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Author's Note: Thank You people who reviewed my story. More comments are always welcome.
The Basement
By Marz
Chapter 2: My First Almost Murder
"I know you're there. I can hear you whispering." He had been walking around me for the past hour, it seemed like, muttering in a low voice that I could not quite make out. This was my first attempt to speak to him. To my surprise he answered, only 'he' wasn't Sirius Black.
"It thinks Kreacher cares if Kreacher is heard," said a deep croaking voice. I think it was to my left. "Kreacher does not hide himself from the muggle trash The Master drags down here. If my poor mistress knew what was allowed into her very own home, oh how she would weep!"
"Kreacher is it? Listen for a second alright?" I said. The voice got quiet so I assumed I had its attention. "You obviously don't want me here, and neither does your mistress right? So just untie me and I'll leave. You'll never see me again I promise."
"It thinks it can out smart Kreacher, but Kreacher won't let it out. Kreacher has been ordered not to touch the boy the Master left here, and Kreacher knows his place. Kreacher is a respectable house elf."
That threw me for a second, as the only other house elf I'd met had an annoyingly high and squeaky voice. I suppose the thing walking around me in the dark could have been lying about being an elf, but that is about the stupidest thing you could pretend to be, so I guessed it was telling the truth. The house elf I'd met before, Dobby, he'd told me what an elf could and couldn't do, so I tried to reason with Kreacher again.
"You don't have to touch me to let me out," I said. "You only need to touch the rope and the chair, and then I'm gone. You won't have to worry about me upsetting your mistress, and you won't be disobeying."
"The muggle filth is right, Kreacher was only ordered not to touch the boy…"
I heard his foot steps coming towards me and I thought I'd talked my way out of it. Then the elf gave the chair a hard shove and I crashed side ways onto the floor, still tied up. My head bounced off the wood and my glasses clattered away. It didn't hurt that badly, but it didn't do my overly full bladder any good. I thought I'd burst a kidney. I inhaled to yell at the stupid elf but I got a mouth full of dust bunnies, so all I could do was cough. The damn elf walked around me again chuckling.
"Master did not say Kreacher could not touch the boy's glasses…" I heard the little beast smashing the lenses. "Master did not say Kreacher could not take the boy's shoes." There was a sharp tug on my left foot and the shoe slid off.
"Quit it!" I gasped between coughs. The elf continued to mutter and laugh as it took my other shoe. Then it went quiet for a while. I suppose it was thinking.
"Kreacher is cold. Master did not say Kreacher could not start a fire." All I could think was oh no.
"Master did say that Kreacher could not go outside, but where will poor Kreacher get fire wood?" Oh No.
"Master did not say Kreacher could not burn the old chair in the basement." No. No. No. No. NO!
The elf came towards me with slow shuffling steps. "Hey, come on Kreacher!" I tried to scoot the chair away form him but I couldn't get any leverage. "I'm certain 'don't set me on fire' was implied when he said 'don't touch me.'" The steps grew closer. "What did I ever do to you?"
The steps stopped in front of my face and a blue flame jumped into being in the palm of the elf's hand. It took a second for my eyes to adjust to the light. The elf was tiny and bent over and bald, but he had bushels of hair growing out of his ears. He looked down at me as if I were something he found between his toes.
"Muggle trash thinks it can trick Kreacher." The elf walked around behind me, and I couldn't turn far enough to see it. I could hear the crackle of the flames clearly enough though, and I could smell the wood starting to catch.
"Stop it! Stop it! That's crazy. Please put it out! STOP!"
I was yelling at the top of my lungs then, so I'm not too surprised that I didn't hear Black coming into the basement. Kreacher didn't hear him, and I think he was so wrapped up in his little BBQ that he didn't see him coming either. He only took notice when Black used my wand to fire a curse at him. It was a red light. I didn't see what it did, but I heard the elf land. With another wave of the wand Black put out the fire, and we were left in the dark again.
Black didn't make a sound. For a second I thought he'd left again, but then his hand brushed my arm and I yelled, another one of those incoherent "Gah!" noises. I think my vocabulary reverts back to infancy when I'm scared. Black picked up the chair, with me in it, and set it upright again.
