A/N: Sorry I haven't written for so long, I've just been having a really bad case of writer's block. I'm not over it yet, so this isn't my best effort…
Harry Potter and the Return of Lord Voldemort Part 18
Quidditch was back on and the Gryffindor team were doing better than ever, what with Quirell in jail and out of their hair. Votes for the new captain of the team would be cast next week, and the whole Gryffindor team knew that it would be Harry, seeing as he was the best.
Harry hoped to God that he wasn't chosen, what with Voldemort's return and the homework he had been putting off because of his poisoning, he wouldn't have five minutes to himself.
Even with the dread of being voted captain, Quidditch was a blessing. Out in the open air, Harry felt that it was the only place where he could truly feel at ease with no one bothering him and asking if he was okay.
*
He watched the boy play the game. He was every bit as good as his father, except of course, his father was a Chaser, not a Seeker. You will pay, Potter. I swear it… he vowed. It's all just fun and games now isn't it? Well that's over, that's been over the second you touched the TriWizard Cup. The Dark Lord will take care of you. Very good care. Unless I get to you first… unless I do, he'll take very good care of you…
"Very good care. Very good care." He whispered and silently drifted away…
*
The match arrived and it was Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw. Draco was over the moon of this, hoping against hope that Relana was willing to put Quidditch before Harry, and that when Gryffindor won against Ravenclaw, she would dump Harry.
No such luck. Relana had stopped by at breakfast to wish Harry good luck. She was sitting at the Ravenclaw table today, because she was afraid the Ravenclaws would regard her traitorous if she sat with Harry, their strongest opponent, during game day.
Lee Jordan was comentating as usual. He swore when the Ravenclaws managed to score, earning himself, dirty looks from Harry, Ron and Hermoine, the Ravenclaws and threats to remove him from his position as comentator from Prof. McGonagall.
Harry saw the Snitch and saw Cho Chang searching desperately for it herself. Harry dove and Cho saw him and the Snitch and quickly dove, but it didn't matter. Harry had caught the Snitch before she was even halfway there. The Snitch struggled to get free as cheers erupted from the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff stands.
*
Harry took off his robe and changed into his school clothes, but before he could put on the top of his robe, he heard a rustle. Frowning, he tossed the top of his robe to the bench and slipped into his sneakers and walked outside, shirtless, his smooth, very muscular chest exposed to the cold wind. He stepped outside and his nipples instantly grew hard from the chill.
He shivered and kept walking, looking around the grounds suspiciously. Then he saw a dark pool on the grass.
"Ohhhh no!" he moaned. "Please don't be blood, please don't be blood, please don't be blood…" he said softly. Then he saw a body where the blood had trailed from, facing upward. Harry wanted more than anything to run back inside and put on a shirt. Being outside, shirtless with his nipples hard, discovering a body on the floor and a pool of blood made him feel very exposed and vulnerable.
He stared at the face, and turned white. Hannah Abbot. She was dead. And a note was taped to her hand. Harry read it and a chill went up his spine.
Watch your back, Potter, or Hannah will soon have someone new to play with. You.
*
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome and thank you for attending the funeral of Miss Hannah Abbot," the voice droned on. Harry stared around the cemetery. He saw the pale, shaken face of Susan Bones. The dead, haunted eyes of Ernie Macmillan.
Harry knew well that Ernie and Hannah were next door neighbors and had been dating in secret since the fourth year. At the start of the fifth year, they had decided to let people in on their relationship. Well, freaks who like each other die with each other, Harry thought disdainfully. Then he just realized what had run through his head. Now where the hell did THAT come from?
He shook his head, trying to clear it. He had probably been around the Dursleys too long, probably. After all attitude like that was bound to catch on, sooner or later… "You all right, Potter?"
Harry looked up to the kind face of Professor Kettleburn. He nodded slowly.
"Yeah… I guess…" he replied slowly. Kettleburn nodded.
"This must be hard for you. If there's ever anything you need…"
"Yeah, it's okay… I'll deal… eventually…" Harry assured uncertainly. Prof. Kettleburn nodded again, hugged him and swiftly walked away.
Before he knew it, the service was over and people were star ting to depart, except for Ernie and Mr. and Mrs. Abbot who were staring at Hannah's grave as if in a horrified trance. Harry started to leave too, when something caught his eye.
- Lily Potter
1969-1988
Beautiful mother of the Savior
And next to that grave…
James Potter
1968-1988
Glorious father of the Savior
And behind that grave was…
Peter Pettigrew
1968-1988
Fallen Protector of the Father and Mother of the Savior
Harry felt his rage boil inside of him. He knelt next to his parents grave. The anger had changed into uncontrollable sadness. A tear rolled down his face. "I'm sorry…" he whispered. "I'm so sorry…"
He knew it would bring them back, but he needed to tell them everything that had happened to him. "Wormtail's a liar." He managed to choke out through gritted teeth. "He betrayed you. I'm sorry. Sirius is the Protector." He cleared his throat. He let out a sob and continued. He knew that they couldn't listen to him, but it felt good to tell someone all of this.
Those who are dead never truly leave us, you know, Dumbledore had said.
"…and now he's in jail for poisoning me," Harry informed. Suddenly he became aware of how late it was. "Goodbye," he said softly and got up and placed a kiss on the top of his parents grave and kicked Pettigrew's 'grave' and left the cemetery.