Ok guys, reviews would be greatly appreciated, even bad ones. Yes-bad ones! This is my first shot at an angsty sort of theme, so please bear with me! I love you all, of course, but I would love you more if you reviewed! smiles shyly while fluttering long lashes over puppy dog eyes You know you want to!
Disclaimer: 'K, don't own any of this, except the plot, which I do rather like.
Read on, my loves!
Masked Ball
The death of Voldemort was a glorious affair. The greatest wizard of all time was defeated by a seventeen-year-old boy. He was not killed with an unforgivable curse, nor was he destroyed in a vicious duel. He was also not brutally, physically murdered. The greatest wizard of all time a.k.a. Lord Voldemort a.k.a. Tom Riddle, was pushed into a lake, where he drowned. The greatest wizard of all time had never learnt to swim.
And that is the reason for the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry's Masked Ball. The seventeen year old boy a.k.a. the young hero a.k.a. Harry Potter, had left that very school just the year before. His friends still attended that school and he was still enrolled, so the young hero was invited to attend the Masked Ball.
No one was told of this decision, except Harry himself. The grand plan was to surprise everyone. Whamo! We have a hero in our midst. Harry was none too pleased with this arrangement. He liked that no one was being told about him being there. What he didn't like was that he would have to rip off his mask while everyone around him stayed safely anonymous. Getting rid of Voldemort was meant to be the end of all the 'our saviour, save us' rubbish. He was meant to be normal again.
Not likely.
On the night of the ball, Harry was presented with sparkling silver robes and a gaudy half-face mask. Professor McGonagall smiled at him as he tried on the mask in the mirror. Snape stood in the corner of the room, a strange expression on his face. Harry frowned at his reflection, but the movement was obscured. He quickly flashed a tight grin and pulled the mask off. Good-byes were said after the plan was reviewed once more.
Once he was hiding out in the prefects' bathroom, which he had been given the password to, Harry tried on the robes with the mask. He looked in the mirror and nearly cried out. He looked like a self-important peacock. Quickly he ripped both mask and robes off and burnt them. After thinking for a moment, he conjured up a long black robe, with flowing sleeves and a high, stiff collar. With it came a simple black half-mask, covered in shiny raven feathers. He quickly put both on with his black suit and turned this way and that, trying to see himself from all angles. Satisfied, he poked his head out the door and looked down the hall on either side. Then he rolled his eyes and stepped out. The Ball had begun two hours earlier. That had been part of the plan. Harry was to make a grand entrance.
Not likely.
Once he'd managed to get into the Great Hall without detection, he sighed. Here were all the people he'd gone to fight Voldemort for. These were the people he'd wanted to protect.
Ron, Hermoine, Ginny, Neville, even the annoying Lavender and Co.
Fred, George, all the young first and second years who hadn't even been alive when Voldemort made his worst mistake.
Even the people he shouldn't have had to protect.
Dumbledore.
Who didn't need protecting anymore.
All of the people standing within these walls. All those who had magic, the witches and wizards who would dare not speak the name of the Dark Wizard who couldn't swim. All of those who were without magic, muggles, who had no knowledge of the great wizard, and therefore no protection.
All of them.
Except the Malfoys.
The Death Eaters didn't deserve protection, they had chosen their path. But the Malfoys, oh, the Malfoys. Every single one was twisted, a servant to the former Dark Lord.
Harry didn't care about the stories he'd heard about the youngest Malfoy. About how he was the only good one out of the lot. About how he had turned away from the family tradition of serving the Dark Lord. He couldn't believe it when he heard people telling about how Draco Malfoy fought alongside the Order to defeat the Death Eaters. He did not believe it when he heard that Draco had tried to convince his father to change sides, for the good of the Order.
He couldn't.
It just wasn't possible.
Especially when the one who had taken the place of Lucious Malfoy at Voldemort's right hand side was Draco Malfoy. The one who had leapt into the lake after his master to try and keep him above water. The only one of the Death Eaters who had stayed once the Dark Lord was dead. The one who had stayed to scrub his arm in the lake, to rid himself of the Mark. The one who had whooped with glee once his Mark disappeared.
