Lady Knight of Kennan - Ronnikin's reaction away! *salutes* Glad that my
review of In Hiding was helpful. ^____^
Slytherin Punk Chick - Eyebrow rings... I've managed to convince my
over-bearing mother into allowing me to pierce my eyebrow for graduation.
Mind you, two years ago I convinced her to let me get a tattoo for
graduation, as well. So, eyebrow ring and tattoo, only about six months
away. How the hell am I going to wait that long? Well, at least I have my
eight earrings to play with.
Schulyr - Scaring roommates is the best compliment I've gotten in a long
while. Demented fics should have demented laughter with which to terrify
the uninitiated.
I had this awesome idea for what Weapon's transformation was; I just don't
want to say it until I actually get the wards off, just so that everyone
can be surprised. I just love the idea. ^___^
Le Potter et ez fronds belong-ez not tou mademoiselle Itch.
Wolfos and Riddle's stuffed snake Rilos are the Itch's inventions.
No stealing!
---
Blackened Sunrise
Chapter Nineteen: Ruminations
The Itch
---
Ninety-five percent of the time, humans are not suicidal.
Nope, just very, very stupid, Tom Riddle thought with a gleeful cackle,
using his "experimental sciences" to "heal" a seventeen year old
suffering from breast cancer. She was dead in an instant and his
"assistants" joined him in a healthy, megalomaniac laugh. Ah, he loved
being paid to murder muggles.
There was nothing better, in his mind.
Except...
Except killing anyone with an ounce of Heir-blood-- excluding himself,
of course. Besides, he'd already been dead, so it didn't really matter.
In any case, there was only one Heir left alive-- Harry James Potter.
Annoying prat, why couldn't he just _die_ already?!
Of course, no one really knew what Harry was the Heir of, he reflected
with some amusement. Oh yes, there were those rumors about the Potters
being descendants of Godric Gryffindor, but those were just rumors, in
order to protect the real Heirs of Gryffindor-- of whom Tom had wiped
out of existence a good twenty years earlier. He'd wiped out all those
with Slytherin's blood, excluding himself, wiped out all of the
Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff bloodlines. Merlin's bloodline only existed
through to Dumbledore, but he'd killed off Albus' wife, children,
grandchildren, siblings, nephews and nieces and cousins already. The
old man was the last of his line.
He had Morgana Le Fey's bloodline working for him, seeing as Severus
Snape was her last living descendent, and his family was killed by his
hand. Ouuu, those days had been so much fun, before Snape decided to go
traitor. It was still fun now a days, tormenting Severus by forcing him
to kill when he didn't want to, and feeding him false information for
Dumbledore to lose trust in him with.
Ah, messing with peoples' minds was just so much _fun_!
He made a note to himself to track down his old friend and ask if he'd
done anything interesting lately. Daemen had always been able to come
up with such _intriguing_ torture methods. Heh, he'd even call them
training and force younger wizards through them. If you weren't strong
enough, you failed, and therefore, you were dead.
Hmmm, maybe he should run his death eaters through a few of those
tortures.
With that happy thought on his mind, he moved onto his next patient.
Victim, really. He had to hold back tears of joy as her mercilessly
killed yet another stupid muggle.
---
Things had gone from sugar to shit, Harry reflected bitterly.
Stupid Ron, why did _he_ have to be the one to track them down? The
youngest of the male Weasleys had burst into the clearing, skidding to
a halt and looking around frantically. At the sight of his sister in
what could only be considered under robe clothing, and his "best
friend" wearing little more than a pair of black jeans and an open
black vest without an undershirt...
Well, lets just say he jumped to the wrong conclusion. Completely
ignoring Sirius' presence-- he'd shifted back to human-form when he
realised it was Ron-- the male Weasley stalked over to Potter and
shoved his face into Harry's. He was distracted for a moment by Harry's
piercings, as most wizards preferred not to have anything-- even their
ears!-- pierced, as unless specially treated, the metal of them could
interfere with various higher-end spells. The blue bead decorating his
eyebrow piercing finally stopped being so hypnotizing, and he snarled,
"What the _bloody_ _hell_ do you think you're _doing_?!"
Potter blinked a couple times, "I've no idea what you're talking about,
Ron."
He waved haphazardly in the general direction he figured his sister to
be in, incidently pointing at Draco, and snapped, "Stop playing games!
You've been molesting my sister, haven't you?!"
"No, not really," Harry's eyes lit up and he grinned, "And I don't
think your sister is tall, blonde, sixteen, and male, Ron."
"Huh?" the redhead turned to look in the direction he'd been pointing,
but couldn't see anything. Confused, he turned back to where Harry had
been. Had being the key word, as the green eyed lad had shot off into
the brush, following the examples of Ginny, Sirius, and Draco. The
fuming Weasley grit his teeth, making his hands into fists so tight his
knuckles were white, and his nails cut little half-moons into his
hands.
He could hear, quite clearly, his sister's laughter, accompanied by
another, completely unwelcome, familiar cackle-- Draco Malfoy's.
