"I won't cast the killing curse," Draco stated.
The refusal wasn't out of fear of Prior Incantato being used to reveal the action. Draco could be caught, and it wouldn't matter, Harry knew. The bloodstain of his signature on the paper in Draco's pocket would clear him. No, it was the nature of Avada Kedavra that prevented its use here. It was the most useless of the three Unforgivables, at least in Harry's opinion. Most people didn't realize that.
Draco knew, however. He knew it was long to say, knew that by the moment it hit, the element of surprise would be lost... knew it could be sloppily cast even by the best wizard. Harry felt Draco's gaze move to his scar once more.
Avada Kedavra was known to fail.
"I don't expect you to." Something at their feet made a leaf rustle. "Wingardium Leviosa."
A small, black snake now levitated between them. Harry studied the tiny creature.
"Deceptive, isn't it?" commented Draco. He reached out and trailed a finger along the snake, his touch prevented with the silver glow that formed a shield around the serpent. "It's not venomous, yet completely protected. Nothing can harm it."
"Everything can be harmed." Harry whispered something to the snake, then he withdrew a knife. "Finite Incantatem."
Draco almost cringed. He'd expected the snake to land on the blade, but instead it lay in two pieces on the ground. He looked up. "What did you say to it?"
Harry briefly tensed. "An apology." He looked up also and met Draco's eyes.
He shouldn't have asked. He'd momentarily forgotten Harry was under Veritaserum. He couldn't lie to him, and he hadn't been able to lie to the snake. Draco held no right to have asked. He returned his attention to the blade as Harry handed him the knife. It was black - sharp, lethal, beautiful... magical.
"Where--" This time, he stopped himself from asking. He wouldn't ask where Harry had gotten the knife, at least not now. He studied it further. The weight of it was perfect, the craftsmanship flawless, the very feel of it dark. This weapon belonged in his hand, not with somebody like Potter.
Harry... the Parselmouth who was bound to Voldemort, who bore the Dark Mark. Gryffindor's one great hope. Draco was wrong about the snake - it was Harry whose appearance was deceptive.
-----
"And to what do I owe the honor of being graced with your presence, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked, glancing up from the pile of tests he was grading from earlier in the week. "And only five hours late for class as well."
"I had a good reason for cutting class," Harry replied, snatching the paper from the man's desk. It was his own, and almost half of the answers were marked incorrect. He handed it back. "Don't do me any favors."
Snape marked the final few items wrong also, then he passed it back to Harry. "Congratulations, you failed by two points."
"Fine." Overall, he would still get the lowest possible passing grade for the class. This test didn't matter. "Anyway, my excuse. I find you bitter and irritating, and your lessons are pointless drivel, so I ditched."
Snape scowled.
"I'm serving a detention today," Harry clarified his reason for being there. "At least now I've done something to deserve it."
"You already deserved it, you insufferable little snit." The scowl remained.
"I suppose that's true." Harry sighed deeply. The "shut up, Severus" incident was already destined to go down in Hogwarts infamy. However, this time the insult was fully intentional. He wanted to know what it would feel like. Turns out, it wasn't overly satisfying. Being snippy to cover when he was ill at ease seemed to work better for Draco. "Should I apologize?"
Snape looked back up from the next test in order to watch Harry once more. "It would only serve to aggravate me further. If you need a potion, you know where they are. Take it and leave."
Harry paced a few steps. "I didn't come for a potion." They didn't help anyway, were just a bad habit. He plopped down into one of the student chairs.
"Why are you here?" The question was straight to the point. Most students didn't assign themselves detentions.
"It can wait until you're done," Harry replied.
"Very well." Snape returned to his work.
"If I'd made a list," Harry blurted after several minutes of silence, "I guess that would have been on it. Mouth off to Professor Snape."
His hand paused momentarily before resuming the note he'd been writing on one of the tests. "Are you satisfied now, or will we be revisiting that item?"
"I'm done." Harry settled back in his chair, expecting a return to silence, contenting himself to wait.
"And?"
