---
The guy who put his hands on you
Has got nothing to do with me
And the bruises that you feel will heal
And I hope you'll come around
We're missing you
You used to speak so easy
Now you're afraid to talk to me
It's like walking with the wounded
Carrying that weight way too far
The concrete pulled you down so hard
Out there with the wounded
Missing you
|Wounded-Third Eye Blind|
---
Part 17: Corrections
Draco's Chambers...
Draco paced the persian silk carpets and glanced at his emerald studded platinum watch. Ten minutes had passed- and he was beginning to get worried. He did not love Parthenope, far from it, but she was his wife and he had a certain sense of duty toward her. Besides, she was carrying his child. Loath as he was to admit it, they had made a deal- and the Malfoy in him forced him to honour it.
People assumed that the Malfoy family had no honour. This was untrue- any aristocratic family had honour...just a different kind. The Malfoys believed in duty and they had their own brand of honour.
With a disgusted sigh, he threw on his grey-silver cloak and strode into the rain. "Impervius." He muttered, making the cloak waterproof.
He headed in the general direction that Parry had been going in. It was towards Dumbledore's section. What is that crazy wench doing in here? He wondered, ascending the stairway.
"Draco...wait!" A feminine voice called from behind him. He turned, staff gripped tightly in one hand. "You have to come with me."
"Chaos- why? Have you seen Parthenope?" He looked suspiciously at her worried face and nervous fingers.
She clenched her lips, her face devoid of any other emotion. "Please- just come..." She turned and fled down the hallway, the sound of her heavy boots echoing in the hallway. Draco walked in to the hospital area just in time to see Chaos draw a blanket over Hermione's body. Draco stopped and took a step back. He glanced quizzically at Chaos.
"Draco, I need you to listen very carefully and be very calm." She said, slowly, indicating a low stool for him to sit upon. "Parthenope has done something very selfless...especially for a mother. Draco, she's- she's given her baby to Hermione." A muscle in Draco's temple twitched and his fingers clenched the chair. "She told me that she wanted her child to know that both it's parents loved it and each other. Draco- Parthenope didn't want her child to know that it's not yours and Hermiones'."
Draco nodded dumbly, his mind anaesthetised with shock. "Does she- know?" Chaos looked at the floor and, almost imperceptibly, shook her head. "Magic Undone, Healer- what in Wizardry is she going to say when she wakes up? How far along was Parry?"
"Three months."
"But Hermione- the woman still hates me."
"But without cause. Your wife told me the whole story."
"My wife- where is the little necromancer anyway?" Chaos fixed him with her eye.
"It really hurt her when you said you wouldn't love your own child because of her. She never thought you hated her...she told me she's moving on. But...I can't feel her life-force any more..."
"Parthenope's dead?" His voice was strangled.
Chaos regarded him impassively, almost shrewdly. She glanced at Hermione. "Yes. But she's not."
---
||
Outside Ron's room...
Ron paced the room, his thoughts in disarray. Padma had returned his wedding ring the previous night, her eyes dim and ashamed. The night was cold, but his vampire eyes saw through the darkness. Ron reached into his pocket and lit a joint of weed.
Odd, how Wizardry shared it's vices with Muggles. Alcohol, marijuana, cocaine, heroin- but mostly ecstasy, were sold and used daily in the Wizarding World. He flicked away the match and inhaled deeply, waiting for the rush.
The world started to spin, colours blurring and melding into one- going out of focus. "Oh no..." Ron groaned, as pain shattered his mind. Just my luck to have a bad trip the first time... He had just bought a few sticks from a shady looking dealer, short and rather nervous. He had given his name as Rilwamot.
He stumbled back inside and managed to crumple in a heap in front of his mirror. "Galatea?" He gasped. Immediately, she appeared.
"Hey Ronnie...are y'okay?" She asked, her voice genuinely concerned. Ron smiled, Galatea had told him how to transport the spell to summon her without Draco's knowing. He had read up a little on the subject and had made a few personality alterations.
