disclaimer: I do not own anything that occurred or was mentioned in the original Harry Potter books. All characters coming from the books belong solely to J.K Rowling. The bold faced lyrics featured in the prologue, was The Great Disappointment by AFI. The bold face lyrics in this chapter is The Pharaoh Sails to Orion by Nightwish.
warnings: violence, swearing, shounen ai (boy/boy), ooc-ness, evil!Harry, good-but-still-evil!Draco, Boy Who Lived!Neville, and more... (:D)
a/n: Nothing to say but- enjoy!
"Get away from me!
Take heed to thyself and see my face no more!
for in the day Thou see my face
Thou shalt die!"
- Exodus 10:28
"Do you die today?"
The words left his lips in a silky, sorrowful tone that seemed unreal for he who should have not seen much in his limited lifespan. Reaching out to touch the reflection that stared mockingly back at him- and tried to scratch out the mocking stare that was returned through dark emerald eyes. Water dripped from the ends of his even darker hair- forming a steady rhythm of plops into the sink below. Mesmerized by the haunting stare that told him- told him that he was not the same as his friends. "No never the same-"
A sigh slipped from his lips, and he shook the water from his hair, trying ever to block out the sight of his eyes in the mirror. Whenever he saw his own eyes, he saw what had scared him to the bone in his first year when he saw the thing that had attacked the unicorn. Gripping his arms tightly, the bare flesh bruising quickly before the blotches slid away faintly, he pushed the painful images away. Away from the lids of his eyes, back to the dredges of his mind to hopefully stay there. Then again- nothing was ever that easy for him, and Harry dressed in the dull school robes they were forced to wear.
Why couldn't this school- like many muggle public schools- allow the students to wear what they wanted? Right now he would kill to wear something with any color but black, green, or silver. The colors were mocking him right now- mocking little twisted things that weren't even living! Snapped out of his rant when he heard Blaise's, "Harry! Hurry up, we don't want to be late for our first class with Professor Umbridge, do we? She might get angry, and rat us out to the Minister!"
Huffing slightly, he ran towards his friend- not forgetting to grab his bag in the process- and smiled half-heartedly, "Why can't we just skip visiting the pink puffball?"
"Because Harry, we want to pass, right? Yes we do, and while you want to be a healer, and have private lessons with Madame Pomfrey, I wish to have something more exciting to do! And I want to get hurt so you're the one to treat me~" the older teen cooed as he dragged his still smaller-than-the-average-guy friend after him towards the horrid lair of Dolores Umbridge.
Harry groaned as they sat down early, but at least that way he was sitting with Pansy and Theodore in front of him, and Blaise next to him. He was awfully glad to have his friends around him- if they weren't there he didn't know what he would do to the puffball if she was as awful as Gilderoy Lockhart. The man was a monster. "Ew. At least I already know everything she's going to teach, or not, either way, I know it," he mumbled to Blaise, who smiled back.
"Hell yeah- we know this already. We're Slytherins. Are parents expect great things from us- so either way we are prepared for whatever this lady throws out, unlike the Golden Boy," snickered the taller teen pointing to the Gryffindors who had just entered the room.
For some reason Harry felt his eyes trail on Draco- the blond had lost his childish features, and now stood tall, lithe and pretty. Turning with a shudder of disturbance he muttered back, "Really, Malfoy could have gotten so much better. But he's stuck with a fool. How pathetic, his mother is disgusted with him. I would know- Auntie Cissy never shuts up whenever she comes to visit Padfoot alone; eh well, Moony is always there too... but..."
"That's a juicy tidbit Harry," Blaise returned just before the bell rang.
Quickly as the professor walked out from her room, Harry whispered solemnly, "Welcome to hell. Please- enjoy the complimentary pink puffball." And it fit- the short professor was still wearing the horrible pink thing; Pansy had a scowl of distaste on her face (which meant it was out of fashion by so many decades).