"Are you hurt?" asked a rasping voice from right next to my ear. I shook my head no. I was sure he was standing right next to me. I couldn't see him, but there was a smell, like a wet dog, hanging in the air to my left.
"I have to go to the bathroom," I said.
There was a long silence. Suddenly his hand was on my right arm. I jumped but didn't yell that time. It took him ten minutes to untie all the ropes. He grabbed my elbow and pulled me to my feet. My legs were entirely pins and needles, so I fell over.
"Legs are asleep," I added "Sorry." a second later just to be safe. Instead of waiting for my legs to start functioning again, he grabbed me around the chest and dragged me across the basement to some stairs. I made a pathetic effort to carry my own weight and keep up with him, but my legs didn't wake up till we got the door at the top.
Black said "Alohamora"
The door swung open. There was a faint blue light seeping in between heavily curtained windows at the end of the hall. I could barley see the furniture, but it didn't cause Black any problems with navigation. We must have been in a mansion because it took forever to get to a bathroom. We must have gone through ten different hallways. When we finally got there he opened the door, looked inside, then shoved me in, and closed it behind me.
It was pitch black in that room as well. There were no windows. I was feeling around for a light switch when a candelabra on the toilet tank flared to life on its own. I made use of the facilities and then turned on the sink. I hoped Black would take me for an obsessive hand washer while I looked around. The only vent in the room was too small for even an elf to escape through. There was cabinet under the sink, but the only thing in it was a spider the size of a cat. I tugged on the mirror above the sink and it swung out ward, revealing a recessed medicine cabinet. It was filled with dusty old bottles, but I moved them aside. It was all the way in the back of the cabinet.
It was old and probably worth a lot of money. It even had one of those leather straps with it, so you could sharpen it between shaves. I took the straight razor out and tucked it in my right side pants pocket. I was just closing the cabinet when the door burst open.
Black was starring at me, and I froze. "What are you doing?" he rasped.
"I was looking for soap, there wasn't any on the…" I trailed off. Without my glasses it was difficult to decipher his expression, but I thought he looked scared.
"You look like him," he said. He took a step towards me. "You look just like James."
I didn't see that one coming. My brain froze up for a second. I'd never mentioned the names of my parents to him. I decided playing dumb was my best bet, as it wouldn't require much effort.
"Who's James?" I asked.
Black took another step towards me and I backed up against the bath tub. He was at least a foot taller then me.
"You don't know? You don't know." He started shaking his head. "You don't know James and Lily. They died for you. Remus? Do you know him? You don't know me…" Black was getting angry then. His voice was growing louder and wavering as if he hadn't spoken above a whisper in years.
I just shook my head. He took another step towards me so he was nearly standing on my feet. He reached for me, like he was going to grab my shoulders and shake me. I leaned back, lost my balance, and toppled into the tub. The razor cut through the inside of my pocket and stabbed me in the leg. I tried to keep eye contact, so he wouldn't look down and see blood seeping through my pants.
My curiosity finally got the better of me, though it didn't entirely overcome fear. An escaped murderer, with magic powers, who knows my father, you'd have asked too. I'm glad I had a chance to pee first though.
"Who are you then?" I asked.
He just starred down at me, as if I'd asked him for the square root of fifty-seven. His forehead wrinkled up in concentration. His eventual answer must have made some kind of sense to him. When he spoke again his voice was steady and intense, though his gaze was fixed on the wall above me.
"Betrayed. I'll kill him. I will kill Peter."
I just stared up at him, nodding politely as if this was a completely reasonable and eloquent response to my question. I wasn't sure if I should question him further or try to remain inconspicuous, you know, blend in with all those other guys with their feet hanging out of the bathtub. My leg was starting to throb where the razor was stabbing it, but I didn't dare reach for it with Black so close.
I managed not to yell when he lifted be out of the tub by the shirt front. He grabbed my left arm and pulled me into the hall way. He was on the opposite side of the knife pocket. I didn't think I'd get a better chance then that. I let my left foot drag a bit and got out of step with him. He got a bit ahead of me and I kicked him as hard as I could in the side of the knee.