The one who-
The one who had marched into the forest, right past Harry, and then stopped when he saw he still had company.
The one who-
The one who had cried out in surprise when he saw who watched him. The one who had screamed at Potter to wait as his enemy flew higher into the sky.
The one who-
The one who had betrayed them all.
Harry shook his head, ridding himself of the memories. Tonight was a night to celebrate, not to dwell on bastards who betray everyone.
He took a step further into the room and laughed. Ron was as noticeable as ever. A masked ball did him no good. He stood at least a head higher than everyone else, (except Hagrid) and his bright red hair stood at odd angles from where the elastic stuck into it. He danced with a sleek beauty, who stood on tiptoe to hear what he said.
His dance partner laughed, then slapped him lightly. "Ron!"
It's Hermoine, Harry realised.
The red head laughed a deep-throated laugh, then said, "No one's meant to know who we are!"
He never used to laugh like that, Harry thought.
He moved even further into the room, nodding and speaking to those around him, trying to fit in. He walked swiftly and lightly, on the balls of his feet. It was something he'd learnt this past year. Standing near Ron and Hermoine, he could hear them whispering.
"I wish Harry were here," Hermoine said quietly.
"He's probably off on another adventure, somewhere much more exciting than here. You know he'd be here if he could, love," Ron added.
Love? Harry thought. Since when!
He took a step to stand beside both Ron and Hermoine.
"May I interrupt?" he asked casually. He saw Ron's eyes narrow through the eye slits of his mask.
"Of course you can," Hermoine said, stepping away from Ron. "He just has to learn to share, that's all," she added.
Harry wrapped one arm around her waist as the music changed. He was quickly pulled along with the crowd as they all did the same dance steps. He was lost to start with, until he got into the rhythm.
Hermoine laughed softly.
"Didn't do so well at lessons, huh?" she asked, her eyes twinkling behind her mask.
"What?" Harry asked, completely confused.
"Oh well, you're not the only one I guess. Ron wanted to totally skip the dance lessons until I physically dragged him to one."
Harry almost laughed. Seeing anyone try to drag Ron would be funny, let alone Hermoine, who didn't even quite come up to his shoulder.
They danced for a few minutes in silence, before Harry decided to speak. He leant down to whisper in Hermoine's ear. She twitched back, surprised, then cautiously leant forward again.
"Hermoine, do you reckon you could whip me up some of that polyjuice potion? The feathers are tickling my nose, and I don't want people yelling at me when I take off my mask," Harry asked casually, yet quietly. He hoped he'd said the right thing.
"I knew my mask was no good, everyone can tell who I am. And polyjuice potion takes a month to-" she stopped talking, and her bottom lip started to quiver.
"H-Ha-Harry?" she whimpered.
"I would've thought that you'd be more excited to see me," he grinned.
Hermoine brought her arms down from Harry's shoulders, took a step back and burst into tears. Ron hurried over. He shoved Harry aside with a glare that even his mask couldn't cover and pulled Hermoine close to him. She wrapped her arms around him and began shaking violently. Ron patted her hair and made shushing sounds.
She pulled her head out of his embrace and pointed at Harry.
"It's Harry!" she sobbed. Harry winced, she'd said it rather loudly. It seemed that no one had heard, so he relaxed.
"What!" Ron cried, twice as loud as Hermoine. He turned and looked at Harry, who quietly said, "The one and only."
Ron gaped at him, before he cautiously loosened his grip on Hermoine, only to step forward and bring Harry into an embrace that squashed them both. Harry squirmed, glad that his best friend was so pleased to see him and enjoying the intimacy, yet uncomfortable because of the effects his friend's slightly muscled body had on his own built one. He would rather not get into a situation like that with his first real friend, who was obviously pleased with the female company he kept.
Ron finally stepped back and Harry saw tears shining in his eyes as well. Harry grinned and reminded them, "This is supposed to be a ball remember? So dance!"
He laughed as Ron flashed one last grin at him and swept Hermoine away. As soon as they were out of sight, the grin fell from his face.
Nice to see them happy, I suppose, he thought. He watched his two friends whiz around the Hall and laughed bitterly.