"Bad trip-weed." Galatea looked at him curiously.
"Are y'sure, Ronnie- it doesn't look like a bad trip to me...I've seen a coupla those. I dunno 'bout this, Ronnie..." She said, her face twisting with concern. "It looks more like poisoning." Her eyes widened. "Who did you get the weed from?"
"Some guy..."
Her voice rose an octave higher. "What was his name?" She almost shrieked.
"Rilwamot..." Ron choked, his eyes fluttering. "But aren't vampires- immune to poison?"
"Ronnie, go to the Healer. Now."
"I can't...it feels like I'm- Petrified..." Galatea cursed.
"Ron, I needya to do somethin' for me...okay? Just get outcha wand, point at me and say Creare Persona...concentrate."
"Creare Persona." A jet of bluish light hit the mirror, and, instead of reflecting back, was absorbed by it. Galatea was bathed in a sapphire aura. The mirror cracked- Ron stared into the shards. No Galatea.
Someone tapped his shoulder and he turned. A beautiful girl of around seventeen with long black hair and grey-blue eyes snatched his wand from his fingers. "Mobilicorpus." She breathed, and moved Ron's body out of the room.
With long, easy strides she ran towards the Hospital Area- only the Healer could save him now. She burst in the door, Ron close behind, and stopped dead. Chaos and Draco were standing over Hermione's body, Draco had a look of the deepest shock etched on his face.
"Healer-" She cried. Both turned and Draco gagged.
"Oh bloody sodding hell." He moaned. "Has everyone gone fucking mad?"
Chaos already had her hands on Ron's forehead. "He's been poisoned- I think I can manage..."
She let her hands fall to her side and looked at Galatea. "It's lucky you brought him-it so quickly. Vampiric Poisoning is much harder to nullify than Humanoid."
"Weasley's a vampire?" Draco asked, weakly. His skin was looking quite pasty and for once, his suavity and poise were nonexistent. "Galatea?" The girl smiled and walked towards Draco slowly. With tentative motions, she bent closer and brushed his lips with hers. She drew away, a grin on her face. "I've always wanted to do that." She said, eyes shining. "Ronnie was dyin', Draco, I had to do something. So I told him to make me real."
Draco looked dumbstruck. "But, Tea, that's against Wizarding Law. We could be put in Azkab-" He stopped and gave a hoarse, low laugh. Galatea felt her flesh creep, it was so unlike Draco. "Azkaban-why should I be afraid of Azkaban?" He chuckled, bordering on hysteria. "You know, nothing matters anymore. Nothing..." He seemed about to ask another question when Hermione moaned.
She blinked her eyes a few times and slowly propped herself up on an elbow, rubbing her head. Draco enveloped her in his arms, and she relaxed to his familiar embrace.
"Oh, Draco, it's only- Draco!" She yelled, fully awake. "What the bloody hell are you doing?"
With a practiced ease, she took his arm and twisted it backwards, bringing it over his head and into a chokehold. Draco stiffened, he had never been good at hand-to-hand combat. "Mia- you need to listen to me...Mia-"
Her grip relaxed as she saw Ron on the floor. She looked at Chaos, incredulous. "Ron's a-" Her voice lowered to a whisper. "Vampire?"
Draco slipped out of her loose fingers and brought her attention back to him. "Hermione, there are many things I have to tell you. Please just listen- even if you don't stay- just hear me out."
He took a deep breath and began...
---
||
Voldemort's Horseshoe...
"Master, the job is done..." A squeaky voice stuttered. "I gave him the poisoned drug."
"You have served me well...it is good you are grateful for my bounty." Voldemort replied, thoughtfully. "We will kill all of Harry Potter's friends...and soon we will kill him too." Voldemort grimaced. "If only that necromancer had not brought the Mudblood back into the realm of the living." He cursed Parthenope under his breath. "Now go, Wormtail."
