Mutant Son
Warnings: Violence. Potentially disturbing.
A.N. So I can't convincingly write Luna but I'm putting her in any way as I believe Harry truly views her as a friend. And it is his birthday. Also surprise second half of this chapter. Harry has a wonderful birthday.
Chapter Fourteen: Prophesized Betrayal
Harry hated being anti-social but he hadn't wanted to face people in this mood. So he hid like a coward until he felt he could hide no more. It was after all his birthday and he knew people would want to celebrate it with him. It was around dinner time when he finally ventured downstairs.
He entered the dining room to see a room full of people: All of the Weasleys except Charlie, Hermione, Remus, McGonagall, Tonks, and, to his surprise, Neville and Luna. They all cried out "Happy Birthday" at once. Harry grinned. These were his friends and mentors.
Bee-lining towards Neville and Luna, both of whom he hadn't seen all summer and who weren't Order members, he greeted them.
"Happy Birthday, Harry," Neville said shaking his hand.
Luna smiled that dazed smile of hers. Harry realized he had missed it. "Yes, Happy Birthday, Harry. You look rather happy. Wrackspurts no longer bothering you?"
"Not at the moment," he replied. He could never remember what wrackspurts actually were. Oh, well. He'd humor her. Harry looked around the room one more time. He was somehow both relieved and hurt that John wasn't there.
Remus walked over, apparently understanding the look on his face. "Tonks went up to fetch him but he didn't answer," he said sympathetically.
Harry shrugged. "Whatever. He'd just glare in the corner."
Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had wandered over to join them. They took their plates of food into the living room where there was space to sit. "Who's 'he'?" Neville asked curiously.
Ron looked around the room, perplexed. "Who do you mean 'he', Neville? There is no one else in the room," he stated densely.
"Oh, honestly, Ron," Ginny sighed out.
Hermione lightly touched his arm. "He means John." She sent him a flirtatious smile. Harry caught her eyes and she shrugged. Apparently John did help.
"Okay, then, who's John?" Neville asked. Harry noticed that since the Department of Mysteries and then the fight last year, Neville had become more confident. Harry liked this new Neville more than ever.
It was Ginny who answered. "Actually, he's You-Know-Who's son," she said plainly. She scowled. "And he acts like it."
Ron looked at her. "I thought you liked him." Harry almost laughed. She had been glaring at John for weeks for some reason unknown to Harry. Ron was even more clueless than he. Harry expected Hermione to make a comment but she only grabbed Ron's hand which was resting near his knee. She rested both of their hands on his knee. Harry smiled, Hermione glared at him, and Ron looked confused.
Luna eyed the two. "It's so nice to see you two together. It's awfully quiet though without you two disagreeing all the time. But I suppose that was flirting." Ron's face turned red and Harry smiled again. He loved his friends. "So You-Know-Who has a son? Harry doesn't agree with Ginny."
Sometimes Harry forgot how easily Luna caught on to things. "In ways, I guess," he responded neutrally. "But he's nice-no that's not the word. I don't know. Likeable enough?"
Ron snorted. "Likeable? He thinks he's God's gift to humanity. Or well the world."
Ginny nodded. Harry was surprised that Hermione didn't argue. He thought she had liked John, and she certainly seemed to be following someone's advice, he had assumed John's.
"Wow," Neville said. "Do you think we'll meet him?" He seemed to offer the question to the room, but Luna was looking at Harry waiting for him to answer.
"Er…I doubt it," Harry began.
"But you two have grown so close," Ginny inserted sarcastically.
Harry thought about glaring at her. He momentarily wondered if she had caught on. But hadn't Remus said she was only suspicious of John?
"Close?" Luna asked absent-mindedly.
"Allerdyce is trying to get into Harry's pants," she put it simply. As Harry blushed spectacularly at how close that was to the truth, he noticed she looked a bit jealous. That left an awkward silence in the room.
"Really?" Neville asked, wide-eyed. "Openly?"
Harry felt he had to end it somehow. It seemed John was rubbing off on him. Harry almost winced at his own choice of words. "He's only messing with me," he claimed. Hermione seemed to be looking at him awfully closely.
Luna offered a light, "Hmmm…" She hadn't even met John and she was suspicious.
