Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership of Harry Potter, the character, settings or plots that have been born from the magnificent mind of J.K. Rowling. For those too incompetent to understand words longer than two syllables: I do not own Harry Potter.
This is Parseltongue
There will be slash
Beta: angelhitomie
He was lying in a soft and somewhat comfortable bed.
That was the first thing his mind registered upon coming out of the dark obviousness. Harry groaned in his mind as his head throbbed in time with his left arm. "Harry."
His eyes fluttered open at the familiar voice. "Severus." Harry said groggily as he focussed on the somewhat blurry form hovering over him. Onyx eyes were staring down at the other, drifting over as if checking Harry's condition.
"Drink this." He accepted the cup Severus brought to his lips, taking hold of it before tilting it and allowing cool water to slip inside. Harry closed his eyes in momentary bliss; his mouth had been quite dry.
Realising that he was using more than one hand to hold the cup Harry opened his eyes and looked down. He didn't bother to contain his smile, after all only Severus was in the room, upon seeing what his mind had already registered. Two hands were holding the cup.
Draining the cup for the last drop of liquid Harry placed it aside on a small nightstand; more interested in examining the result of the operation rather than speaking with Severus in the moment. By the look of it, it had been a success. He could tap his fingers against each other without any trouble and move his hand easily into different positions. Other than a faint scar from where the hand had been cut off, it was almost like it had been before.
The clearing of a throat reminded Harry that he was in fact not alone, and he beamed up at Severus, only for his smile to die out upon seeing the Potions master's dull expression. "Exactly why did you not find it necessary to inform anyone that you were about to have a vision? We had discussed the risk of this beforehand, you know how much could have gone wrong if you had started moving around while Healer Moonlight was working on you, and yet you said nothing."
Severus was positively glowering at this point, and Harry realised that it was most likely of fear of what could have happened. "I didn't know that one was on its way." Harry looked back at his hand as he spoke, but now his thoughts were elsewhere than the apparently successful operation. Why hadn't there been any warning? Normally he would be aware of the hints, especially of the headaches that came if he waited for too long. But this time there had been nothing that could possibly have alerted him of a vision being on its way.
It was strange, and Harry certainly did not like it. Then again, it was the first vision he had had since his body had been declared free for all kind of potions, so it might explain why he only now experienced any kind of difference.
"Elaborate."
"I think that Dumbledore's potion did something. It seems like when I use it, it changes something. First it caused my visions to come more frequent." This could really become an annoyance. "When I brewed it myself, I could suddenly move around despite being a part of a vision, and this time there was no warning." While speaking his fingers traced the white scar. This was a change he wasn't sure what to make of. If he didn't get a warning for when a vision came, how was he supposed to postpone them to a more convenient time?
Severus settled down on a small wooden chair right next to the bed where Harry sat. The Potions master pinched the bridge of his nose, looking tempted to start yelling at someone, unfortunately for him, only Harry was in the room, and so the man pushed the urge down. "This is one of the things you are supposed to inform me about, how shall I otherwise be able to look after your best interest, brat?" Harry gave an embarrassed shrug, not sure of how he was supposed to react to the question.
"I fell." At Severus' confused look Harry continued. "In my vision, the floor gave out under me and I fell. I couldn't tell where I was, but there were other people around me and something had happened beforehand so there was so much dirt in the air that I could hardly see anything. Then I awoke." It annoyed him to no end when he had so little information. For all he knew, his vision could be happening the next moment, and they wouldn't have a chance to prepare for it. "I think there had been some kind of attack, it sounded like people were duelling."
His hand was grabbed and forced gently away from where it had been rubbing his wrist in an almost obsessed manner. "It is as good as new, tomorrow you can be back at brewing again." At this, Harry's smile returned. The vision could come whenever it wanted and he could deal with it when it came to that, but the fact that he would be brewing potions again when he for a time had feared that that part of his life was over, was truly wonderful news.
It seemed like Severus had come to the same realisation as Harry did, with as little information as they had, they weren't able to do much to hinder what he had seen. The best they could do for now was to act the way they normally did and wait to see what would happen. After all, he had visions that either didn't happen, or some which didn't become fulfilled before years had passed.
The Healer burst through the door, his arms loaded with papers and pamphlets, looking rather flushed. "Alright, I have gotten it all, I think. Now, all we have to do is wait for the patient to-" Moonlight looked up and froze upon seeing Harry awake and sitting half up. Or perhaps it was the wand Severus had pointed directly at his chest, a nasty curse undoubtedly on his tongue. "Ah, I see that you are already up, so let us get started already. It will probably please you to know that the operation went well, despite some unexpected bumps on the road. How are you feeling?"
It was probably the vision the man was hinting on. But not having witnessed it, Harry had no idea of what the man saw while Harry had been out of it. "Tried and a little sore, but otherwise I'm fine." He stopped rubbing his wrist. "So, when can I leave?" He looked from Severus to Healer Moonlight, unsure which one of them was having the say in this matter.
"As soon as we are done with the tests we will be leaving." From the way Healer Moonlight pursed his lips, the man did not agree with Severus' statement, but he wisely refrained from commenting. Severus had probably made his opinion quite clear on this matter
The Healer cleared his throat and placed his load on a nearby table, not looking entirely satisfied with the situation. "Very well then, shall we get started? There are a few tests you have to complete, and, depending on the result of these, we will see if you are being let out today."
The tests proved to be rather similar to what Harry had already done. He had to pick up something, with one or both hands, tap his fingers against each other and so on. "It seems as if everything is in order." The Healer finally said as he looked over the notes he had taken while making Harry go through a series of exercises. "In fact, this can be considered quite remarkable. Everything is in a working condition, the nerves are functioning fine and you should be able to last longer the more you use your left hand. Normally we get the best result when the limb is reattached within the first hour. Perhaps we should do a few more tests so I can see what causes this." Quickly Harry hid his hands behind his back, not liking the look Healer Moonlight was giving him.
"If it is not on the routine, then I think that we are done here. Let us get going, Severus, I am in the mood for ice cream. Thanks for the help Healer, and I really hope that we don't get to see each other again in this kind of environment." Determined not to stay a second longer Harry jumped down from the examination table and had walked out of the room before the Healer had the chance to utter a word of protest.
Being on the fourth floor gave him a good view over Muggle London; though Harry found his attention drifting from the view to the people he passed on his walk. A wizard led by a mediwitch, his hooves resounding with each step he took. A child whom had somehow gotten a second nose to grow in the middle of his forehead, though it looked like his parents were more bothered by this than the child himself was.