"Welcome, students, to Defence Against the Dark Arts class. I am Professor Umbridge, good morning," the teacher smiled, and smiled wider as the students replied to her greeting, "If you learn well, and do not lie, we shall get along fine. If you do not, then I shall have to punish you. Understand? Now I believe Albus Dubledore- your headmaster- has been filling your heads with the lie that a certain dark wizard has returned, right? Well you see students- the Minister wishes to tell you that that is all a lie. You-Know-Who is not returning anytime soon, so you shall have no need to learn how to defend yourself against the dark arts. Any objections to this?"
No one raised their hand, nor spoke out- until that was, Neville did, "But I saw Voldemort! I did! Are you suggesting Cedric decided to drop dead of his own accord!?"
She fixed a glare on the Boy Who Lived, the sweet disgusting smile still plastered on her face, "The Dark Lord has not returned, Mister Longbottom, and we do not speak out in this class."
Already Harry hated the teacher- she was denying that Riddle was back. Which meant she was denying that he had paid back any debt to that snakeman (who had probably gotten into massive quantities of crack at some point in his life). This meant the professor was on his 'People who deserve to suffer hell' list already. Just below Neville Longbottom, and Albus Dumbledore. So he raised his hand.
"Yes, Mister Potter?"
"I was wondering, Professor Umbridge, that if we do not learn to defend ourselves against the dark arts- how will we be able to defend ourself if the need ever arise? Since it is only understandable, and an intelligent woman like yourself, should agree that sometime in the future- whether it be two or one hundred years- a dark wizard powerful enough to cause trouble will arise. As it is shown throughout the course of history, and without dark wizards, there would not be wizards and witches of light. If, you agree, Professor," Harry said quickly- but not quick enough to make it seem as if he were afraid of the puffball.
"Mister Potter, what is it you wish to train for when you leave Hogwarts?" The short woman suddenly asked.
His sharp, unnatural emerald eyes narrowed slightly as he answered, "A healer, Professor."
"And what, would a healer need to know of the defenses against the dark arts now, Mister Potter?"
"I would need to know exactly the extent of the damage- whether by curse, hex, or jinx, and the proper way to counter the afforementioned ailment. It is suggested that anyone wishing to become a healer, should at least have been able to reach the NEWT levels in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and know how to properly counter the dark arts before training as a healer," Harry finished but then added a, "Professor Umbridge," for safety measures.
"And are you suggesting, Mister Potter, that another witch or wizard will attack a fellow with the dark arts?"
"It is perfectly possible if the person in question knows the proper way to use the dark art he or she wishes to cast," the raven haired boy replied, now feeling unnerved slightly by the fact that the Gryffindors seemed to agree with him- it seemed everyone but Neville and Ron were sending him encouraging glances.
Then the short lady replied, reluctantly of course, "Ten points to Slytherin, Mister Potter, for being quick of wit and knowing more than you should. Congratulations."
Harry and Blaise shared a grin.
A constellation of divine architecture built on Earth;
A holy harbour - Orion,
Nautical ascension to the firmament.
"Potter."
"Malfoy, Longbottom, Weasel, and Hermione," was the return from the emerald eyed teen as he leaned against the pulled away bricks that lead to the entrance of the Slytherin dorms, "Now why- why would you be here? Oh now- has it something to do with this mornings DADA lesson? Come to brave the serpents' den just because I proved wittier than you? How charming, but I do believe you aren't supposed to tread in enemy waters."
"Listen Potter, we didn't come to exchange pleasentries- you do realize that Umbridge isn't teaching us anything- she's just giving us theories that try to disprove the existence of the dark arts and their counters. So we've come with a proposition of sorts, Potter," Neville ground out, glaring at his and Malfoy's supposed rival.
Suddenly Harry felt the overwhelming pain that had attacked him on the train return in a prickling sensation, "Yes, well what is it? I don't have all night you know; work to do and such."
"We're going to start a secret group to teach DADA to anyone who wants to actually learn, not be bothered," Hermione butt in quickly, "By that professor's theories. So are you in? After all- you would want to learn DADA more than anyone, right? The first meeting is tonight, in the Room of Requirment, I know you know where that is, at midnight. Can you be there?"