Senna Liebermann pushed open the large metal doors, and squeezed inside the stifling little room. Voldemort was already there, bending over a tiny prisoner. He turned at her arrival. "Just making sure our little friends are comfortable." He said.
Senna tried not to look into the blue eyes of the terrified child and the equally terrified man as Voldemort led her out. "Our plant in the Coalition Camp has given us some information." She said, her voice a whisper.
"Excellent, I knew that would pay off."
"The plant says the package will be delivered soon..." Voldemort's fiery eyes narrowed. "The necromancer is having a baby- the Sorceror's baby." Voldemort raised an eyebrow.
"The Sorceror?"
Senna crossed her arms. "That's what they're calling him. Truly, Voldemort- they place him with Salazar Slytherin...some even place him above him! He keeps his troops in strict command- already his evil is well known."
"But he is fighting with Dumbledore!" Voldemort spat.
Senneca appeared not to have heard him. "He is a normal teenager to his friends and family- but to everyone else he is a ruthless Dark Wizard. People already feel afraid to pronounce his name..." A grin tugged at the edges of her mouth. "And he's barely eighteen! Much before you, Vol-"
Voldemort raised his arm and, with stunning force, slapped her cheek. Red blood rushed to her face, outlining the shape of his spindly fingers. "Don't overstep the line, Senna. You are of use...but use is often outlived. It is better for you to stay within my good graces."
Without a word, Senna turned and stalked out of the corridors, slamming the door to her room. "Damn you!" She cried, to the closed door. "Why do you leave me hanging?" The door creaked open.
"Senna!" A girl of seventeenish called. "Are y- what's wrong?"
"Sylvoren- I thought you were on Dumbledore's side..." Senna ran her fingers through her spiked hair and gave her a smile. "I mean- being a Gryffindor and all..."
Sylvoren Trelawney returned the grin. "It makes no difference to me and, well, the Trelawneys have a tradition of siding with Evil." She gave a bitter laugh. "Sybil, my mum- she's working overtime, making prediction-propaganda for the Dark Lord." She edged closer to Senna.
"Why can't he ever admit a human emotion, Syl? Why does he pretend to love me but treat me like a house-elf?" Senna sighed, collapsing into Sylvoren's open arms. Sylvoren looked deep into Senna's piercing blue eyes.
"You'll always have me..." Sylvoren whispered, running her hand down Senna's back. "I'll never hurt you. You know I love you, Senna."
"I love you also, Syl.." Senna said, sincerely. "But- I love him, too..."
"That's just infatuation- it'll pass...and I will wait." Sylvoren sighed.
Senna gave herself over to Sylvoren's ministrations. Remembering their old passion, she found Sylvoren's lips. She shivered- partly from pleasure and partly from fear. Wizards were even more bigoted than Muggles when it came to issues like this.
If Voldemort found out...they'd both be dead for sure.
There was a price for love- any kind.
---
||
Hermione's Chambers...
"Oh no you don't, Draco. Are you trying to tell me that technically- I'm dead?" Hermione's cheeks were a queer strawberry-grape colour. "That I'm alive because of-" She shuddered. "Dark Magic?"
Draco took her hand in his and nodded. Hermione's eyes narrowed, she took out her wand and turned it on him. "Veritas." She used the spell form of Veritaserum. It was an old spell, very hard to perform- Draco guessed she had found it in the book the Fae Queen had gifted to her. "Am I dead?"
"Yes." Draco's lip twitched, he didn't like being controlled.
"Do you love me?"
"Yes."
"Will you ever hurt me again- emotionally?"
His eyes closed. "Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I will have to. It's not my choice." Hermione gave a melancholy chuckle, tears welling up in her eyes.
"Finite Incantatem."
"Uh- Herm...do you remember I told you Parry killed herself-"
"Yes..."
Draco racked his brain, wondering whether to tell her about the baby. He gulped, an idea slowly forming in his mind. "Well, she wanted us to be together..."
