DISCLAIMER: HARRY POTTER does not belong to me. Sadly. -I'll go cry now-
SORRY! I had forgotten to add this disclaimer in as well, just in case:
Disclaimer- I do not own Blink182. Anything used of theirs within this story is simply fan-made. duh.
SONG USED - ALL THE SMALL THINGS
This chapter is mostly sap. Warning. It is terribly slow-moving, and I apologize for it. But, no matter how fast I try to make it, the story takes over on its own and I'm in its mercy. ;[
A cold hand slithered into the Death Eater's trembling hand, making it flinch uncomfortably. The hand direly wanted to yank free as the impossibly smooth fingers grasped onto larger ones.
"You know what you must do, Wormtail," a menacing hiss pierced the frightened, stout servant's chest. Tiny digits curled over a space where a pinky used to be. Wormtail grimaced, whimpering pathetically, head bowed, knees aching, bent on the marble floor.
"Y-Ye-Yes..M-M-Master…a-a-a-a-anything f-f-f-f-fffor you," he stuttered, spittle flicking from between his two abnormally large teeth.
The grotesque form slid its cold tips to trace its mark along the man's skin, deserving a much relished shiver of fear vibrating through his touch. The tattoo squirmed and writhed achingly, wanting to be used by its Master, and now.
"Patience, my love," the creature hissed lovingly, speaking in a tongue recognizable only by sound to the servant's ears. The mark swirled fondly along the small finger pressed against it, almost sensually. Thin strips of grey flesh pulled back to reveal a row of stained, sharp teeth.
Even in this form he held power. Much power. But not enough. Never enough. The magically inked snake felt its Lord quiver in resentment and flickered a tongue around the probing pointer affectionately. Voldemort closed his eyes in content, finding solice with his own mark.
"Go now, Wormtail. Do not fail me this time." The hand retreated and the form shrunk back into its overly large robes.
His servant leaned back on his heels, head still bowed, lifted himself from the floor with a grunt. "Y-yes, My Lord. I-I will have h-h-his blood in my p-p-ossession wh-when I return." And he was off, scampering down the stairs, turning on the spot right out the door, and disappearing with a sounding crack!
"ALL THE! SMALL THINGS! TRUE CARE! TRUTH BRINGS!" Harry air-guitared with his wand which produced a thrum of offkey beats, his tie undone and swinging while his head headbanged to the imaginary music thrumming in his memory, jumping on the bed as he sang, err shouted, away. Greg and Fred bounced in time on the bed along with him, the twins playing the drums and bass with their wands. Ron, Seamus, and Neville remained on the floor, hooting and hollering, jumping and dancing, fists pounding into the air.
"I'LL TAKE! ONE LIFT! YOUR RIDE! BEST TRIP! ALWAYS! I KNOW!" Harry's voice cracked, but he raged on, roaring even louder, throat straining with the pressure. "YOU'LL BE AT MY SHOW! WATCHING! WAITING! COMMISERATING!" He crowed, fingers dancing on unseen strings of his wand-guitar. "EVERYONE!"
"SAY IT AIN'T SO! I WILL NOT GO! TURN THE LIGHTS OFF! CARRY ME HOME!" the boy's dorm chorused, the walls shaking with the voices not even sonorused. And like some punk rock concert, they all jumped in place all at the same time.
"NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA! NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA! NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA! NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA!"
The boys continued the song that Harry had just introduced them to. He had found about it during his rabid attempts of surfing the internet when Mr. Weasley had wanted to know what a 'laptop' could do and became very interested in 'the web', probably thinking it some kind of spider science thing or whatever. This was when he was already betrothed to Ginerva, and Albus was on the way. Now, he was very intrigued to share this song, and rock the day away with his friends.
Yes. Smile and be happy. Forget whatever happened last night.
The song came to a finale, Harry jumping up one last time and landing on his back, gut in pain from laughing, head throbbing from singing so loudly. The boys decided then to take a walk around the castle and seek for potential interests that they could aim for the next school year. Of course, most of this idea branched from the twins.