"That's a sound I would know anywhere," a voice said softly in his ear. Harry tensed but did not turn around. He knew he'd been stupid to let his guard down. Stupid to think he could be safe, even inside Hogwarts, with his best friends. He also knew who had come to torment him. He could feel the familiar body pressing lightly against his back, and suddenly wished he were back in Ron's arms.
At least there was a way to get out of that, he thought.
He suppressed a shiver as a hand ran lightly down his spine. He could feel the delicate fingers even through the thick material of his suit and robe. His once secret lover stepped around him, turning sharply on a well-covered foot to face him. Harry grimaced.
The skin he had once foolishly caressed gleamed under the magical light. With this figure standing before him, he remembered how their liaison had begun.
Lust, he thought disgustedly. Stupid, youthful lust.
Their relationship had been a forced one before they had found solace in one another's silent company. They had fought, trading subtle, and some not so subtle, insults at one another. Each was looking for a weakness in the other's defences, the walls they had put up to protect themselves from society. And each found a weakness in each other in themselves.
He matched the sneer the other wore on his face with one of his own. Both faltered. Harry at last decided to walk past this man whose delicate side only he had seen.
An arm reached out to grab a handful of his robe, while the voice whispered in his ear.
"It might not seem appropriate, but I was hoping that we may be able to renew our relationship. I think it would be good for both of us."
Harry snorted, but the sound stuck in his throat when a hand began running down his arm in the way that he liked so much. He tried to say something, but it came out as a croak. He heard a chuckle, and the hand pulled him closer, a movement that went unnoticed in the crowded Hall.
The heat coming off the body pressed tightly against him was stifling, but the feeling of surprisingly toned flesh was too much an attraction to pass up. Harry breathed deeply and closed his eyes.
Remember who he is! He told himself.
"Don't touch me," Harry said softly.
"Say my name," the voice whispered in his ear. The hand that had been running down his arm began stroking his chest and stomach. He tried to reply, but once again his breath hitched in his throat. His stomach tightened as the pressure laid by the hand intensified. The breathing in his ear got heavier. Suddenly they were knocked, a stray dancer bumping them apart. A chubby girl grinned at them and apologised, before twirling away.
Harry took the opportunity to walk away, twitching his long sleeve out of the other's grasp. He stopped a few metres away and looked back at the man who had first awakened him to his sexuality.
The man slyly grinned underneath his mask, then began muttering a spell that Harry had experienced before. Unfortunately, distance did not affect this one, otherwise he would have run. It had been used many times on him before and on the majority of the occasions he had welcomed it. Sometimes it was late at night, just as he was drifting off to sleep. Other times it had been when the caster was standing right beside him, but not close enough to touch.
He shuddered noticeably when he felt the spell begin to work. Invisible hands ran down his back, only to come back up and slide over his shoulders, where their progress slowed. The hands slowly and ever so gently wove their way down his chest and stomach, not stopping when they came to his belt, but separating and teasingly stroking his inner thighs. He gasped and his knees locked.
I survived Voldemort, only to be brought to my knees by a stupid spell, he sneered at his weak self.
Ok, maybe a not so stupid spell, he added as the hands inched closer to his groin.
He was about to groan when the spell stopped, suddenly. He realised he had thrown his head back, and brought it down sharply, only to feel his neck crack as a complaint of the movement. No one had noticed his strange stance and if they had, they couldn't possibly know what had caused it.
Except one man.
That man walked past him, and snickered at Harry's clenched fists and flushed face.
"Maybe you'll reconsider, Potter?"
At least now he doesn't call me Harry, like he used to when we-, stop! He ordered himself.
Remember who he is.
"Leave me alone, unless you want a repetition of our last meeting," Harry said, seemingly thoughtfully. The face before him wavered somewhat, remembering the last time they had met, and the effect Harry's curse had had on him. Then he smiled and winked behind his mask, a movement that had always seemed so unnatural compared to his usual smirks, and now brought Harry close to the edge of nausea.
Remember who he is!
"Maybe you should visit me later?" With that, and a swirl of his dark robes, Harry's enemy and his once time lover sauntered away.
Remember who he is, Harry said to himself once again.
Severus Snape.