He fell, but he didn't let go of my arm. I landed on top of him, my knee slamming down on his chest. I had him pinned. I don't brag. I don't like attention all that much really, but I've never met anyone quicker, in the hand eye coordination sense any way, then me. I had the razor against his throat before he could even think of fighting back.
The hallway was dark, but his face was still visible. He went from looking insane and angry to insane and sad. He started to reach for the blade.
"Don't," I said. I pressed a little. It must have been the sharpest razor blade ever, or I was more nervous then I thought, but he winced and immediately blood welled up around the metal. It was so dark the blood didn't look red. It looked black and oily and strange. I was twice as scared then as I was in the basement, and couldn't figure out why. My hand started shaking like crazy. The bleeding got worse and Black just looked at me.
I could think in my head, all I have to do is pull the razor across his neck, just once, very fast and I can leave and it will be over. I pictured it, and I almost threw up on him. I could feel his heart hammering under my knee, feel him struggle to breath with my weight on top of him. He's killed people before. I tried telling myself that. It didn't work. He reached for the razor again.
"Move and I'll kill you!" my voice broke when I said that, but he froze. To be honest I'm more of a runner then a fighter, and I thought I'd stick to what I knew.
"You stay there! You just stay on the floor! If you try to get up I'll cut you open!" I shouted. He just looked at me.
I jumped back and away from him. I had the knife pointed at him as if it were my wand. He probably had my wand in his pocket, but I didn't try to go back for it. I should have gotten it first thing, but I was shaking and I had to move. I turned and ran.
Parents are supposed to tell their kids "don't run with scissors". I think "don't run through a haunted house while brandishing a straight razor" is covered under that topic as well, but as I said before I wasn't thinking too clearly.
I looked for a door, a window, any way out, but I must have been in very center of that house. I knocked into tables and I head pottery smash but I didn't look back. I came to a dead end and had to double back. I was running down another long hall way when a coat rack literally stuck its foot out and tripped me. I put my hands out to catch myself. I forgot about the razor. It didn't hurt all that much when it happened. I was sort of stunned as I got back to my feet, then something hot and wet dribbled over my lip. I brushed at my face and it started to sting horribly.
I looked for the razor and saw the handle sticking out of under an old wardrobe. As I reached for it the wardrobe burst open and a piece of cloth wrapped around my neck. I threw all of my weight backwards and there was a tearing sound. The cloth loosened for a moment and I threw it to the floor. In the near pitch black I saw a long sleeve shirt slither away, back into the wardrobe. The door closed itself a second later. I left the razor and ran into the next room I saw. As I turned and shut the door behind me I saw that huge black dog trotting up the hallway towards me. I grabbed a fancy carved chair and jammed it up under the knob.
I went to the window and pulled the heavy drapes back. Something tinny and chittering flew out of them, and I slapped it aside. I could see a street out there, with an ordinary street lamp, and a car driving by. It was one of those windows where you slide up the bottom half to open it. I tried to push the frame up but it wouldn't budge. Panicked, I felt the top of the frame for the latch, but there wasn't one. The door knob rattled and there a loud thump as Black beat at the door.
I punched the glass as hard as I could. There was a snapping noise and my fingers were in agony. The glass hadn't even cracked. I was making funny little "ah" noises then. Not really crying, but I couldn't shut myself up. There was a fire place in the room. I ran to it and looked up the chimney, but it was too narrow. The door rattled again. I grabbed up a fire poker and rushed to the window, slamming the poker with all my might.
It bounced back with a resounding clang and hit me in the shoulder and I fell over. I'm lucky it wasn't my face. It still stunned me for a second though. There was another thump and the door cracked in the center. I rushed to the window. There was a little old man walking up the street with a little white dog. I pounded my fists on the window. He could not have been more then twenty feet away.
"HELP! CALL THE POLICE!" I bellowed as loud as I could. The old man didn't even turn. "HELP, PLEASE! OVER HERE! LOOK!" Not even the dog would look at me though. I could hear the door splintering behind me. I grabbed up the poker and took another swing at the window, to no effect. I was still shouting at the top of my lungs but the old man didn't look. The poker slid from my numb fingers as I looked behind me. The fancy chair lay on its side. The door was in pieces on the floor. My heart was roaring in my ears.
Something touched my arm.