Ron immediately went in search for the horde of Beauxbatons', Hermione and Ginny joining them soon after he left.
The day drifted by quickly, too quickly for Harry's taste. During breakfast and lunch, he sat next to Ginny instead of in front of her, needing to feel her closeness instead of just staring at it. Their hands only left each other's when he had returned back to the boys' dormitory in pursuit of rocking with his friends, or when she had wanted to chat with fellow Gryffindors about Quidditch and randomly pull Hermione to the side. Harry could only guess what the two were talking about.
The time came for the schools to leave, much to Hermione's exuberant sigh of relief, even though Krum offered her a piece of parchment. She casually smiled, nodding, and Harry found traces in that twitching lips of his friend that she was not at all interested. He kissed her hand and followed the crowd of his fellow students back to their ship, once or twice looking back to offer Hermione a coy smile and a wave.
Ron had been kissed on the cheek by the girl of his dreams and stood their gawking, stuttering, Fleur Delacour grinning broadly and spinning in a flourish, pulling her littler sister along with her, babbling away in a language neither boys could grasp a hold on. The girl's melodious voice only caused Ron to make a ridiculous face of fascination. Harry had to stifle a laugh.
Before long, the three made their way to a small balcony, other students milling around to watch the schools disappear either in water or into the sky. Voices cried out their farewells, both genders alike: girls to the Durmstrangs, boys to the Beauxbatons.
Harry grinned, Hermione slipping her hands into both of the boys' grips, squeezing.
"Just another day, huh?"
Ron smirked, his face red, probably because of the hand holding his. Harry turned to his friend, eyes alight. "Just another day, Hermione."
She smiled, her big brown eyes lighting up. She seemed so different, more innocent than how Harry remembered her in his future. Then, she had gone through so much, death and despair all around the three of them. He turned to Ron who was staring at the two of them, brow raised. Harry chuckled, and reached over with his free hand to roughly mess up the red hair.
"Oye!"
Hermione burst with laughter then, Harry joining in, Ron shaking his head, but a most clear sign of his lips turning upward.
This is it. No hurt or pain.
The old man was fidgeting behind his desk, eyes surveying him like some piece of meat. He might as well be, the way he was pushed to most of his limits in this game of his. Finally, grey eyes lowered themselves onto the table where wiry fingers twisted among themselves.
It was a while longer before a coarse whisper played across the man's lips. "My boy, this is very grave news indeed."
Snape moved, slouching slightly into the chair, one leg sticking out, hands clasped over his thighs, head lolled to one side. "You did say, Headmaster, to 'drill the boy'." His words drawled, unsurprising.
Silvery hair bobbed as Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, yes, I did." He pulled his hands back, taking them off the table to place them on his knees, gripping. "He will fight back." Snape knew this. "It is a possibility that he will not come tonight." Snape also knew this. "And, if we are right in our assumption, he will know what to do next."
Here, Snape had difficulty mapping out his actions. Because, it was merely an 'assumption', he could not very well act on it. He needed proof. However, if what they had been dawdling on became a fact, Headmaster and Potion's Professor alike would be taking on, quite literally, the future.
Of course, said factor being Harry bloody Potter, the stakes were very high on being accurate. Snape slowly began to speak.
"If, and I do not know how much of an emphasis I need to stress on that word, IF, by some dark incantation or otherwise inconclusive magic Potter has managed to manipulate time without bringing his future self along with him, instead implanting himself in his would-be younger form, by which I must again stress that is highly improbable and most likely one of the best ways to land oneself into Azkaban for being one of the Darkest magic clearly equal to the Dark Lord himself, how do you suggest we approach this topic to the boy himself?"
Dumbledore remained silent, eyes unmoving on his twining fingers. Snape continued. "What makes you so sure that Potter is, as you say he is, from the future? Could it not be a happening akin to Sybill's ability of the-"
"I have already digressed into that sort of situation," the old man's words cut through Snape's sentence. He pursed his lips to silence himself. The Headmaster kept on, frozen in his position. "It was one of my first guesses, my boy, and it quickly became just that, a guess, as what I found later might even turn your bones into rubble." Grey eyes finally flickered up to meet a black stare which abruptly faltered.