"I'll think about it-- Don't-- Worry, I won't tell anyone--" The raven haired teen managed to get out before closings the bricks in the Gryffindors' faces, racing towards his room.
In the sanctum of his own room; with no one to bother him as the door had a special charm on it that prevented anyone from getting in without the owner of the room's permission- the haggard looking teen slid to the floor. He curled into a tight little ball inbetween his dresser and bed, his hands clenching and unclenching wildly. The pain was unreal; like someone had set fire to his flesh and then doused it repeatedly with alternating gasoline and needles. A stinging sensation had begun small in his stomach, but spread out along his arms and legs, only certain traced areas feeling the stabbing pricks while the rest of his body still felt as if it was being burnt alive (or what he assumed it felt like to be burnt alive). The worse part of it was that he could not slip into the blissful peace of being unconscious- oh no, he had to endure the torture his body was being put through. Suddenly something wedged itself from the deep recesses of his mind- something he was not aware of before- a memory it seemed that he had not yet experienced.
He was floating-
Floating amongst the crowd of people; they were not aware of his presence. Humans were never aware of those spirits that drifted aloft the sweet swells of emotion that flowed in the dew- the clouds- the smallest breath- the biggest scream- into the vast Beyond that the mortal creatures had dubbed 'Space'. They could not sense the presence of those not born unto them yet- they could not feel as his hands played in their hair; winding and twisting the strands like a merry breeze. They were walking, marching, to the gallows. The gallows to watch the hanging of a heretic- a witch. In truth he did not understand why the fleeting creatures chose to ostracize their own flesh and blood as abominations just because someone acted different. Didn't understand why they were not accepting; why they could not allow what they didn't understand to exist.
He did not stick around to watch the poor woman have her neck snapped by the rope. The wonderful call, a slight pull on his navel sent him spiraling to his own reality. To gaze at the bright blue and green planet dotted with white below. A voice from behind whispered, "Where did you go, ixyune?"
Turning, he gave a soft smile to the blue-haired man, "I went to see the jyeyt, Seranth. I wanted to understand the people we would live amongst in future times."
Seranth sighed, and placed an arm on the smaller one's shoulders, "Dearest ixyune, you know that things change- the jyeyt can change as well. So, Huinryth, do not think that they are so awful. I for one, have heard the jyeyt's most wonderous songs, tasted their sweetest desserts, and seen acts of kindness that you cannot believe. So you see, ixyune, you have just been looking in the wrong place."
Tilting his head to the side, soft raven hair tickling his lips, he answered his friend, "Or perhaps, I just want to know what to be wary of, Seranth. Perhaps- you should show me these good things of the jyeyt's. Can you?"
Smiling a true, sincere smile at his friend, the blue haired man whispered in the smaller figure's ear, "I would be delighted to, my ixyune Huinryth."
Gasping, trying to take in as much air as possible, he returned from the dream-like memory, the sensations burning into his mind, and the words meaningful to his lips. As the memory that burned in his mind slowly seemed to fade into a regular everyday thought, the last traces of pain flicker away. Strangely he felt more alive than he had ever been; the pain had caused his sense, or so he assumed, to become hyper aware. The smells- the colors- the feeling- and probably the taste- all of it was different than before. Flexing a pale hand before his face, he felt like his body finally belonged to him. Well more than it had before. Suddenly he wondered aloud, "Do I look any different?"
Rushing into his own bathroom, he stared in the mirror. His school clothes hadn't been damaged at all- and his hair was slightly longer, but that was it. Even his eyes were the still mocking emerald, fake to him- and him alone. Glaring at his reflection, he left the bathroom and flopped down on his bed. Looking towards his alarm clock he wondered how long he had been in pain for- the cheap thing read 11:40.
Oddly, he decided to risk it and go to this DADA thing the Gryffindors had devised. And he prayed it wasn't a trap.
The Unicorn arrives with the westwind to dream His funeral--
"Thou art born for Horus dwells in Thee."
