A SEQUENCE OF ALTERNATIVE EVENTS
WHO'S THE HALF-BLOOD NOW?
By MYRTLE THE TYRTLE
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CHAPTER TWO: SPINSTER'S END
Many miles away, a pleasantly well-fed young fox was idly chasing a passing butterfly in a cosy and peaceful green field. He danced over to the nearby river, in which flowed clear, crystal blue water. Fish were diving in an out of it in an almost picturesque way.
But them, with a very faint pop, a small, long nosed creature with large, bat-like ears appeared out of thin air on the edge of the river. The fox froze, wary eyes fixed upon this strange new phenomenon. The creature seemed to take its bearings, then set off with light, quick strides, his head only slightly taller than the long grass.
With a second and louder pop, another small creature materialised.
"Wait!"
The high-pitched cry startled the fox, now crouching almost flat in the undergrowth. It leapt up from its hiding place and up the bank. It emerged face to face with the creature.
"Oh, Kreacher, look at the cute little foxie! Who's a cute little foxie? You are! Yes, you are! Dobby does like you!"
The fox growled cautiously, and the creature – Dobby – backed away.
"OK, I'm coming now, Kreacher. Go away, now nice foxie." He turned hurriedly, and broke into a run. "Kreacher, wait!" The fox smiled, and went back down to the water. There was no need to chase the newcomer; he was plenty full already.
Dobby met his kinsman Kreacher at a railing separating the river from a street. He grabbed his arm. "Kreacher – wait – listen to Dobby!"
"Go back, fool of an elf!"
"Kreacher must listen to Dobby!"
"Kreacher has listened already. He has made his decision. Leave Kreacher alone!" Kreacher dashed through the railings and made his way up the street to a large house on the corner.
"He lives here, of all places? Filthy Muggle-loving blood traitor!" He walked up to the door and paused, hand ready to knock.
"Kreacher, no!"
But the elf did not heed the warning, and knocked on the door. Dobby had only just caught up, panting under his breath painfully, when the door opened.
"Master Bruce."
"You're late, Kreacher. But come in." A tall, thin man, face covered in shadows, led the elves through into a tiny sitting room, which had the feeling of a dark padded cell. The walls were completely covered in books, most of them bound in old black or brown leather; a threadbare sofa, an old armchair and a rickety table stood grouped together in a pool of dim light cast by a candle-filled lamp hung from the ceiling. The place had an air of neglect, as though it was not often inhabited.
Bruce gestured the elves towards the sofa, but neither sat down. "We cannot sit in the presence of the great Bruce Helliwell," stammered Kreacher.
"You will sit when and where I tell you to, Kreacher, or this shall not go ahead." Kreacher reluctantly sat down, followed by a more hesitant Dobby, who pulled his legs up to his chest and hugged himself tightly.
Helliwell did not sit; he turned on his heel and began to pace around the room. Suddenly, he froze. "They are coming! Make yourselves scarce!"
Following his every command, the elves used their magic to make themselves invisible. As they did this, Helliwell pulled a wand from his pocket. He pointed it at several points in the room, and they became instantly splattered with thick, red blood. Another wave of the wand resulted in several objects, including a grandfather clock, shattered and crumbled into pieces.
"Wormtail!" he called, as he crushed a packet of biscuits under his feet. A ratty, middle-aged man came running.
"Master called?"
"Yes, Wormtail. Go upstairs and make sure our… guest… is comfortable. We don't want her making any noise to distract our visitors."
The doorbell rang.
"They're here! Go!"
Wormtail turned and ran towards the stairs, while Bruce Helliwell transfigured himself into a large but under-stuffed raggedy armchair, just as an old man with a beard and spectacles led a youth with raven-black hair and glasses into the room.
"Oh dear. Oh dear, dear, dear."
"What's wrong, Professor?" Not too bright this one. That's why they had chosen him.
"Wands out, Harry. They may still be here… but… something's not right…" Frowning, the tall wizard paced his way up to the chair. He jabbed his wand in, and the chair cried, "Ouch!"
"Good evening, Bruce."
"Dumbledore! That hurt!" The chair was now a man, again.
"I am gravely sorry. But you did not return my owl."
"Oh, yeah, about that…"
"Will you be returning to Hogwarts this September?"
"Yes, yes, of course I will. Wouldn't miss it for the world."
"And yet you hide from me when I come to visit?" Dumbledore gave an amused smile. "I wonder if I might use your bathroom."
"Second on the left, down the hall."
Dumbledore left, and Helliwell moved closer to the boy, Harry.
"Hello, Harry. I must say, your eyes…"
"Like my mother's?"
Helliwell nodded. "Come over here so I can see better, in the light."
Harry reluctantly moved over, and Helliwell grabbed his right hand with his own. "Now, Kreacher!"
Kreacher reappeared and menacingly glared at Harry. "Master didn't want Kreacher. Master will get his comeuppance…"
"Harry!"
Harry spun around to look straight into Helliwell's eyes, and the older man applied Legilimency to him. Harry could not resist. With a weakened mind, it was now easier for Helliwell to apply the Imperio curse.
"Harry James Potter!" spat Helliwell. "You are now under my command, and will make an Unbreakable Vow. Kreacher shall be our Bonder!"
"No, Harry Potter, do not do it!" cried Dobby, rematerializing, but it was no use. The boy could not hear him.
Harry and Helliwell lowered themselves onto their knees. Kreacher picked Harry's wand out of his back pocket, stood over the kneeling wizards and placed the tip of the wand on their linked hands.
The elf spoke, "Will you, Harry, fulfil the task given to Bruce Helliwell by the Dark Lord?"
"I will."
"And will you, whenever you hear the words 'stop it, you fool!" go into a trance and move to carry out the aforesaid task?"
"I will."
"And if you should fail in your task, will you purge your soul with the greatest and most powerful curse known to wizardkind, the Avada Kedavra."
"I will."
Red flames shot out the end of the wand, and encircled the hands like a red fiery snake. They extinguished themselves and the elves regained their invisibility just as Dumbledore came into the room again.
"Ready to go, Harry?"
Harry stood, shakily, unaware of what he had just done. "Coming, sir."
The pair left in silence.
When they had gone, Helliwell said, "Dobby, please go upstairs and find the man known as Wormtail. Tell him you want "the treatment"." He raised his wand, and Dobby found he could not resist.
"Come Kreacher. We have work to do." The wizard and elf also left. The room was now quiet.
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In an upstairs bedroom, Professor Minerva McGonagall was bound, gagged and lying on a bed. Wormtail was standing over her with a greedy look on his ratty face, and a house-elf was at the door looking thoroughly disgusted.
"You shall not harm Harry Potter's Gonagall!" cried the elf in a squeaky voice. In a flash of light, McGonagall's restraints were on Wormtail.
"Thank you, Dobby," sniffed the professor. "But do not leave yet, I have an Unbreakable Vow to make with this traitor before he leaves my house forever!" she cackled wildly. "Sorry, I've always wanted to do that."
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A/N: Sadly, this is the end of the chapter. Quite possibly the longest thing I have ever written! Aren't you impressed? If yes, review. If no, review and tell me what I can do to improve this.
Will you, humble reader, watch over this story and review it every chapter until the end? And will you read the other stories located on the userpage of this author and review them too?
Remember, if you break the unforgivable vow, you die.
:-) MYRTLE (-: