On the first day of Hols Harry found himself waist deep in mad doxies, thanks to the Gryffindor duo complaining that he didn't have chores after Molly Weasley had woken them to do a little tidying up before Christmas that Saturday. For that reason Harry found himself sleepily pressed into duty de-doxying the curtains. The doxies weren't pleased at all with that idea and they made it perfectly clear when they swarmed Harry after the first spray.
Daniel and Ron weren't doing too well with their draperies either. In fact, to Harry they looked like they were losing the battle. Harry wiped the back of his forehead and wondered how Sirius did all of this without his built-in wizard slaves. Kreacher was utterly useless as far as house elves go. He not only had an aversion to cleaning it seemed but was pretty far around the bend too.
The mean spirited elf seemed to like him though and that's all that mattered. The elf brought him a cool drink when he was parched from all the doxycide in the air. Harry of course still checked for poison, but so far the elf hadn't done anything more nefarious than grumble discontentedly.
The adults were tackling a few other things around the house. Apparently Sirius had a chizpurfle infection in the guests' bathrooms. They were burning through Lily's patience at the same rate they ate her hair potions. Harry had a suspicion about how they got there in the first place as he watched Kreacher moan and yammer about 'filthy blood' throughout the day, but there was nothing to prove he had done anything.
Harry sprayed another batch of doxies in their faces, grateful for the protection his glasses offered him from overspray. There was no such thing as over kill when it came to applying doxycide to doxies. Their sharp tiny fingernails were killer. He had the scratches on his hands and face to prove it.
"Ow! Bloody menace!" Ron yelped, dropping his doxy spray to grapple with one of the venomous creatures. "Get off!"
Harry spared the redhead a glance, unable to look for long because the inhabitants of his drapery had banded together and were flying at him in formation, their black hairy bodies blurring against each other so that he couldn't get a lock on a single one. In desperation, Harry let loose with his spray, taking care to back up several paces while they flew through the poisonous storm.
Several dropped to the ground diminishing the group to only a few futile fliers. Harry grimaced and kept spraying, until the last three had dropped motionlessly to the ground. He flicked his hand at the little bodies and banished them into the rubbish sack near his brother.
Ron had beaten his doxy to death but the green tinge to his face told Harry he'd soon be in need of the antidote to the pest's noxious venom. Daniel was darting back over to the clothe covered sofas to grab it when the doxies from Ron's curtain let out a high pitched cheer and zoomed out in droves. Ron stumbled backwards and fell down with a yelp.
By then Daniel had returned and was spraying haphazardly at the zealous doxies. Ron was bitten twice more before Harry joined in and with great enthusiasm hosed the creatures off of Ron. The redhead reeked of the doxycide and his green face nearly turned puce before Daniel managed to unscrew the cap and pour liberal amounts of the antidote over the wounds.
"Oh man, you look bad," Daniel chortled as the color slowly returned to Ron's face. "I say the doxies won the round, mate."
"Says you," Ron groused indignantly, standing up. "I had the little blighters!"
"Sure you did," Harry retorted dryly, returning to his curtain for inspection. It hung limply and very damp.
"Who asked you, carrot top," Ron replied with a glower, eyeing Harry's red stripe as he picked up his spray.
"That cuts me," Harry said, thumping his chest, "right here." He rolled his eyes and turned his back on the two boys.
He shook the curtain, checking for any remaining doxies. Several fell down stunned or dead from the poison. Harry scooped them up and deposited them with the rest in the rubbish pile. Ron was giving him the evil eye, but Harry cheerfully ignored the Gryffindor and ran his hand mockingly though his hair as he said, "Well I'm all through."
"Your brother's a show off git," Ron grumbled loudly as he and Daniel resumed the perilous task of de-doxying the drapes.
"Sticks and stones, Weasel," Harry called back, shutting the door to the room.
If he was to be stuck with those two for the entire holidays, he was damn sure going to enjoy it. Getting a rise out of Ron was one way to do that, well at least until a better diversion came along. Perhaps he could work on his Occlumency skills for the time being. He still had trouble getting to the fleshy floor of his brain. He got to the falling point but with out fail something would distract him at a crucial moment.
He passed a silent Molly who was carrying a plate of sandwiches and two chilled pumpkin juices. Harry paused, watching her bring the tray into the other room and heard Ron's whoop of delight. Sighing with disgust, he headed for the stairs and climbed down a level to the kitchen feeling a bit peckish himself.
