The Potters
So, I don't own Harry Potter or the Chronicles of Narnia...Damn.
Thanks to those who have followed, favored, and/or reviewed.
Previously...
"You're a Parselmouth, Harry," Harry heard from Lucy. He looked at her and saw that she was pale as a ghost.
"A what?"
"You can talk to snakes," Edmund answered as Lucy opened her mouth to speak. "It's not something common. Slytherin could do it, probably why he chose it as his house's sigil."
Harry frowned. He would have sat down if he weren't already sitting. "Is it bad? Talking to snakes?"
"No," Edmund said, his eyes staring intently at Harry. "It's not, but there's a history behind the bloody language that wizards won't see past."
Harry frowned. He hated that Edmund wasn't telling him directly what he meant, but at the same time, he was. Talking to snakes, it was never a topic he heard about over dinner at Slughorn's house or in any of his classes. It was something, not even his siblings brought up, not even Edmund, who could talk for hours about a frowned upon topic if it pleased him to. Lucy, the intense animal lover of the Potter family, hadn't ever brought it up either, and she loved talking to the animals she brought home, though they never talked back.
"Did Mum or Dad talk to snakes?" Harry asked, looking up at Edmund, who shook his head. "Then how am I able to? Why am I different?"
"I don't know, Harry," Edmund said as he stared at Harry. Harry could tell that he wasn't staring at him but at his scar. Harry didn't know what was worse, being able to talk to snakes or the way his brother was staring at his blasted scar. Could it somehow be responsible? If so, then how?
Harry looked down at his feet and saw the snake slithering past them, heading towards the door.
"Should we stop it from getting out?" Harry asked, nodding towards the escaping snake.
"No!" was the snake's reply.
"No, let Lockhart find it and turn it into a giant serpent," Edmund said. "Hopefully it'll eat him."
"Edmund!"
24 October 1992
A week, Lucy thought to herself as she stared down at her breakfast of toast, eggs, and sausage. A week until the eleventh anniversary of her parent's death. No, that didn't sound right to Lucy. Anniversary. Only happy events could be given such a connection to the word anniversary. Weddings, birthdays, and other days that Lucy couldn't think of at the top of her head. Were there such a thing as a death anniversary? If there were, it made Lucy even sadder thinking about it.
Looking behind her, she watched as Edmund ate his own breakfast. She had to drag him out of the library earlier, reminding him, reluctantly, that today was the trip to Hogsmeade and he had to check in with Professor McGonagall like the rest of the students going out of the castle.
"You have to eat before going because you and I both know you won't stay there long enough to get something yourself," Lucy had said earlier when she and Edmund walked through the corridors near the library. "And you need to bathe and change out of your uniform. Did you sleep in the library?"
"No," Was all Edmund said, dark bruise-like marks under his bloodshot eyes from a lack of sleep.
Sighing, Lucy looked away from Edmund and watched as Harry entered the Great Hall, laughing with Daphne Greengrass at his side. Draco Malfoy, another of Harry's friends, was nowhere in sight. Lucy had caught Hermione Granger, Harry's friend from Gryffindor, outside of the Great Hall when she and Edmund had come in for breakfast. The newly thirteen-year-old brunette had Fred and George's sister with her, Ginny, Lucy remembered.
She looked at the Gryffindor table and saw Hermione, with Ginny, as the two girls ate their breakfast. She saw Ginny make a face at the redheaded boy sitting across from her, her brother Ron if Lucy remembered correctly. She knew he was in Harry's year and had been rather distant when she and Edmund met him on the train to Hogwarts last year. Though, at first, he had been rather keen on befriending Harry. She wondered now if Ron had been displeased she mentioned Fred and George.
"Time to get out of that head of yours, Luce," Lucy heard. Looking up, she saw Cedric standing before her, his bright grey eyes gleaming in amusement.
"Morning Ced," Lucy said as the older boy took a seat next to her. She watched as he grabbed a nearby plate and started to pile it up with food. "Are you going to Hogsmeade today?"
"Are you?" Cedric asked instead of answering her.
