murmured, splashing water onto his face before sighing and remembering the rest of the memory.
-:-
The exact words were lost to the five year old's mind, but it went along the lines of, "I don't want to die." The creature had stared at him before laughing; cavernous laughs that made the sewer shake in the hulking beast's pleasure.
Little brat. The fox spoke, a whisper of amusement in his voice. You remind me of my keeper, for lack of better terms. Even moving a single tail, the room shook. Why are you here?
Replying a negative seemed to anger the creature, but he kept his cool. Has someone beaten you? My jailer has appeared multiple times because of that intention.
-:-
Of course it was because of a beating. Vernon had gotten into the spirits and was very temperamental because of that and even keeping to his cupboard hadn't sated Vernon's lust for violence.
Clearing his head, Harry sighed, once more feeling older than his 16 years. Scrubbing his face, he flicked the lights off and slid back into bed only for a loud, 'gong!' to go through the house signaling someone wanted access to the floo.
Cursing and pulling on a pair of loose bottoms, he tapped the picture of his late Dog-father awake and allowed the floo entrée when he found it was Hermione.
"Hermy!" Sirius cried out making kissy faces against the confines of his portrait, showing how ecstatic he was to see her. "You never visit anymore and Har-har is such a bore." Then pouted outrageously, warm and loving eyes wide in a mock 'forever mine' look.
Hermione Weasley nee Granger merely ignored the flamboyancy of the Dog-father.
"We must talk Harry."
I hate conversations that start like that, and it seemed Sirius did as well – seeing as the pseudo convict had immediately disappeared from his frame. How comforting.
"This better not be about Ginny." Was all Harry said, heading to the kitchen to fix a pot of tea. "And I hope you have no problem with Oolong, as it seems I ran out of the swill you drink."
Hermione followed closely at his heels, chiding the sharp jab at her drink of favor. "Black tea is perfectly fine, in fact; it has many medical purposes and in recent studies, they declare black tea a potential heart tonic, cancer blocker, fat buster, immune stimulant, arthritis soother and … I'm going to stop now as it seems you're not even listening."
Green eyes widened in a parody of innocence, "As sharp as ever Hermy-dear." She snorted in a distinctly inelegant way, crossing her arms and lifting an eyebrow.
"You cannot still be angry Harry; it was for the greater good after all." Harry sneered, one noticeably derisive, pissed and annoyed all in one action.
"Greater good, greater good. Yes, the greater good which has caused deaths that could have been prevented Hermione." Contrary to his outward resentment, his movements were graceful and unhurried. "Now, tell me what you want so I can kick you out."
Rolling her eyes, Hermione grabbed a seat without asking and took a cup. "Where did you get this Harry? Oolong this well-made cannot come from England, or anywhere in Britain for that matter."
With an eye roll of his own – as it seemed they were avoiding that topic of conversation – he sat. "In Japan." He threw in tersely.
This appeared to be the subject she wanted to start in.
"That's just it Harry. You go around the world; Japan, China, Korea, Germany, France – and not once have you asked Ginny if she wanted to go. Shouldn't you invite your own fiancé?"
After taking a soothing sip of his tea, Harry placed it down with deceiving gentleness. Breathing in, a calming exercise, he stood. "Exies." Immediately, the Witch was thrown into the air – none to gently – and thrown out the door and into the streets with a screech of pure fury.
"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" Snickering, as the Grimmauld Place was still under Fidelius, it gives the impression of a crazy woman yelling at an empty lot.
That problem done, he was just about to go back sleep when an owl screeched its arrival and – considering only Gringotts and friends could contact him – the letter was taken with a sigh of disappointment and a look of longing towards his comfortable bed.
Tearing the letter open, he saw it was a summons.
There went his sleep.
-:-
To those who bothered to show up;
Harry snickered, "Someone's bitter." Then abruptly stopped when he remembered what the man had done for him and the world in general. A git though he was, the man was noble to the core.
Cease your laughing Potter.
Eyes widening, Harry looked around to see if anyone else was in the room. Though who could get into a highly secured, goblin protected chamber was beyond him. Comforting himself, he told himself that the bloke was always perceptive.
I do not know why you're here, or what you're doing here – but considering the fact that there's no one else, I will… thank you.
And no matter how much Harry bit his lip, he couldn't help the quiet chuckle at the blotty indent showing how much it actually pained the Wizard to write the words.
