Warning: HP/SS, JKR gets credit. Its been brought to my attention that this should be an R rating… Do you all agree?
Green Apple
By WittchWay
Dudley hoisted the cricket bat to his shoulder and followed Harry to the front door of the old house. His eyes focused on the silver serpent knocker that graced the center of the front door, ignoring chipped paint and tarnish door handles.
Harry stopped them on the stone steps, "When we enter keep quiet and don't touch anything. This is a wizards home… the most ordinary looking thing could be charmed." Harry didn't want to explain the screaming portrait of Mrs. Black nor have to explain any other possibly charmed, possessed, hexed item. He wasn't even sure why he had given in and allowed his cousin to come with him.
Harry reached for the door touching the palm of his hand to it and stepped back.
A loud series of metallic clicks and a chain rattled as the door swung open, the street lights behind them casting an eerie shadow upon the entrance hall. Harry Potter's eyes darted quickly around the room, the old fashioned gas lamps that lined the hall were lit casting an orangish glow on the threadbare carpet and peeling wallpaper. Dudley entered behind him, nearly touching him, the cricket bat raised in defense of what ever was within.
Harry gently closed the door, "Follow me and keep quiet."
He moved swiftly down the hall and then down the stairs that led to the basement kitchen. It was the far cupboard he sought. The one with the water boiler in the corner, the one that housed Kreacher, the elf that had conspired against the most noble house of Black. A House-elf that betrayed Sirius's trust. A house-elf that is a danger to the Order of Phoenix… to the side of the light.
But Harry was going to take care of that. He was going to make sure Kreacher would never, ever, betray another living soul…
Harry was down the set of wooden steps and to the door where the threat lived beneath the water heater but no more, tonight he would learn his rightful place, tonight he would die for his treachery.
"When I open the door I'll grab it and you hit it on the head with the bat." Harry whispered.
Dudley wanted to ask what exactly he was hitting on the head with the cricket bat but his cousin had already thrown open the door was grabbing at a ball of blankets and towels. A high pitched squeal sounded actively through the room, cursing and sputtering.
Dudley backed up as Harry grabbed the ankles of strange looking… dog? He had no idea what else it could be. Lapping large ears, a snout nose, large watery eyes. Harry held it upside down by stick looking legs, his school boot crushing the hand of one thin arm, the other arm flailed wildly out at the side grabbing at anything it could.
"Hit it D…Hit it." Harry shrieked.
Dudley raised the bat fearfully, whimpering, wishing he had never come to this horrid dark house.
But before he had a chance to take a swipe at the thing it twisted sinking its long fingernails in to Harry's leg, he could feel blood draw to the surface beneath his jeans. Harry jerked its feet upward catching Kreachers' struggling leg in the face, giving himself a split lip. Gasping Harry stepped back, his leg burning, blood pouring from his lip. With a shudder he tossed the treasonous monster from him.
Kreacher landed at the foot of the old wooden stairs, he rose on shaky feet to a hunchback position, his arm out stretched before him, the elderly elf panted slightly, "half-blood…and a muggle aren't welcome in my mistresses house." he hissed, turning his back on them as if nothing had happened and moved slowly up the old stairs back to the main floor.
"Bastard….traitor, murderous bastard." Harry growled shaking with anger, he ran for the steps and bust through the door pulling the knife as he did so. The silver blade caught the flickering light of the gas lamps, Harry strode down the hall, with murderous intent and focus. A lethal gleam in his darkening green eyes. He would not leave this house with out the death he had come here to commit. He would avenge his godfathers death if it was the last thing he did. He would kill the one that had betrayed Sirius, had betrayed them all. He would kill Kreacher, the evil raged little house-elf.
Harry tackled the creature around the middle slamming them both to the ground. Sliding on the threadbare rugs they slammed loudly into an umbrella stand in the shape of a trolls foot, the dark moth eaten curtains on the side wall sprang open. Shrieks from Mrs. Black echoed down the hall, "children of filth, horrid little traitors marring the noble house of Black…"
But Harry didn't care, he ignored it all, "Dudley" he screamed over the portraits racket, watching his cousin skirting slowly past the open curtains and the screaming spitting portrait.
"Come here," Harry commanded, his knee in the back of the wailing house-elf, "Sit on him, hold his arms down… I want him to see me kill him…I want him to see it was I, a Half-blood ending his life."
Shaking Dudley dropped the cricket bat and knelt down next to his cousin, he just wanted to go home, he wished this was a horrible dream and he would wake at any minute. The blood on his cousins lip, the bloodcurdling screams from a portrait… a portrait… portraits were suppose to be silent, lifeless things.
Dudley sniveling he tried not to notice the shine of snakes through out the house … every where snakes, serpent chandlers, door handles…door knobs. What the hell kind of place was this? What type of people did his cousin get involved with? Perhaps his parents were right… that his cousin, that Harry Potter was a freak, along with those just like him.
Whimpering Dudley climbed on to the screaming, fighting body of the house-elf, holding the arms down, he cried out as the thing, this horrid twisted ugly little thing started banging its head on the floor, shrieking obscenities, cursing them.
His cousin had a look on his face that scared him, a look that was as dark and evil as this contaminated house. He didn't even know what he was doing here, again wishing he could just go home.
Harry Potter moved to the head of the elf, taking its balding head between his knees he pressed the knife to the throat of the soon to be dead house-elf.
"Harry," Dudley whined, he nodded upward as his cousin looked to him.
Harry turned and looked over his shoulder, professor Snape stood in the looming darkness of the hallway. Only the shadow of his pale face shown in the night, he lowered his wand as he got a glimpse of Potters face. He moved swiftly forward them his robes rising and billowing around him.