Lucy shook her head, knowing that both Edmund and Susan would be going today. She always felt more reassured if one of them were closer to Harry. It was something she, Peter, Susan, and Edmund had secretly agreed on before Harry began his first year at Hogwarts. Normally, it was Edmund who stayed back, but this time Lucy would.
"Then I'm not either," Cedric told Lucy, smiling as he took a bite of his bacon. He looked off to the side and snorted. "Edmund's got, followers."
"What?" Lucy asked before looking in the direction Cedric was staring at and saw Edmund walking out of the Great Hall, with two Ravenclaw girls behind him, keeping their distance but weren't subtle about it. She recognized the girls, Cho Chang and Marietta Edgecombe, they were in a few of her classes. Cho was nice enough to Lucy that she might have considered her a friend, if not for the looks she received from Marietta at times.
"Merlin, why are they following him?" she questioned, watching as her brother disappeared into the corridors, with Cho and Marietta following.
"Beats me," Cedric answered before he smirked. "Want to follow after them and see why?"
"Why not?" Lucy figured, seeing as she had nothing better to do until after Edmund returned from Hogsmeade with the snake Caspian got him.
As she got up from Hufflepuff's table, she glanced back at Harry and grinned when he saw her and waved. She waved back before leaving the Great Hall with Cedric.
When Caspian saw her, Susan knew it was too late to turn around and leave the Hog's Head.
"Sue!" Caspian said, grinning as he motioned for her to come closer. He was sitting next to the grimy window that offered the most light in the entire establishment.
Susan forced a grin on her face, forcing the vomit in her throat down as she walked in her boyfriend's direction. She maneuvered her way throughout the Hog's Head, passing each wooden table with ease but nearly tripping on the creaky floorboard near the bar. Abe the bartender merely glanced her way before going back to cleaning his goblets, with little success in Susan's opinion. Even though she didn't plan on ordering anything from the Hog's Head, she still brought a goblet along in case she needed something to wash down anything that decided to come up without her permission. That had been happening quite recently, and it irritated Susan every time and there was so much Madame Pomfrey with able to give her to help with the symptoms of pregnancy.
Susan took a seat across from Caspian and said nothing when he leaned across the table and kissed her cheek. She genuinely smiled at this, which Caspian clearly noticed and his grin grew bigger.
"You look brilliant," He said, though Susan didn't believe him. She had spent the morning worrying and throwing up and wanting for the day to be done with, and at that time it had only been seven in the morning.
Susan smiled but waved her boyfriend off. "You're being nice. No one looks brilliant in their school cloak." She had forgotten to grab her favorite jumper out of her trunk, so she just shrugged on her school cloak on top of her shirt and jeans before leaving her dormitory that morning.
"Bullocks," Caspian protested, smirking. "You want anything? I'm buying." He held up his own goblet, ones Susan recognized from the cupboards in his kitchen.
"I'm fine," Susan said, though she was in that moment tempted to order a Butterbeer before thinking against it, she didn't know if it would upset her stomach or not.
Caspian nodded, his smile faded a little and he looked at her in what Susan could only describe as concern. "Are you alright?" he asked.
Biting her lip, Susan nodded before shaking her head. Sighing, she said, "I have to tell you something. It's really important."
Frowning, Caspian nodded as his face suddenly became more serious looking. "Alright," He said, his voice sounding guarded and unsure.
Letting a shaky breath out past her lips, Susan nodded and looked right into Caspian's dark eyes, wondering if she would see those same eyes in her child in the months to come. The realization that this was real and happening to her, tears began to well in Susan's eyes but they didn't fall. Yet, Susan knew.
"Caspian," Susan said as her voice became heavy and the first teardrop fell down her freckled face. "I'm pregnant."
Peter would rather die than be sentenced to Azkaban prison. He shouldn't be here, it was against the Ministry's rules to visit the inmates unless the visitors were Ministry officials. Even then, they didn't come often because of the very nature of the prisoners locked away and the guards that greedily ate away at what sanity the incarcerated had left.
Dementors. Peter felt ill the moment he was within the vicinity of one. His skin prickled as shards of invisible ice stabbed him relentlessly. He rubbed at his arms, his fingers felt numb and his palms dryer than the roast his father once attempted to cook not long after their family went into hiding. He nearly burned down the kitchen, but he, his mother, and siblings still ate the end result of his father's meal. His father had been appreciative of the lies his family told him when asked if the roast was edible.