Keeping his eyes on the people he passed instead of where he was going, proved to be a bad idea when his hand was grabbed and moved up and down in a furious manner. "Well, I have never. You're the seer, Harry Potter, right?"
The... man's? teeth were straight and shiny in a way he couldn't have achieved in a natural way. His violet coloured robes complimented his wavy blond hair, and gave Harry the feeling that the man used more time in front of a mirror than even Draco was willing to do. "Do I know you?" He asked, after the man still hadn't let go of his hand, wondering if he should alert some of the staff that one of their patients seemed to have snuck away from supervision.
The man faltered for a moment before picking his joyful smile up in the next second. "Pardon me, I think I misheard you, after all I am quite a well known person, having won the Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award five times already and receiving the Order of Merlin, Third Class."
Harry found a picture showed into his free hand, annoyingly enough the man was still keeping a hold on his right one, as if he knew that Harry would leave if given the chance. Taking a peek at the picture, Harry raised a brow seeing that it was merely a self-portrait of the man in front of him, waving and grinning charmingly at him. "Gilderoy Lockhart."
If possible, the real version's smile was even more blinding that the one from the picture. "I knew that you had heard of me, no need to play shy, my fan base is worldwide and I know that I have fans of all ages. Perhaps, you have read my latest book, Walking with Werewolves, it's a bestseller already, and I only finished it last week."
"Actually, your name was on the picture." His hand had started turning numb from the pressure put on it, and no matter how Harry discretely tried to pull it free, Lockhart simply wasn't letting go of him.
"It also says that you are not dangerous without a wand, and if found wandering around you should be escorted back to St. Mungo's." Apparently, this was not a one-time occurrence. Harry could easily imagine the chaos he could wreck slipping away from the hospital, but if Lockhart got out among Muggles, exactly how were they supposed to return him to a place they weren't able to find.
Whoever had written this probably hoped that Lockhart wouldn't return at all.
With a merry laugh, Lockhart tried to drag him down a side-corridor, frowning when Harry didn't bulge out of place. "That is something Mathilde has written on all my photos. She is a die-hard fan of mine." Lockhart leaned closer and whispered to him. "She comes every day to visit me, claims to be a Healer, but I have seen through her ploy. Really, there is no reason for her to make up stories to get some time with me; I always have time for a fan of mine. But I play along, do not let this go any further, but I think that the girl is a little touched in the head, if you get what I mean."
Harry wisely stayed quiet. To him, it was Lockhart whom there was something wrong with rather than this Mathilde. "How about we go to my room and play a few scenes from my new book? It's not something I offer to just anyone, so I understand that you are speechless, shall we get going?" This time, when Lockhart pulled, Harry found himself stumbling a few steps along before he found his balance and leaned backwards to stop them from going further.
When Lockhart turned around to face him his frown was more pronounced than it had been before. "As fascinating as this sound, I really have better things to do." To his annoyance, Harry noticed that the corridor they were in was void of people. How strange, he was sure that there had been others when he ran into this man, and they hadn't moved all that much around.
Harry could feel a tick start when Lockhart's insisting tugging didn't perish. The whole situation had gotten rather suspicious. Why did the man want him alone? There was no one where they were, but at least here there was a chance of someone passing by. There was no way that he would be going anywhere with this one, with his kind of luck he was probably someone the Order had snuck in to kidnap him.
"Let go of me."
"Huh, what did you say?" Harry didn't waste time to repeat himself, if this really was someone from the Order of the Phoenix; he couldn't effort letting his guard down around him. Twisting his captured hand around, Harry grabbed the sleeve of the man's robe with both of his own hands. Taking a step closer to Lockhart, Harry turned around and bowed swiftly. Thought Lockhart was built bigger than him, the man went sailing through the air rather easily.
Already before Lockhart hit the floor, Harry was on the move. He didn't intend to stay here for a moment longer. The best choice of action would be to find somewhere with more people and then wait for Severus to find him. A kidnapping attempt would be harder to complete if he was around witnesses.
A groan sounded behind him, but Harry ignored it. If Lockhart was a spy for Dumbledore, he deserved more than what Harry had done to him.
But if he really was a patient in this place...
Well, he should know better than to try and drag of with random people, so Harry wasn't feeling bad about what he had done.
As a pair of Healers rushed in the direction Harry had come from, the seer bowed his head and sped up. If Lockhart really was a patient, he didn't want to be near the crime scene when those responsible for the man finally found him. Harry had a feeling that they didn't take to well to have their patients manhandled, even if it technically was the person's own fault.
Still, he was surprised how easy it had been to throw around the man, even though his whole left arm was now regretting the action, reminding Harry of Healer Moonlight's order to rest it for a day or two.
Harry found his way down the ground floor without getting stopped by more people, much to his own relief. Like every other part of the hospital, there was plenty of people in the reception, most of them in here waiting for their turn to see a Healer, or being there as support to those who waited.
Stopping a little away from the corridor he came from, Harry let his gaze wander until he found whom he had been looking for. Severus towered over most others, and the dark aura made people steer clear of him, almost unconscious. From the way Severus' eyes were wandering, Harry knew that Severus was trying to look for him discretely. Thankfully, Severus wasn't one to raise the alarm unless he absolutely had to do so. But by the looks of it, the man was about to reach the point where he would do just that.
Ducking his head Harry moved forward, avoiding to touch people. He didn't want to draw more attention to himself than he had already managed to do. It was better to get on the move before Severus decided that he was done with waiting.
He reached Severus' side while the man was looking in the opposite direction. "So, are we getting that ice cream or what?" He had to jump back as Severus snapped around, his robes twisting with the move. Seeing the dark expression on his companion's face, Harry found himself taking another step back. Right now, he had the feeling that Severus couldn't be hold responsible for his actions.
"Where have you been?" Harry didn't attempt to dodge when Severus grabbed onto his wrist, thankfully the right one. "I take my eyes off of you for one second, and you manage to disappear. I suppose that I should praise myself lucky that you did not get yourself involved in new trouble."
Harry forgot all about his awkwardness that Severus knew that he could get into trouble no matter when he caught pieces from a conversation between a pair of Healers nearby. Apparently, Lockhart had been discovered, and they were debating whether the man suffered from another one of his delusions, or if the patient had actually been attacked by a green creature because he hadn't been quick enough to hand out his autograph.
It seemed like now was a good time for them to get on the move.
