Chapter 4: Kreacher
The next morning Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had a go at trying to interrogate Harry, who wouldn't say a thing about what had happened the previous evening. "I'm not allowed to talk about it, so let it go," he said as he filled up Hedwig's food and water. "Ugh!" said Ron, "You know if it was me I'd let you in on it!" "Maybe, but they made me promise not to say anything or they'd expel me from the Order," said Harry, "so chances are you wouldn't say anything if you were in my position." Ron weighed this carefully, "All right, maybe so, but I'm still mad about it all! Being left out like that! It's unfair!" "Oh let it go Ron," said Ginny, "he's not going to say so there's no use crying over spilled potion."
That day Mrs. Weasley assigned Ron to clean one of the upper most rooms, whereas Harry was supposed to take the attic. "Watch out for Kreacher, dear," said Mrs. Weasley, "he's up there hiding somewhere. As a matter of fact, maybe it'd be better if you and Ronald switched..." "It's all right, Mrs. Weasley, I'll do it," said Harry, looking for any excuse to get close to Kreacher and 'accidentally' kick him or hit him. He traipsed up the stairs slowly, holding a can of Anti-Doxy solution and a wastebasket that ate trash.
He opened the door slowly, waiting for Kreacher to appear, but he did not; he might be in one of the other rooms connected to the attic. Slowly, Harry began to clean the attic, starting first with some old relics Kreacher had clearly been collecting over the years. Tossing them casually into the wastebasket, he hardly noticed when the door shut itself.
And locked behind him.
He turned to see no one there, although he was already suspicious that Kreacher was now in the vicinity. "I know it's you Kreacher, so come on out and get what's coming to you," said Harry, now thinking about performing a Bat Bogey hex on him. No one appeared. He pulled out his wand slowly and walked around an old dresser with an inch of dust on it, "Come on Kreacher, come out here." He heard a shuffling behind him and turned to see Kreacher standing only feet away from him. "There you are," said Harry, "you traitorous murderer." Kreacher's eyes became slits of rage, "You is not Kreacher's master. You does not tell Kreacher what to do. Kreacher is not a murderer." "You are," hissed Harry, "you sold out your master you traitor! You sold him out and he died because of you! I should cut off your head just like your predecessors!"
Kreacher let out a gagging sound that Harry realized was his laugh, "Kreacher would like to join his parents on the wall. Kreacher doesn't mind. So long as traitorous master isn't here anymore. So long as Kreacher can stay with his real master." Harry knew he was referring to Mrs. Black, the portrait downstairs, but part of him suspected he was also referring to Voldemort. "Then how about I destroy your real master Kreacher? How about that?" he snapped, turning to the door with every intention of hexing Mrs. Black's portrait into oblivion. "I'll just jinx the portrait and hex her face off, how about it Kreacher? How about it?" he said, looking at him over his shoulder as he jerked on the doorknob. It wouldn't open. "Alohomora!" he said, the spell working perfectly; but the door would not open.
"You shall not touch Master," said Kreacher with fury, "you shall not harm her! Kreacher won't let the Mudblood touch her!" "Don't worry Kreacher," he said, turning back to the misshapen house elf, "I won't touch her. I'll just jinx her out of existence!" Kreacher let out a howl of fury and suddenly snapped his fingers; instantly the dust-laden dresser sprouted wings and teeth and began attacking Harry. "Immobulus!" shouted Harry, and the dresser fell silent.
But Kreacher wasn't finished, and soon it seemed as if every piece of furniture, curtain, and other items had sprouted fangs, and was attacking Harry at full speed. "Harry Potter is an evil Mudblood! A child of filth!" shouted Kreacher as he watched the furniture attack him, "Harry Potter is evil!" Harry let out a roar of anger as he began to hex and jinx everything, suddenly his rage pouring through his wand at lightning speed.
