Kreacher & Dobby
Harry had to create a public statement that this event was just an awful and unhumorous gag.
After all, in the end, Harry Potter was not dead. And they can hardly arrest a bird, now can they?
There was a public outcry for retribution. Harry offered up some of Sirius’s stash.
With that problem down, multiple others arise. But first things first, Sirius needs a safe space to recoup from his Voldemort and dementor exposure.
(Poor Sirius is curled up in the corner, rolling back in forth in a fetal position.)
Sadly, Harry’s at fault for that too.
Harry won’t tell anyone what happened, much to Hedwig’s detriment. In order to get a new house, they need Kreacher. Dobby and Kreacher.
Harry feels incredibly remorseful for what he’s done.
(His house. His house!)
When Hedwig hears where Harry dropped the elves off, she is overeager to go see them.
They leave Sirius and the old man at Hogwarts with mild threats to stay in place. For good measure, Draco goes with, bringing that stupid fucking peacock. It makes itself right at home with Hagrid. At least Hedwig has avoided Ulysses successfully.
Ron and Hermione head home.
It’s just them two again.
Just like the beginning.
——
Hedwig can see a parade in the distance. Oh God, this’ll be good.
Kreacher is sat up on top of an oversized
gaudy throne, red velvet and gold. The house elf has a smug look on his face, the proudest the both of them have ever seen him. His henchman carry him with a military march.
Dobby is right beside him, tied criss-cross to a stake. They’re holding him up like a popsicle.
Harry, in the midst of his impulsive and possessed haze, left his elves behind with the cult that they once stayed at and destroyed.
It appears that they’ve taken quite a liking to the small hairless mole rats. Well, one of them, anyway.
(Sir Kreacher was a master at manipulating, which should be obvious when you think of the family he has come from.
This didn’t bode well for Dobby.
Performing magic in front of the cult members led to the humans to believing that their deity was acting through the elves, turning their worship their direction.
While Dobby was out one day, Kreacher declared Dobby as an evil doer, a being only meant to bring harm to humanity. A false vessel, a demon in disguise. Dobby was just biding his time, waiting to strategically end them all. The humans must sacrifice him in order to appease their God.
Dobby was thrown into a cold and isolated pit. Kreacher bound his magic.
Nasty, foul old elf would get what’s coming to him.
Dobby is sure of this.)
It seems that Hedwig and Harry made it just in time for whatever the hell was about to happen here.
A full on parade through the woods leading to a giant fiery pit. Wow, they really went all out, didn’t they? Got the whole town here.
Masked and cloaked figures all stood cheering, confetti falling and balloons disappearing into the sky. They carry lit torches and… bloody banners? Everyone looks a bit too determined here. They even hired a Mariachi band.
Dobby sees Hedwig from his position, his eyes popping out wide to a size that is disturbing and mouth gaping. It’s eerily comparable to bringing a deep-sea fish up to the surface.
(He knew his Harry Potter would save him!)
(Harry can’t lie, he’s kind of curious to see where this goes.)
Hedwig and Harry look at each other.
Harry goes up to the head man he recognizes, the one he originally left his minions to. The wannabe pixie is up in the air behind them.
“Harry Potter Sir!”
“What’s going on?”
The man starts a ramble on about how his God has shown himself through these strange foreign midgets. He tells Harry, with a bit of mania, that they have set up a ritual just down the dirt path to sacrifice Dobby. Kreacher (their God) has oh so generously offered to re-bless their land, for the small price of human slavery, of course.
Kreacher has essentially formed his own cult of human devotees. They bow down to him three times a day and offer fresh food at his feet while he sits on his throne and looks pretty (deformed).
(This is a turning point for Kreacher.)
“Maybe… uh… don’t do that.”
“We already swore on cow intestines. I’m sorry.”
“Harry Potter Sir! Please don’t let them eat Dobby! Elves don’t even be tasting good when cooked!”
What. Harry looks to Hedwig for advice.
Why doesn’t he know better at this point?
This is how they end up creating a little bit of anarchy. Just a little.
Harry plays the role of the true vessel, their true God coming down to Earth to right their wrongs, Kreacher being the real evil demon. Raising his wand and sending a spurt of fire into the air, he orders his followers to release Dobby and chase the false prophet out instead.
The followers are clearly confused. They both have mystical powers. Who should they believe? The original? This new one? Is their God truly disappointed in them?
Kreacher is peeved that his potential human army is being removed from his grasp.
“He is lying, it is really I!”
Harry raises his wand in front of him and aims at Kreacher, an epic showdown about to begin between the hero and the villain.
Hedwig lands on his shoulder with a gang bandanna, Harry’s trusty sidekick. He prepares a speech, hoping to resonate in some of their hearts.
“Aren’t you all tired of this? Kneeling to a false prophet. This… being has deceived you all! Surely you can’t be happy with your higher ups making you bow down to this thing?”
The cult members shuffle, about to take sides, Civil War about to start.
Kreacher cracks his little knuckles, looking up at Harry with the look of a potential serial killer.
“Kreacher has not had a chance to create such a lovely bloody masterpiece since Mistress Maia. Kreacher will enjoy this.”
What is wrong with house elves. Seriously.
Harry and Hedwig get into position, preparing to duel it out with Kreacher.
Kreacher, having never been given an order from Sirius to officially “obey” Harry Potter, is not obligated to surrender to his every whim.
The elf lunges at Harry, his weird elf finger claws aiming straight for the eyes, jaws snapping. Harry should’ve gotten his rabies shot last year. Luckily, Harry is used to chaos. He evades the attacks skillfully, ducking and dodging.
His training with Dumbledore and Fawkes is coming to good use.
Harry spins around and delivers a magically enhanced 360 kick (with the help of Hedwig) right to Kreacher’s torso, the evil little chucky doll flying through the air and landing back into the crowd of confused cultists.
The cultists, having turned on each other, play a brief game of Pickleball with Kreacher’s body.
Kreacher, free, immediately spews a bolt of red light at Harry. Harry ducks, two trees behind him falling over, completely sliced in half.
“Kreacher was aiming for the neck.”
Jesus Christ Kreacher.
Harry and Hedwig have no choice but to get serious when faced with the bloodlust of an animal that should’ve been left behind from the ark. Things go straight to one hundred percent, no room for missteps.
Harry still has his pack. Sad news for Kreacher. He takes out a couple of fart-smelling smoke bombs, throwing them right down in front of him, hiding their frames. Everyone’s gagging.
Dobby is still being taken away.
Hedwig sends a huge gust of wind towards the slightly saner elf, a small tornado forming and picking him up with it. They go swirling around the woods, picking up stray cultists and squirrels.
Fireworks are accidentally set off.
“Dobby can’t breathe!”
The Mariachi is still playing.
Kreacher is lurking somewhere through the smoke, the occasional green light heading towards them. Every other minute, she’ll see his eyes glow through the haze. Are they red?
Hedwig thinks that after centuries of abuse from madmen and women, he’s finally lost it. Multiple killing curses? Precautions be damned.
Hedwig summons a wall of fire between Kreacher and them. Fiendfyre.
The forest is lit up with Fiendfyre.
“Hedwig… seriously?”
He was the one who wanted the help.
There goes Kreacher, picked up by the tornado. Oh look, it turned into a bit of a fire whirl.
A whirling mass of fuck up.
There’s no Dumbledore here to fix it this time. The rest of the fire takes the form of a giant serpent, orange figure headed straight their way, fire fangs and all.
Well, they should probably run now. Let the government officials take care of this and all.
Hedwig decides to attempt to stop the tornado, at the very least. She sends out another even more powerful gust of wind. The outburst heads upwards, going so fast that the cloud above them forms a big gaping hole.
It begins raining.
But, Kreacher and Dobby were spit out, tornado disappearing. The fire continues, however.
But what an awful time for an earthquake to occur. It’s pretty bad, too. Roots are coming out of the ground, being swallowed up by the flames quicker.
Harry picks up a knocked senseless Kreacher by his scruff, a strange necklace barely hanging off of his neck. It’s nearly indistinguishable.
Huh, either Harry or Hedwig must’ve broken it. Oops.
“This reminds me of something Tom said… it was really weird…”
Harry is unable to finish his sentence as they have to make a run for it. Hedwig wonders what he was about to say.
It was probably going to be something normal with no consequences. (It was not.)