Paid In Blood - Revised

Chapter 7

"NNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOO!" shouted Harry, his eyes snapping open as he violently woke from his nightmare. He sat up in the bed, hyperventilating and clutching his chest, his body drenched in a cold sweat. He could feel his heart pounding in his ears, and tears were running down his cheeks.

Dobby popped next to the bed, looking concerned.

"Master, what's wrong?" the elf asked, and Harry waved his hand dismissively, signalling that everything was fine.

"I don't believe you, Harry," the elf replied, crossing his arms. "Which one was it?"

"Christmas Day, 2006," Harry replied, his voice ragged and sorrowful. Dobby lowered his head in regret.

"And Christmas Day, 2012."

"Both?!"

"I hate Christmas..." Harry whispered, clenching his fist into a ball. His eyes were wild and unfocused, as if he was staring off into the void. "I'll kill them all. I'll destroy everything they hold dear. I'll break them down into nothing, I'll torture them to the very threshold of insanity, and only then will I kill them," he hissed, more to himself than to Dobby, who had no reply. Dobby shared his master's anger, and completely understood and agreed with everything Harry had said.

"They took everything from me. From us."

"You know I'll help you, but it's still too soon," advised Dobby. At the sight of his master's glare, he continued, "It's your own plan, Master. It was your idea to wait for the perfect moment."

"I'm tired, Dobby. I'm tired of pretending. Every time I see the two of them in classes, I have to hold myself back from killing them on sight. Just the sight of them makes me want to throw my entire plan out the window, rip Oberon limb from limb, and gut Titania like the pig she is. They took them away from me, Dobby, both of them..."

Dobby didn't reply. He just stood there and listened to his master's rant.

"Why, Dobby?" Harry sobbed, hiding his face in his hands. Dobby walked to Harry and put his hand on his shoulder, then snapped his fingers and conjured a table along a bottle of firewhisky and a glass. The bottle hovered in the air a moment, then tipped its contents into the glass until it was full before settling again on the table.

"Drink up," said Dobby, giving Harry the full glass. Harry threw it back and finished half of it in two gulps, then set down the glass and lowered his head again.

"I know," Dobby said. "Just give the order and I will bring them here in chains. No one would ever find their bodies."

Harry looked at Dobby, seeing his determined look and the loyalty lying beneath it.

"However, you had a plan that you wanted to follow in order to destroy them completely. I believe your words were..."

"Death would be too easy for them," he finished, and Dobby nodded. Harry's posture sagged as the tension left him. Harry knew his friend was right - he needed to stick to the plan. "I hate those dreams," he sighed.

"I can imagine," the elf replied.

"Thanks, Dobby," Harry said, raising his glass in a salute before finishing his drink. He stood from the bed and walked over to the desk.

"Do you require anything else, sir?"

"No, thank you Dobby," Harry replied, and the loyal house-elf popped away. Harry sat down at the desk and rested his head on his knuckles, deep in thought. With a sigh, he picked up his wand and pulled a familiar memory from his head and placed it in the basin. Shedding a tear, Harry took a deep breath and went into the Pensieve.