A/N: Thanks for the suggestions, but having Hedwig being taken on as an apprentice would complicate things I have in mind for further down the line. So, as boring and perhaps cliché as it is, Harry will be taking on his house, but not as a serious thing to become a politician or some such nonsense, but to help Hedwig.
Harry goes into some detail about Hedwig and Tonks' sexualities in this chapter, as well as lightly mentioning his cruciatused genitals. Now that the more detailed chapters are returning, there will be more things like this. Almost like a stream of thoughts from Harry's head, rather than just observations? I can't really explain it well.
Let me know what you think.
Chapter 34: Aftershocks
"Left optic nerve is showing signs of improvement." The healer intones for the dictation quill. "Sight expected to return in days rather than the original estimation of weeks." The cruciatus has come close to making me lose sight in my left eye forever. Once again, down to sheer luck, I've been spared from this fate.
"Great." I say eagerly as I sit up, taking the shirt from the table beside my bed. "I can go now, right?" With only 5 days left until school, I desperately need to get to Gringotts to ensure that Hedwig isn't whisked away from me. I'll have to head back home first to have a shower and put some decent clothes on. Cruciatus or not, I shan't be walking into Gringotts unkempt. Or more unkempt than usual.
"Oh no, not so fast." The healer, an 86 year old lady named Elsa Van Morris, blocks the doorway, hands on her hips as she glares at me. Hermione does something similar when I've either done something, or am about to do something, stupid.
"You said I could leave once you looked at my eye." I remind her as I push myself up off of the bed. Some people might like spending days in bed, but it's not as fun when it's in a hospital. I sway on my feet a bit and lean on the table for support, although it feels like leaning onto something sharp, Healer Morris won't let me go if she knows. "And you've looked at my eye, it's getting better. I can cope with one eye for a while." I assure her as I retrieve the Elder Wand, from wherever it vanishes to, so I can conjure a walking cane. The wand 'comes' with a sort of other-dimensional wand holster, much like my own, but it doesn't have a physical body to strap to my arm – It just vanishes and reappears when I need it. If it's taken from me without it's ownership changing, I can't summon it back though. "I'm fine." I tell Morris as I lean my left arm onto the cane, applying my customary protections over my feet.
"And what did I say about using magic?" She asks sternly.
"To not overdo it, no heavy lifting and, under no circumstances, should I fight anyone." I recite her earlier words impatiently. She continues to look at me, frowning. "What?" She doesn't budge. "What do you want me to say? That my body still feels like it's on fire? That every movement makes my body cry out in pain? Because it does, OK? But I could either stay in that damned bed and feel sorry for myself, or I can go and get cleaned up so I can feel slightly better about my state whilst I'm butting heads with Goblins who'd rather rob every knut I have rather than help me." My hand involuntarily tightens on cane's handle. I've opted the simplest possible conjuration I could muster. I think it's wood, at least that was the plan. Dead straight, no knots or bumps. The handle comes out as a completely unnatural right angle, curving slightly to fit my hand. A masterpiece, I'm sure.
"Somebody is here to guard you, Minister's orders." Morris says only this before leaving. I shouldn't have been so rude really. I let out a sigh and open the door. This floor isn't a particularly noisy one, as the inmates -er patients – tend to not make as much noise, or they are in rooms to cut the noise off.
"Potter."
"I thought you were retired, Moody." I say to the grizzled man, turning on the spot and walking towards the lift. A soft clunk and tap accompanies every other step for him, whereas I have only the single tap every second step.
"Albus assured Fudge that the Auror department was stretched thin enough as it was." He explains, glaring at a man with a camera as almost takes a step towards us.
"Nothing to do with the old gang?" I ask as we enter the lift. He doesn't answer. "Can you tell me what's being done about them? Or if anyone knows why they did it? It seemed like much more than just some drunken fun. Tonks said that a couple of them were throwing hexes at the Aurors after they set the arena ablaze."