Snape gripped the edges of the chair, knuckles turning white. He had taken that as a challenge. Damn Dumbledore for knowing his weaknesses. Well, most of them anyway. "Show me."
Dumbledore peered over his glasses. "Very well."
Harry picked away at the food on his plate. Neither Dumbledore nor Snape were seated at the Head Table. This agitated him more than anything. It narrowed down to one reason: Snape had shared everything to the Headmaster, and being as highly knowledgeable as he, Dumbledore was narrowing down the facts pronto.
There was a light grip in his left hand and Harry turned to meet bright brown eyes, eyes that showed so much emotion Harry could lose himself in them. "S'nothin', love." Ginny nibbled on her bottom lip, pouring Harry over the edge, having to hold himself back from ravishing her then and there.
He had to remind himself that he was no longer a grown man, married, and caring for children. No. He could not hold Ginny as how he so wanted to at this moment. Instead, he leaned in and kissed her lightly on her soft cheek, his breath brushing at stray red strands.
She stilled under his touch, her breath matching his, pulse equally falling into rhythm. They stayed that way, Harry's temple gently resting against red, Ginny's nestled in a muss of brown. Green orbs lidded heavily, the blinking reflections of candlelight dulling away his senses, and the lush smell of vanilla and sweat. That sweet reminder of his beloved slamming hard into his chest, so rabid, so forceful, Harry had to once again regain control of his ever ravaging mind.
"Ahem."
Harry blinked, ruefully pulling away from his sacred home. Everyone was staring at them. Blushing, Ginny fidgeted beside him, a small wave of tension caught in the drift of embarrassment. Harry smirked, though, he too held color in his cheeks.
Hermione simply looked away. Ron had his arms crossed, one brow arched. The twins were mimicking the two love birds; Fred leaned on George's shoulder, their eyes finding each other's, sighing in content. Fred threaded his fingers into his twin's, who reacted by pulling him close.
Both Harry and Ron blanched, leaning over the side of the table to make a scene of throwing up. The girls laughed, egging the boys on, Hermione not so much.
Dinner continued in a more delightful manner, both red head and time wizard catching furtive glances, throwing coy smiles at each time, a slight squeeze of a hand to ensure that smile. Ron caught some of these and simply groaned, murmuring something about lovesickness and all that mushy stuff.
"Should be bloody limited," he had once grumbled out amongst shoving his mouth stock full with random pieces of various pies that now littered the table. Harry had only chuckled, shaking his head. Their hands were getting sweaty.
Sweat. Oh, shit. Bad thought. Go away. Go away now.
To make matters worse, Ginny wriggled her fingers, probably wanting to flex them. It caused an unwanted reaction below Harry's belt. Gawds, the girl had no idea how much of a turn on she was to him. Everything. Every bloody thing about her was just…
Fuck.
His red-head beauty turned to him, brows drawn together. "What's wrong?"
Harry cursed himself. He just had to groan out loud. "N-nothing."
"'Ee's gawt dat batty git lattah dis evenin'," Ron spoke up, food unnecessarily sputtering out of his jam-packed mouth. Hermione gave him a sound one on the shoulder, earning more spittle to come forth as the red head bloke argued against her brutality.
"No, mate. Don't think there's going to be a, err, lesson…tonight." Harry nodded up at the staff's table, Professor McGonagall just in time to turn her head and meet his eyes. He immediately dropped his gaze to the plate in front of him, free hand scratching his neck.
There was a light gasp on his right. "Both of them?" came Hermione's concerned whisper.
Harry only nodded, eyes rooted to his empty plate. Ron made a scoffing noise. More like attempted to; while pigging out, the 'scoffing' came out more of a guttural intake of breath. "Can't beleef Dumbledorrs sho trushtworthy ov' dat bat. Honeestly, 'ee's wun I would nevar twust."
