A piercing shriek tore through the early morning air of number 4 Privet Drive.
Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, Tri-Wizard Champion, slayer of basilisks and dark wizards, leapt from the shower grabbed his wand from the sink and charged down the stairs wearing nothing but a towel and a heroic grimace. His wet feet slipped on the last few steps and he landed on the carpeted floor with a resounding thud. Scrambling to his feet, he staggered through the kitchen door wand first into quite possibly the strangest scene he had ever laid eyes on.
"What are those...those...things?" Aunt Petunia squeaked and she pointed a shaky finger at the bizarre tableau on her kitchen floor. She was pressed up against the refrigerator as though trying to back up through it, her faced stretched into a horrified grimace. Perched precariously on the kitchen table on the other side of the kitchen, which groaned alarmingly under his considerable weight, was his cousin Dudley. In between them were two small figures.
Kreacher was a house elf who had belonged to his godfather Sirius Black, until his untimely demise just a few weeks ago. In fact he had betrayed both Sirius and Harry to their mortal enemy Lord Voldemort, and assisted him in a plot which led to a furious battle in the offices of the Department of Mysteries, a battle which led to Sirius's death. He was currently kneeling on Harry's kitchen floor wearing a dirty rag and muttering darkly to himself. Standing over him was another house elf, Dobby.
"Harry Potter, sir! Youse is just in time." Dobby was normally cheerful to the point of ridiculousness, especially in the presence of his beloved Harry Potter. Harry had saved him from enslavement to a cruel abusive master. Today he was uncharacteristically grim. He was also armed. A huge kitchen knife, almost as big as he was rested in his hands.
"You know these creatures!" snapped Petunia.
"Of course the filthy blood traitor knows us, stupid muggle," muttered Kreacher., "should have died at the Dark Lord's..."
"Silence, you! You is a bad elf you is," screamed Dobby.
"Get them out of here at once!" Petunia shrieked.
"Er, Dobby," said Harry tentatively, "what's going on?"
"House elf justice," said Dobby solemnly, "Kreacher is being a bad house elf and is betraying his master."
Kreacher started to thrash about. "Blood traitor is not my master, should not be master. Miss Cissy should be mistress."
"Make the bad monkeys go away mummy!"wailed Dudley.
Harry rolled his eyes and adjusted his grip on his towel. "Look Dobby, could we maybe do this another time? And maybe somewhere other that my aunt's kitchen?"
"Elf justice be swift, Harry Potter," Dobby said sternly. "Now that bad Kreacher has a new master he must pay for betraying Master Sirius and for almost getting new master Harry Potter sir killed."
"Er, new master?"
"You is now Kreacher's master now that Master Sirius is dead and left you everything," said Dobby, "New master must witness Bad Elf's punishment."
Harry was stunned. "Everything..."
"And now Kreacher must be redeeming the honor of the House Black," Dobby continued, "For betraying youse masters you is sentenced by the Super Secret House Elf Council of Secrets to Elfpuku!"
"What?" said Harry.
"What!" screeched Petunia.
"Ahhhhhh!" screamed Dudley.
"I'll does it just to stops hearing the stupid muggles shouting," muttered Kreacher.
Dobby raised the enormous knife over his head. "You must take youse own life now bad Kreacher and restore the honor of youse master's house!"
Kreacher pulled a paring knife from under his filthy towel and looked at Harry. "I hope the Dark Lord kills you good, filthy blood..." He plunged the knife into his own belly and slashed horizontally, spilling house elf entrails all over the kitchen floor. His mouth opened in an agonized grimace and he seemed about to cry out. With a high pitched scream, which Petunia instantly matched, Dobby brought the enormous kitchen knife down on Kreacher's neck, severing his head. It rolled across the tile until it came to rest at Aunt Petunia's feet.
She let out another peircing scream and pressed even harder against the refrigerator, going up on her toes in an attempt to keep the gruesome object from touching her. As if to punctuate the horrible event, the kitchen table chose that moment to give up it's valiant struggle against Dudley's crushing weight and collapsed with a horrendous crack. Harry jumped at the sound and dropped his towel.
Dobby walked over to the whimpering Petunia and recovered the head. "I will be taking bad Kreacher's head to youse new house and nailing it to the wall with his ancestors, as is proper."
"Could you, er, clean up the body as well," asked a shell shocked Harry.
The deranged elf shook his head. "Dobby must mount the head quickly, Harry Potter sir, otherwise it dries out and will not take the preservative spells. Future generations of house elves must see bad Kreacher and learn what happens to bad elfs who betray they's masters. But leave it there Harry Potter sir. I will be returning to clean it up once I is finished."
With a snap of his fingers, Dobby disappeared.