Slumbering with the ebb and the flow of this foaming tomb--
"Thou art born for Seteh dwells in Thee."
It had been easy to get to the Room of Requirement; he hadn't run into any professors or unusual things that could have been lurking about. He figured it was thanks to his hyper aware senses (had they just been dull before?)- but still didn't take any chances as he slid into the doors just as they disappeared behind Luna Lovegood. Blinking, the raven haired teen stared at the shocked faces of Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs. As they pointed their wands at him, he had pulled his own out and returned the gesture. "Really? Is this how you treat a guest? I shouldn't have come- Perhaps I should have stuck to the actual dark arts, eh, Longbottom, Malfoy?" He asked cheerfully as the others put down their wands, and he slid his own back in his pocket.
"Potter? I really hadn't expected you to come-" Malfoy said in surprise, glancing down slightly at the dark haired teen.
"You have no faith in me? I did say I would think about it- really, it hurts that you think so little of me, Malfoy," the smaller teen whimpered in a fake woe-is-me tone. A few of the other students snickered at that and others looked at him with disbelieving glances, "What? Are you looking at me after I made a joke, because you think a Slytherin has no sense of humor? I for one, am insulted."
"Yeah- anyways Potter- we were just starting on the Patronus charm, would you like to be the first demonstration? We have a boggart that'll turn into a dementor. What say you, afraid, Slytherin?" Longbottom angrily snapped at the only snake in the den.
Smiling, the one in question walked over to the front of the shaking chest, and quipped, "Sure, just tell me what to do, and I'll do my best, Mr. Professor Longbottom, sir." A few students snickered at that, Malfoy included.
Glaring Longbottom said, "Think of a happy memory, and say 'Expecto Patronum' while pointing your wand at the boggart-dementor. Got it Potter?"
"Indeed I do, Professor Longbottom, sir, yes sir, I do," was the mocking chirpy voice, completely unusual of the Slytherin to the rest of the Houses.
"Alright, release the boggart-dementor," grunted the Boy Who Lived.
The cold was immediate in the area, and Harry swore it was worse for him than anyone else. He tried to bring up a happy memory- one of Sirius and Remus taking him to get his first snake (which had passed away of old age by now)- but the memory from when he had been in pain showed instead. He decided to go with it as, "Expecto Patronum!" left his lips, and a silver mist left the tip of his wand. A faintly humanoid shape appeared amongst the mist, the only deviation from being human was that it had no external features, and tiny curving antlers rose from its head. The boggart-dementor shrieked and retreated back into the chest, the lock clicking shut. The humanoid Patronus turned to Harry- bowed, and vanished as if it had never been there.
Malfoy was the first to clap, and patted his supposed enemy on the back, "Good job, Potter. A strange Patronus indeed, but effective nonetheless. Took me a bit to the find the right memory- but I got it on my second try. My Patronus is a dragon, no shock there. It took Neville a bit, he won't say why though, its probably because he's felt what the dementors can really do. His Patronus is a bear."
"That's nice Draco," muttered the emerald eyed Slytherin, then he blinked, "Er, did I just call you by your first name? No idea where that came from- but I guess its a sign. Perhaps we should call a truce, just until we can get rid of Umbridge? And if it lasts past that- well, then hell, I'd be willing to call you a friend. Maybe- but I could never trust you, because of Golden Boy over there. So, truce?" He held out his hand, tilting his head in question.
Suddenly the blond Gryffindor smiled, and returned the gesture, "Truce then, Harry," then the silver eyed taller teen snorted, "Golden Boy? Is that what you call Neville?"
"Yeah- 'cause he Dumbledork's favorite- he got the Malfoys to the Light- pssh- oh, but that, Draco, is only the nicer of the things we call Longbottom," Harry chirped, ignoring the fact that the Golden Boy was in hearing range.
"You have worse names than that for Nev'? Huh, what are they?" The blond questioned suddenly, leaning over the smaller teen- trying to intimidate Harry into talking.