Hermione looked away. "So- you've always loved me." She asked, an almost plaintive note in her voice.
"I'll always love you." Draco stood up and offered her his hand. "Do you love me?"
"I do..." She said, taking his hand. He pulled her slightly.
"Come on..." He said, almost running.
"Where are we-"
"You'll see." He cut her off. They descended the steps to Celeste's dungeons. "Celeste!" He called, his voice echoing. "Cel-oh...sorry."
He stopped suddenly. Celeste and a dark haired boy with spiky hair came out of the shadows, holding hands. "Draco..." Her eyes widened. "Hermione?"
"I- we'll explain later. Cel, I need a favour..." He indicated Blaze McAllistair. "Personal."
"Blaze...I'll catch up with you later, okay?" Celeste gave him a quick kiss before he left, glancing, puzzled, behind him. Celeste put her hands on her hips, a gesture which reminded Draco of his mother. "So talk."
"Cel, I don't have much time so I can't explain everything. Do you remember, a long time ago...when we just came here- I asked you to do something for me."
Celeste turned and unlocked a large cupboard, filled with all sorts of grotesque body parts and foul-smelling oils. She drew out a small silver box with tiny green gems glinting on it's engraved surface. Draco took it from her. With slow deliberateness, he dropped to one knee.
"When I married Parthenope..." He began, wincing. "We exchanged rings. I learned that those rings themselves mean nothing. Then I learned that marriage too, means nothing. I just want you to love me. I wanted to give you this...Celeste made this specially for me. This ring holds a part of my life within it." He opened the box.
Two wrought silver snakes curled about a large, shimmering emerald, encircling it- making it a ring. "Hermione, I love you. Will you love me forever?"
"I will." She said. He slid the ring onto her finger, the snakes pulled closer to enclasp her slim digit firmly. "I don't have anything to give you..."
Draco pulled something from out of his pocket. "You've already given me something. I am your Keeper of Life." He slipped a gold ring onto his finger. The craftsmanship was almost identical, except that two lions held the large ruby-stone in place.
She paled. "But- Draco...that means..." She stepped back. "You have to die..."
"I know. That's what I meant about having hurting you again."
"Draco...I can't do it- you know I can't..." He gently placed a finger on her lips.
"Shh...we can think about that later. There is still time."
---
||
Minerva McGonagall's rooms...
A knock sounded at the door, it creaked open. "Minerva?"
She quickly lifted herself off the bed, and in an uncharacteristic fluster, smoothed her hair and patted down her robes. "Yes, come in, Severus. What is it?"
"Oh, nothing...I just wanted to- talk." He sat down comfortably. "Minerva..ever since- then...we've just been friends."
"Severus, we promised to never talk about that time again."
"That's because we were ashamed, Minerva. The Death Eater and Dumbledore's Second- how could they ever fall in love? How could a teacher and an ex-student have an affair?" He spat.
McGonagall sat down heavily. "What? You...you said- love." She breathed.
"I loved you, Min. I never said it...but couldn't you tell? I deserted You-Know-Who for you, I followed Dumbledore's orders...hell, Minerva- I even took a job at Hogwarts!"
"You never told me."
"I showed you. I thought you didn't love me back...and all these years I've waited and waited for something- a sign...anything from you. Nothing- we continued our charade of mutual apathy- or at most friendliness." He turned away. "You are ashamed, aren't you?"
"I'm sorry, Severus. I never knew...everything's different now...but-"
"Please, Minerva...lets just start by being friends again? You were always the only person I confided in." His black eyes were sincere.
She held out her hand. "Yes, Severus. Friends. About before..Severus, I'm sorry but-"
He gave a resigned shrug. "The time has passed. I know. We can never be as- as we were."
---
||
The Night Owl, the next night...
Padma Patil laughed at ease. She stretched her cramped muscles and ordered another drink for Daniel Booth and herself.
"Whoa, Paddy, you're knocking them down tonight!" He exclaimed. Padma gave him a wry grin before focussing her attention on her gin and tonic.