Harry glanced over to find the man watching him. He shrugged. "And I don't know. I didn't really feel anything. Maybe that's why I never made the list... maybe I'm afraid nothing I could put on it would feel gratifying if I did it. It all seems rather pointless."
Snape set down his quill. "You're finding a lot of things pointless these days."
Was he referring to Harry's newfound tendency of skipping classes and doing shoddy work when he did show up? Harry furrowed his brow. Was he having an actual discussion with Snape? "I don't even know why I'm still at school. What am I supposed to be learning?"
"I wasn't only referring to your studies." He gave Harry a pointed look.
"I watch them all, you know? Preparing for their futures, making plans." Harry somehow kept the emotion from finding its way into his voice. "And I do know why I'm here. I have nowhere else to go. When the school year is over, I've nowhere to go. I didn't make any plans."
This would be the first year he wasn't required to go back to the Dursleys. It was supposed to be the start of some great life he was going to make for himself. That was the one bright side to losing Sirius. Harry had nothing to look forward to, nowhere to go, nobody waiting for him, and no future to regret missing.
"I look at them," he continued, "and all I can think is it must be nice. Nice to actually feel it instead of just imagine what it would be like, how it would feel to be young with a whole life ahead of you. To be able to do anything you want."
"Harry..."
"Don't." He had to stop whatever Snape was about to say. He didn't want to know. "I know my responsibilities, I know who I am. I don't pity myself. I was just observing."
Harry was not going to cry over the fact that he was going to die while still just a teenager. And he was not going to discuss his feelings about it with Snape. That wasn't what they did. Theirs was a relationship of indifference toward each other. Harry sometimes wondered if the show of not caring was just easier, for both of them. Or were they really apathetic?
"Why are you here?" Snape asked again.
Harry suddenly felt rather uncomfortable. "We need to talk."
-----
"Strike fast, plunge the blade deep, then draw it out. Don't leave it in the wound." Harry was amazed at his own detachment. This was like merely discussing a school project, and not...
No. Harry wouldn't allow himself to think beyond the technical.
Draco nodded. "Do you need it to be instant?"
Harry noticed the way he handled the knife, the way Draco was also able to talk simply about it. No faltering. Just business. Just details of a plan. This was only about how it needed to be done; it wasn't about whether or not it would hurt.
No emotions, Harry reminded himself. No emotion.
-----
Harry stopped walking and watched the two students who were sitting on the grass under a nearby tree. Ron and Hermione. They didn't notice him standing there, his stroll for some fresh air abruptly halted. He just froze.
Ron and Hermione.
They were talking comfortably, occasionally laughing, occasionally touching. Harry squinted, cocked his head slightly, studied them intently. He'd never observed them from an outside perspective before.
Ron and Hermione.
He wondered why he'd never seen them before. Them. Together. It had always been Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Now it was just...
Ron and Hermione.
It was confusing. He quickly turned away, feeling somewhat sick. He was suddenly lightheaded, disoriented. It wasn't fair. He wanted to collapse onto his knees and sob. He wanted to be selfish. He wanted things he shouldn't want. He felt things that were wrong to feel.
Across the yard, Ginny was chatting with some girls from Ravenclaw. Harry determinedly strutted over to them. "Come with me," he instructed her, cutting off one of her friends mid-sentence.
She started to say something, to object or agree, Harry didn't know which. He just latched onto her arm and started walking, dragging her along in toe.
She mumbled some complaint about needing to go over notes for Transfiguration the next day. But she fell silent quickly, accompanying him willingly, worried.
He marched up to Ron and Hermione. "I need the book."
Ron glanced up, startled. "What book?"
Hermione fished it out from her pack and handed it to him. Harry instantly pressed Ginny's hand to the cover. "What's going on?" she asked, somewhat troubled, somewhat curious.
Harry stared at Hermione. "Your hand," he ordered.
"You're adding Ginny?" She quickly got to her feet, requesting a sidebar with him.
Harry didn't release Ginny's hand. "You said you wanted to add them. Let's get it over with."
Hermione glanced at Ginny, not wanting to have this discussion in front of her. "I said I wanted to add Ron. There's some very... advanced... stuff in that book, Harry."