Harry walked around the Hall, dancing with various females, taking care to avoid making contact with any males. Severus's spell earlier had made him sensitive and receptive, but he knew none of the females were going to start his pulse racing. So he should be safe.
Ron and Hermoine made their way over to him, trying to act normally.
Not likely.
Hermoine nearly burst into tears before he'd even spoken a word to her. Ron hugged her and shushed her, calming her down in an almost professional manner. Harry was impressed.
They talked of mostly trivial things, not wanting to give any hints to those around them as to who the tall, dark-haired boy was.
An announcement was made, and the dancers all moved to the sides of the Hall, and four long tables appeared to take their places. Everyone murmured in appreciation at the colourful, yet tasteful decorations. They all surged forward to take their places at the tables, houses not separating them at this meal.
Professor McGonagall stood at the long table, which faced the back of the Hall, and waited for everyone's attention.
She just doesn't have it, Harry decided, seated between Ron and Hermoine.
She doesn't have the presence that Dumbledore had. He sighed. Many a night his thoughts had returned to the former Headmaster of Hogwarts, the closest thing to a fatherly figure he'd had.
McGonagall cleared her throat and looked frustrated when quiet didn't come immediately.
"Silence!"
Most people quieted down, which would have to do for a group so large.
"I hope you're all having a wonderful time. This Ball is to celebrate the defeated of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Freedom and Light once again reign supreme in our world. I'm sure you are all aware that not everything will change for the better overnight. As well as celebrating the end of a time of Darkness, the Ball is to signify the beginning of a new life for everybody and to encourage you all to have hope for the future," McGonagall said. Harry sneered, a look that had become so comfortable on his face the past few months. That line was to be his cue. The amazing Harry Potter was to come to heel at the snap of her fingers.
Just as it's always been. Harry thought bitterly. Well, no Mr. Potter for you tonight. See how you do without me to save your arse.
He sat back to watch McGonagall flick her gaze about the room before thanking everyone for attending the Ball and waving her wand around so that the tables filled with food.
"What do you think that was about?" Hermoine asked Ron, meaning the awkward pause.
"Ah, probably just nothing," he replied as he eyed the food.
Nothing, Harry thought. The word echoed in his mind. Nothing.
Nothing-
Nothing was going to be the same.
Nothing could change what had happened that night.
Nothing-
Nothing could change the look of hate that Malfoy had pasted across his face as Harry stepped out from the darkness into the light. Nothing could change the fact that Malfoy had been by his Master's side when Harry stepped out into the light.
Nothing-
Nothing could change the way he felt right now about everyone.
Nothing-
Nothing- there was nothing he'd like better than to rip the face off the sneering Malfoy. There was nothing he'd like better than to shred his entire being apart.
There was nothing that Malfoy didn't deserve.
Nothing
Nothing – that said it all, didn't it?
Harry almost grinned when his mind turned back to 'normal'. What he thought of as normal anyway. The pessimistic attitude he had developed soon after sneaking out of the school the day following Dumbledore's funeral. Security had been increased of course, but they were so focused on not letting anybody in, that they didn't notice anybody go out.
His rash actions had probably saved a lot of lives. The war had hardly had time to start before Harry finished it. Something Harry should have been proud of, but wasn't.
Oh, I should be so proud that I managed to push some old guy into a lake. Even in his mind his voice dripped with sarcasm. He had so much control over his own life. And the lives of others. Which he could end with a flick of his wrist, he added to himself.
He watched as his friends ate their way through savoury pastries and pudding. Harry looked an eye over the table and snorted in disgust. Everything sitting on the table was there for people who had the time to eat their way through various courses, not to mention the extra energy to actually appreciate the fine flavours. He filled his plate with the simplest of the foods; potato, meat and anything else that would go down quickly and sustain him on his harrowing journey.
But I'm not journeying anymore, he reminded himself. I've reached the foretold destination. Just like that stupid prophecy said.
The prophecy. The prophecies. The quaint little rhymes that had controlled his life. That had led everyone to believe that sweet, darling Harry Potter was to be the saviour. Which of course he had been. Which nobody had seemed to doubt.
Everyone had just assumed that he would be quite happy to put his life on hold and go and save the world. To go and sacrifice himself for those who didn't even believe him when he said that Voldemort was coming back, but still expected him to kill the Dark Lord anyway. To go and win.