"Well, we got massacred in battle today, didn't we?" She indicated the other patrons of the small bar. "You'd almost think nothing was happening- that we weren't in the middle of a MageWar. I can't believe that these people sitting here drinking and laughing are going to be fighting You-Know-Who's demons tomorrow..."
"That's the nature of War..."
"Well, it's dumb." She put a hand to her head. "Oh, I'm so pissed..."
"What? Why're you pissed?" Padma laughed.
"I forgot you're American..pissed also means drunk, Dan." Padma hunched over her barstool.
"Padma, hi!" Padma turned and connected with a pair of intelligent grey eyes.
"Hey Celeste." Padma held out her hand formally. Her gaze travelled to Celeste's companion, he was so familiar... "This is Daniel Booth, my- date."
"Hi Daniel. This is Bla-" Celeste remembered Blaze was incognito. "Blair, Blair Graves." Padma flashed him a wide, predatory smile as he shook her hand.
"So, do you guys want to join us?"
"Uh- actually, I have to talk to Celeste for a while...thanks for the offer." Blaze replied, looping his arm around Celeste's waist and leading her off.
"Anytime!" Padma called, as they moved toward a more isolated table.
The large Wizard's Wireless crackled to life and started to blare out the Weird Sisters. It was one of their faster, louder numbers. Blaze could hardly hear himself think. He slipped into the booth with Celeste, chatting for a while.
"This place is getting way too loud." Celeste yelled, after ten minutes or so.
Blaze's eyes sparkled with supressed mischief laced with a seriousness. "Celie- what do you say we have some fun...we'll go back to my place."
Celeste seemed indecisive. "But..I don't know-"
"Hey, Celie, carpe diem...or carpe noctum I should say. For tomorrow we may, literally, die..." Blaze offered her his hand.
Celeste gave him a flirty smile. "I guess you're right." She said, taking his hand and following him out of the Night Owl.
---
||
The Edge of the Battleground...
Harry walked hand in hand with Fleur. He glanced at her face, it was uncharacteristically serious. "Fleur, what's wrong?"
"Quoi? Oh, nothing, Harry." She took her hand from his. "It's seemply- I must make a decision tonight."
"What kind of decision?"
"Oh, a very important one...one that will change my life. And the lives of others." She added as an afterthought.
"Can I help you in any way?"
Fleur turned, a hauntingly sad expression on her face. "Yes." She said, quietly. Her features suddenly hardened and became more avian- her fingers seemed to elongate and curve slightly.
She reminded Harry when the Veela had taken to their bird form. He felt a wave of fear and moved a step back. She looked truly menacing. Before he knew what was happening, she had her fingers around his neck.
Harry pulled at them to no avail. He hooked his leg around her own and pulled, bringing down his arms onto the small of her back at the same time. She crumpled to her knees. Recovering quickly, she grabbed his knees with her arms and tugged, causing Harry to fall onto his back. In a trice, she was straddling him. She ground her knee into his groin, putting pressure on his neck with her arm at the same time.
He gasped with pain. "Dammit, Fleur-what the hell-?" He choked. His eyes rolled back into his head and he drifted into hazy unconsciousness.
She took out her wand. "Petrific Totalus." She breathed, jumping off his prone form.
Her throat seized with a spasm and she doubled up, coughing blood. Veela were not really adapted to fighting. Her muscles ached, pain tore through her lower limbs. "Mobilicorpus." She said. "Visionilian." They flickered out of veiw, invisible.
Slowly, she trudged her way into Voldemort's Horseshoe...
She reversed the invisibility spell. The guard at the gate nodded twice at her. With deliberate steps, she went towards one of the VIP chambers. She knocked twice, waited for a beat, and knocked again three times. It was obviously a code, for a moment later, Senneca Liebermann opened the door. Her hair and robes were slightly dishevelled, she righted them quickly.