Harry shielded himself as a mirror flew off the wall and hit him hard enough to shatter pieces everywhere, several of them cutting his arms, "KREACHER! YOU TRAITOR!" he screamed, the only words he could think of saying. "YOU KILLED MY GODFATHER! YOU KILLED HIM WITH YOUR TRAITOROUS WORDS YOU FILTHY BEAST!" Several more pieces of furniture, including a renewed dusty dresser attacked him more frenzied than ever before; Kreacher's anger clearly was beginning to show. Suddenly Harry seemed to burst with anger, and his scar prickled; he felt like biting Kreacher but instead raised his wand and pointed at the ancient and horrible house elf, "Avada Kedavra!"
His wand let out only a wisp of green, then fell impotent; it hadn't worked. Kreacher laughed maniacally, "Mudblood thinks he can use Unforgivable Curses? You knows nothing! Kreacher's master can do them in her sleep!" Harry let out a roar of anger, then suddenly felt something bite him on the leg. He looked down to see a black Asp on the floor, and he let out a gasp of terror; he had been bitten by a lethal snake. It reared back angrily and hissed at Harry, then suddenly turned to Kreacher. Harry felt sick; he was going to die from the bite.
But then, as Harry watched in awe, the snake began to transform into an incredibly tall person that Harry suddenly recognized.
Snape.
He threw Harry a dirty look as he cast a spell on Kreacher that threw him against the wall then held him immobile, roots sprouting from it quickly to pin the house elf down. Kreacher screeched in anger, shouting for his master, and Harry was grateful for a moment, but then suddenly he was slammed against the wall himself. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING POTTER?!" Snape spat in his face, "YOU THINK USING THE UNFORGIVABLE CURSES IS SOMETHING TO BE TAKEN LIGHTLY?! YOU STUPID, STUPID BOY!" he shouted, his voice a roar of venom.
Harry suddenly felt as if he had come to his senses, "I-I-I'm sorry...I didn't...I just..." "SHUT UP POTTER! SHUT UP!" snarled Snape, "GET OUT OF HERE!" He let go of Harry, who had been pinned against the wall at least a foot off the ground, and he slumped to the floor, then quickly clambered to his knees and rocketed out the door, which he noticed had burst open because of Snape's anger. He ran all the way down the stairs, barely hearing Kreacher saying, "No, no, please don't..."
Harry came to a halt outside his room, panting hard, cold sweat running down his face. What had he been thinking using an Unforgivable Curse? The very same spell that had killed his parents! How could he, and against Kreacher, a mere house elf? He put his head in his hands with shame and shook his head rapidly. No, no, no...how could he have done it? But he had felt so angry, so outraged, so hateful, his scar prickling with venom...
And suddenly Harry knew why he had been so angry.
It wasn't him.
It was Voldemort.
That evening Harry tread his way carefully down to the kitchen where he found Snape waiting for him, everyone else having cleared off to give them time alone. Harry was almost afraid to sit down at the same table as him, but Snape commanded, "Sit." Harry sat down gingerly, avoiding Snape's gaze at all costs. Almost as if he were reading Harry's mind, he said, "Look at me Potter." Harry looked up into the two blackest orbs he had ever seen and almost looked away again, then knew he had to be strong and take his punishment. "I don't know where you get off thinking you can use an Unforgivable Curse," said Snape smoothly, clearly having recovered his temperament, "but I advise you never to do it again. I'm well aware of your hatred for the house elf Kreacher after Black's betrayal, but as an underage wizard you have no excuse whatsoever to use any of the Unforgivable Curses, and especially the Killing Curse. As your parents died by that curse, I find it almost unthinkable that you would use that one specifically against nothing but a house elf."
