Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.
a/n see bottom. you know how I kept saying chapter 12 was long? well... it wasn't really that long, this part was originally part of it, and it sorta got chopped. So... ignore what I was rambling about before *grin*
Cheating Death
By neutral
Chapter twelve - cheating more enemies
Harry fidgeted with the edge of his robes, "Pettigrew," Harry said simply.
James' expression fell in an instant. "What did he do?" he asked carefully. His voice bore no anger, he had accepted the betrayal long ago. The dead never clung to such things, it was only the living that fretted over them. It always seemed that the people who suffered from loss were more heavily hit than the person who died. But even so, James was fearful of what Peter could have done against his best friend. Knowing Sirius' hot tempered character…
James' mind clicked. He swallowed, throat constricting painfully. "Sirius killed him, didn't he? He killed him and they never gave him a trial. Everyone thought Sirius was Voldermort's supporter out for vengeance, didn't they?"
James was almost afraid to meet Harry's eyes. But he couldn't help but sigh in relief at Harry's simple 'no.' But his next words froze the blood in his veins.
"Peter framed him, faked his own death, and got Sirius thrown in Akzaban for twelve years."
James' mind reeled. All he could do was stare at the boy beside him in shock, eyes wide and mouth gaping. All these years, he imagined his best friend raising his son with a mixture of envy and relief, they were trapped in miserable lives.
"Oh god," he whispered, his voice strained. James shook his head, burying his face in his hands. "That happened to him? Because of Lily and I. We destroyed him…"
Harry was quiet, at a loss of what to say. James echoed his silence, even the soft sounds of breathing muffled.
"What happened to Pettigrew?" James couldn't keep the bitterness from his words.
Harry shifted uneasily. "He never got caught."
James was unable to find his voice for a long time. He gritted his teeth in frustration; after all they did for that rat, he repaid them by sending Sirius to prison! What wouldn't he do to give those years back…
"So, Sirius is…," James swallowed, the news straining his mind and blurring his thoughts. "… insane now, isn't he?"
"He's alright. I met him in my third year when he escaped. He's still pretty normal," Harry's face brightened with a brief smile.
"Really? How?" James asked excitedly. He shook his head, afraid to belief but hopeful at the same time. "Nevermind that, how is he?"
Harry's face fell. "Well, he… he's not that happy. He had a lot of guilt. Sirius thinks its his fault that you and Mum died," Harry said quietly.
James' head snapped back up, "He believes that?"
Harry nodded, face shadowed in the dark. James sighed, rubbing his face angrily. What wouldn't he give to get out of this dump. What wouldn't he give to just see his best friend again and pound some sense into his head.
"How's Moony, then?" James asked, a bit fearful of the answer.
"He's alright. He was a professor at Hogwarts for Defense Against Dark Arts for a year, but I don't really know what happened after that."
James smiled wistfully. "That sounds like Remus. He was always the sensible one, stays on his feet no matter what's thrown at him."
Harry nodded, looking thoughtful.
"What about you?" James asked, watching Harry carefully.
That seemed to silence instantly Harry. He stared at his father with a hard emerald gaze that made James uneasy. Harry's eyes were Lily's to the exact shade, and yet, they were so different. Harry's were restrained, almost icy in their calmness. Every gaze seemed to pierce him right through.
"I…," Harry frowned; he seemed to be mentally filing through his memory and filtering out anything he didn't wish to share. "I lived the Dursleys."
"What?!" James' thinned his lips into a tight line. "I can't believe Dumbledore did that. I mean, he kept saying that keeping you with Lily's relatives are the safest because of the blood protection, but I never thought he'd follow through with it! What did they do to you? Run you around the house with chores? Throw you all their broken junk? Lock you in a cupboard?"
James couldn't control the fury than ran away with all the horrible images that his mind conjured up with his son's ten year stay with his relatives. Harry drew back further into the shadows, alarmed by the anger that permeated through his voice. If James had known how close he struck his mark, Harry could hardly guess what his reaction would be if he knew.
"It wasn't too bad there," Harry mumbled.
James sighed, exasperated, "Harry, are you ever going to tell me anything?"
Harry turned to him with another searching gaze. "If I told you everything you just said were true, what would you do?"