"Aye, they were." He presses the button for the ground floor and the doors slide shut. Both of us have an eye not in working order and a leg that doesn't pull it's weight. Granted his are more permanent, but it's kind of funny. "It's being treated as terrorism, I can tell you that because I'm not an Auror." I lean against the railing inside the lift. "Alright there, Potter? Don't look too sharp."
"You're not exactly the picture of health these days either." I shoot back.
"Hurts, don't it?" He asks, almost rhetorically. I nod.
"Ever felt it?"
"Once, briefly. I don't envy you." He reaches into his coat and takes a swig from his personal flask. I don't blame the man for not drinking things given to him by anyone else. He's definitely made enemies over the years. "You gonna make it to the door?"
"I'll be alright."
"You handled yourself well at the cup." He tells me after a pause. Well? I understand now why Tonks says his praise isn't conventional. "Idiotic, dangerous, brash, and effective. Albus was the same when he was a younger man."
"And Tonks said you weren't much of a talker."
He stays silent for the rest of the walk to my flat.
"Dobby, Fetch Alastor some tea." I say as I limp into my flat with Moody in tow. Stairs don't agree with me. He probably won't drink it, but it gives Dobby something to do.
"Harry Potter sir!" He exclaims as he appears, tea cup in hand. I don't pay his concern any attention as I close the door of my bedroom, falling face first onto the bed, leaving the cane to clatter onto the floor beside the bed. Why didn't I just kill them? It would've been so much simpler and easier. Replace stunning hexes for cutting or blasting hexes. Have the stone knights stab rather than cut, or put a bit more force into the cuts to spill their miserable guts onto the floor. I turn my head so my nose isn't squished, allowing me to breath again. They would deserve no less for those that they have tortured or the children they've killed. I roll over and sit up again to undress.
Hedwig and Tonks have both been back this morning. I'd told Hedwig to meet me at the bank for 10AM after she offered to buy my books for me, the list had only been given to us last night. I hadn't seen her when we walked here, but with the notice-me-not charms quickly waning, I didn't look thoroughly. I dump my clothes onto the floor as I amble into then bathroom. Dobby was in here earlier to clean it after the girls had used the shower, not at the same time unfortunately. I hiss angrily as the water hits my back. I lower myself to the floor of the bath/shower combo and allow the water to pour onto my scalp. I tilt my head up a bit to watch Tonks wash, slightly more showily than is strictly necessary. I close my eyes and listen to Tonks' patchy shower-rendition of The Weird Sisters' "Do the Hippogriff".
I clench my jaw as another hit of pain introduces itself in the pit of my stomach. As if I'd needed anything more to remind me what a shitty few days it's been – An erection feels like being kicked in the balls. The torture curse. Very apt. I think this is what the 'two-brick' castration method must feel like. Maybe I could replicate the effect in a curse. I'll have to talk to Tonks about it eventually though. Not being castrated, but sex. I don't know if her feelings for me stretch that far, or if she is content to carry on how we are now. The thought has crossed my mind to just let it play out and see where things go, but if she doesn't want to push me, and I don't want to push her, then nothing will ever happen. I've noticed that she tenses up when my hands stray to her thighs and wrists, but she's never said anything to me. I know that things happened to her during her earlier years at Hogwarts, it's why she tends to good-heartedly steer conversations away from past boyfriends and onto the illustrious Hestia Jones. Hufflepuff, 2 years older than Tonks.
I've often wondered if a person can be completely bisexual, granted my experience with such individuals is limited, but they tend to steer one way more than the other. Hedwig is a lesbian, almost nothing to argue against it, but I am an exception to it because, in her words, my own narcissism imprinted onto her profoundly enough. It's not bad as theories go. Tonks, however, is an exception to my earlier theory on bisexual people. She jokes that she is somewhere between male and female, so it's not that she is gay for either, but straight because she is a third gender. I think she just uses it as a convenient excuse to make dirty jokes about 'being between the two genders'.
