Disclaimer: if I owned Harry Potter, he'd be cleaning my house with magic, not saving the wizarding world-and he certainly wouldn't be following my orders on a fan fiction site.
A/N: Critique is most welcome. Please share your thoughts on the story; even and perhaps especially the bad ones. I need to improve my writing more than I need an ego boost.
Also, when Harry thinks 'that was too easy' at the end of the chapter, it's because it was too easy…something is going on. House points to everyone who figures out what it is before I explain it in the story.
center b Harry Potter and the Second Voldemort War /b
Chapter Two:
The Deal /center
The evening was beautiful, and Harry was determined to enjoy it to its fullest. He walked slowly, kicking a rock in front of him down the quiet street. The roads he took were leading him in the general direction of the park, but he wasn't in any sort of hurry. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of Dudley's baggy jeans out of habit, smiling slightly as he felt his fingers brush the letters tucked within.
Harry didn't get letters from his friends very often, because owls- the method of choice for delivering wizarding post- could be intercepted. A letter that fell into the wrong hands could end up aiding the efforts of Voldemort, so correspondence was kept to an absolute minimum.
In fact, Harry hadn't been expecting to get anything from his friends until his birthday, two weeks away. The two letters (one each from his best friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger) would give his troubled mind something to dwell on in the meantime.
Halfway to the park, Harry sat himself down on a stretch of curb and pulled Hermione's letters out of his pocket. The letter was written on plain paper and with a pen, as opposed to the wizarding method of using parchment and a quill. Harry assumed that she was enjoying her limitless access to technology; it was the greatest advantage of living with Muggles.
i Dear Harry,
I'm sorry about the length (or lack thereof) of this letter, but Tonks is loose in my parents' kitchen waiting while I write this. Mum and Dad are really understanding, but I don't think that stretches to the likely results of leaving Tonks and a bunch of breakable things in the same room, unsupervised.
I really hope you're ok. You seemed shell-shocked when I last saw you, and being cut off from us all-well, it must be horrible for you. I can't tell you much, even with this letter being hand delivered. Putting things on paper is dangerous. Still- I'm doing well.
Luna wrote to me once. She's well- hasn't found any . . . whatever it was she was looking for . . . but she's enjoying her holiday. I don't think she's suffered any ill effects. Neville wrote too. He said he sent a note to you, but it came back undelivered. I told him you were unavailable. He told me to tell you that his Gran is really proud.
I'm so upset. I can't do homework until I choose my classes for next term, and I can't do that until I get my results back. I don't like waiting until the end of Holiday to do my homework- what if something happens? I won't be able to get it all done . . .
I just heard a crash. I'd better go. Don't get too depressed in that emotional cesspit.
With Love,
Hermione /i
Harry chuckled as he finished the letter, thinking of Hermione bent over the paper, scribbling away while Tonks destroyed her kitchen. Tonks was a member of the Order of the Phoenix, an undercover organization led by Dumbledore to fight Voldemort. While she was a very good Auror for her young age, Tonks was infamously clumsy.
"Look, it's Potter"
The jeering voice brought Harry harshly out of his thoughts. He didn't have time to catch the speaker, but the tone was familiar. It was the same tone he'd heard all his life; from Dudley and his friends, from Draco Malfoy and his, from Lucius Malfoy- and most memorably- from Bellatrix Lestrange.
It was the tone of a bully with a victim laid out before them.
Harry's head snapped up. There were six of them, so close that their distorted shadows nearly touched his lap. He scrambled backwards and up, climbing gracelessly to his feet as he looked at the boys. They were familiar to him; some of them by name, some just by type.
"Ah, Piers, don't waste time on that rubbish" the biggest sneered and shrugged a beefy shoulder. His piggy eyes told the truth, however, flickering about in fear. He was Harry's cousin, and the only one of the group that knew about magic, or that Harry could defend himself.
"What else are we goin' ta do, Big D" It was that voice again; the one which brought up barely suppressed emotions of hatred and vicious anger. Harry closed his eyes, fighting off the urge to hex Piers Polkiss, Dudley's oldest friend, to bits. Before Harry could control himself- or Dudley could find an excuse- Piers pressed on. "Anyway, we should do it for old time's sake. It's been years since we've done him properly."