"I 'ave brought him. Petrified." Fleur set Harry down on Senna's bed, breathing hard. "Now please, I 'ave done as you asked..."
Senna did not reply, she turned to Sylvoren. "Tell Master we have Harry Potter. Quickly." She turned back to Fleur.
"Come." She said, simply, walking towards the dungeons she had visited earlier that day. She pushed open the metal doors. The child's eyes widened as she came in.
"Fleur!" The little child wrapped herself around Fleur's legs. "Ma soeur! Tu arrive!"
Fleur started to sob tears of joy. "Oh, Gabriele..yes, I 'ave come...I am sorry, little sister." She hugged her tightly for a few moments and then looked up. "Oh, Damien...I love you."
Her fiance enveloped her in his arms, holding her as if he would never let her go. "Fleur, I missed you...so much. I thought you'd never come back..."
"How could you think that? I love Gabriele and you more zan anytheeng in the world."
"Did you- bring Harry Potter here?"
Fleur nodded. "Yes- it was the only way...You-Know-'Oo would 'ave killed you if I 'ad not."
Senna opened the door wide. "You are free. I would advise staying within our HorseShoe...the Coalition won't exactly be thrilled about Potter's kidnapping."
Gabriele blinked in the light. She held Fleur's hand tightly. "Never leave me alone again, Fleurie. I was so scared.." She prattled, in French.
"I was scared too, Gabi...I was scared too..."
---
||
Dumbledore's room...
Blood coated the white ceramic of the sink like slick oil. It slowly dripped into the base and flowed like a vortex into the drainage pipe. Albus Dumbledore turned away clutching his stomach. His head throbbed.
He looked out of the window and onto the macabre battle scene stretching to below. Bodies were piled in inhuman, careless heaps. A funeral pyre was lit below the piles each night as per the customs of Battle.
He felt a queer shiver and looked up. Fawkes was regarding him from his perch- his eyes bright. "It's time for me to get along, isn't it, Fawkes?"
The phoenix regarded him levelly. Dumbledore pulled the pensieve from his cupboard and glanced inside the shallow bowl.
A scene quickly formed, filled with vibrant colour and life. He was there, his hair the silver-streaked auburn of a few decades past. He was handing out diploma scrolls. The first up was a shortish, but still strong teenager with messy black hair and glasses. Following him was the Head Girl, with flowing reddish-brown hair and sparkling green eyes. A young man with a mischievous grin accepted it with a wink. A more serious looking student with weary eyes and patient smile accepted the scroll gratefully. A small runt of a boy, with darting eyes took the scroll timidly.
The scene swirled and changed. Dumbledore sighed, of all of his friends, how many remained alive? He looked down and his hands. I am cursed. He thought. Whomever I touch dies...James, Lily, Sirius, Remus...my sweet Anna... He looked back into the water.
A woman with black curls and a sweet smile glanced at the door. "He's here...quickly, Albus." She pushed Albus Dumbledore into a cupboard with surprising strength. Annabel made a warning gesture. "Go, Albus- use the secret passageway! Let him take her- let him take the baby..." She hissed, sealing the door magically. "Asonoria." She made the cupboard soundproof.
"Annabel- no...he'll kill you!" She couldn't hear him.
Barely a moment later Voldemort's minions had broken the door down. Voldemort himself pointed his wand at the woman. "You have betrayed your Master's trust-my trust, Annabel Liebermann."
"Master..." Anna fell to her knees and kissed his robes. "I do not understand- I would never betray you."
Voldemort kicked out and she fell back with a yelp of pain. "I know when you are lying, foolish girl." He smiled. "I know you are having an affair with Dumbledore..."
Annabel Liebermann remained silent.
"Where is your child? Your little spawn?" Her face whitened.
"Please- no...don't do anything to her...please, I beg of you!"
Voldemort regarded her with contempt. "Avada Kedavra." Her eyes widened and remained frozen in that expression. She fell stiffly to the floor. Albus tried to push the door open and shield his sweet child- his daughter.