What would have happened if I didn't win? He thought. Would they have all been so happy to accept the results then? If I had been blown to pieces? Or would they sing me as a failure to the human race?
He finished eating quickly and leaned comfortably on the table, scanning the Hall. It seemed everyone could go on as normal, no matter what was happening outside of these walls.
If they had been through what I have been through, seen what I have seen, done what I have done, would they still be able to sit there and smile like that?
He looked around again, studying each face that was turned in his direction.
Would any of them?
Hermoine and Ron's conversation was getting louder and more animated beside him. His body almost betrayed him and turned to join the conversation.
How hard these old habits die, he thought ironically. Although he gained control of his body, his mind was a different matter. While looking around and listening to the conversations near him, his mind registered something.
I'm gone.
There was no gap where Harry Potter should be. No quiet spot at the table that he should fill. No friends looking around, trying to meet his eyes. No one lamenting the loss of Harry Potter.
When Cedric had died, there had been quiet, especially when his birthday came around.
But there was nothing for Harry Potter. They were celebrating his victory, yet there was no recognition for the boy that had given up everything for them.
The boy I used to be.
When the tables were finally cleared, Harry had fully realised his mistake. And he fully intended to fix it.
The dancing began again, but at a much more relaxed pace. Everyone had eaten past their bursting point and didn't want to lose the lovely food they'd eaten. Harry detached himself from Hermoine, who had been begging for a dance. He'd shrugged her off, not even bothering with an explanation. He moved smoothly through the Hall, avoiding contact with everyone. It was almost like he wasn't really there.
I am here. I'm real, and I'm alive.
But that can be changed.
He sat on one of the benches that ran around the edges of the Hall, remembering all the torture he'd seen inflicted on innocent people. Most of those could be self-inflicted too. He would know. He'd done it.
He also remembered all the deaths he'd seen. The painful ones, the ones that stretched out over days and days. The ones that you could almost feel, just by looking at the victim. They were the ones that Voldemort liked.
Harry was just tossing up between two of the most recent ones he'd seen and deciding whether they'd be suitable for him when he suddenly felt a weight on his leg. He looked down at his pants and saw the outline of the leather-backed notebook he'd put in his pocket. It was one of Voldemort's books. This one Harry had checked for spells and curses. He didn't want a repeat of the cursed diary.
The book suddenly got very heavy and began to burn against his leg. He pulled out the dog-eared book and stroked the cover. There were some extremely interesting tid-bits in the notebook.
Like-
Harry's head snapped up and his eyes widened. He shoved the book into the pocket of his robes and stood, heading for the door. He almost made it, but was bumped by a tall, blonde-
Malfoy
Betrayer
Traitor
Liar
Malfoy
Former enemy
Former lover
Former Death-Eater
Malfoy
The one who-
The one who had cried on Harry's shoulder and promised he was under someone else's control when he'd tried to kill Dumbledore.
The one who Harry had believed.
The one who had screamed at Harry that he was throwing his life away if he tried to go after Voldemort.
The one who-
The one who Harry had thought he loved. Not lust. Love.
The one who had 'changed' for Harry.
The one who Harry would love to rip limb from limb for his betrayal.
But most of all, the one who had brought out Harry's weakness in his need to be loved.
How Malfoy had used that weakness. He had exploited it to its full extent. Well, Malfoy had a similar weakness, made all the more obvious with both parents dead.
Two can play at that game.
Harry walked straight up to Malfoy, seeing his shocked expression even under the mask. He took two handfuls of the young blonde's robe and pulled him forward sharply, until he could feel soft breath on his lips. He leaned in and whispered in his ear.
"Want to come play, Draco?" Draco stood still, his eyes roaming Harry's, looking for some sort of signal.
Harry gave it to him.
He kept one hand on the robes and let the other slide behind the boy's head. Draco relaxed slightly, bringing his hands up to Harry's hips and settling them there gently, while Harry pulled him closer until their bodies were aligned.