Kreacher appeared silently before him at the base of the stairs and held aloft a cheese and tomato sandwich. Startled, Harry accepted it, only to be surprised again when a cup of Earl Gray tea was thrust upon him.
"Er… thank you, Kreacher," Harry said, retreating a few paces up the stairs.
"The snake boy is talking to me. Kreacher wonders how it feels to be the brother of the one who stopped the Dark Lord. Kreacher would kill brother if it was him."
Harry stopped his retreat and stared at the dirty house elf. "What do you know about me, Kreacher?"
"Snake boy is still talking to me," the elf muttered, slowly withdrawing back down the stairs. "What would the Mistress say if she knew that?" he paused to considered. "She would probably say that the book snake boy is looking for is with the binned because nasty blood traitor is thinning the best books from the Most Noble Black Library."
"Right, goodbye Kreacher," Harry said going back upstairs and detouring to the front door of Grimmauld Place.
In the hallway, between the troll leg umbrella stand and the thankfully quiet Mrs. Black, were several rubbish bags chuck full of dark artifacts that Lily and Molly were adamant about keeping out of the hands of their children. Sirius had readily agreed, having before been too unmotivated by the idea of the sheer amount of dark objects the house contained a statement Harry heartily agreed with. Why there were aggressive daggers, sinister music boxes, choking robes, werewolf claws, and ominous looking potions just amongst the binned.
Harry quickly located the newest bag filled with books from the Black library and sorted through them. Several titles on the dark arts looked interesting to Harry and he shrunk them, hiding them in his robes. Then he came to the one Kreacher was obviously referring to as it was written in Parseltongue. He held in his hand, §Slippery Friends and Parselmouths by Celestial Gaunt.§ The author's last name put her in a long line of purebloods that Harry knew to be both the descendants of Salazar Slytherin and highly infamous for their ability to produce Parselmouths.
Harry secured the book and hurriedly climbed the stairs to his room to eat his lunch and ponder just how worried he should be that Kreacher knew about his Animagus form and being a Parselmouth. Was the house elf an enemy? If not an enemy could he even be trusted? He seemed to be helping him more than hindering him. But the old elf didn't like anybody, least of all muds, and he was at least half-mud. So the real question, he supposed, was to what end was Kreacher helping him?
He waved his wand over the food and let out a relieved sigh when it was as uncontaminated as all the rest of his meals had been. If he were to ask Hermione's opinion on the subject, it would probably result in a one way detour into house elf and creature/being rights, something he was dead set against restarting. Besides even if he did want to speak with her on the subject, it would take nearly all break for Hedwig to fly to India and return not counting on weather conditions. Harry had no way of reaching the one person in the world he most wanted to talk to.
Going back to the matter at hand, Harry worried about Kreacher telling somebody about what he knew. Did he know more?
Harry summoned the letter from Voldemort. It whizzed out of a dresser drawer; a few socks flying out behind the
parchment and landing in a dejected lump on the floorboards. The letter appeared untouched, but appearances were
deceiving. After all, he'd seen Kreacher sneak items from the rubbish when he first arrived and the elf always
seemed to know where everything was within the binned piles in the downstairs hall.
The house elf was sneaky and didn't accept boundaries he didn't want. Ron had complained about Kreacher standing on top of his chest during the middle of the night, startling and waking him up. While amusing at the time, Harry hadn't thought of the ramifications of that statement. Mainly that Kreacher could and would come and go as he pleased, keeping his business secret.
"Vealo magical signature!" Harry said, tapping the letter twice.
Spidery lines emerged from the letters forming a black web of sinister magic that Harry could only attribute to Lord Voldemort's ink choice, if not the writer himself. Where Harry had touched the page the markings were green, a fact he confirmed by pressing his thumb in a corner. There were markings from the black owl's presence in gray blue and lastly blobs of yellow-green stood in the corners, a sign of a botched up attempt at removing magical residue, a particularly complex and archaic spell few knew, let alone bothered with. Harry attributed these blobs to Kreacher's inability to use wizard magic or failings with a found wand. In either case it did not look good to Harry.
"Blasted elf," Harry cursed as he slumped to the floor and started looking for loose floorboards. He couldn't keep the letter out anymore. It was too dangerous for it to be found. He found a board midway beneath the bed and the wall and shredded his fingernails pulling it free. He slipped the letter into the space beneath and replaced the board.