"Are you alright, Potter?" the human guard, who escorted Peter from the entrance hall to the dingy and barely used visitors room, questioned.
Peter waved the man off as he took a seat in the splintery, wooden chair that buckled as his body involuntarily shivered.
"F-fine," Peter said through chattering teeth. "I t-take it d-demen-tors are ne-earby?"
The guard, a blurry man with distinctive scarring on his bearded face, nodded. "There're bringin' the prisoner you requested to see. I'm surprised you can feel their effects already, you must have some interestin' stories to tell, eh?"
"S-something like that."
It was then that Peter's eyes rolled back into his head and a rush of wind flooded into his ears as a woman's voice stole what little hearing Peter could hold on to.
"-an knows this, I had blood as the law demands. All of Nar-"
Peter jumped when he was slapped in the face by the guard, who now stood over him.
"-lin, Potter," The guard said as he took a step back from Peter, but placed a calloused hand on his shoulder. "First time with the dementors, eh?"
Peter, with his voice trapped in the back of his throat, could only nod as he was helped from his spot on the ground. He didn't ponder on why he was on the ground, figuring he must have fallen during...whatever it was he just experienced.
"Nasty buggers, dementors are," The guard said nonchalantly. "Be glad you don't work 'ere, Potter. I doubt you'd ever get used to them."
"A-and you have?" Peter questioned, his voice sounding like shards of glass had been embedded into his throat.
The guard shrugged. "No choice, unless the Ministry cuts the dementors out. Doubt that'll ever happen, one can only hope."
Peter nodded as his eyes shifted around the room. Only he and the guard were here.
"Where's he?" Peter demanded, frowning at the guard, who barely blinked at Peter's tone.
"Outside with two of the wizard guards," The guard admitted, frowning. "You still want to do this?" Peter had to bite his tongue at the guard's incredulous tone and nodded stiffly.
"I don't want to come back here again," Peter gritted out.
The guard frowned, but didn't argue with Peter and turned to the door. Peter watched as the guard pulled out his wand and, after a few moments of silent spells connecting to the iron door, he stepped through and disappeared into the gaunt, dimly lit corridor.
Peter wondered to himself if this was a good idea as he looked around the room with poorly sealed bricks and cracked concrete flooring. He had to get special permission to even see the bloody bastard he was planning on interviewing; no non-Ministry-orientated wizards were allowed to enter Azkaban. Peter, being only a trainee-Auror, was a grey spot between the Ministry workers and the rest of the wizarding world. He imagined that he only got approval was because he was Harry Potter's brother and because the prisoner he was going to interview was-
"Peter?" The 18-year-old wizard heard. His hazel eyes snapped towards the door of the visiting room, where a hollow husk of a man Peter once remembered as one of his uncles stood.
He was shabby-looking. Nothing like he what he used to be. His prison uniform hung loosely around his frame, his face skeletal like. His grey eyes could be scooped out easily with a wooden spoon if one were to perform the disturbing act, Peter wondered if the traitor would even feel it happening. His lips were as crackled as the ground he stood on, his feet bare with puss-oozing blisters at the soles. The chains wrapped around his wrists and waist clattered with every breath the bastard took.
Peter didn't know if he wanted to run past the man or kill him right on the spot. Both were so tempting, but that would be a coward way out. Peter was no coward, not unlike the man who stood before him now.
His hazel eyes hardened as the guards dragged his godfather to the table and attached his chains to his chair and the table that separated the two wizards who sat at it.
Gaunt grey eyes stared at Peter, full of an emotion Peter couldn't place. Wide, red filled with the white part of the eye, bloodshot.
"Uncle Padfoot," Peter said, his voice still full of glass shards but quickly the pieces began to crumble down his throat as he glared at Sirius Black, the man who betrayed his family.
So, what do you think?
I know there might be some grammar mistakes and might seem a bit rushed, so I apologize.
Please, review, favor, and/or follow. That would be great.
Until next time...
Review(s):
Malleus: Thanks for the review and for the confidence boost.
