Disclaimer: No part of Harry Potter is mine to claim. Exciting, no?
Home
The walls are dark, covered in an unknown substance that drips down, oozing past pictures of the once perfect family. A lamp briefly flickers before going black, showing them to be a reddish brown color.
Harry walks past, not noticing the coppery smell that permeates everything. He doesn't falter as he steps over the shape of a body on the living room floor, exceptionally long neck twisted into an unnatural position.
He has to squeeze past the large form that blocks most of the doorway, and inadvertently brushes against on of the bloodied legs. The only reaction is a slight shiver, quickly silenced.
A pale green light shines in through the window, a remembrance of the skull that had hung over the cookie cutter house until mere moments before. It tints the kitchen a murky green. The white walls look sickly.
Harry briefly wants to throw up, but the feeling passes. He moves on.
When he finally reaches the stairs, he does not move up the rickety steps, but instead walks down the hallway to the right, his pace slowing for the first time.
He pauses at the small door partway down the hall, sparing not a glance for the severed hand that rests just in front of his left foot. As he turns the knob and opens the door, it is pushed out of sight.
There is no blood in the cupboard, only a thin layer of dust that coats everything in sight. The bed is still there, sheets looking as though they have not been changed since he last slept here all those years ago.
On a shelf above the bed there are some old toys, and Harry takes down a stuffed bear with one eye missing. On its bottom left paw, in faded blue marker, are the initials 'D.D.'
Harry sits on the bed and closes his eyes, knowing that, if only for this instant, he is finally home.