Harry's voice was suspiciously silent, but Ron didn't care. Still
allowing his temper to control him, he barreled off back into the busy,
beating feet back towards Hogwarts. He was going to _kill_ them!
And that brings us back to Harry's thoughts about sugar to shit.
He was pretty sure that by morning Draco and Ginny would have fluffed
the incident up so much that there would be no way to calm Ron down.
They were probably going to be doing it just to get back at him for not
warning them about the physical transformations they went through.
Hmph, their transformations weren't even all that serious.
Not at all like Weapon's. But that was something to leave for another
time; after he freed his alterego from the bonds of Merlin's Runes.
Dumbass old git. Couldn't have made an easier to read transcript of his
runes, could he?
He probably did, Weapon murmured, it's just not at Hogwarts.
Hush up, I need to figure a way out of this mess, Harry grunted back.
Halloween was three days away. It would be the perfect time to enact
his revenge for what he knew was going to happen... just... what could
he do? He was, for once, drawing a blank for ideas. Not only for the
return-prank, but for calming Ron down. He really didn't want his
former best bud pissed off at him. It would make for some tense
conversations with Hermione.
And 'Mione was, to him, his personal scribe. Friend, too, but scribe
came first. He promised himself that he'd give her a wonderful position
in his New World Order of Balance, once he'd offed Tom and Albus. Hmmm,
maybe he could get Ron back in his good graces by offering him-- and
Arthur, if the elder Weasley deigned not to side with Albus or Tom-- a
good position.
Of course, Harry himself wasn't going to be the ruler. He'd stick Ginny
with that job. Sirius could be general of the army or something. He and
Draco, on the other hand, would be vigilantes. Working not for the
government but for The Balance. Secretly friends with the political
heads, with contacts throughout the underworld.
Hermione would be the High Advisor, if she so wanted to be. Or maybe
she could be a vigilante. Ron, too.
He burst from the Forbidden Forest, still thinking on these things. He
could see Draco and Virginia ahead of him, running backwards to watch
him. He ran through a serious of hand signals, and they nodded. Time to
head back to the dorms.
Sirius would be off to Russia in a couple hours. So Harry paused long
enough to squeeze the life out of his godfather, wish him well, and
tell him to practice while gone.
Ron came out of the Forest only minutes after Sirius had vanished and
Harry had gone back into the castle. Unfortunately for him, Snape was
near the entrance. His attempt to explain that he was following Harry
met deaf ears.
After all, weren't he and Harry best friends? Harry would have been
right there with him if he was _really_ with Harry.
---
End Chapter
And now we have some (more) tension between Ronnikins and Harry-Weapon.
review of In Hiding was helpful. ^____^
Slytherin Punk Chick - Eyebrow rings... I've managed to convince my
over-bearing mother into allowing me to pierce my eyebrow for graduation.
Mind you, two years ago I convinced her to let me get a tattoo for
graduation, as well. So, eyebrow ring and tattoo, only about six months
away. How the hell am I going to wait that long? Well, at least I have my
eight earrings to play with.
Schulyr - Scaring roommates is the best compliment I've gotten in a long
while. Demented fics should have demented laughter with which to terrify
the uninitiated.
I had this awesome idea for what Weapon's transformation was; I just don't
want to say it until I actually get the wards off, just so that everyone
can be surprised. I just love the idea. ^___^
Le Potter et ez fronds belong-ez not tou mademoiselle Itch.
Wolfos and Riddle's stuffed snake Rilos are the Itch's inventions.
No stealing!
---
Blackened Sunrise
Chapter Nineteen: Ruminations
The Itch
---
Ninety-five percent of the time, humans are not suicidal.
Nope, just very, very stupid, Tom Riddle thought with a gleeful cackle,
using his "experimental sciences" to "heal" a seventeen year old
suffering from breast cancer. She was dead in an instant and his
"assistants" joined him in a healthy, megalomaniac laugh. Ah, he loved
being paid to murder muggles.
There was nothing better, in his mind.
Except...
Except killing anyone with an ounce of Heir-blood-- excluding himself,
of course. Besides, he'd already been dead, so it didn't really matter.
In any case, there was only one Heir left alive-- Harry James Potter.
Annoying prat, why couldn't he just _die_ already?!
Of course, no one really knew what Harry was the Heir of, he reflected
with some amusement. Oh yes, there were those rumors about the Potters
being descendants of Godric Gryffindor, but those were just rumors, in
order to protect the real Heirs of Gryffindor-- of whom Tom had wiped
out of existence a good twenty years earlier. He'd wiped out all those
with Slytherin's blood, excluding himself, wiped out all of the
Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff bloodlines. Merlin's bloodline only existed
through to Dumbledore, but he'd killed off Albus' wife, children,
grandchildren, siblings, nephews and nieces and cousins already. The
old man was the last of his line.
He had Morgana Le Fey's bloodline working for him, seeing as Severus
Snape was her last living descendent, and his family was killed by his
hand. Ouuu, those days had been so much fun, before Snape decided to go
traitor. It was still fun now a days, tormenting Severus by forcing him
to kill when he didn't want to, and feeding him false information for
Dumbledore to lose trust in him with.