Neville changed the topic and they started talking about their summers before the conversation turned to the war. "Did you hear what happened in Diagon Alley?"
The Golden Trio nodded. "We were there," Hermione said. Neville looked partially admiringly at her.
"That fire though…no one has ever seen something like that," he continued. The four who knew what really happened exchanged looks wondering whether to bring up John. Harry came to a decision.
He shrugged. "I guess that's all anyone knows," he lied. Ginny looked questioningly at him, not expecting him to lie to friends. But Harry didn't want to talk about John anymore.
Soon, Mrs. Weasley walked in. "Come on you lot. There's cake."
They all headed in for cake, which promised to be delicious just as all food Mrs. Weasley made was. They all sat around eating cake and chatting. Harry noticed that the conversation seemed to focus on the war or politics. It seemed that the 'adults' now accepted that all six were going to be involved in this war, whether they liked it or not.
The conversation was still going strong at half past eleven when a loud noise came from the hallway. Everyone in the room jumped up. Mrs. Weasley pushed Neville, Ginny, and Luna back. The others rushed into the hall.
It was John. He seemed to be staring at the umbrella stand he had knocked over, apparently entering through the front door. Harry hadn't been aware that he left.
John looked up. "Hello all," he offered slowly.
Remus took a step towards him. "John, we asked you not to leave the house. For your own safety," he partially scolded. But he looked worried.
John shrugged, taking a step, hand still on the wall. "Got bored. I've never followed rules for that long…you know?"
And Harry realized something. John was drunk. Very drunk if his sudden laugh was evidence of anything. Harry pushed past everyone. They had been avoiding each other all day, but this was ridiculous.
"John…are you drunk?" Harry asked, suddenly pissed. John spent almost every night looking for alcohol but he didn't expect John to leave to get it. He put himself in incredible danger. Harry suddenly understood why everyone always got so angry or disappointed with him when he intentionally put himself in harm's way.
"Aw only a little bit," John grinned charmingly. Harry grabbed him by his jacket and dragged him into the living room to his right. It took more effort than he thought it would. How the hell did John get home like this? Everyone watched him curiously before he closed and locked the door, throwing a silencing charm in for good measure.
John was still grinning. "So angry," he commented at Harry's glare.
"What the fuck, John?" He didn't get why John had done this. John got a look on his face before he pushed Harry against the door, leaning in so his mouth was almost touching Harry's, who could smell the strong scent of alcohol on his breath.
"Good choice," he paused as if thinking. It seemed that he was drunk enough that forming coherent thoughts was difficult. "Of words," he finally went on. One of John's hands trailed down until it was over Harry's crotch.
Normally this wouldn't be much of a problem but John was drunk and Harry didn't want anything to happen like that. Harry pushed John's hand away and regained his senses. John didn't struggle but instead leaned so that his head was leaning on the door over Harry's shoulder. John closed his eyes.
Then Harry noticed something. A mark on John's neck. A hickey to be exact. One he knew he hadn't left as the spot was exposed for everyone to see. Harry pushed John back roughly, who stumbled into a chair. There was better lighting there and Harry took in his appearance more.
John's hair was a mess, his lips were swollen, and he hadn't even managed to zip his jeans properly. "You were with someone," Harry accused.
John had the gall to grin again. "You're not putting out," he said plainly. "I found someone who would."
Harry wasn't upset; he was angry. They had both avoided calling this a relationship but still, the emotion was there. John had cheated on him.
"You're such an asshole," Harry said angrily. "I hope you get an STD."
Harry stormed out of the room, past his friends and Remus who had been waiting for him. Hermione tried to stop him, but he brushed past her none too gently. He didn't see the look that passed over John's face as he had stormed away. John's eyes had turned downcast. The look on his face somehow spoke of both determination and regret.
When Harry got to his room, he paced back and forth. Why had he bothered? Why did he get involved with someone he knew had the genes of a monster? Harry spotted the book he had been reading through and launched it against the wall before plopping down on his bed and put his head in his hands. He felt…betrayed. Did he have the right to?
He didn't know how long he had been sitting there for, but there came a frantic knock on the door. "Go away!" he shouted.
"Harry!" it was Hermione's voice. "There's an attack on the Ministry."
