It Could Have Gone That Way; A Harmione Fanfiction

Chapter 48: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

Tonks tripped over the dusty curtains by the front door, sending them flying. There was a life-sized portrait of an old woman behind them. The painting began to scream as Harry and Hermione drew closer to it.

"Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Stains of dishonour, filthy half-breeds, blood traitors, children of filth! Half-breeds, mutants, Mudbloods, freaks, begone from this place! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers-"

"Shut up, you horrible old hag, shut UP!" Sirius roared, charging from seemingly out of nowhere.

"Yoooou!" The portrait howled, eyes popping,"Blood traitor, abomination, shame of my flesh!"

"I said - shut - UP!" Sirius rehung the curtains and - with a stupendous effort - managed to force them closed again. "Hello, Harry, Hermione." Sirius said grimly, turning to face the pair,"I see you've met my mother."

"Your-"

"Oh!" Mrs. Weasley bristled in and stopped at the sight of Harry and Hermione,"Oh, Harry, Hermione, dears...um...Fred, George, Ron and Ginny need your help in the back room. The one by the toilet." At their hesitation, she hurried over and danced them trough the corridor hastily.

"Hullo, Harry!" Ron said cheerily as the pair entered the room,"Hi, Hermione. Come to help?"

Harry looked around,"I suppose."

Ginny made to close the door and block out the noise that had once again erupted in the corridor - not from Sirius' mother, but rather from Mrs. Weasley, who was now giving Sirius a very noisy lecture. Someone edged into the room before the door could close. It was a House Elf. He took no notice of anyone at all, and kept on muttering to himself.

"...too much for Kreacher, for my master still smells like a drain and a criminal to boot, but she's no better, nasty old blood traitor with her brats messing up my mistress's house, oh, my poor mistress, if she knew, if she knew the scum they've let into her house, what would she say to old Kreacher, oh, the shame of it, Mudbloods and werewolves and traitors and thieves, poor old Kreacher, what can he do..."

"Hello, Kreacher." The twins chorused very loudly and angrily.

Kreacher froze in his tracks before bowing to the twins,"Pardon. Kreacher didn't see young masters." Head still pointed at the floor, he added perfectly audibly,"Nasty little brats of blood traitors they are."

"Sorry?" George said coolly,"Didn't catch that last bit."

"Kreacher said nothing." He bowed once more,"Ah, the twins, unnatural little beasts they are."

Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not. The elf straightened up, eyeing them all malevolently and, apparently still convinced they couldn't hear him, he continued to mutter.

"And there's the Mudblood, standing there bold as brass, oh, if my mistress knew, oh, how she'd cry, and there's a new boy, Kreacher doesn't know his name. What is he doing here? Kreacher doesn't know..."

Hermione spoke tentatively,"This is Harry, Kreacher. Harry Potter."

Kreacher's pale eyes widened as he muttered faster and more furiously than ever,"The Mudblood is talking to Kreacher as though she is my friend, if Kreacher's mistress saw him in such company, oh, what would she say-"

"Don't call her - hic! - that." Harry tried to keep his voice steady, but wound up hiccoughing rather loudly instead.

Hermione looked rather submissive, unsure whether to stick up for Kreacher or to stick up for herself. In the end, she wound up deciding not to say anything to anyone but Harry for the rest of the day as the six of them began spraying the back room with Doxycide, thoughts still playing on her mind. Even then, she had only properly spoken to Harry once that afternoon. The pair had eaten dinner in silence and then wandered into the back room again as it was now free of both Doxies and Doxycide.