James grinned, but it faded quickly when he realized Harry was dead serious. "Well, I would wring Vernon's fat neck and burn down their house for revenge. But I can't really do that, can I?" James sighed, rubbing his face. "I don't know. I can't imagine what I would do. I mean, sleeping in a cupboard is just ridiculous."
Harry snapped his jaw shut with an audible click.
"It was alright. I learned a lot with them," Harry said with finality.
"Harry!" James couldn't hide the frustration leaking into his tone.
At that, he seemed to finally relent. "They didn't like magic. They thought I was strange," Harry whispered.
James nodded in understanding, recalling the weekends he sent with Lily's family. There was a sharp stab of guilt as he pulled his son closer and trying to smooth out the hair he just ruffled. "Harry, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not being there. I'm sorry for what you had to go through. I…"
Harry shuddered at those words, and when he spoke, James was surprised to her a tremor in his voice as if he was desperately holding back sobs. "You're sorry too?" he choked out. "Sirius is sorry. Dumbledore is sorry. I think Professor Lupin is sorry too. I wish you could all just let it go. It doesn't really matter anymore."
If it wasn't for the rather grim situation, James would have laughed aloud at Harry's title for Remus. Instead, he frowned, slightly baffled by Harry's words, but disturbed nonetheless. "Harry, what do you mean?"
Harry shook his head and pulled away, wiping his eyes angrily. "My death. Sirius thinks my death is his fault. He thinks I died because of him. That isn't true!" Harry paused, his words faltering slightly. "No, a small part of it is, but not in the way that he thinks. It's not his fault, because…" Harry's voice drifted, and James could almost see him withdraw behind the wall. Harry shook his head, turning towards him with a small smile. "It doesn't matter. I'm glad I'm here now."
"Harry, you shouldn't think that," James said, holding Harry's gaze firmly. "We were all upset that you had to die. You should have had the chance to live your life."
"It wasn't that wonderful," Harry murmured bitterly.
James was silent, worriedly looking at the boy. Harry was so different from what he imagined; from all the stories he heard, Harry was a confident, almost arrogant boy. He was self-assured, ready to take anything anybody threw at him. James had felt pride at his son's achievements then, glad that Harry had managed even without the guidance of his parents. But something told him that story was too idealized to be true. But he had hoped. Even so, he never imagined Harry to be so… haunted.
"How did it happen?" he finally asked, looking at the flickering fire.
Harry stared at him for a long time with an almost calculating look. "It wasn't Sirius' fault," he said finally. "Voldermort caught him and tried to use him as bait. They tortured him for weeks."
James growled, the knuckles on his fist turning white as he gripped his robes in anger. "That sounds like something that bastard would do," James scowled, flicking at a rock, but something seemed to click in his mind. His head snapped up and he looked at Harry in alarm. "You went even though you knew it was a trap, didn't you? Running off with foolish thoughts of rescuing him…"
"If you were in that same position, you'd do that too!" Harry said quickly, voice trembling. "I knew it wasn't going to work. I…"
Harry stopped abruptly. James had the idea he wasn't going to give any more details.
"Harry, what did you do?"
Harry answered with silence, despite the intent stare James was giving him. Realization and understanding dawned on him, and James could feel his stomach fill with ice.
"No…" He reached forward and drew Harry gripped him firmly by the shoulders, forcing him to meet his gaze, anger, frustration, and sadness filtering through his mind. "Harry, you idiot. You went even though you knew you were going to die, weren't you?" James whispered harshly. "Do you have any idea what you've just done? Sirius is going to be torn. He's never going to forgive himself. You might as well have killed him!"
"I know!" Harry stood up quickly, looking pained. James was surprised to see tears brimming in his eyes. "I know… I saw… I just wanted him to be alive."
But James didn't seem to hear the last words at all. He looked at Harry, gaping. "You saw?"
"I saw Sirius, right after I left the woods and before I came here."
James jumped to his feet. "You've seen Padfoot? You can leave this place?"
Harry nodded, a bit alarmed at his father's reaction. "We're not suppose to?"
A loud shatter drowned out whatever James was going to say next. Instinctively, James grabbed his son and tried to shield him from the sharp splitters of rock, his free hand gripping his wand tightly. Without waiting for the smoke to clear, James pointed haphazardly towards the entrance and shouted
"Stupefy!"
There was a grunt, and the sound of something heavy falling.
"Expelliarmus!"
James' stomach sank when his wand tore out of his hand and vanished in the thick smoke. He pulled Harry towards the fall wall, cloak and all, trying to keep him out of any curses that may come his way.
