Disclaimer I do not own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to JK Rowling. Also this story is inspired by 'A Shattered Prophecy' by Project Dark Overlord.
Chapter Fifty Four
Slowly, without taking his eyes off the Death Eaters, Harry stood up. He recognised all three; Nott, Kerr and Reid – members of Voldemort's inner circle.
Harry locked eyes with Nott. Despite the pain racing up and down his weakened body, Harry straightened up and smirked. "Still got a habit of hexing others when they're off guard, Nott?" he asked, his voice a little breathless. "I thought you had learnt your lesson."
Nott's expression tightened at the reminder of his punishment for attacking a seven year old Harry. It was the start of his lifelong hatred for the Dark Prince.
"Don't you worry about me," Nott said, stepping forward, his wand aimed at Harry's head. "You should be concerned for yourself, Prince." He tutted as he gave Harry a long, head-to-toe scan. "You don't look too good. Pale skin, dark circles under your eyes, shivering – is that because you're cold or because you're facing my wand?"
Harry snorted. "You wish," he scoffed.
Nott chuckled and the two Death Eaters behind him shared an amused look.
"How did you find me?" Harry asked. He had to keep them talking while his frazzled and panic-stricken mind came up with an escape plan. "It took you long enough, mind you," he added.
"It wasn't all that difficult," Nott bragged. "All we had to do was follow that pathetic brother of yours."
Harry's blood ran cold at the mention of Damien. The Death Eaters had been watching him? Had they hurt him? Where was Damien right now?
"We followed him around, noting he came to this location daily for almost a week now, spending hour after hour here. It wasn't difficult to deduce why." Nott smirked. "It could only be to visit his brother, pathetically hiding in the muggle world."
Harry counted to five in his head. He had to keep it together. Once he survived this encounter with these Death Eaters he could find Damien and kill him! He had led the Death Eaters straight to Harry's door step. How could Damien not have noticed he was being followed?
Harry pushed his anger at his brother aside, focusing on how to get himself out of this problem first. He was still too weak to use his wandless magic. The window to Harry's right was far too small for him to break through. The only escape he had, was the door behind the three Death Eaters. Harry was fighting just to stay on his feet; there was no way he could fight past three grown men, even if he somehow managed to disarm them. Harry glanced to the bedside table, where his own wand was sitting, out of reach.
"Come now, Harry, you don't think you can fight us when you're like this, do you?" Kerr asked with a jeering grin. "Confidence is one thing, but that would be just stupidity."
Harry gave him a cold smirk. "You would know all about that, wouldn't you?"
"Let's go," Reid said, stepping past the other two, his wand pointed at Harry's head, curse at his lips.
Harry summoned what little strength he had in his still healing body, and ducked out of the way of Reid's 'Stupefy'. He kicked the Death Eater in the knee and with a howl, Reid went down. Harry wrenched the wand out of his hand, and pointed it at the two still-standing Death Eaters.
Harry was useless with a wand, until his magic restored itself to its usual level, but the Death Eaters didn't know that. As far as they could tell, Harry was only physically ill. They didn't know about the magical transfer Harry had done to save his dad's life. At least Harry hoped they didn't. But as it was these days, luck wasn't on Harry's side. Nott chuckled as Harry pointed the wand at him.
"We know you've wasted all your magic on Potter," he said. "You can't fight us with magic, not until your core replenishes itself." He leered at Harry. "Come quietly and we won't hurt you – much," he added with a twisted smile.
Harry was desperately pulling at the minute levels of magic that had built up in his stores over the last seven days. If Harry gathered it all up now, he would have one shot at escaping, but that would be it – one shot.
He took a deep breath and shifted his aim from Nott to the ground.
"Momentum Expur!"
The floor shook, and the Death Eaters, taken by surprise, lost their footing. It was all the opportunity Harry needed. He darted across the room, opened the door and ran. Spells zoomed past him as he crossed the hallway and sped down the stairs, but he didn't look back. He bolted to the front door and threw it open, coming out into the bright sunlight of the day.
Harry looked around him in panic. Where should he go? He had to get as far away from muggles as possible. The Death Eaters didn't need much of a reason to kill and maim innocent people. Harry darted forward, straight into oncoming traffic. He narrowly missed getting hit by a car as he raced to the other side of the road. Harry didn't look back to see if the Death Eaters had followed him out. He could tell just by the sound of pounding feet behind him, that he was being chased.