I bring the elder wand up to my throat and cast another nerve soothing charm. I let out a sigh of satisfaction as the water no longer feels like spikes. Why didn't I do this earlier?
Healthy reapplications of the charm speeds up the process of showering and makes getting dressed not feel like sandpaper being drags against my skin. Moody is sitting at the kitchen table reading the Daily Prophet, the tea is untouched.
"Wait until I tell Tonks you were reading the paper at our kitchen table." I smirk, feeling in much higher spirits. "She'll probably fall over from laughing."
"Doesn't need the laughing for that, lad." He says grumpily, climbing to his feet. "I'd imagined Nymphadora to live in a pigsty." He casts his eyes over the room. "Spose that bloody elf of yours is to thank?"
"Mostly." I nod. "I think she's developed a habit of leaving things around so Dobby has something to do."
"That why her clothes are in your room?" Did he just make a joke? I smile before downing the luke-warm tea.
"You won't tell anyone, will you?" I set the mug down and conjure a slightly better looking cane. McGonagall would have my head if she'd seen the abysmal first iteration. Moody looks at me searchingly for a while.
"All I saw is some clothes left about by your elf." He grunts.
"Cheers, Moody."
"Not about to put the career of one of the finest Aurors the Corps has seen in decades in jeopardy." He explains as we head down the stairs. Tonks'll probably get over being mortified about Moody knowing about us once I tell her what he said.
We find Hedwig sitting on the steps on Gringotts, with a Flourish and Blotts hessian bag, beside a very stressed looking Draco Malfoy. She catches sight of Moody and looks a bit surprised, but shakes it off and hugs me gently, but quickly realises that my self-applied healing charms have done a lot of good, this prompts a, much needed, squeezing hug.
"Ah, still a bit tender." She quickly lets up on the hug a bit. "How's the ol' boy been?" I ask her, directing our joint thoughts to Draco.
"Polite. He's upset that you might blame him I think." She tells me, letting go of my hand to pick up the bag again. Draco is warily eyeing Moody, who is giving him an icy glare with his normal eye. I clear my throat and they break their exchange. Draco straightens up and looks at me, eyes flicking to the cane for a moment.
"I didn't know anything was going to happen." He explains, looking around the area before stepping close to me. "Father told me to go to one of the portkey areas with Mother straight after the game, I thought nothing of it." Explains why he was looking so intently at the map at the game. He looks as sincere and worried as I've ever seen him. Maybe less worried than when we were in the Forbidden Forest in our first year. Only a smidge. "I was at the manor the day after the game when Mother comes through the floo and tells me that Father has been attacked, I only found out why and who when Crabbe writes to me-"
"Wait." I interrupt him. "Vincent can write?"
"I know, stunned me for a moment. I don't think he's ever written anything that wasn't homework... if you can call than dribble work." He sneers. "You're not … mad at me?"
"For being born to the wrong person? Nah." I wave my hand dismissively. "Truth is, I'm actually worried about you living with him after what happened. Look, I've got an appointment to keep, but if anything happens, call for Dobby. He can pull out past just about any wards. I've put too much work into converting you to my side." I joke. He smiles and nods.
"Thank you."
"Now, get out of here – Can't been seen talking to me, can you?" I smirk as he tries not to laugh whilst walking away. "Right, Moody. You can't actually come into the meeting..."
"I'll keep an eye on things out here." He says reluctantly.
"No safer place than Gringotts." I shrug. Damn it. I really should stop thinking such prophetic and ambiguous thoughts.
A/N: I'd debated over increasing the length of this chapter, or putting it out like this. Part of me feels that roughly 2000 words as done me fine for all this time, but i'm wondering if you, the readers, wish for longer chapters? This, of course, means that it may take longer between updates.
Disclaimer: Harry's shower thoughts on bisexuality do not reflect my own.
There is a chance that i will change my mind again about the Lordy lord thing, but we'll see.
Thoughts and suggestions are greatly appreciated; Enjoy!