Ah, messing with peoples' minds was just so much _fun_!
He made a note to himself to track down his old friend and ask if he'd
done anything interesting lately. Daemen had always been able to come
up with such _intriguing_ torture methods. Heh, he'd even call them
training and force younger wizards through them. If you weren't strong
enough, you failed, and therefore, you were dead.
Hmmm, maybe he should run his death eaters through a few of those
tortures.
With that happy thought on his mind, he moved onto his next patient.
Victim, really. He had to hold back tears of joy as her mercilessly
killed yet another stupid muggle.
---
Things had gone from sugar to shit, Harry reflected bitterly.
Stupid Ron, why did _he_ have to be the one to track them down? The
youngest of the male Weasleys had burst into the clearing, skidding to
a halt and looking around frantically. At the sight of his sister in
what could only be considered under robe clothing, and his "best
friend" wearing little more than a pair of black jeans and an open
black vest without an undershirt...
Well, lets just say he jumped to the wrong conclusion. Completely
ignoring Sirius' presence-- he'd shifted back to human-form when he
realised it was Ron-- the male Weasley stalked over to Potter and
shoved his face into Harry's. He was distracted for a moment by Harry's
piercings, as most wizards preferred not to have anything-- even their
ears!-- pierced, as unless specially treated, the metal of them could
interfere with various higher-end spells. The blue bead decorating his
eyebrow piercing finally stopped being so hypnotizing, and he snarled,
"What the _bloody_ _hell_ do you think you're _doing_?!"
Potter blinked a couple times, "I've no idea what you're talking about,
Ron."
He waved haphazardly in the general direction he figured his sister to
be in, incidently pointing at Draco, and snapped, "Stop playing games!
You've been molesting my sister, haven't you?!"
"No, not really," Harry's eyes lit up and he grinned, "And I don't
think your sister is tall, blonde, sixteen, and male, Ron."
"Huh?" the redhead turned to look in the direction he'd been pointing,
but couldn't see anything. Confused, he turned back to where Harry had
been. Had being the key word, as the green eyed lad had shot off into
the brush, following the examples of Ginny, Sirius, and Draco. The
fuming Weasley grit his teeth, making his hands into fists so tight his
knuckles were white, and his nails cut little half-moons into his
hands.
He could hear, quite clearly, his sister's laughter, accompanied by
another, completely unwelcome, familiar cackle-- Draco Malfoy's.
Harry's voice was suspiciously silent, but Ron didn't care. Still
allowing his temper to control him, he barreled off back into the busy,
beating feet back towards Hogwarts. He was going to _kill_ them!
And that brings us back to Harry's thoughts about sugar to shit.
He was pretty sure that by morning Draco and Ginny would have fluffed
the incident up so much that there would be no way to calm Ron down.
They were probably going to be doing it just to get back at him for not
warning them about the physical transformations they went through.
Hmph, their transformations weren't even all that serious.
Not at all like Weapon's. But that was something to leave for another
time; after he freed his alterego from the bonds of Merlin's Runes.
Dumbass old git. Couldn't have made an easier to read transcript of his
runes, could he?
He probably did, Weapon murmured, it's just not at Hogwarts.
Hush up, I need to figure a way out of this mess, Harry grunted back.
Halloween was three days away. It would be the perfect time to enact
his revenge for what he knew was going to happen... just... what could
he do? He was, for once, drawing a blank for ideas. Not only for the
return-prank, but for calming Ron down. He really didn't want his
former best bud pissed off at him. It would make for some tense
conversations with Hermione.
And 'Mione was, to him, his personal scribe. Friend, too, but scribe
came first. He promised himself that he'd give her a wonderful position
in his New World Order of Balance, once he'd offed Tom and Albus. Hmmm,
maybe he could get Ron back in his good graces by offering him-- and
Arthur, if the elder Weasley deigned not to side with Albus or Tom-- a
good position.
Of course, Harry himself wasn't going to be the ruler. He'd stick Ginny
with that job. Sirius could be general of the army or something. He and
Draco, on the other hand, would be vigilantes. Working not for the
government but for The Balance. Secretly friends with the political
heads, with contacts throughout the underworld.
Hermione would be the High Advisor, if she so wanted to be. Or maybe
she could be a vigilante. Ron, too.
He burst from the Forbidden Forest, still thinking on these things. He
could see Draco and Virginia ahead of him, running backwards to watch
him. He ran through a serious of hand signals, and they nodded. Time to
head back to the dorms.
Sirius would be off to Russia in a couple hours. So Harry paused long
enough to squeeze the life out of his godfather, wish him well, and
tell him to practice while gone.
Ron came out of the Forest only minutes after Sirius had vanished and
Harry had gone back into the castle. Unfortunately for him, Snape was
near the entrance. His attempt to explain that he was following Harry
met deaf ears.
After all, weren't he and Harry best friends? Harry would have been
right there with him if he was _really_ with Harry.
---
End Chapter
And now we have some (more) tension between Ronnikins and Harry-Weapon.