Harry's breath hitched in his chest as he struggled to keep going; pushing his weakened body to maintain his speed and escape Voldemort's men. He couldn't let himself get captured; he wouldn't become Voldemort's mindless puppet again.
Harry ducked into a narrow side street and stumbled, his legs folding under him. His body couldn't take anymore exertion. Harry forced himself up and kept going, willing his muscles not to fail him now. Holding the wall for support, Harry dragged himself to the end of the street, watering green eyes desperately searching for a place to hide.
He spotted the gates to a park. It was quiet, with plenty of trees. It was a good place to lose the Death Eaters. Harry forced himself across the street and past the gates, ducking into the first shadowed area he could find within a cluster of trees. He sunk to the ground, trying to catch his breath. Reaching up with a trembling hand, he wiped the sweat clinging to his face and closed his eyes. All Harry could hear was his own frantic heartbeat. The day was still early, so no one was in the park, as most muggles were either at work, and children were at school. If the Death Eaters followed him in here, there was no one who could get caught in the crossfire.
Harry lay for a few moments, easing his panic away. He couldn't hear anyone; no running footsteps, to curses, not even a whisper around him. Harry let out a shaky breath. He had escaped the Death Eaters. He was okay. Well not okay – he could feel the ache in his bones growing, and heat was radiating from his skin. It was as if his adrenaline had kick started his fever again.
Harry tensed his muscles and pushed himself back onto his feet. He had to find a better place to lie low. As soon as Harry stood up, something grabbed him from behind. An arm was thrown around his neck, and his hand, which was still clutching Reid's wand, was yanked behind him and twisted until his grip loosened and the wand was snatched from him.
"Son-of-a-bitch!" Nott growled in Harry's ear. "Thought you could run from us?"
A brutal kick to the back of his legs had Harry falling face first onto the ground. A knee between his shoulder blades kept Harry pinned in place, as both his hands were quickly secured behind his back, bound by conjured rope.
"You're going back to the Dark Lord," Nott said, as he stood up, Kerr and Reid on either sides of him, staring down at Harry with cruel smirks. "And trust me, you're going to pay for leaving his side."
Without warning, Nott kicked Harry, hard in the ribs. Harry didn't have the breath to cry out. His whole being was already trembling under the grips of his fever, making every inch of him tender and sensitive. Nott grinned, seeing Harry's pain and kicked him again, and again, his heavy boots leaving bruises on Harry's torso. His attack went on for several minutes. It was only when Nott delivered a kick to Harry's face with enough force to snap his head back, did the other Death Eaters intervene.
"Enough," Kerr said, holding Nott back. "Let's take him back, before we lose him again."
Nott shrugged himself out of Kerr's grip. "Relax, he's not going anywhere," he said, watching with a satisfied smirk as Harry recovered, blood leaking out of his mouth. "You have no idea, how badly I've wanted to do this," he said, speaking to both Harry and his fellow Death Eaters. "I never thought I'd get the chance, but now that it's here, I'm taking its full benefit."
He pointed his wand at Harry. Harry braced himself for the Cruciatus curse, but instead, he felt a thick coil of rope slither around his neck, settling heavily against his throat. Harry looked at Nott with panicked disbelief.
"No–!" was all Harry could choke out, before Nott flicked his wand and Harry was jerked up and into the air by the rope around his neck.
Harry's feet left the ground, and at once, his breathing cut off. Harry was thrashing, fighting, kicking out, trying to find solid ground so he could take the pressure off his throat and breathe again. But Nott only lifted him higher into the air, making sure he didn't find any relief. Harry tried wrenching his hands free but the rope remained firm, binding his wrists together behind his back.
Nott was laughing. Kerr and Reid shared amused looks, as they stood back and watched Harry suffocate by the noose around his neck.
"You might want to get in on this," Nott remarked to the other men. "Once we hand him back to Master and he modifies his memories, he'll go back to being untouchable."
Kerr and Reid pulled out their wands, looking downright gleeful at the chance to curse the Dark Prince.
Harry didn't have the clarity of mind to feel afraid. He was consumed with the need to breathe. His air supply was completely cut off. His chest felt like it was about to explode. Harry's vision began to grey around the edges and he knew he was going to pass out. His eyes rolled to the back of his head.
The rope gave way and Harry collapsed to the ground in one sudden move, landing on his front. The pressure had lifted, but Harry could still feel the rope around his neck. It sat heavily against his throat, tight and restrictive, but not enough to completely choke him. Harry greedily gulped in as much air as he could, filling his starved lungs.