I have little possessions as all had been taken by my – biological and magical family – but the items that I do have are worth taking care of. And so help me Potter, if you even think of leaving anything behind, I will come back from beyond the grave and excavate you and the mutt until you're both useless – even as Potions ingredients.
Though not the best threat from the ex-resident of Howarts, the words were enough to make Harry gulp and nod with not so little fear. "Tch. Even in death, the bastard can still put the fright of God into anyone."
Before your Mother had died, she entrusted me with this –
Before Harry had even finished reading, a light flashed and a black choker wrapped around his neck, a sapphire glowing darkly from the hanging, teardrop frame.
- object that had appeared at your birth. As it was, war made people paranoid and your Mother and… Father-
This was even worse than the thank you. It looked like the man had broken the tip of his quill writing the word and then had purposely smeared it so even Harry at the moment had a hard time reading it.
-were the worse. So an item that so precipitously appears would be taken as a threat. Pleasantries aside, this object has ended up in my care. With your Mother's consent, I used every spell I was acquainted with and came to the conclusion that this thing was a Portkey.
Now he wondered, almost nervously, if he should take it off.
Don't you dare take it off Potter.
"Bloody hell, that's eerie."
The sapphire seems to be the connection and should you – I detest using such words – really want to, the portkey will respond to your wish and transport you to… I have yet to determine where. And as I am deceased, I – apparently – will never.
This made Harry more than a little regretful. What would have happened if he actually took the time to know the man…? The question startled him enough that the raven-haired boy almost coughed in disbelief. 'As if he would have. Probably would've been easier to talk to the Basilisk.'
Enough talk of the enigmatic portkey that you will try out before you can think of anything else. Dunderheads are all alike and I believe your godfather would have done the same.
In this letter, I have contained a personal trunk – not so extravagant for the Great Harry Potter – that comprises of two rooms, a kitchen where one will be able to store, but not cook food and a Potion's Lab. From a reliable source, I have heard of your farfetched and sorprendente abilities in Potions.
Shocked green eyes stared at the letter, thinking furiously about who would tell of his secret skills. The answer came quickly and swiftly with plenty thoughts of revenge. "Blaise."
If you aren't as much a dunderhead as I hope – and positively prayed for – then you would know it was one Mr. Zabini that had told me…
There was a slightly dark imprint in the paper, as if the writer were thinking of something deep.
It has come to my attention that you were friends with the boy… Then the Will continued as if the thought simply had to be written down. Take care of it along with the library included. It contains every book I have ever come across in my line of work. And yes Potter, some of the books are Dark.
Harry smiled sheepishly and scratched his head, a little embarrassed about his thought question and the ability the bloke seemed to have concerning his thoughts.
Take. Care. Of it.
"Geez. He acts like I'm going to lose it."
You will not lose it. If you do, you will die by my hands.
"Well then."
As for the portkey… you may take up to one person.
Signed,
Severus Snape
"What a windup." Harry murmured in amusement, closing the letter and staring at the trunk and teardrop sapphire. "What to do, what to do…?" Though the letter was surprising… in every way… seriously… every way. Harry knew one thing he had to do… Portkeying out of Gringotts, Harry left with a war cry of – "I'll kill you, Blaise!"
Elsewhere, Blaise shivered in fright.
-:-
Omake (Extra)
-:-
Sometimes Harry liked to think he was alone in his cupboard. At other times, he still remembered those dark, dark and angry red eyes that would stare at him like the Dursleys did... except worse.
And Harry didn't think it could get any worse.
Those red eyes would always criticize what Harry was doing, no matter what the task. And Harry feared he was going crazy.
But then the first beating happened.
He was five.
The slap came hard and unexpected. "You Freak!" Aunt Petunia had screeched, kicking the small boy over as he fell to the floor. "You ruin everything! Better grades than Dudley, better cooking than me! You must be using your Freakiness!"
And she kept hitting him and hitting him until he passed out and woke in a sewer filled with clear water and red, red eyes watching him with something akin to fascination - a type of fascination one would have of a bug under a magnifying glass.
So easy to kill, and interesting to watch. Then the beast spoke.
Little fleshling, why are you here I wonder.
-:-
Review please.
I would also request creative criticism, please.
More information will be forthcoming in the next chapter.
Tell me if you want Blaise to be a main character. Personally, I actually like him.