"Harry, there's a lot of things I know you're keeping me out of the loop of, but," Ginny's ringing voice purred lightly into his ears, deserving all of his attention. "But, whatever is going on, I'm here for you. All right? I…" she looked away, tucking a lock of red behind her ear. "I, well, yeah…"
The Boy Who Lived merely clutched her hand, knowing full well the meanings behind her actions. "I know." She turned to him, face the color of beets, a small quirk of her lips making his turn upward.
"Good," she replied, mouth grinning in response to his smile.
Harry was damn well the luckiest person alive.
The fireplace flickered as usual, the cackling sound drifting Harry slowly into a peaceful state. He fought to keep his eyes open. A small parchment lay crumpled in his right palm, dangerously teetering on the edge of falling through his fingertips.
Green eyes glistened gold and dark emerald, heavily lidded. It was well pass midnight; the common room completely empty except for him. He had found the letter waiting for him in Snape's class, a hastily scribbled note that read:
Lesson is cancelled. Will resume tomorrow night. Do not be late.
What the hell could Dumbledore and Snape be doing? After tonight, they would all be heading home in two days!
Harry had fought with himself for the past two hours about this after bidding Ginny goodnight, holding himself back from snogging the life out of her. They had not kissed since that night. No, he would wait until he deemed himself controlled enough for such a feat. Instead, he offered light kisses on her forehead or cheeks, on occasion, hair.
When his friends had disappeared behind closed doors after his tellings of what happened the night before and the letter which waited for him at Snape's office, he found himself staring at the fireplace, a habit he grew after Ginny's…
Well, she's not dead anymore, now is she?
But, old habits die hard.
Sighing, his chest rising and falling with the sound, Harry closed his eyes, finding solace in the warmth the fire brought to his chilled skin. He did not hear the soft footsteps of someone approaching. However, he did feel the couch cave in and hot breath riding down along the nape of his neck.
Jerking upright, Harry realized his glasses had somehow fallen off, the letter no longer in his hand as he pushed himself to level with the one on top of him. Long, silky strands of reflecting red hair graced against his arms, a pale face looking down on him.
Harry caught his breath. "G-Ginny?"
He could barely make out her smile, but he knew she was, her head bowing down and kissing him square on the lips, light and feathery at first. Then, with much reluctance and overpowered will, Harry crushed their lips roughly together, Ginny responding with the most beautiful sound; moaning in pleasure and need.
That became Harry's undoing, his lips wantonly lavishing hers, tongue licking, begging for entrance and she obliged. His arms automatically went around her waist, coaxing her down onto his body, and she moved, arms snaking behind his neck.
Oh, the ache that was in Harry's gut now. He bucked into her, and she cried out, not too loud, but just enough for Harry to do it again and again. He arched his neck back, groaning, greeted by a nip and suckle to his now exposed neck. "Ginny-" he whispered, fearing the loss of his voice.
"Yes?" she whispered back, continuing her exploration of the boy's collarbone. He bucked a few more times, shocked when she straddled him and pushed his body down into the couch and kissed him with such passion, such force, Harry was driven over the edge and felt the most excruciating, delightful, blissful moment of all for the past four years since his lovers death: release.
He came into his underwear, feeling the wetness seep into the material and touch lightly against his thighs. He gripped the wondrous body above him which arched, hands splayed across his chest, head tilted far back, Ginny's face was hidden in darkness.
Then, a cackle rose high in the room, bouncing off the walls with a shrill voice. A voice that would never be forgotten in Harry's memories.
Ginny's face came back into view, no longer Ginny, replaced by none other than Bellatrix Lestrange herself. Her menacing grin of black teeth and haunting murderous eyes bore into him, into his soul, hands wrenching his shirt open, leaving him exposed from waist up.
Harry struggled, yelping, desperately pushing away, but she would not budge. Hands came down on his, gripping them above his head as she held his eyes, head lowering, tongue flicking out to lick a circle in the middle of his chest.