Draco sighed as if in relief, and Harry kissed him softly, the way they'd always started. Draco remembered the movement and sank into the kiss, his head relaxing into Harry's hand, his arms tightening around Harry's waist. Harry continued the kiss, stroking Draco with his tongue, until he felt the blonde's body respond.
Then, Harry tightened the hand that held Draco's head and jerked the hair sharply back until the grey eyes watered.
"I asked you if you wanted to come play, Malfoy," Harry hissed in his face.
Draco stayed silent, staring at disbelief at Harry, not understanding the change. Harry tightened his hand and pulled the hair harder until Draco whimpered. He leaned in, and as if in contrast to his cruel hand, kissed the flushed lips gently, keeping his hold on the silky hair. Draco whimpered again, confused, as Harry continued to kiss him.
He was just submitting when Harry bit him, hard.
Harry could feel his canines cut through the soft flesh of Malfoy's bottom lip and then meet their counterparts on his bottom jaw. He felt the blood trickle down his chin and heard Malfoy yelp. He struggled to get away and Harry let him go, watching as the frightened youth stepped back. Malfoy had blood dripping from the two points that now decorated his bottom lip.
Harry stepped forward and smiled when Malfoy stepped back again.
"I guess you don't want to play, Malfoy?" he asked coyly, licking the blood from his lips. The blonde boy whimpered and stumbled back, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.
Harry grinned, and managed to show all his teeth, including the blood smeared canines. He stalked past Malfoy and reached the door he'd been heading towards. Looking back, he surveyed the people inside.
Suddenly, he felt like the roles had been reversed.
Why should I be the one to die?
Laughing, he walked to the nearest bathroom, where he once again pulled out the book.
His reflection caught his attention, and he looked up into the mirror. Bright emerald eyes stared back, haunted and scarred. He snorted and went back to the book.
Leafing through a few pages, Harry realised how far advanced he actually was. He'd managed to get his hands on ancient spell books, full of old and mostly dark magic. Leaving school certainly hadn't halted his education.
He was surprised at the amount of dark magic that he knew, how many of the spells that he recognised as he flipped through more pages.
But there was one spell that he didn't know. He didn't want the exact spell, just the base.
Ah, there it is!
A sly grin spread across his face as he read the spell.
PerfectDisposing of his feathered mask, he thought about what he wanted.
Nothing
Everything
My own lifeEverything that I never got the chance to have before.
He changed the spell to fit his needs, as the one before him had done, and turned to leave. His reflection caught his attention, and he looked up into the mirror. Bright emerald eyes stared back, haunted and scarred.
And soulless.
Muttering a few basic spells as he headed towards the Hall, Harry swept back his hair and lightly flicked at his forehead, making his scar show out bright against the unmarked skin. He was still just seventeen, allowed to dabble in dramatics.
The fog he'd sent ahead of him rolled into the Hall, where students turned and pointed to it, laughing.
This made Harry snicker.
You won't be laughing for long.
Suddenly the spelled roof of the Hall clouded over, covering the stars that were shining brightly for this special night. Thunder began rumbling and lightning flickered across the dark expanse. A breeze began blowing, pulling at the flowing robes and picking at the elegant hairstyles.
Some of the students began to look worried and clung together, gooseflesh invading their arms. The professors looked about and came to stand at the front of the Hall.
It was then that Harry entered.
His robes blew out behind him, the edges flapping in the wind. His hair was flicked out of his face, his scar showing vividly against his pale face. Students gasped, then began to relax, as did the professors, their backs unconsciously slouching.
Harry laughed loudly.
"Don't get too cozy," he commanded, his voice echoing. Some of the students giggled, thinking it was a game. Harry glared at them, his green eyes glowing feverishly.
"Now Mr Potter, whatever would you be doing here?" Snape asked mockingly. Harry laughed again, more bitterness in this sound. He took a graceful step forward and was pleased to see some students retreat.
"I think that the reign of freedom and Light has gone on for too long," he answered quietly. Every person in the room was silent, the only sounds those of the storm overhead.
"Mr Potter, what are you talking about?" McGonagall this time, taking on her superior tone.
"The reign of the Dark Lord was cut short. He was just reaping the benefits of years spent instilling fear into the minds of fools like you. We can't let that go to waste now, can we?" Harry smiled savagely at them.