"How about we go and get that ice cream and then you can continue berating me about how irresponsible I am?" As he spoke, Harry started to drag off with Severus. By the eyebrow that was raised at him, Harry knew that Severus had figured that he had gotten into something he wasn't supposed to. Luckily for Harry, Severus didn't stop him from dragging him along.
"I swear that sometimes you exist to give me grey hairs."
"Only sometimes? You wound me, I seriously consider it a full-time job, and I don't even get paid for it." Harry just grinned, not the least bothered by the smack to the back of the head his comment earned him.
It was just one of Severus' strange ways to express his love for him.
)00(
Maybe asking Dobby for help to get dressed couldn't be considered his greatest idea.
"The great master Harry Potter is looking good." He really wished that he could share the house-elf's enthusiasm, but looking at his image in the mirror, Harry knew that he would have to do something, or he would not be leaving the room. And then Draco would be indirectly responsible for his too early death, because Harry knew that Draco would kill him if he did not show up.
Then again, his blond friend might just murder him anyway if he showed up looking like a Christmas tree having been set on fire. Really, he wondered where Dobby had gotten those clothes from, because Harry was sure that they hadn't been in his dresser.
Harry mustered a smile and bent down to pat Dobby on top of his head. "Yeah, looks great."He wondered if all house-elves thought that this was fashionable. Or, perhaps their bad taste was a well thought plan to humiliate their humans as revenge for having to serve others without getting paid for it.
He would have to look into it at some point.
"How about you go and see if some of the other elves need help with something? I'm almost done and the rest isn't something I can't handle on my own." Behind his back, Harry had crossed his fingers, hoping that Dobby would go away. He didn't want to hurt the little guy's feelings, but if Dobby didn't leave soon, he wouldn't have time to redress.
Dobby tugged at his ears, looking doubtful. "If great master Harry Potter is being sure." At Harry's eager nod, Dobby dipped down in a bow, his nose almost touching the floor before he popped away, leaving Harry alone in the room.
Knowing that he had limited time, Harry stripped on his way back to the dresser, the disregarded clothes disappearing the moment they touched the floor. Sometimes, one just got to love magic.
He found robes that he hoped would not make him stand out too much, considering that they were dark green, almost black, and of a fine quality, Harry doubted very much that it would happen. Hurriedly, he started pulling it over his head, figuring that this method was much faster than if he had to unbutton the whole thing before putting it on and doing all the buttons again.
"This is a sight, I could get used to." Startled, Harry turned around, or at least he attempted to do so. As he moved, his arms, stretched out as he was bending forward in his attempt to put on his robe, smacked against the door of the dresser. Grumbling Harry stumbled and stepped on something that moved and felt scaly, he started falling.
Hands grabbed him and steadied him before Harry could fall the whole way. "Was that really necessary?" He swatted Voldemort's hands away as they seemed more interested in getting under his robe rather than help him with straightening out any wrinkles in the fabric.
"Of course." A smirk played on Voldemort's lips as he stepped up behind Harry, his back pressing against the other's chest. Warm arms wrapped themselves around his chest, easily keeping Harry from moving away, not that the seer was interested in doing so. Instead, he enjoyed the shiver that ran down his spine as Voldemort blew hot air onto his ear. "Do you know how irresistible you look like this, in my power?"
Harry, who had been leaning into Voldemort's embrace, frowned at his words. "We don't have time for this." Though wanting to, Harry was unable to put much conviction into his voice, he blamed it fully on Voldemort's hands which had found their way under his robe and to his nipples.
"A Dark Lord is never late."
Harry rolled his eyes as he turned around to face the wizard and placed his arms around the other's neck. "That's not true, and even if it was, I'm not a Dark Lord and thus I can be late." Smug, he started placing butterfly kisses along Voldemort's jaw. "And Draco is going to be mad if I don't show up on time."
He squeaked and wrapped his legs around Voldemort when he found himself being lifted by his waist. "You really shouldn't mention another man when we are intimate." Despite the growl Voldemort emitted, Harry smiled, not the least bothered when both of them were naked.
"Then you should do something so I won't have a reason to think about others." Harry taunted, knowing that it was not his wisest choice of action. Voldemort could be jealous enough without a reason, and here Harry was handing him plenty of reason to be so.
But Harry couldn't claim that he didn't like the result as he found himself on his back on the sofa, with Voldemort over him, covering every inch of the seer's body with his own. "It has been long since we have had intercourse, are you sure that you are ready for it?"
Harry felt a rising urge to hit someone, and he didn't hesitate to do so and slap Voldemort on the shoulder. "Stop treating me like some fair lady, I aren't going to break." That seemed enough for Voldemort as they met halfway and crashed their mouths together in a kiss that involved more teeth than soft touches.
He licked his lips when they pulled apart, not at all surprised by tasting blood, Voldemort had some smeared around his mouth, but whom it belonged to, Harry wasn't so sure about. He lifted his head further to get to Voldemort's neck, magic and robes would easily hide any marks they left. Harry nipped, licked and nibbled, not leaving any of the skin untouched, and he could feel that Voldemort's wasn't unaffected by his ministrations. "Are you sure that you should not take it easy?" Even as he asked, Voldemort's hands were wandering downwards, taking hold of his awakening erection.
Harry arched his back at the feeling, knowing that Voldemort was taunting him. "Is it your way of getting out of this without admitting that you're getting old? I mean, I understand if you want to stop now, when one reaches a certain age they can't expect to perform at the same level as they could in their youth." By now Harry was so hard that it had started to hurt.
A hand in his hair yanked Harry's head to the side, leaving his throat bare for Voldemort to start working on it with his mouth. "You talk too much." The hand left his hair, and, after a low mutter, Harry felt a sleek finger lazily tracing circles around his hole, pressing just enough to make him aware of it but without penetrating. "Relax." No more was said before Voldemort pushed inside.
Harry opened his mouth in a silent gasp. The lotion wasn't anywhere near enough to stop the burn, especially not considering how long it had been since they had been doing this. Thankfully, the pain was nowhere near what he had felt the first time with Voldemort.
A second finger was added before Harry had gotten comfortable with the first one, and then another one. Despite the burn that followed, Harry moved in tact to the fingers, until Voldemort managed to hook his fingers just right to reach his prostate.
Voldemort pulled his fingers out just as Harry was dangerously close to coming, making the seer let out a long string of swearwords at the sudden lack of anything inside him.
Soon enough, the tip of Voldemort's cock nudged against the tight ring of muscles in his arse, this time Harry was prepared for the pain that followed when Voldemort pushed inside fully.