Harry nodded, head lowered, feeling more ashamed of himself than he'd ever been in his life. "Look at me Potter," said Snape again, and Harry felt obliged to look up. "The only reason I can think of that would cause you to resort to the Killing Curse is that the Dark Lord has once again begun to possess you. Whether it's true or not, that is my only substantial reasoning for your outrageous behavior. Should this be so, then perhaps we should start our Occlumency lessons as soon as possible." Harry nodded, "Yes, sir." "And incidentally Potter," he added, "I will be alerting Headmaster Dumbledore about this." Harry felt sick with fear, but knew it was the right thing to do. Snape sat back slowly, eyeing Harry with renewed venom, "Do you have anything to say for yourself, much less your irascible behavior?" Harry remained silent for a minute, then, "I have no excuse for what I did. But I think I know what happened. I was so angry at Kreacher and then suddenly I felt this urge to bite him, like a snake. I think that was Voldemort." "Do not say the Dark Lord's name, boy!" said Snape. Harry nodded, "I'm sorry sir. I that Vol-er, You-Know- Who was angry again, or maybe he was in his snake form or something, and I felt that again. Like I did last year. It was just this overwhelming urge to...to...bite Kreacher, and I felt like I was pulsing with hatred. Then I just...I tried to use...the...the Killing Curse. And I wish I'd never done it."
Snape seemed to analyze this information for a moment, then said, "Before you go to sleep tonight, you will clear your mind of all things. This is an order, Potter, not a request; you will do it. And I will know if you haven't. We'll start lessons tomorrow." Harry nodded, "Thank you sir."
Just then Hermione walked into the kitchen; apparently no one had told her to leave them undisturbed. "Oh. It's you," she said, glaring at Snape and picking an apple from the fruit bowl. Snape's mouth tightened, "I am your professor, and therefore you will always address me as professor or sir unless you want to face the consequences." "You're not my teacher yet, not until school starts again," she snapped, "and I don't expect to talk to you until then. Good day!" and she strode out of the kitchen with her nose in the air.
Harry would have been suppressing a laugh at any other time except for this one; things were too grim to be laughing at the moment. He was, however, wondering exactly what Hermione's problem was. Snape dismissed her without a second thought, and turned back to Harry, "I will be here tomorrow at seven o'clock. You had better be ready." He got up quickly and made to leave, when suddenly Harry said, "Sir?" Snape turned, "What?"
"I'm sorry."
Snape seemed only slightly mollified, "Be ready tomorrow night." And with one swift movement, he left the room and was gone.
The next morning Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had a go at trying to interrogate Harry, who wouldn't say a thing about what had happened the previous evening. "I'm not allowed to talk about it, so let it go," he said as he filled up Hedwig's food and water. "Ugh!" said Ron, "You know if it was me I'd let you in on it!" "Maybe, but they made me promise not to say anything or they'd expel me from the Order," said Harry, "so chances are you wouldn't say anything if you were in my position." Ron weighed this carefully, "All right, maybe so, but I'm still mad about it all! Being left out like that! It's unfair!" "Oh let it go Ron," said Ginny, "he's not going to say so there's no use crying over spilled potion."
That day Mrs. Weasley assigned Ron to clean one of the upper most rooms, whereas Harry was supposed to take the attic. "Watch out for Kreacher, dear," said Mrs. Weasley, "he's up there hiding somewhere. As a matter of fact, maybe it'd be better if you and Ronald switched..." "It's all right, Mrs. Weasley, I'll do it," said Harry, looking for any excuse to get close to Kreacher and 'accidentally' kick him or hit him. He traipsed up the stairs slowly, holding a can of Anti-Doxy solution and a wastebasket that ate trash.
He opened the door slowly, waiting for Kreacher to appear, but he did not; he might be in one of the other rooms connected to the attic. Slowly, Harry began to clean the attic, starting first with some old relics Kreacher had clearly been collecting over the years. Tossing them casually into the wastebasket, he hardly noticed when the door shut itself.
And locked behind him.
He turned to see no one there, although he was already suspicious that Kreacher was now in the vicinity. "I know it's you Kreacher, so come on out and get what's coming to you," said Harry, now thinking about performing a Bat Bogey hex on him. No one appeared. He pulled out his wand slowly and walked around an old dresser with an inch of dust on it, "Come on Kreacher, come out here." He heard a shuffling behind him and turned to see Kreacher standing only feet away from him. "There you are," said Harry, "you traitorous murderer." Kreacher's eyes became slits of rage, "You is not Kreacher's master. You does not tell Kreacher what to do. Kreacher is not a murderer." "You are," hissed Harry, "you sold out your master you traitor! You sold him out and he died because of you! I should cut off your head just like your predecessors!"