Harry's vision was still blurred, his blood pounding in his ears, but he made out the faint thump of bodies hitting the floor. Lifting his head weakly, Harry found it was the dark-robed Death Eaters on the ground, knocked out cold. Someone had attacked them. Knowing Harry's luck, it was probably Aurors, since they detected magic in a muggle town.
Harry was in no position to fight, still bound and wounded, but he still tensed when a pair of hands grabbed him with great haste and turned him over. The blurry image of Damien's worried face loomed over him. It was all Harry needed to see, before he gave in to the darkness tugging at his consciousness.
xxx
"Harry? Harry!" Damien shouted, but his brother went limp in his arms, his bloodshot eyes rolling to the back of his head. "Harry?" Damien shook him as gently as he could in his panic. "Oh God, Harry!"
Ron hurried over to Damien and pulled the rope around Harry's neck loose, slipping it over his head. He flung it to the side, discarding it quickly, as if he couldn't stand touching the thing. Two fingers came to rest at Harry's bruised neck, checking for a pulse. Damien watched him with horror, holding Harry tight in his arms.
"He's alive," Ron said with relief, feeling the pulse under his fingers. "He's okay, Damy. He's alive. We got him down in time."
Damien pulled Harry close, hugging him in relief. Hermione and Ginny hurried over to them, looking shaken and nervous. Ginny untied Harry's hands, as Hermione stood staring at the Death Eaters they had incapacitated.
"What do we do now?" she asked the other three. "Do we just – leave them here?"
"What other choice do we have?" Ron asked. "If we contact the Ministry to come arrest them, we run the risk of revealing our involvement."
"I can't believe we just took down three Death Eaters," Hermione said in shocked awe.
"I would have killed them," Damien said with a growl, "for what they were doing to Harry."
That snapped Hermione out of her daze and she turned, kneeling next to Harry and Damien. She quickly checked over Harry. "No broken bones, I think," she said. "No bleeding, except his split lip, and some bruising around his neck." She rested a hand on his forehead. "His temperature is sky rocketing again." She turned to meet Ron's eyes. "We need to get him out of here."
"The sooner the better," Ginny said. "We noticed four Death Eaters running into the park, others must have too. And if there were other wizards in the area, they'll recognise them as Death Eaters. They might contact the Ministry."
"And even if we're lucky enough to be the only wizards here, Muggles aren't used to seeing grown men with floor-length robes, brandishing sticks in the air," Hermione supplied. "Sooner or later, someone will come to investigate."
"Where should we take him?" Ginny asked. "Back to the hotel?"
"No," Ron said. "He can't stay in the muggle world, not now. Voldemort knows about it, that's why he sent his men here after him."
The four teens shared worried looks.
"So where should we take him then?" Ginny asked.
"We have no other choice," Ron said. "I think – I think we should take him home."
Damien looked down at Harry's unconscious form. He knew his brother would hate him for doing this, but what else could they do?
"Yeah," he said quietly. "I think Ron's right. We should take Harry home. Mum and Dad will know what to do."
"Harry's not going to be happy about this," Ginny said.
"I know," Damien nodded. "But what other option is there?"
"Actually," Ron started. "By home, I didn't mean, Godric's Hollow."
The other three turned their heads to stare at Ron with furrowed brows. "I meant, we should take Harry to the Burrow," Ron explained.
xxx
Ron hadn't sat his test to apparate yet, but Fred and George had taught him how to, nevertheless. It came in handy now, when he brought Harry and Damien with him, just outside his home. Hermione brought Ginny.
Instead of going into the house, Ron carried Harry's unconscious body over to the small garage, tucked away behind the Burrow. They climbed the set of stairs and entered the single room built on top of the garage. Hermione was wringing her hands, as they walked into a very small and dusty room, with two beds as the only furniture.
Ron placed Harry onto one of the beds, and then straightened up to relieve the strain his back had taken to carry Harry here.
"Ron, I'm not sure about this," Hermione started.
"We've already discussed it, Hermione," Ron said. "Harry's options are limited now. He can't live in the muggle world anymore, not until he fully recovers anyway, and the wizarding world is still dangerous for him. The only option Harry has is to either stay here or his home." He turned his head to look at Damien and Ginny. "We all know how Harry'll react if he wakes up in Godric's Hollow."
"I don't think he's going to be too happy about waking up here either," Hermione said. "Harry's still very sick, Ron. He needs a proper place, with heating and running water; not a dusty, run down, freezing shed in your back yard."