Harry made a sound that he didn't even know was humanly possible and they both paused their movements, waiting for each other to get used to the sensation.
It didn't take long for the initial pain to subside and Harry simply enjoyed the sensation of being stuffed full. Harry was well aware that he was muttering nonsensical things, but he didn't care, because it felt great. "Move, I need you to... just move." He wasn't begging, not really. More like he was recommending the best course of actions to Voldemort.
By the look of his face, not even Voldemort would believe what he was thinking right now. When Voldemort didn't comply, Harry tried to move, only to stop again with a wince. His hands were moving across Voldemort back and shoulders, while the man's own were rubbing calming circles on his legs, urging Harry to relax.
With a deep breath Harry tried again, this time it worked better as he felt Voldemort's cock sink fully in. Seeing the concentrated look on Voldemort's face, Harry smirked and moved again, wanting to see if he could break the man's control.
The plan kind of backfired when it made the cock inside him brush against his prostate and Harry moaned. "Impatient little minx." Said Voldemort, kissing Harry's forehead as he started moving.
"Shut up." Harry snapped back, grunting as he glared at Voldemort.
They kissed again, letting their tongues battle instead of wasting more time with speaking. Voldemort grunted in time with every thrust of the hips, and Harry couldn't quite withhold his yells as his prostate was getting abused.
Another hit and Harry came, spilling seed across his heaving chest and stomach, ripping a sop from him. He felt Voldemort come inside him shortly after. His body shook when he fell back onto the couch with an inhale.
Voldemort pulled out before flopping down onto him, smearing come onto both of them.
Harry lay for a while like that, keeping his eyes closed as he tried to calm his breath. On top of him, Voldemort was moving around. Harry cracked his eyes open when he felt his left arm being grabbed and something cold encircled his wrist.
It was his bracelet, the one he thought had been left in the forest when he had been kidnapped by the Order of the Phoenix. "You know, we are going to be late now." He didn't need to say his thanks for getting the piece of jewellery back. Voldemort knew him well enough to be able to read it from Harry's expression alone.
"A Dark Lord is never late." Came the muttered response as a nose burrowed into the side of his neck and Harry grinned, deciding to stop speaking and simply enjoy the afterglow.
)00(
"You're late." Harry used a moment to regain his balance, not surprised that Draco ambushed him the moment he was spit out of the fireplace.
But the blond was speaking calmly and didn't pounce him as Harry had expected him to do, probably due to the people around them. Even Harry could feel the weight of their stares, making him stiffen and shift uncomfortably. Luckily their attention was soon turned back to what they had been occupied with before his arrival.
Laughing softly, Harry scratched his cheek with one finger. "Sorry about that. Someone decided that they had some last minute business they needed to take care of." At this Harry directed a pointed glare at Voldemort, who had stepped out of the fireplace just in time to hear what Harry said.
The Dark Lord offered a curt nod to Draco's bow as he stepped up beside Harry and glowered down at him. "It lasted more than a minute, my little seer. Or perhaps you need to get your memory refreshed?" Not for the first time Harry was glad that Voldemort insisted they conversed in Parseltongue. There were just some things he preferred that others didn't know, though he supposed it would be his own fault for taunting Voldemort.
Completely ignoring the hand that rested rather low on his backside, Harry turned back to his friend with a bright smile. "Happy birthday, by the way." With that said Harry produced a small vial filled to the brink with golden liquid.
"Felix Felicis." The blond said after a moment of silence, and then his eyes snapped up to look at Harry with a somewhat disturbing expression. "Any particularly reason to why you are giving me this?"
Huffing, Harry crossed his arms, not really feeling offended by the question. It was an unusual gift; he would agree to that much. But even with the money in his vault, Harry hadn't been able to think of something good to buy for his friend, so in the end he had ended up brewing the potion instead. "It's useful. And no comments about certain others having more need for it." He hastily added the last part upon seeing the look on Draco's face. Knowing his friend, Draco would comment on his own need to get some of the potion with all the trouble Harry got himself into. Luckily, Draco was wise enough to keep his tongue. Really, Harry knew that he wasn't as bad as the blond liked to make him seem to be.
Denial wasn't just a river in Egypt.
"Anyway, happy birthday." Harry cleared his throat, trying not to let his discomfort show too much through. With Voldemort's appearance, the attention was back on them. Perhaps he should have paid a little more attention to what Severus had told him about those kind of occasions while they had been enjoying the ice cream at St Mungo's. The Ministry Ball had been bad enough in Harry's opinion, though he had gotten rid of Slughorn thanks to that, so Harry supposed that it hadn't been a too horrid experience. It didn't help the fact that he felt as if he was out in deep water.
"Congratulation on turning seventeen, heir Malfoy, as I am certain that you have other guests to attend to, we will move on. After all, not even a birthday can excuse one from their duties." Harry found himself steered away from where Draco stood before more words could be exchanged.
"Was that necessary? I wasn't done talking to him." Despite his annoyance at being led around, Harry kept his voice low, well aware of the attention paid to them. The fact that he was conversing in Parseltongue went completely over Harry's head.
Even with the arm around his midsection, Harry felt tense and unable to relax. "It wouldn't have been proper to hook all of the host's attention. And this is an optimal opportunity to introduce you to more people. With how rarely you have showed your face some of them might start believing that you are someone created to ward of marriage proposals."
Harry sorely wanted to point out that it hardly could be considered his fault, he didn't even like this kind of events and he would have found a reason not to come if not because it was Draco's birthday. And he could only easily imagine Voldemort do something like inventing an imaginary lover, only too many witches were planning on getting their daughters hooked up with the most powerful man in Great Britain.
The thought of a young witch, for some reason he kept picturing the youngest Greengrass witch, where he was made Harry send a warning glare around the room. Voldemort might be a pain in the arse both figurative and literate, but Harry would be dammed the day he let Voldemort become someone else's pain.
His glare only intensified when they were approached by two witches, one of them, Harry recognised as a year mate to Draco, even from the same house as his blond friend, though Harry never had gotten the chance to talk to her.
The other witch, obviously her mother by the way she looked like a future version of the girl, swept down in a deep curtsy. "My Lord, it is truly an honour to see you here. My Lord remembers my daughter from the last time, yes? Millicent here will be at her last year at Hogwarts after this summer."