Kreacher let out a gagging sound that Harry realized was his laugh, "Kreacher would like to join his parents on the wall. Kreacher doesn't mind. So long as traitorous master isn't here anymore. So long as Kreacher can stay with his real master." Harry knew he was referring to Mrs. Black, the portrait downstairs, but part of him suspected he was also referring to Voldemort. "Then how about I destroy your real master Kreacher? How about that?" he snapped, turning to the door with every intention of hexing Mrs. Black's portrait into oblivion. "I'll just jinx the portrait and hex her face off, how about it Kreacher? How about it?" he said, looking at him over his shoulder as he jerked on the doorknob. It wouldn't open. "Alohomora!" he said, the spell working perfectly; but the door would not open.
"You shall not touch Master," said Kreacher with fury, "you shall not harm her! Kreacher won't let the Mudblood touch her!" "Don't worry Kreacher," he said, turning back to the misshapen house elf, "I won't touch her. I'll just jinx her out of existence!" Kreacher let out a howl of fury and suddenly snapped his fingers; instantly the dust-laden dresser sprouted wings and teeth and began attacking Harry. "Immobulus!" shouted Harry, and the dresser fell silent.
But Kreacher wasn't finished, and soon it seemed as if every piece of furniture, curtain, and other items had sprouted fangs, and was attacking Harry at full speed. "Harry Potter is an evil Mudblood! A child of filth!" shouted Kreacher as he watched the furniture attack him, "Harry Potter is evil!" Harry let out a roar of anger as he began to hex and jinx everything, suddenly his rage pouring through his wand at lightning speed.
Harry shielded himself as a mirror flew off the wall and hit him hard enough to shatter pieces everywhere, several of them cutting his arms, "KREACHER! YOU TRAITOR!" he screamed, the only words he could think of saying. "YOU KILLED MY GODFATHER! YOU KILLED HIM WITH YOUR TRAITOROUS WORDS YOU FILTHY BEAST!" Several more pieces of furniture, including a renewed dusty dresser attacked him more frenzied than ever before; Kreacher's anger clearly was beginning to show. Suddenly Harry seemed to burst with anger, and his scar prickled; he felt like biting Kreacher but instead raised his wand and pointed at the ancient and horrible house elf, "Avada Kedavra!"
His wand let out only a wisp of green, then fell impotent; it hadn't worked. Kreacher laughed maniacally, "Mudblood thinks he can use Unforgivable Curses? You knows nothing! Kreacher's master can do them in her sleep!" Harry let out a roar of anger, then suddenly felt something bite him on the leg. He looked down to see a black Asp on the floor, and he let out a gasp of terror; he had been bitten by a lethal snake. It reared back angrily and hissed at Harry, then suddenly turned to Kreacher. Harry felt sick; he was going to die from the bite.
But then, as Harry watched in awe, the snake began to transform into an incredibly tall person that Harry suddenly recognized.
Snape.
He threw Harry a dirty look as he cast a spell on Kreacher that threw him against the wall then held him immobile, roots sprouting from it quickly to pin the house elf down. Kreacher screeched in anger, shouting for his master, and Harry was grateful for a moment, but then suddenly he was slammed against the wall himself. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING POTTER?!" Snape spat in his face, "YOU THINK USING THE UNFORGIVABLE CURSES IS SOMETHING TO BE TAKEN LIGHTLY?! YOU STUPID, STUPID BOY!" he shouted, his voice a roar of venom.
Harry suddenly felt as if he had come to his senses, "I-I-I'm sorry...I didn't...I just..." "SHUT UP POTTER! SHUT UP!" snarled Snape, "GET OUT OF HERE!" He let go of Harry, who had been pinned against the wall at least a foot off the ground, and he slumped to the floor, then quickly clambered to his knees and rocketed out the door, which he noticed had burst open because of Snape's anger. He ran all the way down the stairs, barely hearing Kreacher saying, "No, no, please don't..."