"Give us the boy," came a cold, hard voice.
Despite himself, James could hair rising at the back of his neck. He remained silent, pulling Harry into a protective embrace. "Quick, I'll distract them. Don't move from here, okay?" he whispered.
The smoke burned his eyes and made it impossible to see his son's reaction. Distantly, he could hear words of protest, before he flung himself towards the sound of voices.
Harry tried to cry out, tried to stop the father he just found from leaving again. But when James vanished into the thick of the smoke, he couldn't help but wish he could do something. Anything. If only he had his wand.
There was a sharp cry, and then a shuffle of feet.
"You bastards…" came an angry hiss, but the next words were interrupted with a cry of pain.
Harry's stomach twisted. "Dad!" he called urgently.
It was stupid, Harry soon realized. He just gave away his position. Instantly, shadows were on him, cold hands grabbing at his arms. He struck back angrily, the scene too reminiscent of the morning the Riddle house, where a swarm of Death Eaters surrounded him and came close to killing him. Harry could feel the fear and desperation returing, bile rising in the back of his throat. He kicked out blindly, trying to force his way out of mob, but when a fist met his face solidly and threw his head against the wall, Harry felt his resolution crumble. His head pounded, and his black spots filled his vision. He stumbled against a body weakly, grasping the folds of a stranger's cloak to remain standing. Distantly, he could feel himself being lifted, hands dragging his body along the rough floor.
Abruptly, the smoke cleared, but Harry still couldn't see. Everything came in a wild blur; there was a mass of black shapes swimming in his eyes.
He lost his glasses, Harry realized.
He could feel himself lying on the ground, cold wind whipping his body again.
"Dad?" he called out desperately.
A cold, harsh laugh tickled his ear, "Look, the boy is only a pitiful child after all. No one's here to save you now, is there?"
"What did you do to my dad?!" Harry said angrily.
"Ah, who knows, I wonder. You know, Potter, master killed me because of you."
A hand grabbed his hair, pulling him roughly to his feet. Harry cried out in pain, struggling to follow the stranger, when something connected with his back and threw him to the floor. The rocks ate into his chest and set fire across his ribs. Harry twisted against the man, but it only made him pull his hair painfully.
"Let go!" Harry snapped angrily. He aimed a kick but only struck air. "Cowards! You're just taking your anger out on me because you're too afraid of Voldermort!"
That was an instant death sentence. Angry voices filled his ears. The hand released him abruptly, and blows came from all sides. Harry tried to fight back, but it only seemed to anger them more. A kick forced all the breath out of his lungs; a weight forced itself on his collarbone and trapped him against the ground. Harry covered his face to shield himself, trying to squirm away from the sharp pain, but the weight on his shoulder kept increasing. There was a dull crunch, and fire, white hot fire, seemed to lick at his flesh and blood. There was anguished screaming, and it took a while for Harry to realize that it was his own. He couldn't even feel the kicks aimed at his ribs. He was only aware of the scalding brand against his shoulder.
Distantly, he could feel himself being dragged again. A jerk jostled his arm, and tears rushed to his eyes from the pain. Then the hands were gone, and Harry could feel his body falling back, only there wasn't a surface to stop him. The wind rustled past his ears angrily, the cloak flying in the air.
He was falling.
*
I know, I kept Harry vague. There will be more details later. I didn't really think Harry would give James every single detail after meeting him for an hour. As for James' reactions, well… I couldn't get his personality straight. I always thought James was calmer and more mellow than Sirius. He's sort of like a Sirius and Remus in between. Plus, he's had thirteen years to dwell of what ifs. All in all… I screwed up.
Looks like everyone wants to hear Harry's side of the tale and James' reaction. Well, I originally never planned to add it, since it seemed to take too much unnecessary room and plot content, but well… maybe… a vote on that?
I can make the chapters longer, but longer chapters = longer wait time! Especially since I struck a nice writers' block with Draco's reaction. Lin-z, help!! I can't seem to write it, and when I did, Draco sounds like… Minerva. Oopsie. Maybe I should sacrifice Draco for more James and Harry bonding? Gee, that sounds funny, doesn't it? I don't think chapter 14 will be out in the usual 2 day time frame considering the problem I'm having with it right now.