At her mother's nudge the daughter copied her curtsy, letting Harry getting a good view of the cut in her dress, making the seer look away until she had righted herself. Really, if she wanted to go so low, she shouldn't be wearing a dress made that way. Bellatrix did it, but she was also build a way that it complimented her.
Realising just whom it was he was thinking about, Harry shook his head violently, earning a pointed look from Voldemort. Clearly, this wasn't a part of how one was supposed to act when being in this crowd.
"Greetings." Harry merely said, not sure of what else he was supposed to say. Really, the two witches' attention was all on Voldemort, making Harry wonder if he had accidentally slipped on an Invisibility Cloak without realising it. But their attitude made his hackles raise, however, until they actually did something he would refrain from doing anything to scare them away.
It didn't hinder Harry in locating the nearest servant carrying refreshments. If nothing else, he could always grab a drink and dump it on her. Did she really believe that if she blinked like that Voldemort would fall for her? Sweep her up and carry off with her while proclaiming his undying love to her?
Perhaps he should get that drink and actually drink it instead of considering dumping it on anyone; he needed it with the kind of thoughts that occupied his mind tonight.
Instead he dipped his head to the two witches with a stiff smile. "I don't believe that we have been introduced, I'm Harry Potter." Millicent's eyes fluttered over to him uncertainly before going back to Voldemort, opting not give another reaction than a curt nod back. It was the briefest she could get away with without being called outright rude.
However, it seemed like her mother didn't have the same courtesy. "You're the son of James Potter, right? I heard that not only did he decide to side with that Dumbledore, but he also disregarded everything that defines a proud pureblood, married a mudblood and had an offspring."
Harry held absolutely no love for his late parents. They had donated the necessary DNA combination to create his body, but they hadn't had much, if anything, to do with the person he had turned into.
That didn't mean that he accepted any insults some random witch decided to spur of. "I can't speak for James or Lily Potter, since I never got the chance to really know them. For all I care, they could have been the worst people on this Earth. But the Potters in general have been a high standing family, striving to improve their wealth and influence to be able to do what they believe in. And there are plenty of proofs that new blood is a good thing." He started listed off his fingers as he spoke. "It prevents inbreeding, with new blood in it often gives the magic a boost, and it can give rather unexpected results." His visions were a very good example of that, though Harry was not sure whether it was because of his mother's blood or because his luck simply worked that way."
"As you can hear, Lord Harry Potter is quite passionate about this subject." Harry sent a glare Voldemort's way, not too happy about being interrupted. It wasn't because he really cared about what those people thought, but he would not just stand by and let himself be insulted. Besides, if those people carried on marrying to their second cousins and whatnot, their kind would die out soon enough. "However, I believe that you have not been properly presented for each other. "Harry, this is Lady Violetta Bulstrode and her daughter Millicent Bulstrode. Ladies, this is Lord Harry Potter, my bonded and seer." Harry managed a somewhat awkward smile to the two women, glad that Voldemort had decided to butt in. He was well aware that he probably had broken several courtesy rules, but found it hard to care about it. Really, he only continued what the woman had started.
And, apparently, Voldemort was going to put an end on it as he turned his hawklike gaze on Millicent Bulstrode, his expression not promising anything good. "From your mother's words I can understand that you were not one of those selected to take their N.E. exams a year early."
Harry stayed quiet, not sure whether he should be gleeful because the witches' wish for attention hadn't turned out they had hope for, or pitying Millicent because she was being degraded by said Dark Lord. Giving the not so subtle glances thrown at them, Harry was more inclined towards the later.
Right now she didn't seem that much of a threat to him.
"Well, this has been an enlightening talk, the night is short and there is plenty to do." So, Harry offered Millicent an encouraging smile despite knowing that it went unnoticed by the down faced Slytherin girl, before grabbing the man's arm and dragging off with him.
Voldemort allowed it for exactly three seconds before moving so it looked like he was the one leading them. Meanwhile, Harry was only too aware of the smugness radiating from the man. "Jealous much?"
"Of course not, but I don't see a reason to humiliate someone who can't even defend herself properly." Granted, it took a special type of person to keep up with Voldemort when the man first got started on something. Harry had heard rumours of how Voldemort had turned politicians to tears after a single conversation because he was feeling bored. A schoolgirl never really stood a chance in the first place.
Now that he thought about it, Harry was definitely feeling sorry for Millicent.
Harry's mood soon turned sour when he came to the realisation that Voldemort apparently intended to introduce him to every single guest of the party. The man had been serious when claiming that Harry was too unknown, something he clearly had decided to do something about.
Harry grabbed the chance to flee when Voldemort was momentarily distracted by choosing drink. With a grin on his face he slipped away, disappearing in the crowd by the time Voldemort turned back again, a glass of Ogden's Finest in his hand.
The seer moved quickly, trying not to disturb the people he passed until he found himself leaning against a beige coloured wall with a plant to his left that shaded him from the view of people that might be looking for him.
When he had accepted the invitation, this wasn't what he had expected. On the other hand, Harry hadn't been sure what he was supposed to expect seeing as he pretty much knew nothing about those things other than very briefly through his visions, and what he had heard from Draco. But having to follow Voldemort around, being introduced to strangers and then asked about his visions when they realised that he indeed was a real seer, that was not Harry's version of fun. He would rather celebrate Draco's birthday the way they had done it the previous years, where the blond would come on visit, and they would enjoy a day in the privacy of Severus' quarters.
Severus passing by so close that Harry would only have to reach his arm out to touch the dour looking Potions master, made Harry realise that his current spot was not the best place to stay if he wanted to avoid being dragged back by the ear by his guardian.
Silent as those shadows he was currently hiding within, Harry opened a glass door just enough for him to get through and slipped out before the cooling evening air let inside could be noticed by anyone.
The balcony he found himself on was made of white marble, not really surprising Harry since this was Malfoy manor. If anything, they would use their home as another mean to show their superior wealth of to the people who were visiting.
He crossed walked away from the light cast on the ground from the windows and door, only stopping when he reached the banister, leaning against it and allowing himself to find peace while glancing over the view.
The sun was mostly set, colouring only a little part of the sky in blue, red, yellow, orange and even some purple, the rest of it almost completely black with stars on it. It was a beautiful view, no doubt about that. Combined with the garden, he could understand why Draco sometimes acted like a stuck up prat when he got to enjoy a view like this.
Movements in the garden caught Harry's attention and he leaned forward against the banister to get a better look at whatever it was he had seen moving around.
Spotting it again, this time closer, but still behind the thick bushes, Harry placed a foot on the banister and levelled himself up, hoping that the extra height would give him a better chance of seeing what was moving around in the garden.