"I know this isn't much," Ron said. "And it's far from being the best place for Harry, but we have no other option. I would give him a room in the Burrow if I could, but we can't keep him hidden there." He gestured to his surroundings. "This room is perfect. It used to be where Fred and George 'experimented' their joke products. After they damaged a good part of their bedroom, dad told them they could only do their product testing in this room. No one comes in here anymore. It's the ideal place for Harry to hide out in. And as far as the place being cold and dusty, it's nothing a few cleaning and heating charms can't fix."
"I don't know, Ron," Damien said. "What if Fred and George come back, or someone else just happens to come in here?"
"No one comes in here," Ginny answered. "Besides, Mum and Fleur are practically staying with Bill at the hospital. Even when Bill comes home, the two of them will be busy looking after him. Dad is always at work, Charlie has already left to go back to his work with the Dragons. You all know Percy, busy with work as usual. As for Fred and George, they got that deal finalised with the joke shop. They even got a small apartment over the shop so they're moving out. They were keeping the news for after the wedding, you know, didn't want to steal Fleur's thunder." A sad smile flit across her face. "They told me yesterday, since they have to take over the shop tomorrow. That leaves only us. The room is safe, no one will accidentally discover him."
"It just, it seems really cruel to keep Harry here," Damien said.
"It's not cruel," Ron said. "What would be cruel would be to expose him to your parents."
Damien looked stunned, as if he couldn't believe Ron had just said that. "Ron?"
"I'm sorry, but it's the truth," Ron said. "Mr and Mrs Potter won't be able to hide him from Professor Dumbledore, Damy, you know that. And like Harry feared, Professor Dumbledore would most likely keep him a prisoner in his own home." He held Damien's eyes. "Harry doesn't deserve that. No one does. But Harry's already been made a prisoner at the Headquarters, and at Hogwarts. And don't forget Mad-Eye Moody and the rest of the Order's attitude towards Harry. A lot of them just want to hand him over to the Ministry and get him Kissed by Dementors, or thrown in Azkaban for the rest of his life." He shook his head. "Trust me, this is the best and safest thing we can do for Harry."
Damien nodded, not finding it in himself to speak. He hated it, but Ron was right. If they wanted to keep Harry safe, they had to keep him here, away from Dumbledore, away from the Order; away from their own parents.
xxx
Nott, Reid and Kerr stood in utter silence, before Lord Voldemort. No matter how much they tried, they couldn't stop trembling. The fear emitting from them was affecting the rest of the Death Eaters crowded in the chamber. Everyone was watching the Dark Lord with racing hearts and dry mouths.
The three Death Eaters had explained how they managed to find Harry only to lose him again. They had even revealed how it was a group of teenagers that had rescued Harry. They could have lied, told Lord Voldemort a more elaborate tale that didn't make them look like bumbling idiots; if only their master wasn't an accomplished Legimens, with the ability to see through their memories and find the truth.
Voldemort looked at the three men. He aimed his wand at Kerr and Reid, shooting both with the killing curse, one after the other. Their lifeless bodies fell to the ground and Nott immediately threw himself to his knees, and started begging the Dark Lord not to kill him as well.
Voldemort stepped forward.
"Up," he commanded, forcing Nott to clamber back to his feet. "Have you told me everything?" he asked.
"Y-yes my Lord, e-everything." Nott stuttered back.
"Then explain how it's possible for you to be ambushed by a group of mere children?" Voldemort asked.
Nott swallowed hard, as he met the pitiless, ruby red eyes that were full of such anger. He in fact, had not told Voldemort everything. He had left out the parts about torturing Harry. The truth was that Nott had been so engrossed with Harry's suffering that he and the other two Death Eaters hadn't noticed the four teens creeping up behind them.
Nott was breaking into a sweat. What would Lord Voldemort do to him if he found out that he had wasted time hurting Harry, when he could have brought him back to Riddle Manor? He didn't want to find out.
"My Lord–" he started. "I – I don't – It wasn't. I–I–"
Voldemort straightened up to stand to his full height. Nott was an inner circle Death Eater. He was an efficient wizard, with a lot of skill and stealth. So for him to get caught off guard – and by children nonetheless – was as suspicious as it was curious. There was only one other time Nott had been attacked by a child, but that was by Harry. It was understandable. Harry was powerful, even at the age of seven. This matter had to have more to it.