A quick warding spell on the floorboard insured that its existence would remain undetected. Harry put more time and effort into warding the room from Kreacher after that. The ward magic came easily to Harry, it was like the patterns of the spells floated before him with crystal clarity, something that wouldn't have happened before he had connected with Bill Weasley during the Death Eater attack. Still, Harry had to refer to several old notebooks from his elective summer reading lists to find just one ward against house elves, which took most of the time since he would get reabsorbed in the reading material all over again.
He'd also taken precautions against the Weasley twins products like Extendable Ears and Spy Eye. The door received an imperturbable charm and twitchy-ears hex. The floor and walls were given an obscuro charm, in an attempt to block Mad-Eye's mad-eye. The outside walls were also reinforced with repelling and confundus spells.
Eventually though, it got done and Harry was fairly confident that the warding would ensure that at least Kreacher wouldn't be returning easily. Satisfied with the results, Harry sat down to eat his lunch. When he was done, he picked up the Occlumency book Hermione had found and read a few more chapters. The author was rather long winded but was good at breaking down points into easy to understand ideas.
After reading, Harry lay the book aside then relaxed onto the bed. He found that the best way for him to clear his mind was a simple combination of meditating and focusing on a single mundane object. The ceiling proved to be the most mundane thing in the entire room, which is why he used it.
He let his sharp mind drift and his vision to blur. Muffled buzzing started at the edge of his hearing and the hippogriff on the chest feeling soon followed. Harry rode the sensation until he cleared a sticky Droobles gum-like substance and began to freefall. He was determined to get to the fleshy floor this time. He was learning to ignore the constant falling.; the first time had been very disconcerting and that had pulled him right back to the surface.
Ages seemed to go by as Harry lost track of time. He spent most of it staring at the inky blackness that loomed below his falling form. It didn't even register to him when a small shape appeared on the landscape. The shape began to distinguish itself rapidly from the rest of the miserable surroundings. It swallowed up the darkness, filling Harry's field of vision, until Harry blinked in surprise. The fleshy goal receded as Harry was hurtled up at an alarming speed.
He came to the surface with a groan. Muttering a curse at the archaic field, Harry sat upright and swung his legs over the bed. He'd been so close! The floor had been right there. If only he hadn't blinked or been surprised he might be there now building up stamina and readying his mind for stage two, defense building.
He took a shower, trying to clear his muddled mind in the process. Wrapping a towel around his waist, Harry brushed his teeth and combed his hair, knowing it was no good. Watching his hair spring up back into its unruly mess of a mop, he had an idea. It would require a trip to Diagon Alley's barber for some hair tonic, but in the end his hair would be more manageable.
Harry dressed casually and went downstairs to see what the household was doing. James, Remus, and Sirius were going through the dining room, de-jinxing the poisoning goblets, biting China, and shocking silverware. Daniel and Ron were still working on cleaning out household pests like Mrs. Black when Molly cried out from another room. Lily rushed past him and skidded around the corner in her hurry to reach Mrs. Weasley. The others came racing after and Harry followed.
Mad-Eye Moody stumped up the stairs, barking out questions along the way. Harry peaked over the ex-auror's shoulder into the room and did a double take. Lying on the floor were perfectly preserved dead bodies of all people in the room plus the many redheaded Weasleys who weren't. Ron was spluttering ineffectually, his freckles standing out on his white face. Arthur pushed into the room, bumping into Harry as he did so. Molly wailed anew, throwing herself into his arms and sobbing.
Lupin took care of the boggart while the others comforted Mrs. Weasley. Harry watched with interest to see the bodies turn into a moon with a whirl of color. The shape shifter's true form was unknown to everyone in the wizarding world. It was a secret many had tried to deduce without success. His attention turned to Moody and Harry wondered briefly if the ex-auror knew what the boggart looked like resting because of his crazy eye or if somehow the boggart knew on some sixth sense when it was being watched and transformed even without an apparent audience in view.
Lily guided Ron and Ginny away from their parents and led them downstairs. Daniel and Harry trailed behind, the former a little uncertain of what to say to offset the terrible realization that the adults were far from strong and secure, that the war was getting to them more then they let on and he wondered what that would mean for him. Daniel cast Harry an unreadable look, which Harry ignored wholeheartedly.
"Come on Ronald, Ginerva," Lily said gently. "Sit yourselves down and I'll make you a cup of
cocoa."
Ginny nudged her brother into his chair and took the seat opposite him. Her red hair hung in front of her face, blocking her eyes from view. Daniel coughed tentatively and then slung himself down beside Ron, giving the redhead a firm shoulder squeeze of support.