While he now had a better view of the garden, the many plants still hindered him in seeing the thing's full form; the only thing he could say for sure was that there was more than one of those.
Grumbling under his breath Harry climbed down while his hand slipped into one of his pockets. Really, just because Voldemort had chosen those robes for him, didn't mean that Harry had come unprepared. With all the time he had spent inside the room, getting restored back to health, he had used the opportunity to slip a few necessary potions into the pockets of most of his clothes. Peeves had been rather helpful with smuggling the potions from the storage and too him. He would have asked Dobby for help too, since a house-elf would have had an easier time transporting said potions without getting noticed by anyone, if not because he knew that Dobby would not condemn such activities.
He grinned as he looked down on the vial he had found. While Doxycide was mostly used against Doxies, it was also rather useful as an offensive weapon. If shaken enough, it exploded and would cause painful boils at every part of skin it touched. Having tried it on himself on accident, Harry knew only too well that the process of getting rid of those boils were the worst part of it, and made worse when one of the boils accidentally popped.
And all the while Severus had been by his bedside, berating him for adding bat blood instead of bat spleen.
Harry grimaced at the memory, instead refocusing on his targets. They were still too far away for him to be willing to throw yet, but if he went back to alert people that something would go on, it would alert them that he knew they were there.
Not that he had been subtle about it so far, what with standing on the banister and making a show out of finding the correct potion. He might as well have put a big neon sign up to tell them that he was aware of their presence.
Of course, if it was someone from the Order of the Phoenix, chances were that the sign would go unnoticed by them.
A nearby bush rustled, and Harry's arm gave a jerk, ready to throw the potion as soon as he got a clear view of the target. Along with doing some damage, it would alert those inside that they were under attack, though he would really like to know how those intruders had managed to make their way past the wards surrounding the manor.
"What are you doing out here, Scar-head?" Cursing, Harry tightened his grip on the bottle that had nearly slipped from his fingers in surprise. He hadn't heard Draco sneak up behind him, and as a result he had almost gotten the two of them blown to pieces.
Turning half around, so he could face Draco while still keeping an eye on the movements in the garden. "I just needed some fresh air, it got rather stuffy in there." He said with a vague wave of the hand. The one with the potion he kept behind his back, knowing that Draco would know what he intended to do if the blond saw what he was holding. He needed to get Draco inside before the intruders could do anything to him.
But Draco seemed completely unaware of what Harry was trying to communicate to him through the eyes alone as the birthday boy came up next to him and leaned against the banister in a similar way to how Harry had been doing when he got out. "You get no pity from me, this is the kind of things I have had to deal with from before I was old enough to understand what went on." The blond drawled, his eyes fastening on some point of the garden. Harry waited with bated breath, perhaps Draco would notice that something was wrong without Harry having to hint about it?
But Draco still showed no sign of understanding when giving him a soft smile. "Still, with everything that has been going on, it is nice that we get to spend some time like this. Now that I think about it, it is the first time that we have gotten to be together on my birthday." Harry nodded tensely, only listening with one ear as Draco was talking, his attention still on their surroundings, prepared for the time when the attack would come.
"Say, are those peacocks really so fascinating that you are ignoring what I say?" Yeah, peacocks, his brain halted at that, mulling over the words a few times before Harry fully realised what Draco had said.
"Peacocks?"
With a grin Draco pointed toward the bush that Harry had been observing closely for the past five minutes, knowing from the movements that someone was hiding in there. As if having received a signal an albino peafowl stepped out from the bush, its long tail standing and spreading out.
Harry blinked and quietly slipped the potion back into his pockets where he easily would be able to reach it again should it prove to be necessary.
Somehow he wasn't all that surprised that Draco had this kind of birds walking freely around his garden. "Shouldn't you be inside mingling with the guests?" Harry made a vague gesture towards the door, now where he knew that the rebels weren't attempting to sneak up on them, he found himself relaxing again. "It's your party after all."
The blond scoffed, stubbornly refusing to as much as glance back at the mansion. "Nah, it's a little too crowded, and no one will notice that I have stepped outside for a few minutes."
"I see." With that, the short conversation ended and Harry resumed watching the sky as stars started coming forth. Since there was no nearby light source to screw it up, the view was just as lovely as it was at Hogwarts.
"Is that an owl?"
)00(
He could safely say that he hated the combination of red and gold.
But he utterly abhorred grey. Vernon had always dressed in grey suits, believing that there was nothing more normal than that colour. Dumbledore's beard had been mostly grey when coming for Harry, and while Harry had been grateful for getting away from the Dursleys, he couldn't say that it had been an improvement.
Was grey even considered a colour? Seeing as neither black nor white were, what did it mean for grey?
Harry had a feeling that he had already had this discussion with himself, and he hadn't come any closer to an answer the last time.
But it wasn't like there was much else for him to do as he stood in the line, waiting for it to be his turn. Considering that squibs technically had no magic, he found it rather ironically that they had to go to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.
Four lines were formed, each leading to a counter with a witch or wizard seated behind. Furthest from the door was the longest line, the goblins there looked everything but happy about the fact that they had to wait to be served by humans of all things. The young witch currently in the seat looked rather close to a nervous breakdown, and with the looks and snarls she was receiving from the goblin in the front of the line, Harry felt for her, though he didn't understand a single word of what was being said. But with Gobbledegook they could threaten your life or compliment your eyes and one wouldn't know the difference until you eventually found yourself with an axe between your eyes.
Between the goblins and the line Harry was located in, stood a centaur. Harry stared in fascination, wondering exactly how the centaur had gotten in here. He couldn't imagine that the Muggles would ignore the fact that a half horse half man walked down the streets to get to the Ministry, not to speak of how he would even have gotten into the phone box. And yet he was hesitate to believe that the centaur would have used the Floo. There would be the same problem as with the telephone box. As he was closer to the centaur than the goblins, Harry was able to listen in on the talk, though he didn't get much out of it, other than the fact that Mars had been bright tonight. By the look of the face of the wizard behind the counter, this wasn't the first time he had had to listen to this kind of talk.
To his right, which was also the line closest to the door were spirits of different kinds lined up. Seeing none he recognised from Hogwarts, Harry turned back to the line he was waiting in.
There were few people standing here, mostly because most squibs tended to prefer the Muggle life where they could blend in with other people and live a life of normalcy. There were others behind him, but they wisely kept their distance, encouraged by the three Lestranges whom were escorting him today.