Without giving the shaking man a chance to collect himself, Voldemort entered his mind and memories. It wasn't very hard to find the memory, as it was the same one Nott was trying desperately to hide.
Voldemort's heart leapt in his chest when he saw Harry appear before his eyes, looking ill and worn out. It hit Voldemort that Harry was sick. Why was Harry sick? He never got sick. Then Voldemort realised that Harry was suffering because of the magical transfer he had done to save that pathetic James Potter. Voldemort grasped at the last strand of his patience to keep control of his anger.
However, that strand snapped when he saw Nott attack Harry from behind and throw him viciously to the ground before kicking him, repeatedly. Voldemort watched with a sense of numbed disbelief. His Death Eaters were hurting his son. It seemed so ludicrous, so unreal, that Voldemort could almost believe this was a sick fantasy of Nott's, and not an actual memory.
But unfortunately, this was real, and it had happened only hours ago. Voldemort watched as Nott finally pulled back and conjured a rope that slid around Harry's neck, coiling tight against his throat. Voldemort didn't want to watch anymore. He had a fairly good idea of what was about to happen next, but he couldn't pull himself away from the memory either, too engrossed in horror and disbelief.
Voldemort felt his insides twist with fury as he saw Harry hoisted in the air by the rope around his neck. Harry was thrashing. He couldn't breathe, and Voldemort felt his own breath choke in his chest. Harry was trying; his son was fighting to free himself, to wrench his hands out of the rope that held them behind his back, but his attempts were futile.
Voldemort heard his Death Eaters manic laughing ring in his ears, watched as Nott encouraged the other two Death Eaters to join in and torture Harry, but he couldn't pull his stare away from his son; who was slowly suffocating under the noose. He saw Harry's eyes roll to the back of his head, just seconds before he came tumbling to the ground.
Nott whirled around to see who had cancelled out his levitation charm and saw the four teens standing before him, wands raised and pointing straight at them. A red-haired boy threw a 'Stupefy' spell at a shocked looking Kerr, who instantly hit the ground, while at the same time a bushy brown-haired girl knocked out Reid with a levitated branch. Both Death Eaters hit the ground instantly. Nott threw a curse at the black-haired boy standing in the middle of the group – who Voldemort recognised from the framed pictures on Potter's mantle. He was the Potters' son; the boy Harry protected when Hogwarts Express was attacked.
As Voldemort watched, Nott's spell stopped just before hitting the Potter boy and seemingly disappeared into thin air. The boy didn't even flinch when Nott's spell had come zooming at him, almost as if he knew it couldn't touch him. He threw a 'Stupefy' at Nott which knocked him out cold.
Voldemort pulled himself out of the memory and towered over the petrified form of Nott. Because of this man's stupidity, Harry was not captured and brought back to him. Nott had dared to hurt Harry, when Voldemort had given specific orders to only capture Harry and not to hurt him.
A violent slash of Voldemort's hand, and Nott was flung in the air, smashing into the wall and landing on the cold stone floor. Groaning, Nott looked up, to find Voldemort standing before him, the tip of his wand glowing green. Nott started to cry, begging for his life.
"Please, please my Lord, don't kill me! Please. I will never disappoint you again. I swear! Please, please, my Lord please, have mercy!"
Voldemort replied in his ruthless, cold voice, "You should have thought about my wrath before touching Harry, never mind raising your wand at him. You, above everyone else, should have remembered that I don't tolerate anyone hurting my son."
The jet of green light thundered out of Voldemort's wand and hit Nott in the chest. Nott's eyes darkened as the light left them forever and his body slumped to the floor. Everyone's stare was fixed on the dead Death Eater; killed not for failing to bring Harry back to their Lord, but because he had made the mistake of hurting him.
xxx
Harry awoke with an aching headache. His scar was throbbing; the usual after-pain of an intense attack, which Harry fortunately had been unconscious for. He blearily opened his eyes and looked around himself. He didn't recognise his surroundings. Panic set in and he tried to jump out of bed, but his fatigued body protested to being moved so suddenly and Harry ended up only managing to half sit up in bed. His sharp green eyes swept the surroundings, trying to make sense of it; to work out where he was.
The room was small; smaller than his usual rooms at the travel inns. It was awfully bare-looking. There was a worn out carpet on the floor, and an identical bed to the one he was in, across from him, and that was it. The room was clean enough but smelled; the usual mouldy stale air that rooms developed if they were left closed and unoccupied for a stretch of time.