"Your mum'll be okay, mate," Daniel said with as much conviction as he could muster.
Harry went to grab glasses from the cupboards for the cocoa and took down ten, one for every person in the house. Lily came by with the pot of hot chocolate and filled them up with the savory liquid. She brought four to the table and sat down, keeping one for herself and handing the other three to the three teens before her. Harry took his and waved his wand over the lip of the cup creating a fountain of mini-marshmallows. Another wave and the fountain cut off.
Blowing on his chocolate, Harry stepped off to the side and pressed his back against the countertop. The three faithful Marauders traipsed into the kitchen a few moments later and made a beeline for the cups to the left of Harry. Remus seemed to enjoy his the most and relished the first sip with a gusty sigh.
"I never liked boggarts," the werewolf said, taking another calming sip. "I always get the heebie-jeebies around them."
"Never bothered me," Sirius replied, swallowing a gulp of chocolate.
"Oh right," James said, whacking his best friend on the head. "That's because you're fearless."
"I am!" Sirius replied indignantly.
"He is!" Remus retorted with a smirk. "Just ask him."
"Thank you Moony old chap," Sirius started, before looking between James and Remus and taking in their identical smiles. "Hey! Hold on a second, just what are you grinning about you two?"
"Nothing," James said.
Remus echoed with a, "Nothing, Padfoot."
"Liars!" Sirius shouted before rounding on James and waving his wand.
James' hair turned lime green and grew down to his ankles. His appearance caused everybody in the kitchen to burst out laughing. He saw Sirius raise his wand again and hastily held up his hands. "Now wait one bloody second!"
"Yes?"
"Why me? Why do I get green hair and not Remmy?"
"Oh, good point," Sirius said, casting the hex at Remus who didn't dodge in time.
James burst out laughing when Remus, the normally reserved one in the group turned into a Muggle-hugging Wizzy; forgetting for the moment that he looked the same. Ginny giggled into her cup of cocoa and Lily merely rolled her eyes at the Marauder's antics. Their methods for cheering up a depressing room was certainly over the top, but effective none the less.
James advanced on Sirius slowly drawing out his wand. "Now, Moony?" he asked, eyeing the other man as he too drew his wand.
Remus nodded, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Now Prongs."
Sirius got blasted from both sides with Harry nearly avoiding a human-lobster transfiguration jinx. When the puffs of colored smoked dispersed, everybody could see just what happened to Sirius. He laid moaning pitifully on the ground in his dog-form, having turned into his Animagus form in an attempt to escape the curses aimed at him. It only partially succeeded since he still managed to have gotten hit. His hind quarters were glued together into a fish's tail, his fur was shorn off, and his front knees reversed so he couldn't move. He looked rather pathetic.
"You look great, Padfoot," Remus said, waving his wand and returning his hair to normal. "Spectacular really, wouldn't change a thing."
"Hey, how'd you reverse it?" James asked, gathering up as much of his hair as he could, so he wouldn't trip stepping over Sirius.
"That was wicked, Dad--Uncle Remus. Can you show Ron and I how to do that?"
"Yeah, we've been itching to hex Malfoy, the git."
"Boys!" Lily reprimanded sharply causing Ginny to laugh. "Leave Malfoy alone. Now we still have work to be done so hurry it up and finish your chocolate."
"But Mrs. P!" Ron protested. "We've been at it all day! Can't we go and take a fly?"
"Tomorrow perhaps," Lily conceded. "But not today. Ginny you will be helping Remus sort out the attic. Watch out for ghouls."
"Ghouls? No sweat, Mrs. P, we got one at home. Makes quite the racket at night sometimes."
Ron snorted. "No more than Fred and George did growing up. They had so many blasts and bangs and loud noises they could compete with the ghoul for volume and win."
"They did that to create all that merchandise," Ginny retorted. "How else could they have gotten that loan from Gringotts if they didn't prove to the goblins that they were mightily clever and already had a bunch of new products?"
"Moving on," Lily inserted effortlessly breaking into the siblings' conversation. "Daniel--Ron both of you will help Sirius with clearing out the bundimun rotting out the cellar. Sirius when they're done helping you, show them how to fix the foundations."
Sirius whined piteously, flopping his tail. Before Lily could demand he be returned to his normal state of being, James did so. Sirius cast a hurt look at both of his friends, but they ignored his pouting vestige with a practiced ease garnered from their Hogwarts' days.