Normally, Harry would have complained about the unnecessarily of having the whole trio following him around, especially because they tended to draw more attention than Harry liked.
But being inside the Ministry, Harry was only happy to have someone with him who would be guarding his back no matter what happened. It also calmed him that he was several levels above the Department of Mysteries and thus nowhere near the Death Veil.
Despite being meant to guard him, Bellatrix hadn't made it further than to the line of waiting spirits. As of now she was entertaining herself with trying to find out if there was something that couldn't pass through the floating dead, she hadn't been successful so far. The ghosts were completely ignoring her deeds so far, and no one else dared to step in in fear of attaching the witch's attention to them instead.
Rodolphus was standing within arm's reach of her, ready to step in in case she decided to go too far.
That left Rabastan to stand behind Harry, his mere presence was enough to keep people away from them, or perhaps it had something to do with Diablo. The snake had insisted on coming along, but had dozed off soon after their arrival to the Ministry, his rectangular head resting on Harry's left shoulder while the rest of the snake's body was hidden under the grey robes Harry had to wear because of his visit to the Ministry.
Irritably his fingers clenched around the missive in his hand, the reason to why he had come here in the first place. It didn't help that Voldemort had merely laughed upon reading the blasted letter and then refused to chancel this convening. It were at times like that when Harry considered telling him about his vision of the Veil.
And yet, he hadn't spoken a word about it, though Harry himself was unsure of why. Perhaps, it was because he didn't want to break up the peace that had fallen after their return. There was always the chance that a vision wouldn't happen in the real world, or that telling someone would be the catalyst.
Sometimes, Harry really hated the uncertainty that came with his visions.
"Next." The snapping voice brought Harry out of his inattention as the man in front of him, finally, moved to the side so Harry could come to the counter. Stepping forward, Harry felt a shiver run down his spine, quite sure that no cat should be able to glare at anyone the way it did. It made him want to pay attention like some misbehaving child. It had to be because of those strange markings around its eyes. There were almost like glasses, and Harry could easily imagine it lecturing students in class.
Shaking his head faintly to get rid of the imagination, Harry stepped up to the counter.
The witch seated on the other side was apparently rather fond of the colour pink, if her robes and the little hat that sat askew on top of her head was anything to go by. The smile she sent him made Harry think of someone seeing something disgusting and not quite able to hide their opinion. "And what can I help you with?" She asked far more politely than Harry had expected her to, but the flickering glances she sent over his shoulder, told Harry that it wasn't for his favour that she had adopted that tone. With his black robes, Rabastan stood out against the others' grey ones, and the fact that he did nothing to hide his wand only added to that.
Realising that he was taking too long to answer with his musings, Harry cleared his throat, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. "I received a missive the other day; apparently there might be a problem with my heritage." Why the ministry thought they could put their long noses into Gringott's business, Harry didn't understand. The goblins never took it well when others tried to handle cases that belonged to them. But Voldemort's lack of worry kept Harry calm. If this was something to be considered serious, Voldemort would have cleaned the misunderstanding up the moment Harry showed him the letter.
It was most likely that Voldemort just saw it as a way to keep Harry occupied for the day while the Dark Lord was in meeting with the French Minister of Magic. Once Harry got back to Hogwarts, he fully planned on entailing Peeves' help to get some revenge. Perhaps, they should figure out how to change all of Voldemort's robes in bunny suits. The idea seemed better the more Harry allowed himself to think about it.
"Name?"
"Harry James Potter." As much as he disliked his middle name, seeing as it was another connection to his so-called father, Harry knew from experience that it was easier to give up his full name right away.
The witch hummed as she shifted through a stack of papers on her desk. Knowing that people here had the lowest, if any, respect for his kind, Harry kept his tongue. It really annoyed him how witches and wizards looked down on squibs, as if it was their fault that they were born without magic. But not even Voldemort would be able to change such an age old grudge. At least their rights were better than they had been just two hundred years previous.
"Hem, hem." This time, it was the pink witch's, a second look proved that her name was Dolores Umbridge, whom was clearing her throat. "You recently gained access to the Potter vaults, correct?" At Harry's sharp nod she continued, looking decidedly more gleeful than she had before. "There seems to have been a slip up. According to paragraph seven hundred and twenty two, no squib can inherit from a witch or wizard as long as the deceased has a living, magical relative. It's most unfortunate, but I am afraid that we will have to confiscate the vaults and their contest. Anything you have withdrawn must be placed back. If something has been broken or sold, you'll have to replace it. You have three days to accomplish this task. If you refuse to cooperate, Aurors will escort you to a holding cell where you can wait for your trial. I am obligated to inform you that stealing from a pureblood will lead to six months or longer in Azkaban, depending on the seriousness of your crime."
At the end of her small speech, Harry was opening and closing his mouth without any sounds passing over his lips. If not because he had read those laws a few years back, he would have thought she was kidding him. His own grandfather had made him the heir and yet she calmly sat there, telling him that he had to give it all up. Not that Harry cared that much about the money and other things in the vault, though the cloak was useful, but it allowed him an independence he liked.
His hand went to his bracelet. Voldemort had made it from a jewellery from the vault, did it mean that he would have to deliver it back? Not only was Harry against that thought, but he very much doubted that Voldemort would allow that.
Why was it again, that Voldemort had decided not to come along, or at least do something? He had to know that this would happen, after all, the Ministry was controlled by the Dark Lord.
A sudden warmth appeared against his back as black hair entered his vision as Bellatrix draped herself over the shoulder opposite of where Diablo was resting. "Oya, oya, what's going on here?" Bellatrix directed the question to the witch behind the counter, leaving Harry to wonder how she had gotten over here so fast that he hadn't even sensed her moving.
Either is was something Bellatrix just could do, or the wards hindered Apparation inside the Ministry building had been taken down.
Umbridge's smile grew sweet enough to give one cavities just by looking too long at her. It made Harry's hackles raise. Clearly, she intended to use this to her own advantage somehow. "Lady Lestrange, I was merely informing this squib that he has overstepped his rights by gaining access to some vaults through the goblins. The Ministry are currently looking into it, but it will probably please the Lady to hear that she is one of the candidates to inherit the vaults' contents because of your pure Black blood."
Harry got the unpleasant picture of a fat dog wagging its tail as it waited for a treat from its master for a task it believed well completed.