Harry came to a halt outside his room, panting hard, cold sweat running down his face. What had he been thinking using an Unforgivable Curse? The very same spell that had killed his parents! How could he, and against Kreacher, a mere house elf? He put his head in his hands with shame and shook his head rapidly. No, no, no...how could he have done it? But he had felt so angry, so outraged, so hateful, his scar prickling with venom...
And suddenly Harry knew why he had been so angry.
It wasn't him.
It was Voldemort.
That evening Harry tread his way carefully down to the kitchen where he found Snape waiting for him, everyone else having cleared off to give them time alone. Harry was almost afraid to sit down at the same table as him, but Snape commanded, "Sit." Harry sat down gingerly, avoiding Snape's gaze at all costs. Almost as if he were reading Harry's mind, he said, "Look at me Potter." Harry looked up into the two blackest orbs he had ever seen and almost looked away again, then knew he had to be strong and take his punishment. "I don't know where you get off thinking you can use an Unforgivable Curse," said Snape smoothly, clearly having recovered his temperament, "but I advise you never to do it again. I'm well aware of your hatred for the house elf Kreacher after Black's betrayal, but as an underage wizard you have no excuse whatsoever to use any of the Unforgivable Curses, and especially the Killing Curse. As your parents died by that curse, I find it almost unthinkable that you would use that one specifically against nothing but a house elf."
Harry nodded, head lowered, feeling more ashamed of himself than he'd ever been in his life. "Look at me Potter," said Snape again, and Harry felt obliged to look up. "The only reason I can think of that would cause you to resort to the Killing Curse is that the Dark Lord has once again begun to possess you. Whether it's true or not, that is my only substantial reasoning for your outrageous behavior. Should this be so, then perhaps we should start our Occlumency lessons as soon as possible." Harry nodded, "Yes, sir." "And incidentally Potter," he added, "I will be alerting Headmaster Dumbledore about this." Harry felt sick with fear, but knew it was the right thing to do. Snape sat back slowly, eyeing Harry with renewed venom, "Do you have anything to say for yourself, much less your irascible behavior?" Harry remained silent for a minute, then, "I have no excuse for what I did. But I think I know what happened. I was so angry at Kreacher and then suddenly I felt this urge to bite him, like a snake. I think that was Voldemort." "Do not say the Dark Lord's name, boy!" said Snape. Harry nodded, "I'm sorry sir. I that Vol-er, You-Know- Who was angry again, or maybe he was in his snake form or something, and I felt that again. Like I did last year. It was just this overwhelming urge to...to...bite Kreacher, and I felt like I was pulsing with hatred. Then I just...I tried to use...the...the Killing Curse. And I wish I'd never done it."
Snape seemed to analyze this information for a moment, then said, "Before you go to sleep tonight, you will clear your mind of all things. This is an order, Potter, not a request; you will do it. And I will know if you haven't. We'll start lessons tomorrow." Harry nodded, "Thank you sir."
Just then Hermione walked into the kitchen; apparently no one had told her to leave them undisturbed. "Oh. It's you," she said, glaring at Snape and picking an apple from the fruit bowl. Snape's mouth tightened, "I am your professor, and therefore you will always address me as professor or sir unless you want to face the consequences." "You're not my teacher yet, not until school starts again," she snapped, "and I don't expect to talk to you until then. Good day!" and she strode out of the kitchen with her nose in the air.
Harry would have been suppressing a laugh at any other time except for this one; things were too grim to be laughing at the moment. He was, however, wondering exactly what Hermione's problem was. Snape dismissed her without a second thought, and turned back to Harry, "I will be here tomorrow at seven o'clock. You had better be ready." He got up quickly and made to leave, when suddenly Harry said, "Sir?" Snape turned, "What?"
"I'm sorry."
Snape seemed only slightly mollified, "Be ready tomorrow night." And with one swift movement, he left the room and was gone.