"Don't-"
"Shut up Snape," Harry growled at him.
"Pott-"
"Speak another word and you shall know the consequences!"
"Don't-" Harry hissed as Snape ignored his warning, "be stupid. Stop these theatrics and behave in a more appropriate manner," Snape scolded.
Harry clenched his teeth and sneered at Snape before slowly and casually raising his wand in a way that no one thought to stop him.
"Crucio," he whispered, throwing his head back and laughing when Snape dropped to floor and began screaming and writhing in pain.
It was then that everyone realised he was serious. Screams echoed through the Hall and frightened whispers floated between groups of students. People pushed and shoved, trying to get closer to the exit, then realising Harry was blocking the way.
Hermoine's anguished wail cut through the noise, mingling with Snape's screams of pain. She ran forward, through a space that opened up in front of her, then closed as she moved past it.
Harry looked up and smiled unnaturally at her, his teeth clenched. He raised his wand from Snape and broke off the spell, his bright eyes flashing at the professor's pain.
"Harry, what are you doing!" Hermoine yelled at him, running forward to meet him.
"You never struck me as a stupid girl Ms Granger, surely you can figure it out," he replied coldly. Hermoine flinched when he called her by her last name, but still continued, fear making her stubborn.
"Stop it. Just stop it! Look at what you're doing! You're scaring everyone, Harry," she began hysterically, rattling off words as soon as they came into her head.
"You're doing exactly what Voldemort did! Harry, you just killed him, for a good reason! He murdered your parents Harry. He liked hurting people! Don't you think this is how he started out? Stop, before it goes any further!" She began crying in earnest, sobbing loudly as she watched her friend's face harden. She moved forward and tried to hold onto his arm.
Harry looked down at her in disgust and shook her off his arm. She tried to reach out for him again, but he sent her to the ground with a vicious backhand. Ron was struggling through the crowd that had allowed Hermoine through, but refused to part for him. He saw her hit the ground and charged at Harry, anger distorting his features.
"You fucking bastard!" Ron shrieked as he covered the space between Harry and himself.
Harry grinned at the red-head then looked around.
"Nobody believes me, huh? Let's see what I can do to change that," he flicked his wand, quickly disarming the professors who were about to attack. Ron was almost on him, incomprehensible animal sounds coming from his mouth.
When Ron reached his target, Harry side-stepped swiftly and ducked, using his agility to his advantage. Ron wasn't so easily discouraged, and reached out a hand to grab Harry's hair. Harry twisted out of his grasp and kicked out a foot, bringing it in behind Ron's ankles, sending the young man sprawling to the floor. Ron made to get up, but Harry stood over him and kicked him in the stomach twice, before turning around and cursing Hermoine, who had come up behind him. Hermoine started whimpering as her clothes ripped to shreds, her face and arms being laced with scratches in groups of three. She struggled to fight off her invisible tormentor, only to receive worse injuries in the process. She screamed when a group of scratches sprang up on her face, tracing down across her eye. Collapsing to her knees, she covered her face and gave in, curling into a ball and crying out when a well placed cut found its mark.
Ron groaned and tried again to get up and Harry turned around to face him. Ron was muttering and gasping, but Harry ignored him. When Ron tried to curse him, Harry kicked him in the face with a booted foot, watching the blood flow from a thoroughly broken nose.
His attackers taken care of, Harry turned once again to his audience, relishing the fear on their faces.
Accio wands, he thought gleefully, seeing the wands whiz through the air. Hundreds of them clattered at his feet, while their owners looked on, horrified. He eyed the pile thoughtfully, before lighting it with the tip of his own wand. They were too slow to react and the wands went up in flames.
"You disappoint me Professors," Harry began. "A mere boy can walk in here and disarm you all, only to be confronted with a hysterical female and an overprotective teen. What sort of security is that for a school?" He sauntered closer to the group, keeping an eye on Snape, who could apparently do wandless magic.
"P-P-Potter," McGonagall stuttered, eyes wide with shock as Hermoine lay screaming on the ground. Harry noticed her gaze and raised an eyebrow.
"Well? Isn't anybody going to help her?" He gestured to Hermoine while scanning the crowd. No one moved. He snorted, disgusted.