He squirmed anew, breaking their eye contact, screaming now, for Ron, Hermione, Ginny, even at one point hearing himself cry out for Snape. But, it was all too late. Bellatrix lifted her head, her teeth now hideously overgrown, sharp, and she plunged straight into Harry's chest, ripping out his heart. His screams echoed long and wide, crying out for anyone or anything to save him.
A hand came down on his cheek, warm and welcoming, guiding him back into reality. Harry snapped his eyes open, his breathing irregular, his heart, still within his chest, hammered against its cage dangerously close to shattering.
"Harry. Harry. Sshhh, it's ok. Ssshh." He gripped the hand close to his face, body shuddering. His eyes closed, feeling comfort in it, then completely divulged himself in the embrace that soon after wrapped around him.
Ginny's voice soothed him over and over again. Hands smoothed back his fringe, head in her lap, tracing gentle circles on his forehead. Harry curled into her hold, gripping her hands, afraid they would let them go.
Wetness squelched between his legs, and the sickening thought of his dream made present again, and he was up, running into the boy's dormitory, bursting into the washroom and releasing what little dinner he managed to eat.
The Boy Who Lived collapsed against the toilet, crying, kicking at the door, hitting himself in the head. He, Harry James Potter, just had a sex dream with Bellatrix Lestrange. And she had done gone rip out his heart and ate it.
Harry hurriedly scrubbed himself in the shower until he was raw, rinsing his mouth until there was nothing but mouthwash taste. After a good two hours of sanitizing himself back to normal, or as normal as he could make it, he made his way back down, surprised to see Ginerva still there, sitting on the couch, feet up, knees drawn in wrapped with her arms.
Approaching with caution, he shrugged off his jacket and slowly draped it over her shoulders. She looked up, worry etched into that pretty face. Harry gulped down bile, feeling the need to throw up again. "Hey," he croaked.
Her lips twitched. "Hey."
Harry slid next to her, arm slipping around her, bringing that much needed warmth into his hold.
They stayed that way, none feeling the need to sleep until sun began to filter through the windows and the first sounds of fellow Gryffindors waking up. Ginny kissed Harry on the cheek, analyzed him with those soft brown eyes, smiled, and headed off just as Hermione came down the girls dormitory stairs.
Harry heard them exchange a few words, catching Ginny's, "Gonna skip breakfast. I'll see you later, though." The ache in his heart reacted.
Bushy hair came into his vision and Harry slouched, head lolling onto the back of the couch.
"All right, Harry?"
He nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment.
"All right. Going to breakfast then?"
He shook his head.
"Ah. Well, I'll see you later, then."
He nodded, not really knowing, not really caring either, if Hermione saw or not, his eyes fixated on the ceiling as the portrait opened and closed rather sharply.
Great. She's in one of those moods again.
Harry remained in his bed for the majority of the morning, laying down and staring at the top of his four-poster bed. Sleep remained a good distance away. He began thinking of his children; his trouble-making James, his innocent Albus, and little Lily. Beautiful Lily, hardly even breaking into the age of 1.
Harry rolled onto his side, tucking his hands under his head, staring out at the window in the curved position he had himself in. The sun was bright and welcoming, telling little ones to come out and play.
I wonder if they are…
Small teardrops formed on the edges of his eyes, glittering. Stubborn just like their mast, they refused to fall, their weight remaining on the edge of his nose. Closing his eyes, the weight finally drifted away, down to the side of his face.
He recalled what he had once said to his dead mother in his dream. "I'm going to use this life you gave me and protect them all, save them all…die…" And it dawned on him.
Eyes snapped open, and Harry sat up, feeling a new sensation stow about him.
Yes. I'll do just that.
With all his Gryffindor glory, Harry James Potter knew what he was going to do. A grin slowly crept on his face, eyes sparkling with a certain vengeance. The sun gleamed happily on his face.
After all, what's the worse that could happen? Me dying?
Harry laughed. Laughed and laughed. Him dying? That would be just fine. After he got rid of all those damn horcruxes again.
First stop, Dumbledore's office.
A~N:Working on next chapter now. Hopefully will be able to get it up soon.