Bellatrix tisked, letting go of Harry and stepped up in front of him. Suddenly her playful demeanour was gone, leaving a regal and lethal witch in her place. "I believe that you are the one overstepping your rights, half-blood."The icy tone she spoke with reminded Harry of the evening of the New Year's Party where she had caught him and Draco, fully intending to Crucio him because she was feeling bored. "I went here because the Dark Lord found a mistake in your work." Harry raised an eyebrow, wondering where she was going with this. As far as he was aware, the trio had only come along to ensure that he did not get caught up in trouble.
Umbridge's face had gotten a rather strange shade of grey, most likely due to the thought of having Voldemort catch onto a mistake that she was supposed to have made before she could hide it in a pile of paper work that no one intended to ever look into. "Are you sure? I mean, perhaps you're mistaking-" She was cut off before she could dig her grave deeper.
"Are you accusing the Dark Lord of making things up?"
"No, no, of course not, who would be stupid enough to question something the Dark Lord has said?" Umbridge said with a small, nervous laughter, her previous act of superiority gone. "Perhaps, if you told me what the mistake is, I can right the wrong?" She swept small peals of sweat away with a pink, frilly handkerchief.
Tutting, Bellatrix drew back until she was slightly behind Harry, her hand clamping down on his shoulder with nearly enough force to make his knees buckle. Though he stayed upright, Harry sent her an annoyed glance, not amused by her sudden change of moods. "My dear nephew here, Lord Potter, is not a squib; the Dark Lord would like you to ensure that something is done about the mistake."
Umbridge wasn't the only one confused by Bellatrix's words, though Harry felt that he did a vaguely better job at hiding his surprise. "Ehm, Bellatrix, I think that you are wrong." He said, while wondering how Voldemort had come to that conclusion. There was no reason to believe that he was anything but a squib, the proofs were clear as the day. If Harry ever got the chance to pick up a wand, he very much doubted that it would as much as emit a few sparks. Seriously, why was she saying that kind of things. There was no reason to say something like that.
..unless Severus had shared something about what had happened that one time he had come to the Ministry to get his status as squib proved. It wouldn't surprise him if that proved to be the case.
The witch merely hit him on top of his head with her hand, not even looking at him as she continued glowering at Umbridge. "The Dark Lord has said that there was a mistake, and so there is one. Now hurry up and do that test, or whatever else there needs to be done so you none believers can see that the Dark Lord is never wrong." Harry bit back the urge to tell her that Voldemort was a human, and thus very much able to make a mistake. If she wanted to hero worship Voldemort, then it was her decision to make.
Rather hastily Umbridge stood, placed a small sign on the counter reading 'closed'. "If you'll follow this way, Lord Potter." She said, visibly forcing herself to adopt a more polite tone than she normally would have when handling his kind. But with the three Lestranges around him, there was not much of a choice she had.
When the three Lestranges made to follow him, Harry shook his head with a half smile. "Sorry, but if this is the same as the last time, then I doubt that you'll be allowed inside with me."
"He will have to be in the chamber alone. If someone with magic is in there at the time of the ritual, the reading will be considered useless and we will have to do it all over again." Umbridge explained as she lead Harry to a rather unseemingly door in the back of the room, but not before he had handed the still slumbering Diablo over to a disgruntled Bellatrix. At least those two could keep each other company until he was done, and stop Bellatrix from destroying things because she was bored.
Harry stepped through the door, remembering the whole thing from five years ago, and thus he did not wait for instructions.
The room was empty of other people, not that Harry was surprised about that part. As Umbridge had already mentioned, other people, especially those with magic, would only interfere with what was going to happen.
Sighing silently, Harry walked towards the middle of the room where a small table with a silver knife was located. He was careful not to mess up any of the chalk drawings on the floor. Though he had no idea of what they were for, he wasn't interested in seeing what would happen if he messed any of them up.
Harry picked up the knife, bared his arm and slit his wrist. It was a swallow cut, but the blood floated fast and freely as he stuck his arm out from his body, watching the red drops fall.
The first drop hit the floor and sped to somewhere behind him, Harry resisted the urge to twist around to look where it was heading, knowing that he wasn't allowed to move just yet.
The next four headed for icons within Harry's sight. Not having studied runes, he was unsure of what this meant, but he still watched on.
When more drops hit the floor and yet did not move, Harry found a handkerchief and wrapped it around his hand, stopping the bleeding. It was rather anticlimactic in Harry's opinion. For such an old ritual, he would have expected some flashing, or something a little more existing than blood that moved around on its own accord.
Though, the first time he had gotten to witness this, Harry had freaked out and nearly forgotten that he wasn't supposed to move around before the ritual's magic had stopped. But now where his blood was no longer moving around across the floor Harry felt the tension seep out of him.
He waited two and then an additional other five minutes, but nothing happened, and Harry started to fidget with growing unease, but he did not move from where he stood. The last time the Ministry worker had entered when his blood had stopped rolling across the floor. Surely, there had been no changes in the years in between. He knew the mentality of those people, they would not change something they viewed as working perfectly. So, why wasn't anyone coming?
His feet were moving before he had fully formed the question, and Harry headed straight for the door. He could redo this at another time, but right now Harry didn't need his visions that something was going on.
Harry never got to reach the door, stopping as strange creaking sound reached his ears. Looking around, he frowned, seeing nothing unnatural before he looked down on the floor. Cracks had formed from the wall where the door was, moving fast and reaching him without Harry noticing it before the cracks were right beneath his feet.
He screamed in fright as the ground beneath his feet collapsed in.
As he fell, Harry knew that he had to do something, chances were that if he landed like this, he wouldn't be walking away undamaged.
Twisting around mid-air so he had his legs beneath him, Harry bend them and relaxed his joints. No matter what, this was going to be painful, but he could at least attempt to minimize the damage.
He landed crouched on the floor, the impact making his body shudder and teeth ache, before staggering and falling onto his arse. Wide eyed Harry stared at the spot he had been just before, a big part of the ceiling now lodged deeply into the floor. A few inches closer had he would have been caught underneath it.
Shaking, the seer staggered to his feet, reaching out to stabilize himself against the piece of rock while trying not to hyperventilate. This had been a whole lot closer than he liked to admit.
Looking up, Harry realised just how lucky he had been. Nothing more was falling down in the moment, but most of the ceiling was gone.
Next: Fighting, people will die and the Veil.
So, an important question I'm having some great trouble with who shall die and how? I mean of the good guys, also known as the Dark side? I am in doubt, so come with suggestions, they might be followed.
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Until next time, and remember to help me with whom should die... hmm, perhaps Severus?