"I can see you are all so wonderfully loyal," he sneered sarcastically.
"Take the curse off her, Potter. Now!" McGonagall had a little more colour in her cheeks, but still looked nervous.
"I can't do anything," Harry smiled, which only increased her nervousness. "They will release her when they are done with her."
Snape gasped and flicked his eyes between Harry and Hermoine, recognising the curse.
"You – you-"
"Yes I did. Nice little charm isn't it? I read it in a book I'd found. Light, fluff reading," Harry added. Snape groaned at the thought of what Granger would have to deal with once the ordeal was over, if she survived at all.
"Even the Dark Lord couldn't summon them," Snape whispered.
"Speaking of the Dark Lord-" Harry laughed. He pointed his wand at the sky and summoned the Dark Mark.
"Morsmordre."
A section of the clouds separated and swirled around itself, gaining a greenish tinge. It formed a large skull, with a snake poking out from the fleshless lips.
Some students screamed, a second year girl fainted. Snape unconsciously gripped his left forearm.Harry laughed.
When it was quieter and the initial shock of seeing the Mark wore off, Harry recited the spell he'd adjusted, still pointing his wand at the sky. The thunder once again began rumbling and the wind shrieked and wailed. A few people raised their gaze and cried out, what they saw frightening them.
The Mark had begun to change. It still held a green tinge, but the snake tongue folded in on itself, and the skull collapsed, leaving a shapeless green cloud floating above them. But then it began to swirl again, stretching out, until it stopped moving and a new Mark hovered above them.
Floating above the heads of the students and Professors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was an eerie green cloud, in the shape of a lightning bolt.
Harry watched the recognition light up the youths' faces, as they tore their gaze from the floating lightning bolt to fix it on the matching one adorning Harry's forehead.
Several pointed and gasped, but most were beyond that. Some just sat down where they were standing and wept. A few more fainted. Others glare at Harry, but quickly wiped the expression from their faces when he looked their way.
Severus Snape screamed when the Mark had completed its morph and held on fiercely to his left arm. His sleeve caught on fire, the flames glowing a matching green to the Mark. He jerked his hand away and the flames stopped, to reveal a lighting bolt burnt into his skin. Over the other side of the Hall the same thing was happening to Malfoy and a few of the older Slytherins.
"You have been summoned," Harry said ominously, "I hope you aren't late."
"Potter, what have you done?" McGonagall asked in a whisper. "We fought so hard for the Light! You won the war. Voldemort is gone. He ruled with fear and pain for so long, but that is finished now!" She was wailing when she finished speaking, tears running down her face.
"I agree, partly," Harry said softly. "He ruled for long, as you said. He was brought down, as you said. But now listen to what I have to say," Harry began hissing as he spoke, his face distorted as he glared at her.
"What goes up must come down. And it did," he straightened, and gazed around the room one last time. "But that doesn't mean it will stay like that for long!"
Harry laughed wildly as his broom flew into the room. He mounted it and waved his wand. All the wall hangings and tablecloths burst into flames, and the newly Marked Death-Eaters started screaming again as their Marks burnt. The Mark floating in the sky glowed brightly, and Harry laughed on.
He hovered above the screaming crowd, watching with satisfaction.
Just one more thing to take care of.
He flew higher and aimed his wand at McGonagall.
"Avada Kedavra," he screamed above the noise. As the green light flashed towards its target, the screaming grew louder. McGonagall hit the floor with a dull thud and Harry whooped as he flew out of the Great Hall. He sailed over the lake and sped on, then once again released the Mark to take its rightful place in the night sky. Below him he heard fresh screams as the celebrations at Hogsmeade were cut short.
An eerie grin spread across his face as the wind blew his hair back.
Everything, Harry thought contentedly as he made his way towards the old Riddle house, where he would meet those he had summoned. They would stay with him whether they wanted to or not, for he had complete control over their lives – and his own.
Again, Harry laughed, something he would do a lot of in the near future, and flew on, towards-
Everything
Ok, so maybe I kinda forgot to mention it is sorta long. Don't shoot me! 'Cuz you know you just wanna press the little button and tell me what you thought of it!
xoxox