At that Harry launched out of bed and whipped his wand out. He opened the door to see Hermione's worried face. He brushed past her again, then turned angrily towards her. "Are you coming?" he asked coldly. She only nodded and they hurried downstairs. John was not there but everyone else seemed to be.
McGonagall spotted Harry. "Potter, good." She turned to the rest of the Order. "This isn't like Diagon Alley. We fight like there will not be a next battle. There will be no time for organization. Just fight."
And at that, the sound of disapparation filled the room as they all entered the battle field, the Ministry of Magic itself. Harry looked around. He wasn't scared, only angry. And his anger was fueling him.
Harry threw curses left and right, at every Death Eater who dared approach him. He wasn't sure what spells he was actually using, running on pure adrenaline and anger. He knew that he was more than just disarming and stunning people. Harry knew he was causing serious damage to the other side. Never once though did a spell that could kill someone pass his lips.
Harry wasn't totally aware of where all the Order members were. This was true chaos, beyond even Diagon Alley. He understood McGonagall's warning now. It wasn't just Order members but also Ministry workers, some who were obviously too scared to fight. And he had never seen so many Death Eaters. He had never known Voldemort had recruited so many followers.
Then he felt something. A searing pain in his scar. Happy Birthday Harry, he thought to himself as he turned to face the Dark Lord.
Hermione noticed when the fight slowed down. It was as if both sides at once came to the conclusion that something important was happening. She followed their lead and her heart jumped. Harry and Voldemort were walking towards each other. Everyone in the room had stopped fighting as they felt the tension. Hatred seemed to be rolling off Harry in waves. Hermione had never been more frightened. But she was frozen like everyone in the room. She was reminded of the Department of Mysteries, when Dumbledore entered and everyone stopped.
A few Death Eaters raised their wands but before anything could be done or the fighting could start again, Voldemort spoke. Hermione had never seen, let alone heard him before, and she was petrified. "The boy's mine," he whispered yet everyone in the room could hear.
Voldemort put up a shield which encircled him and Harry. Hermione's heart practically stopped when she realized that Voldemort had ensured that no one could interfere in the fight. Harry wasn't ready. He was barely seventeen and the Horcruxes were still out there.
"Shall we duel, Potter?" Voldemort asked.
Harry gazed fiercely at him. "That went so well last time," he practically sneered.
Voldemort smiled. "Your anger is intoxicating. Come on Potter. Show me how you feel."
Surprisingly, Voldemort did not shoot a killing curse. He seemed to want to play with Harry.
"Diffindo."
"Impedimenta!"
"Crucio."
"Reducto!"
Harry dodged and blocked spells as they came at him. He was doing well, but Voldemort was holding back, laughing. Harry got angrier and angrier. "Incendio!" he shouted.
Voldemort put out the fire easily and, before Harry could recover, he disarmed Harry wordlessly.
But before the wand could hit the ground, Harry shouted, "Accio!" And it came back.
Voldemort's surprise didn't stop him from reacting, however. With barely a motion of his hand, Harry was on his back and his head made a frightening crack as it came into contact with the floor. His wand remained in his hand until Voldemort strolled over, kicking it away. Harry moved slightly, but before he could do more Voldemort said plainly, "Crucio."
Harry seemed to be attempting to hold back his screams. The Ministry members seemed to stare in horror but a few of the Order members tried frantically to reach Harry. The Death Eaters laughed as they failed but the Order paid no mind as they tried to stop Voldemort. Hermione and Ron shot every spell they knew at the shield. Everyone failed and the Death Eaters simply looked on. They knew Voldemort's shield would hold.
Harry could no longer hold back his screams. Hermione just about cried in fear and frustration but she wouldn't give up. The determined look on Ron's face confirmed that he too would never give up.
Voldemort lifted the curse and laughed. "Potter, you must know that your end is here."
But apparently Harry didn't because against all odds, he stood slowly. Voldemort looked surprised then angry. Hermione's stomach turned in hope but Harry fell back down, only a few feet from where he had been. Voldemort again began to laugh and taunt Harry.
"You fool. You thought you stood a chance. Your father had that same arrogance, but he learned in the end who was his superior. Tell me, Potter, are you ready to be reunited with him?"