Uh oh, another cliffee. This is not good for my health.
a/n see bottom. you know how I kept saying chapter 12 was long? well... it wasn't really that long, this part was originally part of it, and it sorta got chopped. So... ignore what I was rambling about before *grin*
Cheating Death
By neutral
Chapter twelve - cheating more enemies
Harry fidgeted with the edge of his robes, "Pettigrew," Harry said simply.
James' expression fell in an instant. "What did he do?" he asked carefully. His voice bore no anger, he had accepted the betrayal long ago. The dead never clung to such things, it was only the living that fretted over them. It always seemed that the people who suffered from loss were more heavily hit than the person who died. But even so, James was fearful of what Peter could have done against his best friend. Knowing Sirius' hot tempered character…
James' mind clicked. He swallowed, throat constricting painfully. "Sirius killed him, didn't he? He killed him and they never gave him a trial. Everyone thought Sirius was Voldermort's supporter out for vengeance, didn't they?"
James was almost afraid to meet Harry's eyes. But he couldn't help but sigh in relief at Harry's simple 'no.' But his next words froze the blood in his veins.
"Peter framed him, faked his own death, and got Sirius thrown in Akzaban for twelve years."
James' mind reeled. All he could do was stare at the boy beside him in shock, eyes wide and mouth gaping. All these years, he imagined his best friend raising his son with a mixture of envy and relief, they were trapped in miserable lives.
"Oh god," he whispered, his voice strained. James shook his head, burying his face in his hands. "That happened to him? Because of Lily and I. We destroyed him…"
Harry was quiet, at a loss of what to say. James echoed his silence, even the soft sounds of breathing muffled.
"What happened to Pettigrew?" James couldn't keep the bitterness from his words.
Harry shifted uneasily. "He never got caught."
James was unable to find his voice for a long time. He gritted his teeth in frustration; after all they did for that rat, he repaid them by sending Sirius to prison! What wouldn't he do to give those years back…
"So, Sirius is…," James swallowed, the news straining his mind and blurring his thoughts. "… insane now, isn't he?"
"He's alright. I met him in my third year when he escaped. He's still pretty normal," Harry's face brightened with a brief smile.
"Really? How?" James asked excitedly. He shook his head, afraid to belief but hopeful at the same time. "Nevermind that, how is he?"
Harry's face fell. "Well, he… he's not that happy. He had a lot of guilt. Sirius thinks its his fault that you and Mum died," Harry said quietly.
James' head snapped back up, "He believes that?"
Harry nodded, face shadowed in the dark. James sighed, rubbing his face angrily. What wouldn't he give to get out of this dump. What wouldn't he give to just see his best friend again and pound some sense into his head.
"How's Moony, then?" James asked, a bit fearful of the answer.
"He's alright. He was a professor at Hogwarts for Defense Against Dark Arts for a year, but I don't really know what happened after that."
James smiled wistfully. "That sounds like Remus. He was always the sensible one, stays on his feet no matter what's thrown at him."
Harry nodded, looking thoughtful.
"What about you?" James asked, watching Harry carefully.
That seemed to silence instantly Harry. He stared at his father with a hard emerald gaze that made James uneasy. Harry's eyes were Lily's to the exact shade, and yet, they were so different. Harry's were restrained, almost icy in their calmness. Every gaze seemed to pierce him right through.
"I…," Harry frowned; he seemed to be mentally filing through his memory and filtering out anything he didn't wish to share. "I lived the Dursleys."
"What?!" James' thinned his lips into a tight line. "I can't believe Dumbledore did that. I mean, he kept saying that keeping you with Lily's relatives are the safest because of the blood protection, but I never thought he'd follow through with it! What did they do to you? Run you around the house with chores? Throw you all their broken junk? Lock you in a cupboard?"
James couldn't control the fury than ran away with all the horrible images that his mind conjured up with his son's ten year stay with his relatives. Harry drew back further into the shadows, alarmed by the anger that permeated through his voice. If James had known how close he struck his mark, Harry could hardly guess what his reaction would be if he knew.
"It wasn't too bad there," Harry mumbled.
James sighed, exasperated, "Harry, are you ever going to tell me anything?"
Harry turned to him with another searching gaze. "If I told you everything you just said were true, what would you do?"
