Eradicate

ih-RAD-i-keyt | verb

1: to remove or destroy utterly; extirpate

They were all dead. Every single one of them. Some had succumbed to blunt force trauma, others to poison gas. Hell, he had even speared one of them. The work had turned his stomach, but what choice did he have? It had been tasked to him by one who could not be refused. It was his responsibility, and his alone.

He closed his eyes and leaned back on the couch, trying to block the images of their bodies strewn everywhere. Their juices had coated the floor and the walls, streaks of color on the off-white paint. The ordeal had been traumatic, both mentally and physically. His muscles ached from the strain he had exerted on them, and he carefully placed his glass of firewhisky on the coffee table before stretching his arms over his head. He winced as his spine cracked a few times – his age must be catching up with him. He was much too old for this kind of wholesale slaughter anymore.

With a sigh, he slumped back to the cushions. His feet thumped onto the coffee table with two solid thuds. If she caught him with his feet on her coffee table, there would be hell to pay, but today? Today he just did not care. She would arrive soon, and she would expect a status report.

As though his thoughts had summoned her, the fireplace flared into life, and she stepped through into the living room. Brushing soot from her clothing, she eyed his propped feet with a raised eyebrow.

"Is it done?"

The words seemed to be a challenge. Had he done what was required of him? Unwilling to speak of it just yet, he bowed his head in the affirmative.

"Thank you," she said, dropping to couch beside him. "I'm sorry I asked it of you, but, you know. Those things were disgusting and could not be allowed to stay. How did it go?"

Silently, he reached for his whisky. Her eyes tracked the glass as he took a long swallow, preparing himself for the conversation to come. "It was gruesome."

She chuckled quietly. "Ever the drama queen, Severus."

"If not for the spell, things would have been much worse. As it is, I had to pull out the appliances to hunt down those attempting to hide from me."

Her eyes spoke of her concern. "You got them all?"

He nodded solemnly. "Every last one of them. I killed them all."

With a puff of relief, she sagged back into the couch. "Good. Now I can cook in peace." She turned her head to look at him. "Would you please take your feet off the table? I know where those socks have been today."

He grimaced, but did as she asked. Only for her would he make such sacrifices in his own home, but she was correct. There had simply been no other choice. The roaches had had to go.

A/N: I apologize that this one is so short, but I found it amusing. Severus would be so dramatic about clearing roaches out of the kitchen.