A tradgic fire in the Herbology room caused all classes to be cancelled for the day. Ron, Harry and Hermione found themselves enjoying the day in the Great Hall. Hermione was pouring over a thick book, and Ron and Harry were enjoying a game of wizard's chess.
The doors opened and Neville walked down the rows to sit next to Harry. His eyes were red, and he looked a little less high-strung and nervous, as was usual for him.
"Hiya, Neville!" Said Ron, bitting his lip to keep from laughing as one of Harry's chess pieces flew across the table in two pieces.
"RON!" Cried Neville, and burst out with laughter. "Ron!"
"What's wrong with you, Neville?" Asked Harry, pausing from his game and looking at Neville suspiciously.
"What's wrong with YOU?!" He laughed some more, being very obnoxious. "Look!" He pointed suddenly to the table where sat the teachers. "A unicorn!"
Hermione looked up from her book, and glared at Neville.
"D'you mind? I have reading to-" She stopped suddenly. "Neville? What is wrong with you?" She looked at his face puzzled. Then she gasped as she came to a realization. "You where there when the Herbology room caught fire! Harry, Ron, take him to the common room as fast as you can! I'll be there in a minute!" She marked her page and stowed her book in her bag.
Harry and Ron escorted Neville to the fat lady.
"Password?" She asked, staring pointedly at Neville.
"You are!" Cried Neville, guffawing.
Harry sighed and recited the password. The trio walked through and placed Neville on a chair. He melted into the fabric and looked at the ceiling, his eyes glazing over. "Oh man. I feel great," the boy almost sang in a whisper.
Harry and Ron exchanged glances and shrugged.
"Say, Neville, what's wrong with you?" Asked Harry, settling into his favorite chair near Neville's.
"The plants we where using in the Herbology room caught fire, and I think the smoke did this to me. It's awesome!" His voice slurred a little, and he sounded as if it was just a thought to himself.
Harry and Ron exchanged glances again.
"What's it like, Neville?" Asked Ron.
"The best feeling in the world," he replied in a tone worthy of Luna Lovegood.
Ron turned to Harry and said, "I want to try it, too!"
Harry's brow furrowed as he took in Neville, and thought to himself. "Me too," He decided.
BAH I'm tired. THa's the end for now :p
Friday, February 13, 2009
Another Fanfic :(
But this one was done here, so I'm sure it's filled with crazy typos!
ENJOY!
HARRY/KREACHER Slash
When Harry arrived with the other wizards, Kreacher the House-Elf was hard at work for his mistress, polishing things, and cleaning her room. He knew she was dead, and had fallen into the hands of the traitor, the youngest and last surviving Black. Kreacher muttered in disgust about his master, completely not caring about the laws that bound him to loyalty. Screw ironing his mouth, and bashing his head on things to punish himself. His true mistress wouldn't care if he badmouthed Sirius. She would probably be proud of Kreacher.
The boy with the scar that walked up the dusty stairs Kreacher knew well. The famed Harry Potter. Godson of his master. He knew how he had sent Voldemort into hiding, and how he had failed to save everyone as originally thought by the wizarding world.
Kreacher knew all the stories, had read all of the newspapers. He imagined an arrogant sonofabitch like his master. He was wrong. For when Harry first trod on Kreacher's mistress' floor, he was struck with a truck only could feel. This boy was beautiful, he thought. Harry paused as he passed Kreacher, and Kreacher all but fell to his knees. A second passed, and Kreacher caught himself drooling internally. He gruffly turned away and thought about how despicable that boy was. Friends with traitors and mudbloods alike. He spat on the floor where Harry had walked, and listened as Harry spoke with the mudblood and the traitor. Kreacher never again revisited his feeling toward Harry Potter as he continued his helpless work in the pest-ridden mansion that he adored.
Some time passed. Kreacher was left alone, as it should have been. Sirius barked at him a little, but Kreacher felt satisfaction at cursing him in his mind. Harry Potter returned to school with his disgraceful friends. Every now and again Order members would come in, and leave dirt marks on the floor with their boots, but Kreacher would not clean them out of protest to his master. Everything was just great, until Christmas rolled around.