The shiver that ran through him had nothing do with the cold nipping at his hands and face. Did the Death Eaters bring him here? No, why would they? He would have woken up at Voldemort's feet, not in this miserable room. Weren't the Death Eaters attacked? Harry had been pretty out of it, but he distinctly remembered feeling the ground shudder when their bodies fell, knocked unconscious. He thought he had seen Damien, seconds before passing out.
The only door in the room creaked open, and Damien poked his head in. He met Harry's eyes and the worry on his face evaporated the minute hazel eyes connected to green. A relieved smile brightened Damien's face and he hurried inside.
"Thank Merlin, you're up. I was getting really worried. It's been five hours," Damien said, coming to Harry's bedside. "How you feeling? Are you in any pain? Do you still have a fever?" He reached out to feel Harry's forehead but Harry ducked his head, purposefully moving away from his outstretched hand. Damien stilled, shocked and a little hurt. "Harry?" he asked.
Harry cast another look around the room. "Where am I?" he asked, and his voice came out thick and gravely from his bruised throat, but it wasn't enough to mask the anger in his quiet voice.
"We didn't know where to bring you," Damien started. "We couldn't stay in the muggle world, so – so we brought you here."
"Where is here?" Harry asked.
Damien faltered, before answering. "It's the…the Burrow. Ron's house. Well, technically not his actual house. Its a room above their garage."
Harry climbed out of the bed, facing Damien with nothing but fury.
"I'm where?" he demanded.
Damien's gaze dropped to the ground, unable to hold his brother's angry, bloodshot eyes.
"We didn't know what to do," he mumbled, trying to explain.
"Dammit, Damien!" Harry seethed. "You've done everything possible to get me killed! And since that didn't work, you've brought me at the doorstep of Order members. What the hell were you thinking?"
"I'm sorry," Damien said. "But we didn't know where else to take you. It was either here, or – or Godric's Hollow."
Harry's legs were trembling under him; his body too weak and fatigued to support him. But he still took a step towards Damien with clenched fists. When Damien stepped back, clearly unnerved by him, Harry paused and pulled in a breath, trying to get a hold on his temper.
"Damien," he started quietly. "Tell me the truth. Do you want me to get caught? Do you want me dead?"
Damien looked at him with wide eyes. "No," he shook his head. "Of course not."
"Then why are you doing this to me?"
"Harry, I…I'm sorry, but I didn't know what else to do," Damien said. "We had to hide you, and Death Eaters know about you staying in the muggle world, so–"
"Yeah, take a fucking guess how they found out!" Harry spat. "Go on, Damien. Try and figure it out."
Damien looked so confused, it almost made Harry feel bad for him – almost. Right now, Harry was too angry, and in too much pain, to feel sorry for anyone but himself.
"Harry," Damien started in a small voice, shaking his head. "I don't know."
"They followed you," Harry said, trying, and failing, to keep a hold on his fury. "They followed you for a week without you knowing about it. It's one thing not to notice your friends following you one time, but not to notice that three men, dressed in black robes, are following you around for a whole fucking week! How do you not notice something that?"
Harry's throat almost closed up with pain. He instinctively reached out for the bed, his knees buckling under him. He admitted defeat and sat down, taking a deep breath, his hand going to his bruised, swollen throat and neck.
"I…I don't know what to say," Damien said, sounding horrified and deeply ashamed. "I'm so sorry, Harry. I don't even know how they managed to follow me. I'm so careful, I – Harry, please forgive me. I'm really very, very sorry."
"Sorry doesn't mean anything," Harry said, his voice scratchy. "Do you what would have happened if I was taken back?" he asked, looking up at Damien with furious eyes. "I would've had my memory wiped clean. I would have gone back to doing Voldemort's bidding, oblivious to how he's only using me. And the first thing Voldemort would have me do, is kill all of you."
Damien's horrified, tear-filled eyes had Harry looking away, adding guilt to his already aching chest.
"Forget it, Damien. It's my fault," Harry said. "I thought you would be discreet about me, but I was asking for too much from you."
"Harry, no," Damien knelt beside him, his hand reaching out for him, but Harry batted it away.
"Don't touch me," he said, his broken voice making the words sound more like a sorrowful plea than a threat. "Just...just go. Leave me alone."
"Please, Harry–" Damien tried.
"Go," Harry's voice cracked – he was losing his voice due to his injuries.
Damien didn't want to go, but he also didn't want to cause his brother more pain than he already inadvertently had. He got up and slowly walked away, leaving Harry on his own.