"No," he practically whispered. Then before anyone knew what happened, a red light shot from where Harry had somehow obtained his wand. Voldemort barely got a shield up in time but the force of the stunning spell sent him flying back. "Finite Incantantum," Harry whispered before falling back completely.
Before the Death Eaters could react, Ron had reached Harry. Almost as one, the Order, the Ministry, and Ron, holding on to Harry, disapparated in the midst of confusion. The Order had lost; the Ministry had fallen. But not for the first time in her life, Hermione truly believed in the Harry Potter magic.
John had fallen asleep shortly after Ron dragged him upstairs to John's room. If he was in any other state, John would question why it was Ron who had helped him.
John was startled out of sleep and it took him a moment to understand why. There was something going on downstairs. Something bad. Harry, he thought.
Adrenaline and a few hours of sleep propelled his none too sober body into action. He ran downstairs to see McGonagall yelling at people to go home or move out of the way. Ron was carrying Harry who wasn't moving. In the chaos John could just stare. Harry was eerily as still as Moody had been. John actually prayed for the second time in his life. The first time he had prayed for his mother to come back. To not leave him alone with his father. Now he was praying for a boy whose heart he had broken just a few short hours ago.
Finally, people cleared out, sending one last look over to the couch where Ron had laid Harry down. John came back to his senses and ran to Hermione who stood there, pale as a ghost, hands over her mouth. But he saw Harry breathing. Short lived relief washed over him.
"Hermione! Hermione!" John tried to get her attention. She seemed to jump as she was shaken out of whatever state of shock she had been in. "What happened? What happened to Harry?"
Hermione for a moment seemed about to turn away from him, as if she had decided he didn't get to know. But she paused as if seeing something on his face. He knew he didn't look like the cold, cocky fire mutant. He couldn't be bothered with the mask.
"There was a battle at the Ministry," she seemed to find it hard to form words. "You-Know-Who showed up and Harry faced him. God, he faced him!"
She seemed about to collapse but he somehow caught her, though he imagined that was just a reflex. "Then what happened?" John asked, stomach dropping.
"He separated himself and Harry from the rest of the group. No one could reach them and we all just stopped and watched. Powerless," her words were coming faster now. "He played with Harry, like a snake playing with its dinner. Harry did so well." Hermione said, eyes tearing. "And then he disarmed Harry and flung him back. Harry hit his head. Hard. Too hard."
John had somehow stopped breathing. Hermione, on the other hand, took a deep breath. "He tortured Harry. Oh, God he tortured him! We heard the screams but we couldn't get to him. We tried so hard!" This time she really started crying, but John couldn't comfort her. He was listening in shock.
At that moment, a woman who John had never seen came bustling in, quickly followed by Lupin. She even pushed McGonagall out of the way. As she knelt next to Harry's side, Ron moved away to give her room. Ron looked scared to death. The woman started doing stuff with her wand and grabbing vials out of her bag. Doctor, John breathed.
He turned back to Hermione. "How did he get away?" he whispered. Hermione wiped at her eyes before truly looking at John.
"Harry got up. Just for a moment. Harry tricked him," she breathed, eyes locked on John's. "He must've been in terrible pain but he tricked the Dark Lord. Without him noticing, Harry had gotten to his wand. He repelled You-Know-Who back and ended the spell keeping us from getting to him."
"He's going to be okay though, right?" he asked, almost begging her to say yes. That Harry would be fine after a night's sleep. John knew he was being naive but he so desperately needed that to be true.
Hermione sniffed and, in a moment, she and John came to some sort of comraderie only hinted at earlier in the day. Yesterday, John realized. "I don't know," she sounded so small that John actually supported more of her weight. "He hit his head hard and people…people go crazy from prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus Curse." Harry's words from the other night ran through his head: My spell would've caused her endless pain. So much you want to die. It's like your nerves are on fire. It can drive you insane. Trust me, I've had it cast on me.
John didn't know whether he or Hermione tucked her head under his chin. But it only lasted a brief moment; John could no longer support his own weight, let alone hers. He felt like he was falling but Hermione grabbed him and guided him into the chair. She held his hand and they both worried for the boy John was trying desperately not to love.