The traitors came back, and so did the Potter boy. Harry passed Kreacher on the stairs again, and Kreacher was hit again by the strong feeling he could not identify. He followed Harry up the stairs and to the room he was staying in. Kreacher watched him as he riffled through his trunk and pulled out a shirt. Kreacher realized they where all alone in the room. He crouched under the bed, just able to see Harry, who was flipping his new shirt right side out. He removed his shirt, and Kreacher held in a gasp of shock. Harry's bare chest was amazing. Kreacher looked over his muscles greedily, and wanted to touch them. He reached out his hand longingly, but drew it back quickly. He grew ashamed with his behavior, and buried his head in his hands. Kreacher waited for the sound of the door to open, but it did not. He peeked through his hands, and saw Harry very close to him. Harry had found his hiding place! Kreacher gasped, and got out from his hiding place.
"Wother, Kreacher," Harry said, a puzzling look crossing his rugged features. Kreacher felt the urge to touch him again, stronger this time. Almost unbearable.
"Master Harry," He bowed, never breaking eye-contact. Harry bent lower and the house elf watched the muscles in his arms move irresistibly. Kreacher reached his hand out again, and made contact with Harry's arm. Harry jerked back suddenly, his mouth agape.
"S...Sorry," Kreacher stuttered, desperate for an escape now that Harry had so blatantly shown him that he didn't feel the same way as the house-elf.
"What? You didn't do anything wrong," Harry's voice was suddenly deeper, calling Kreacher back to him. Harry reached his hand to Kreacher and grabbed him around the waist, pulling him against his body. "I don't mind at all." Under ordinary circumstances, Kreacher would have been outraged. But he couldn't force himself to move an inch away from Harry, who was getting closer to his face by the second. Kreacher could smell Harry. He inhaled deeply and shivered with pleasure. Harry's lips were mere inches away from his. Kreacher moved closer, and their lips met. Kreacher lost track of what he was doing, and next thing he knew they were both on Harry's bed, Harry without a shirt, still together at the lips. Kreacher was desperate for more, and reached for Harry's pants. Harry moaned in approval.
With a great bang, the door opened. Kreacher's eyes flew open, and he nearly flung himself away from Harry. Nearly. Harry's arms, tight around him, wouldn't let him budge an inch. In the doorway stood Ron, a blank look of shock on his face. Harry whipped out his wand and pointed it at Ron.
"Obliviate!" Cried Harry loudly. Loud enough that a ruckus downstairs was started as the Order members rushed up the stairs in Harry's aid. Harry closed and locked the door magically, and turned to Kreacher.
"We can't go on like this. I want you, but I can't have you." Harry said, looking Kreacher straight in the eye. The house elf's eyes welled with tears and he nodded.
"Yes master,"
Harry looked sadly into his eyes, and knew that they only had precious moments left. He kissed Kreacher one last time, and then released him.
Lupin opened the door with his wand, and took in Harry on the bed, shirtless. Kreacher was nowhere in sight.
"Sorry, Harry. Didn't mean to wake you," Lupin closed the door behind him quietly. Harry heard Sirius talking with Kreacher, who Harry assumed had apparated to the hall.
"-Boggart in the next room, master."
Harry sighed and looked at the ceiling. His thoughts wandered to Kreacher, and he decided then that he would treat him as good as he could from that day on.
It's crappy, I know xD
This was for Judy, who I hope likes it!
ENJOY!
HARRY/KREACHER Slash
When Harry arrived with the other wizards, Kreacher the House-Elf was hard at work for his mistress, polishing things, and cleaning her room. He knew she was dead, and had fallen into the hands of the traitor, the youngest and last surviving Black. Kreacher muttered in disgust about his master, completely not caring about the laws that bound him to loyalty. Screw ironing his mouth, and bashing his head on things to punish himself. His true mistress wouldn't care if he badmouthed Sirius. She would probably be proud of Kreacher.
The boy with the scar that walked up the dusty stairs Kreacher knew well. The famed Harry Potter. Godson of his master. He knew how he had sent Voldemort into hiding, and how he had failed to save everyone as originally thought by the wizarding world.