"Oh no- I shall never tell you! It is far to crude for Gryffindor ears! If it told you, then surely, a dementor would like a daisy compared to what has been spoken about ye ol' Golden Boy!" The Slytherin crowed, laughing at some of the things he had heard, and said. And, he certainly didn't intend to tell anyone in that room. Ever.
Reveal your face to me and guide me through the Stygian fields--
Enthrall my soul to Septet's beams to serve Your will.
Sailing on the distant seas from darkness to deliverance--
Tales like the ocean written to the Draco's glance.
Somehow he had ended up having detention for Umbridge along with Draco and Longbottom. Harry didn't know what to expect when he entered the professor's room, but it hadn't been plates with cats on them hanging on the wall.
The pink wall.
Suddenly, he preferred to see a thousand smiling Gilderoy Lockharts to fluffy kittens. Sending a horrified glance at Draco, he sat in the desk that was on the opposite side of the blond. He turned toward the sitting professor, who smiled at him and said, "Do you know why you are here Mister Potter? Mister Malfoy, and Mister Longbottom already know why they are here."
Returning the smile cheekily, he managed to get out a decent, "Yes, Professor Umbridge, I do know why I am here. I accidentally lied that a dark wizard could come from this very school." Still, the Slytherin knew that every person (and kitten) in the room understood that claiming that what he said was a lie, was the actual lie.
"Good boy. So you three will be writing with a few special quills, 'I must not tell lies.' And how many? As many as it takes to sink in," she sweetly said, handing a blood colored quill to each student.
Unlike Longbottom who decided to ask questions, Harry just started writing with the dry quill, slightly amused as the words begun to form on the page. He was not amused, however, when pain pricked along his opposite hand and the words appeared on the skin and faded away. He glanced up and noted the sadistic look on Umbridge's face, which he returned with an amused smirk. Just to bother the pink puffball. Really, it will never compare to the pain of that night and the train- he thought bitterly, as he continued to right.
He didn't really notice how long he wrote the words for but he looked up when he heard, "Mister Potter, Mister Malfoy, you may both leave. And seeing has you would have had a class right now, you are free to spend the rest of the time as you like."
Grinning, he thanked Professor Umbridge, grabbed his bags and left with Draco following. He would have gotten to the end of the corridor without having anything to do with the blond he had recently made a truce with, until said blond slammed the smaller teen against the nearest wall. "What's with the two-face personality? Sucking up to Umbridge? I thought you wanted to get rid of that short annoying woman-" the blond all but snarled until Harry managed to get a word in.
"Honestly Draco- I would think you at least would get what I was doing. Two-face? That hurts, it really hurts. I do want to get rid of Umbridge; 'sides the job is jinxed either way. But look at it this way- play her game when around the puffball, and no more detention with kittens and evil quills. Simple really," he managed to get in, squirming uncomfortably as the blond still had him pinned to the wall.
After the silver eyed teen appeared to have thought over what the smaller one had said, he released the Slytherin from his grip. "Alright, but next time find someway to explain, really, Harry," the blond muttered, "Sorry about that- I just let the Gryffindor thoughts get to me, I guess."
Grinning slightly, the emerald eyed teen returned, "Hey- It's okay, not even my friends can tell when I'm faking or really meaning something, so no harm done."
Draco simply gave Harry an odd look, which made the smaller teen tilt his head in question, "Something wrong, Draco?"
"It's nothing- just- well, your friends can't even tell? How are you supposed to- you know- have a relationship with someone past friendship, if they can't even tell if your playing with them or not?" The blond asked his acquaintance, truly curious.
Giving the blond a sad smile, Harry replied with a almost unnoticeable broken tone, "Well... I don't really ever intend to have an intimate relationship with anyone. See- I can't stand being alone with a person for more than two hours. And its antagonizing for people to just, well, get close enough for skin-skin contact..."
"Oh," was all Draco could utter at first, and then he realized that he had made a mistake earlier, "I'm sorry about that, Harry."
The other smiled weakly and whispered, "I already told you its fine- besides, you didn't know."
Ruling with the scythe of death you tear our philosophies apart--
An ancient starwalk to merge into the stars.