"Is it one of them… those things from last summer." Dudley gagged raising off of the house-elf, ready to run.
"NO," He shrieked, "Its just my professor, don't let go." He held on to the front of his cousins shirt, "Don't move." he growled.
Snape stood over them surveying the scene playing out before him, a large muggle boy he didn't know sat on the body of the Black family house-elf, Potter had its small head between his legs, a knife to his throat.
Snape looked down at the shrieking creature, yes he had heard about what had happen just a month ago, the elf injuring the hippogriff Buckbeak to distract Sirius Black. Lying to Harry Potter, causing the boy to do something foolish and hap hazard the Gryffindor had run to save the day yet again…only it had been a trick. The elf had betrayed Potter… there for betraying Sirius Black… causing Blacks death.
It didn't matter that Black hadn't stayed put like he should have. It didn't matter that he had run to save his godson… it was the elf that had run to the Malfoy's spilling secrets but which secrets ones no one really knew. Yes this house-elf deserved death, it was a threat to them all. Its death was the discussion for many Order meetings, causing many arguments to rise up about the elf and its behavior. Of course Snape had been for its death. Not only for its betrayal but to simply put it out of its pining misery.
Snape looked down its long nose at Potter. The boy did not look well, dark circles under his eyes, though his eyes were bright and shiny at this moment, the adrenaline pumping for what he was about to do, no doubt he would crash later. He was thinner then usual, sickly thin. Pale and just a tad bit dirty looking, unkempt, unwashed.
Snape smirked, all the tell tale signs of a tired mind, a mind struggling with its thoughts, with its existence.
He had been there.
Snape rested his black boot on the forehead of the elf, ceasing its struggle, its head banging and its silence, "Make it a clean cut Potter….one swift hard movement," He whispered.
Harry blinked, looking up at his professor, his hand twitched. He hadn't expected Snape to be here, hadn't expected anyone to be here… and yet here he was. Another on his list. His mind raced to the notebook within his bag, could he possibly check off two tonight. Did he even dare?
Harry forced himself to remain calm. Forced himself to finish the task at hand…
He let go of the elf and crawled to the side opposite Snape's foot and positioned the knife… it was a much better angle to kill.
There was no hesitation, there was no flinching, the knife cut clean through skin and brittle bone.
Snape dropped his foot away as the struggle ended, he grabbed the arm of the large blond boy jerking him to his feet, "house-elf's blood is poisonous," he remarked. Potter scrambled back, squatting as the dark red blood poured from the gaping hole where the head had once sat, the blood pooled around the sole of his boots.
He watched in morbid fascination as the blood clotted suddenly and started to turn to a gel like substance instantly.
The wide eyes of the house-elf hung open and watery looking, lifeless. Harry grabbed the elf by its bat like ears with it white tufts of hair poking out. Smiling Harry walked past a shaking cousin and a indifferent professor to the stairs that led to the second floor. There a row of old plaques with smallish heads lined the wall. The heads all descendents of Kreacher the last of the house-elf's that had served the noble and most ancient house of Black.
Harry could help but note the irony, the last elf, the last Black… it hurt something fierce in his chest. A dull aching pain, he was not going to acknowledge.
Harry looked down the line of heads, the last an empty base with a gold hook in the center. Harry held a ear in each hand and with a wet suction noise he planted the head right on the base…completing the line.
Harry stared at the head, the traitor, the cause of Sirius's dead. No longer a threat to those within the Order, to those that Harry cared about. Harry reached up a pale shaking hand and shut the elf's eyes.
He looked a final time at the face of the elf and turned facing Snape.
Snape stood at he foot of the stairs his one arm resting casually on the banister, "Who's the boy?" he nodded toward the scene behind him.
"My cousin," Harry whispered.
"You want me to alter his memory of tonight?"
"No…"
"Come here let me clean you up." Snape raised his wand, casting a heeling charm on Potters lip and the purple bruise now raising on the boys face before he could even protest.
Harry didn't react to the slight burn that usually follows such charms, he simply lifted the hem of his pants, where Kreacher had scrapped his leg earlier. Snape cast another spell causing the blood to disappear and the cuts to scab over and vanish as well.
"How did you get here?"
"Took the knights bus."
Snape nodded, walking back toward the headless body.
Harry followed in silence, looking around Snape to where his knife lay in the circle of drying blood. Did he dare? His hand twitched.
"Potter," Snape sighed, running his thin finger over his lips, "I'll take care of the remains. You better head back home. Members of the Order will be arriving soon."
Harry wanted to protest but he also didn't want to deal with the Order just yet. He walked quickly around Snape an picked up his cleaver by the handle as he did so Snape cast a quick cleaning charm on it.
Harry nodded, there would be other opportunities to get Snape. He knew where the man was after all. No need to be hasty and to get caught and let his summers planning got o waste.
Harry placed the knife in his bag that had been kicked to the side and pulled it on to his back and stood, pulling his cousin along with him.
"What will you tell them?" he looked at Snape.
Snape smirked, "That the head was there when I arrived."
Harry didn't quite believe that and didn't think the Order would either but accepted it and turned to leave his cousin exiting the house first.
As he moved himself through the front door Snape's hand came to rest on his shoulder, he turned looking back at the man. Nearly a head taller then him.
Snape said nothing, just looked down at him with his piercing dark eyes. His pale hand drifted to the curve of the boys neck and caressed lightly. Harry shuddered at the touch, no one had ever touched him with such familiarity.
The fingers drifted to his cheek and then to the wisps of sweat drenched hair that clung to his forehead. Cold finger touched his scar for just a moment and then were gone. The spell of warmth and touches of pale fingers and dark eyes were no more. He was suddenly on the doorstep. The door closed with only the sound of his cousin retching on the street curb.
TBC
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