Kreacher knew all the stories, had read all of the newspapers. He imagined an arrogant sonofabitch like his master. He was wrong. For when Harry first trod on Kreacher's mistress' floor, he was struck with a truck only could feel. This boy was beautiful, he thought. Harry paused as he passed Kreacher, and Kreacher all but fell to his knees. A second passed, and Kreacher caught himself drooling internally. He gruffly turned away and thought about how despicable that boy was. Friends with traitors and mudbloods alike. He spat on the floor where Harry had walked, and listened as Harry spoke with the mudblood and the traitor. Kreacher never again revisited his feeling toward Harry Potter as he continued his helpless work in the pest-ridden mansion that he adored.
Some time passed. Kreacher was left alone, as it should have been. Sirius barked at him a little, but Kreacher felt satisfaction at cursing him in his mind. Harry Potter returned to school with his disgraceful friends. Every now and again Order members would come in, and leave dirt marks on the floor with their boots, but Kreacher would not clean them out of protest to his master. Everything was just great, until Christmas rolled around.
The traitors came back, and so did the Potter boy. Harry passed Kreacher on the stairs again, and Kreacher was hit again by the strong feeling he could not identify. He followed Harry up the stairs and to the room he was staying in. Kreacher watched him as he riffled through his trunk and pulled out a shirt. Kreacher realized they where all alone in the room. He crouched under the bed, just able to see Harry, who was flipping his new shirt right side out. He removed his shirt, and Kreacher held in a gasp of shock. Harry's bare chest was amazing. Kreacher looked over his muscles greedily, and wanted to touch them. He reached out his hand longingly, but drew it back quickly. He grew ashamed with his behavior, and buried his head in his hands. Kreacher waited for the sound of the door to open, but it did not. He peeked through his hands, and saw Harry very close to him. Harry had found his hiding place! Kreacher gasped, and got out from his hiding place.
"Wother, Kreacher," Harry said, a puzzling look crossing his rugged features. Kreacher felt the urge to touch him again, stronger this time. Almost unbearable.
"Master Harry," He bowed, never breaking eye-contact. Harry bent lower and the house elf watched the muscles in his arms move irresistibly. Kreacher reached his hand out again, and made contact with Harry's arm. Harry jerked back suddenly, his mouth agape.
"S...Sorry," Kreacher stuttered, desperate for an escape now that Harry had so blatantly shown him that he didn't feel the same way as the house-elf.
"What? You didn't do anything wrong," Harry's voice was suddenly deeper, calling Kreacher back to him. Harry reached his hand to Kreacher and grabbed him around the waist, pulling him against his body. "I don't mind at all." Under ordinary circumstances, Kreacher would have been outraged. But he couldn't force himself to move an inch away from Harry, who was getting closer to his face by the second. Kreacher could smell Harry. He inhaled deeply and shivered with pleasure. Harry's lips were mere inches away from his. Kreacher moved closer, and their lips met. Kreacher lost track of what he was doing, and next thing he knew they were both on Harry's bed, Harry without a shirt, still together at the lips. Kreacher was desperate for more, and reached for Harry's pants. Harry moaned in approval.
With a great bang, the door opened. Kreacher's eyes flew open, and he nearly flung himself away from Harry. Nearly. Harry's arms, tight around him, wouldn't let him budge an inch. In the doorway stood Ron, a blank look of shock on his face. Harry whipped out his wand and pointed it at Ron.
"Obliviate!" Cried Harry loudly. Loud enough that a ruckus downstairs was started as the Order members rushed up the stairs in Harry's aid. Harry closed and locked the door magically, and turned to Kreacher.
"We can't go on like this. I want you, but I can't have you." Harry said, looking Kreacher straight in the eye. The house elf's eyes welled with tears and he nodded.
"Yes master,"
Harry looked sadly into his eyes, and knew that they only had precious moments left. He kissed Kreacher one last time, and then released him.
Lupin opened the door with his wand, and took in Harry on the bed, shirtless. Kreacher was nowhere in sight.
"Sorry, Harry. Didn't mean to wake you," Lupin closed the door behind him quietly. Harry heard Sirius talking with Kreacher, who Harry assumed had apparated to the hall.
"-Boggart in the next room, master."
Harry sighed and looked at the ceiling. His thoughts wandered to Kreacher, and he decided then that he would treat him as good as he could from that day on.
It's crappy, I know xD
This was for Judy, who I hope likes it!
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