A laugh broke free from Harry's throat. It sounded bitter, not how his laugh was supposed to be at all. "You think Ginny's too young to read it?!"
"Yes, I do." She crossed her arms over her chest.
"How many times does Voldemort have to swipe the girl before we teach her to protect herself?" he asked, tightening his hand over hers. "It's not like you're sheltering her innocence or anything, Hermione. She's been touched by things far darker than anything in here."
He was touching her now, after all. Ginny's hand was clasped in one of a person with the Dark Mark.
She stood firm. "There are dark magics in there I don't think she needs to be learning about yet."
Ron was now on his feet also. "Do I get a say in this? She is my sister after all."
"I'm standing right here," Ginny remarked, not enjoying being talked about like she wasn't there. Worse, like she was a child when she wasn't much younger than the rest of them.
"So we just add her later?" Harry asked, his tone sarcastic. "And if anything happens to you or me, or Ron..." he added, "then Ginny gets a book of blank pages. What's she going to do, throw it at somebody when they try to kill her?"
Hermione glared at him but said nothing.
"Your hand," Harry repeated. This time she obeyed. "I solemnly swear I'm up to no good."
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," Hermione echoed.
Harry looked at Ginny. "Say your name, then swear."
"Ginny Weasley." She glanced at Hermione and Ron as if seeking permission before finishing.
"Swear." Harry's tone was firm.
"I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good," she said boldly.
Her name glowed on the cover, and Harry turned to Ron. "Now you."
Ron placed his hand on the book and said his own name, then he swore.
Property of:
Harry Potter
Granger, Hermione
Ginny Weasley
Ron Weasley
Harry looked at the words in satisfaction. At least now it was done. He shoved the book at the others, needing one of them to take it so he could let it go. As soon as it left his hands, he spun to leave.
"Harry, wait."
He didn't respond to Hermione's call. He just walked. They didn't need his hand anymore.
"Harry, are you okay?" a quiet voice asked after he'd stopped his aimless trek. He'd wound up in the Room of Requirement.
Ginny. It was her who followed him, not either of his best friends. "No."
"What's wrong?" Her tone was soft.
He held his left arm cradled to his chest. "I can't tell you."
"Do you want me to go?"
He was silent until he heard her footsteps head for the door. "Stay." He hadn't meant to ask it.
She moved to his side, and Harry pressed himself to her, burying his face against her shoulder. "Stay," he repeated, his voice broken. "Stay..."
"I will," she replied, a bit uncertain. She didn't know what was wrong with him, or what he wanted from her.
He sank to the floor and she sat with him. His fingers twisted themselves in the material of her clothing. He couldn't let go. "Don't leave me alone, Ginny." He was falling apart.
"You're trembling." She lightly stroked his back as he fought to hold back the tears.
Harry merely clung to her. He wondered if it was wrong for him to be doing this. Wrong to find solace in her touch after he'd recently touched her so wrongly. He'd kissed her. Now he was staining her with tears he shouldn't allow himself.
"Harry, please... Tell me what's wrong."
He couldn't. Wouldn't tell her. "Just hold me for a little while." He couldn't be alone.
"Alright," she promised. Harry would be held while he cried. She wouldn't let him go.
He shouldn't have felt sick seeing Ron and Hermione together. It was what he wanted, them being okay without him. Why wasn't he happy? Why did he feel jealous?
He didn't know what he wanted. When they'd been close to him, it was too painful. Being away from them was even more unbearable. Had he pushed them away to protect them, or himself? His friends were all that mattered to him, all that scared him. They were the reason he was willing to die going up against Voldemort. Not for his duty, for them. For them, he would give his life. Because of them, he didn't want to die.
"I'm afraid," he confessed to Ginny.
She gently stroked his hair. "Of what?"
Not being strong enough to do what he needed to. Of letting them down because he was too scared to let them go, to be let go of. "Failing."
-----
TBC...
Thanks for the reviews, keep them coming - good or bad. And are the italics bothering anybody other than Professor James Devine? Personally, I can read them just fine, but then again, I'm rather odd.
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