"James, you and Moody will take care of that grandfather clock and try to tackle the Black Ancestry chart and Mrs. Black's portrait since the boys were unsuccessful earlier. Molly and I will get this kitchen in order and work on the upper floors in hopes to cheer the place up with some Christmas decorations."
Harry saw Daniel glance at him and merely raised his mug in salute. He knew what was going to happen next, it had already been played out this morning, only this time it would be Daniel petitioning their mum instead of Ron with his mother.
"And Harry? What's Harry going to do?" Daniel asked, turning back to Harry and smirking.
"Harry?" Lily asked, turning her head to look at him. He returned her gaze with renewed apathy.
At her continued blankness, Harry waved jauntily, if mockingly, and drained his cocoa of its dregs. He used his wand to levitate it to the sink. He let his mother's bafflement at his presence blow over him thanks to his newfound attitude towards the subject.
"Well he can clear out the cabinets of dark objects from the common room and office."
He nodded and left the kitchen, ascending to the ground floor and bypassing Mrs. Black's portrait while moving into the common room. It reeked of the doxycide from that morning, but Harry just shut the door and strode over to the cabinets lining either side of the fireplace.
He looked at the first one, noting the many layers of dust the has accumulated over the decades and conjured himself a pair of gloves. Dust bunnies, the common name for the household magical pests known asharemites. At about the size of a thumbnail, the creatures were particularly vicious. They sunk their tiny fangs into any available skin, but particularly enjoyed latching onto hands and noses. Muggles and wizards alike sneeze multiple times upon encountering them, usually while trying to dislodge the blighters from the nasal passages.
With his wand held firmly in his right hand, Harry flung open the first cabinet. The haremites mobilized immediately and flung themselves into the air. He cast an immobility spell which did nothing much to his astonishment. Three managed to land on his gloved hands. He killed them and simultaneously tossed a standard deviation of the common hindrance spell. About half of the haremites slowed down while the others appeared to be immune. He hastily threw up a bubble charm protecting his face and giving himself fresh air devoid of the pests.
Harry took a deep breath and started flinging out stunning hexes and cutting hexes. Those hit with the cutting hex died instantly while the stunned fell to the floor, where he promptly stomped them to death. Some landed on his hands from time to time and he'd have to stop throwing curses to get rid of the haremites. His gloves were getting shredded around his fingertips and knuckles. The tiny fangs biting into his skin were leaving behind painful bumps.
When the air finally cleared of the vicious hoard of dust bunnies, Harry was relieved. He banished the bodies into the leftover doxy rubbish sack from Ron and Daniel's curtains and shut the cabinet doors. He removed the gloves and took stock of his hands. Bumps covered his knuckles and he was sorely grateful that their bites were not poisonous like the doxies were or he'd be in a right mess; as it was he was going to have to brew essence of murtlap.
Harry conjured another pair of gloves, hoping the fresh set would keep his hands in better shape. He strengthen the bubble-head charm and opened the last cabinet on the other side of the fireplace. Dust bunnies exploded outwards, filling the air in spiraling pandemonium. These haremites sensing the loss of their brethren were more determined than the other group to eat him alive. They attacked his gloves, his shirt, and his pants.
Stunners were less effective on this bunch and it cost him the skin on his elbows and knees. Just as it looked like there were going to get the upper hand Kreacher appeared and snapped his fingers. Harry ended up casting an impedimenta on the old elf. Kreacher flew backwards into the first open cabinet with a resounding crash.
Harry cancelled the bubble charm. "Merlin's beard! Kreacher I didn't see you." He held out his hand to help the house elf up and out of the mess of objects lying on the floor.
"Mistress would rather they be broken by Kreacher than gotten rid of by her blood traitor son. If she knew, if my poor mistress knew about the filth he's let into this noble house…"
"Right," Harry interrupted. "Well I'm sorry for hitting you with a spell and thanks for the help."
"Kreacher wonders if snake boy read the special book, but no matter, Kreacher is here to help snake boy with the cleaning of the cabinets."
"Sirius doesn't like you helping out," Harry said, peeling off the torn tatters of his second pair of gloves.
"He is an improper master, wanting to get rid of priceless precious heirlooms!" Kreacher exclaimed, looking flustered, if bright green cheeks were an indication of flushing in house elves.
"If you actually help and don't steal, I'll let you help," Harry offered, staring hard at the top of the elf's bowed head.
"Kreacher will do as snake boy says… for now."
º«««º»»»ºEnd Chapter 25º«««º»»»º