Suddenly, something burst through Harry's anger and he realized that he was trapped. The four other boys stood as they had been when Piers shouted, spread out in a loose cluster on the street. His irrational hatred fled in the face of this new problem- how to get himself out without doing magic (and getting himself in trouble with the Ministry of Magic, yet again).
i Hermione /i he thought desperately. i What would she do in this situation? How would she get out of this /i A plan began to form in the back of his mind as he looked at the group of teens preparing to beat him up. i Think like Hermione. She got us out of the mess with Umbridge. How /i
i Of course /i It came to him suddenly. i Intimidate the leader. /i Then there was another thought. i Who is the leader /i It was Dudley's gang, but from the confidence Piers was displaying, Dudley wasn't the sort to rein in his followers. i Anyway, Dudley's already intimidated. So. /i Harry tried to imagine Hermione's reaction again . . . and then the plan fell into place.
"Well, if you want to waste your time doin' that, Piers, I'm not stopping you" Dudley said, still doing a poor job concealing his nerves. Piers smirked and started towards Harry.
"It has been a long time, hasn't it, Potter" he asked in a voice he obviously thought was smoothly intimidating.
Harry smirked and shrugged. "Too long, Polkiss. Much too long" he said casually, as if he wasn't being threatened. Showing fear had never helped him in the past.
Piers faltered, even at this little show of confidence, and Dudley twitched as though longing to interfere. Harry felt his faith in his plan go up a notch. Obviously the gang wasn't used to victims that didn't cower.
"How long has it been, exactly" Harry pushed on. "But perhaps you can't count. Weren't you the smart one? Always did Dudley's homework for him . . . no wonder he failed all the time . . ."
Harry
had pushed too far, too quickly, and both the boys suddenly felt the
need to defend themselves. Piers leapt forward and snatched the
forgotten letter from Harry's hand, making it clear what his purpose
in the group was.
The rest were big- he was fast. He jumped back
with the letter, leaving Harry powerless to retrieve it.
A hot wall of anger cut off his common sense, and Harry again found himself wishing they would attack, wishing they would give him any excuse to use his magic. It would be so easy to curse them. They would run off, screaming for their mothers . . . if he left them legs to run on, or mouths to scream with. The Bat-Bogey hex came to mind.
His brain was dancing with images of impending doom for Big D's gang.
"A girlfriend, Potter? Who'd go out with the likes of you" Piers snapped, scanning the letter.
Before Harry could answer, Dudley jumped in, obviously needing to save face in front of his gang. "Girlfriend? And here I thought you fancied boys . . . What happened to Cedric? Did he dump you"
Harry's rising anger cooled as abruptly as though he'd walked through a ghost. A wave of images washed over him . . . a flash of green light . . . a falling body . . .
Then the anger came back, no longer hot and uncontrollable, but the low build of it in his stomach, cold and calculated. He wanted to cause pain to these boys, to teach them what it really was to be hurt, to explain to them that there were things much worse than the silly matter of being dumped.
He hit them with the worst thing he could- the truth about what the world was really like.
"Dudley" he said coldly"I told you never to mention that again." He advanced slowly, taking a step towards his two tormentors. The anger felt like something alive inside of him, a ball of power straining outwards. "But since you asked, Cedric was murdered. He was murdered- in cold blood- for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Murdered by my enemies."
He stepped forward again, pleased to see Dudley draw back. He made a conscious effort to fight down the wandless magic that tried to erupt out of him as his fury built. "What makes you think I would fear you" he squinted at them"Or even think of you, when I have enemies like that" Harry took another step forward, turning his attention from a thoroughly terrified Dudley, to Piers and the confused cluster of boys on the street. "Do you want to know what happened to them? The ones who killed Cedric" he asked in a low, quiet voice.
There was a pause. Then he began to stretch the truth a bit for effect. "I found them. They won't be causing trouble for anyone for a long time now." Slightly disgusted that they were lapping up his hyperbole, Harry turned back to Dudley. "I don't particularly care about you and your gang. I just want to go where I want without being harassed by petty criminals. I'll leave you alone, if you leave me alone."
He extended a hand to Dudley, who took it, trying to look tough but seeming a bit relieved.
"Good" said Harry, adding a sarcastically polite"The letter" He held out his palm.
Piers shoved it wordlessly into Harry's hands, and the boys turned and walked away. There was a bit more speed to their step than normal. Harry was left behind, thinking i That was too easy. /i Another thought struck him hard. i Piers read Hermione's letter /i
Harry read through the letter again, relieved to find no mention of magic. The relief was quickly replaced by self-disgust. i One would think, Potter /i he told himself in a perfect imitation of his least favorite teacher, Professor Snape i that you would have learned the consequences of not thinking through your actions, wouldn't they? But it appears not. If Piers had read something about charms, or owls, or wands, you would have been in a tight spot. /i
Feeling rather shaken from his encounter, Harry continued towards the park.