James grinned, but it faded quickly when he realized Harry was dead serious. "Well, I would wring Vernon's fat neck and burn down their house for revenge. But I can't really do that, can I?" James sighed, rubbing his face. "I don't know. I can't imagine what I would do. I mean, sleeping in a cupboard is just ridiculous."
Harry snapped his jaw shut with an audible click.
"It was alright. I learned a lot with them," Harry said with finality.
"Harry!" James couldn't hide the frustration leaking into his tone.
At that, he seemed to finally relent. "They didn't like magic. They thought I was strange," Harry whispered.
James nodded in understanding, recalling the weekends he sent with Lily's family. There was a sharp stab of guilt as he pulled his son closer and trying to smooth out the hair he just ruffled. "Harry, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not being there. I'm sorry for what you had to go through. I…"
Harry shuddered at those words, and when he spoke, James was surprised to her a tremor in his voice as if he was desperately holding back sobs. "You're sorry too?" he choked out. "Sirius is sorry. Dumbledore is sorry. I think Professor Lupin is sorry too. I wish you could all just let it go. It doesn't really matter anymore."
If it wasn't for the rather grim situation, James would have laughed aloud at Harry's title for Remus. Instead, he frowned, slightly baffled by Harry's words, but disturbed nonetheless. "Harry, what do you mean?"
Harry shook his head and pulled away, wiping his eyes angrily. "My death. Sirius thinks my death is his fault. He thinks I died because of him. That isn't true!" Harry paused, his words faltering slightly. "No, a small part of it is, but not in the way that he thinks. It's not his fault, because…" Harry's voice drifted, and James could almost see him withdraw behind the wall. Harry shook his head, turning towards him with a small smile. "It doesn't matter. I'm glad I'm here now."
"Harry, you shouldn't think that," James said, holding Harry's gaze firmly. "We were all upset that you had to die. You should have had the chance to live your life."
"It wasn't that wonderful," Harry murmured bitterly.
James was silent, worriedly looking at the boy. Harry was so different from what he imagined; from all the stories he heard, Harry was a confident, almost arrogant boy. He was self-assured, ready to take anything anybody threw at him. James had felt pride at his son's achievements then, glad that Harry had managed even without the guidance of his parents. But something told him that story was too idealized to be true. But he had hoped. Even so, he never imagined Harry to be so… haunted.
"How did it happen?" he finally asked, looking at the flickering fire.
Harry stared at him for a long time with an almost calculating look. "It wasn't Sirius' fault," he said finally. "Voldermort caught him and tried to use him as bait. They tortured him for weeks."
James growled, the knuckles on his fist turning white as he gripped his robes in anger. "That sounds like something that bastard would do," James scowled, flicking at a rock, but something seemed to click in his mind. His head snapped up and he looked at Harry in alarm. "You went even though you knew it was a trap, didn't you? Running off with foolish thoughts of rescuing him…"
"If you were in that same position, you'd do that too!" Harry said quickly, voice trembling. "I knew it wasn't going to work. I…"
Harry stopped abruptly. James had the idea he wasn't going to give any more details.
"Harry, what did you do?"
Harry answered with silence, despite the intent stare James was giving him. Realization and understanding dawned on him, and James could feel his stomach fill with ice.
"No…" He reached forward and drew Harry gripped him firmly by the shoulders, forcing him to meet his gaze, anger, frustration, and sadness filtering through his mind. "Harry, you idiot. You went even though you knew you were going to die, weren't you?" James whispered harshly. "Do you have any idea what you've just done? Sirius is going to be torn. He's never going to forgive himself. You might as well have killed him!"
"I know!" Harry stood up quickly, looking pained. James was surprised to see tears brimming in his eyes. "I know… I saw… I just wanted him to be alive."
But James didn't seem to hear the last words at all. He looked at Harry, gaping. "You saw?"
"I saw Sirius, right after I left the woods and before I came here."
James jumped to his feet. "You've seen Padfoot? You can leave this place?"
Harry nodded, a bit alarmed at his father's reaction. "We're not suppose to?"
A loud shatter drowned out whatever James was going to say next. Instinctively, James grabbed his son and tried to shield him from the sharp splitters of rock, his free hand gripping his wand tightly. Without waiting for the smoke to clear, James pointed haphazardly towards the entrance and shouted
"Stupefy!"
There was a grunt, and the sound of something heavy falling.
"Expelliarmus!"
James' stomach sank when his wand tore out of his hand and vanished in the thick smoke. He pulled Harry towards the fall wall, cloak and all, trying to keep him out of any curses that may come his way.