The door was magically locked. Dumbledore could see Voldemort through the joint. He felt like screaming with frustration. He felt so helpless. Voldemort walked confidently into the baby's room and picked her up. "Now- what would be greater revenge?" He mused.
The girl screamed. "To bring you up as my daughter..." His smile thinned to a cruel line. "Or...to have you love me as a wife?"
The baby cried harder, kicking her little legs and scrunching up it's eyes. "I think it is only fair, Annabel, don't you? You loved Dumbledore, but your little daughter will love me. Have you chosen a name?" He conversed with the corpse. "No? Well...hm, how about Senna- yes, Senneca Liebermann..."
Tears wet Dumbledore's cheeks. Tears of impotent rage. He pushed, he clawed at the wooden door. "Stop!" He yelled. "No! Annabel...my poor little girl- no!"
Voldemort strode out of the room and turned back to Annabel. "I must go and arrange training for my little betrothed- it wouldn't do if Dumbledore managed to take her away now, would it? Rest well, Annabel- you have paid the price for betrayal."
---
||
The Dungeons...
Harry opened his eyes and glanced around groggily. His vision was blurred and his head throbbed horribly. He felt like a woodpecker had squirreled itself into his cranium and was mercilessly reducing his brain into grey mush.
He pulled himself up, rubbing his neck. He was in a small, dank cell with no visible opening. He reached into his robes for his wand- and to his utter surprise and delight it was there. "Lumos!" He muttered, illuminating the cell. I should have just left it dark... He thought, peering around.
The floor was covered with a white amorphous powder that was surely once bone. Shackles hung from the walls and scrawlings covered every surface. Voldemort must have used this place even before the War. Harry's attention was drawn to those etched in blood.
"I am innocent..." He read out. His breathing came faster. "Magic Undone- Sirius!" He yelled, shifting on his seat. He jumped off of it with pain. A large glass shard now covered with blood lay on the stone. Harry picked it up- it looked like the lens of a pair of spectacles. "Remus..."
He started to inspect the walls more closely than before. His cheeks were wet with hot tears. He uncovered the journal of a man driven to insanity. 'He's at Hogwarts' was scribbled over and over again, side by side with 'I am innocent'. Scratch marks indicated that Remus had been in there at least periodically.
He found his name mentioned many times even among writings he didn't know. They disturbed him. 'The Boy Who Lived will deliver us'. He shuddered. They make me out to be some kind of saint or something...I'm no different. He bit his lip. Yes- I am. He realised.
I am different. He felt like a bubble within him had burst. For the first time he felt at peace. He could stop trying to fit in and stop pretending to be like everyone else. He could stop being ashamed of his uniqueness.
The ceiling suddenly started move, shrieking protest at the unwanted motion. Harry blinked his eyes a few times in the light. "Petrific Totalus." A cold voice said. "Mobilicorpus." Harry felt his body stiffen as he moved upwards. "Harry Potter. We meet once again." Voldemort smiled as if it were a chance happening.
Harry tried to move his lips but failed.
"And this time, Potter, I will finish what was started- oh...I have lost count. Seventeen, eighteen years ago?" He smiled. "You always were too trusting of your friends, weren't you? Who will save you now Potter? That weakling Malfoy? Your vampire Weasley? Your little MudBlood friend? Your dying Dumbledore?" Voldemort laughed mirthlessly. "Such irony isn't it? Everyone's too busy to help you."
"You won't be joining your parents too soon, Potter...I think I'll have a little fun with you first." Voldemort flicked out his wand and traced Harry's jawline with it. "Apetrifica auralis." He unPetrified Harry's mouth so he could talk.
"Potter, I want you to do me a favour..."
"Oh, I'll do anything- just name it." Harry said, sarcastically.
Voldemort leaned closer. "Crucio. Scream for me, Potter." He whispered, a twisted smile on his lips. "Scream."
---
---