It was, of course, at this moment that Vernon Dursley came home.
"God evening, Family" he chuckled in uncharacteristically good humor, "the most amusing thing happened today at work. I heard yelling. Little freak not giving you any trouble is he pet?"
He stopped and looked at his son blubbering amidst the wreckage of the kitchen table, his wife backed up against the refrigerator in a blood spattered dress, and the headless corpse of a disfigured monkey in a dress bleeding on his kitchen floor. His gaze finally settled on his naked blood spattered nephew. His right eye twitched and a hot flush began to creep up his neck
Nymphadora Tonks had been guarding Harry Potter off and on for the better part of a year. This was not an official part of her duties as an Auror, a dark wizard catcher for the Ministry of Magic. She also belonged to a secret society called The Order of the Phoenix which was dedicated to the downfall of the dark wizard Voldemort. For some reason which has never been adequately explained to her, Voldemort had a massive bug up his butt about Harry Potter.
No fewer than four times, the massively power full dark wizard had attempted to kill Harry, starting when he was just a baby. The interesting thing is that every time he had failed. According to their spies, Vordemort was practically foaming at the mouth about Harry's stubborn refusal to be killed, and so the Order has assigned guards to watch Harry during his summer.
A bitter part of the job was listening to the way the Dursley's treated him. When they spoke to him at all, every utterance was laced with insult and degradation. She had watched him working like a slave in the harsh summer sun. She had never actually seen them hit him, but it was plain they would like to. Having had a fair amount of time to study Harry's shirtless body, purely for the purpose of gathering evidence of course, she noticed several scars that could no be accounted for by his reported misadventures at school. It made her wonder what his life was like before they found out he was a wizard. What really grated was that Harry's guards were under strict orders not to interfere unless Harry was in mortal danger.
On this day she had been listening to the standard abuse and watching Harry do his chores. The first made her fume. The second ... well there were worse ways to spend a Thursday morning than watching a toned young body glisten with sweat. She drew the line at using the ministry issue observigoggles to peer through the wall and perv on the poor boy while he showered. Firmly setting the goggles aside she settled back to wait. It wasn't long before she fell asleep.
A piercing scream woke her from her nap. She jumped to her feet, snatched up the observigoggles and swiftly moved to observe the situation. Well, that was her plan anyway. In fact she lept up, tripped on the edge of her invisibility cloak and collapsed in a heap. She rolled around for a moment making her entanglement much worse, until she finally wiggled free, threw off the cloak and turned to see Vernon Dursley getting out of his car.
"Eep!" She dove to the ground and whipped the cloak back over her. Vernon paused and turned to peer closely in her direction. He seemed on the verge of coming over to investigate when renewed yelling turned his attention back to the house. He shook his head and went inside.
Tonks released the breath she had been holding. Another piercing scream rent the air. They screams seems to be coming from around the back, probably the kitchen. Remembering her mission, she grabbed the goggles and approached the house. She was positioned across the street, so she needed to cross to the front of the house and quickly work her way around to a position where the goggles could get her a look at what was going on.
As she reached the lawn, an incoherent shout of rage came from inside, followed by several loud crashes. "Screw Dumbledore," she thought, "I'm going in!" She gripped her wand and prepared herself to deal with whatever fresh horror the Dursley's had dared to commit against Harry.
She has taken one angry step forward when the door burst open and a very naked Harry Potter came flying out screaming at the top of her lungs. Alarmed, she took step back and promptly tripped again. It was a good thing she did because Vernon Dursley was only a few steps behind him, moving his considerable bulk at a very high rate of speed.
"Get back here you perverted freak! What the hell did you do to my wife!"
As fast as Vernon was, Harry was much faster. Years of being chased by Dudley and his gang saw to that. Frustrated, Vernon threw his briefcase. It landed well behind the fleeing boy and exploded, scattering very important papers everywhere.
Vernon bellowed in rage, his face an alarming shade of crimson. He looked around for something, anything to stop the boy. He saw his car. A manic grin split his face and he propelled his bulk toward the vehicle, scrambling obscenely in his pockets for the key.
Auror 3rd grade Nymphadora Tonks saw all of this and, in her professional opinion she realized two things. First, Vernon Dursley was a clear and present danger to her principle protectee, which under the rules of engagement she was given meant that she was authorized to hex the bloated walrus into the middle of next week to protect her charge. Second, once the immediate threat was dealt with, she needed to secure her protectee and ascertain what triggered the incident, which meant hunting down and interrogating a naked Harry Potter about what happened. The possibilities made her head swim. Thank goodness she remembered to pack handcuffs. All in all it was turning out to be a very good Thursday indeed.