"Give us the boy," came a cold, hard voice.
Despite himself, James could hair rising at the back of his neck. He remained silent, pulling Harry into a protective embrace. "Quick, I'll distract them. Don't move from here, okay?" he whispered.
The smoke burned his eyes and made it impossible to see his son's reaction. Distantly, he could hear words of protest, before he flung himself towards the sound of voices.
Harry tried to cry out, tried to stop the father he just found from leaving again. But when James vanished into the thick of the smoke, he couldn't help but wish he could do something. Anything. If only he had his wand.
There was a sharp cry, and then a shuffle of feet.
"You bastards…" came an angry hiss, but the next words were interrupted with a cry of pain.
Harry's stomach twisted. "Dad!" he called urgently.
It was stupid, Harry soon realized. He just gave away his position. Instantly, shadows were on him, cold hands grabbing at his arms. He struck back angrily, the scene too reminiscent of the morning the Riddle house, where a swarm of Death Eaters surrounded him and came close to killing him. Harry could feel the fear and desperation returing, bile rising in the back of his throat. He kicked out blindly, trying to force his way out of mob, but when a fist met his face solidly and threw his head against the wall, Harry felt his resolution crumble. His head pounded, and his black spots filled his vision. He stumbled against a body weakly, grasping the folds of a stranger's cloak to remain standing. Distantly, he could feel himself being lifted, hands dragging his body along the rough floor.
Abruptly, the smoke cleared, but Harry still couldn't see. Everything came in a wild blur; there was a mass of black shapes swimming in his eyes.
He lost his glasses, Harry realized.
He could feel himself lying on the ground, cold wind whipping his body again.
"Dad?" he called out desperately.
A cold, harsh laugh tickled his ear, "Look, the boy is only a pitiful child after all. No one's here to save you now, is there?"
"What did you do to my dad?!" Harry said angrily.
"Ah, who knows, I wonder. You know, Potter, master killed me because of you."
A hand grabbed his hair, pulling him roughly to his feet. Harry cried out in pain, struggling to follow the stranger, when something connected with his back and threw him to the floor. The rocks ate into his chest and set fire across his ribs. Harry twisted against the man, but it only made him pull his hair painfully.
"Let go!" Harry snapped angrily. He aimed a kick but only struck air. "Cowards! You're just taking your anger out on me because you're too afraid of Voldermort!"
That was an instant death sentence. Angry voices filled his ears. The hand released him abruptly, and blows came from all sides. Harry tried to fight back, but it only seemed to anger them more. A kick forced all the breath out of his lungs; a weight forced itself on his collarbone and trapped him against the ground. Harry covered his face to shield himself, trying to squirm away from the sharp pain, but the weight on his shoulder kept increasing. There was a dull crunch, and fire, white hot fire, seemed to lick at his flesh and blood. There was anguished screaming, and it took a while for Harry to realize that it was his own. He couldn't even feel the kicks aimed at his ribs. He was only aware of the scalding brand against his shoulder.
Distantly, he could feel himself being dragged again. A jerk jostled his arm, and tears rushed to his eyes from the pain. Then the hands were gone, and Harry could feel his body falling back, only there wasn't a surface to stop him. The wind rustled past his ears angrily, the cloak flying in the air.
He was falling.
*
I know, I kept Harry vague. There will be more details later. I didn't really think Harry would give James every single detail after meeting him for an hour. As for James' reactions, well… I couldn't get his personality straight. I always thought James was calmer and more mellow than Sirius. He's sort of like a Sirius and Remus in between. Plus, he's had thirteen years to dwell of what ifs. All in all… I screwed up.
Looks like everyone wants to hear Harry's side of the tale and James' reaction. Well, I originally never planned to add it, since it seemed to take too much unnecessary room and plot content, but well… maybe… a vote on that?
I can make the chapters longer, but longer chapters = longer wait time! Especially since I struck a nice writers' block with Draco's reaction. Lin-z, help!! I can't seem to write it, and when I did, Draco sounds like… Minerva. Oopsie. Maybe I should sacrifice Draco for more James and Harry bonding? Gee, that sounds funny, doesn't it? I don't think chapter 14 will be out in the usual 2 day time frame considering the problem I'm having with it right now.
Uh oh, another cliffee. This is not good for my health.