And finally as the first weekand of November arrived, it was a Hogsmeade weekend. Harry was delighted- finally he would be able to get away from the puffball. Grinning he put on a midnight blue shirt, tight jeans (he didn't care that they were Muggle clothes- they were still nice), and a warm black jacket. Blaise asked him as they headed towards the train, "Oh? Does Harry have a date? Is my little cutie pie finally growing up?"
"No Blaise- I don't have date. Unless you count being around Draco with none of Golden Boy and his lackies, a date. If so, then sure, if not, then no," chirped the Slytherin, since Longbottom wasn't able to go to Hogsmeade, Draco had asked if Harry would go with him. Being a good friend, Harry had agreed, but he wasn't sure if that was his only motive.
"With Draco? Eh- Harry, if you hadn't noticed, he's engaged to the Golden Boy," The taller teen pointed out, as if Harry didn't already know.
"Yes, Blaise, I realize that. But- think about this- if he has some creature blood (like veela) in him like most people think... then he wouldn't be able to be put into a forced marriage, if that person was not his future mate, right?" The younger teen pointed out, looking for the familiar shock of platinum blond.
"Oh yes Harry- there is that. But we're forgetting something here- What was it? Oh I remember- You. Don't. Want. A. Relationship. With. Anyone. Remember? You ranted about girls (and a few guys) asking you out last year," the other Slytherin pointed out sarcastically.
"So?" He grumbled, "I was just pointing out a fact, sheesh." He grinned suddenly, "Oi! Draco! Over here!" The blond he had spotted waved and walked over, pausing when he saw Blaise.
Blaise grinned when he noticed that the blond Gryffindor seemed nervous, and chatted idly with Harry, "Oh and Harry, I forgot to mention that Theo broke up with Pansy because he really had the hots for me, and you know I've had the hots for him, so we got together (and Pansy actually only dated him so he could make me jealous, and so she could make some other guy jealous). This Hogsmeade trip is our first official (and probably legal) date, wish me luck!" Then the Slytherin waltzed away, grinning like a madman over to his boyfriend.
Harry laughed a little at that and turned to Draco, "Don't worry; he's usually like that. Blaise won't bite, much, or well he will if you touch Theo now, I guess."
The blond had a slightly perplexed look on his face but said, "I see."
"Something the matter?" piqued the curious ravenhead.
"Erhm, well, its just... Neville thought this was a date, considering I'm going with someone other than him. Not that he ever takes me to Hogsmeade without Ron or Granger close behind," muttered the blond, "So what do you usually do when you go to Hogsmeade?"
Harry didn't answer but started towards the woods, ignoring the blond's protests of 'the forest isn't safe!' Truth be told- he still thought Draco was annoying, and he only wanted Umbridge gone. The smirk dancing across his face was worthy of the worst Slytherins in history- the bitter air nipping at his face seemed to agree. Leaves having fallen from the trees, their bare black branches reached in a needy desperation towards the sharp blue sky.
A trickle of water running along pebbles told Harry he had shown up where he had intended to go, with Draco close behind. The blond gasped at what he saw- A short tree with branches like fingers stood in a clearing, crisp water running from a bubbling pool from between branches into the field of pebbles. The water was apparently warm; as steam rose from the multi-colored stones where the water flowed and touched. Tiny globs of pale blue light flickered about the steam, chirps and whistles coming from the spheres that circled the tree in a form of a dance.
"Isn't it beautiful?"
"Ye- Yeah. But, Harry, what on earth is this?" The confused blond asked, hoping the other knew.
"This is a nest of Solki, Draco. Solki are- well- cautious beings that came from one of the outer planets of the solar system(which one, he didn't know). Having a love for running water, many of them had settled here on Earth because it is abundant in water. They are dangerous- they will kill anyone who tries to drink from the source of water they live near. Hence no one believing they exist," Harry all but whispered, finding the pale glow soothing.
"Amazing, their so pretty," the blond whispered, ogling at the tiny creatures playing in the steam, rising and falling with the great bursts of warm air.
"That's why I always-"
Stopping mid sentence, the smaller teen collapsed to the frozen ground, grasping his arms tightly. Closing his eyes as the horrible sensation of pain welled up in his stomach again, burning worse at his shoulder blades than anything. The tiny pinpricks of pain that were usually spread out in his body were suddenly focused in certain areas as the blond picked him up. It hurt worse than the other times it had happened because someone was putting pressure on the pricks- so now he swore some invisible force was dragging an iron across his skin slowly in certain areas. He tried to escape from Draco's grip, but that made the pain intensify as Draco held him tighter.
The whisper sounded like a shout, "I'm taking you to Madame Pomfrey, hold on-"
Suddenly it was all too much, and he was able to escape into the bliss of a memory instead of pain.
"Open thy veins for my venom-
Kiss the cobras with thy twisted tongue,
So shalt thou join the empyrean circus,
Where beggars mourn and seraphs dance-
In this twilight cathedral.
Shall I wed thee,
O Bride of the Netherworld?"
He woke to the scent of the infirmary- and judging by the walls he was in a private room. Groggily he sat up, and then snapped his eyes shut before letting out an angry sound at the Gryffindors there. Blaise and Theodore were on the other side of the bed, glaring at Ron, Neville, Draco, and Hermione. "Oh he's awake!" The muggleborn witch squealed, backing away from the bed as Harry slapped his hands over his ears, wincing at the loud tone.
"Why am I here?" he asked, his voice sounding hoarse and unused.
"You collapsed in some kind of fit-" Draco started to say but was cut off by the younger teen.
"I know that, Malfoy. I was wondering, why am I here? In the infirmary? I don't know about you- but I would rather not have the professors- much less other students knowing about such infrequent jolts of pain," hissed the Slytherin, pulling away from the worried students.
"Oh, uhm, well you see- Umbridge took over the school basically, well she can change the rules, when you were out- and saw fit to tell everyone about your condition, so, ah, everyone knows now," Longbottom snorted, sounding smug about it.
"Here comes Umbridge, Dumbledore, and Pomfrey, Harry," muttered Theodore, sending a worried glance toward his fellow Slytherin.
"Would you like to explain why you collapsed in pain, Mister Potter?" Umbridge asked sweetly, as she gave the prone teen a contradicting look. Dumbledore, Pomfrey, and everyone else in the room looked like they wanted to know.
"I want to know that too," the teen snapped irritably, the memories still fresh in his mind.
"Then we'll have to run some tests- there are some creatures in the world that are mixed the magical community that leave the transition of that inheritance, rather painful," Dumbledore said in a sagelike manner, pulling out his wand and pointing it at Harry.
"Oh no- You are not turning me into some lab specimen! No way- Never! Not in a million years with hell frozen over seven times! I've already looked up on all the possible creatures- I'm none of 'em. Memory proves worthy at times of pain, I figure, as what it showed me now proved so," The teen in subject snarled, tensing as he glared fiercely at the wand.
"So you know what you are?" Umbridge asked.
Pulling his knees to his chest, Harry gripped his arms tightly, the horrific memory still burning in the lids of his eyes- and the taste of new flesh and blood still burning his tongue. Shakily he managed to get out, "I know I'm not human. That I never was."
Quickly Dumbledore asked, "What do you mean?"
Slowly the small teen lifted his head up, and unnerved everyone but the Slytherins with his eerie grin, "The Potter's child was never really born."
Sailing on the distant seas...
Join my soul the Hunter in the sky.
a/n: It got crappy towards the end. Oh well. :D This is just so easy to write though, I could go on and on this idea for some reason. I wonder why? But oh well! I probably just jinxed it but, what the hell?
Definitions
(Key: word - English meaning; proper definition)
ixyune - friend/partner; someone you would trust your life with
jyeyt - humans; short-lived beings that are viewed as being lesser
Seranth (name) - depths of the sea; He that dwells in the city of the sea
Huinryth (name)- cries of the broken bird; One that flies the swell on wings of ink
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