So sorry! I was so busy in the last few weeks that I barely had a chance to simply sit down and write out the next chapter. Luckily, I managed force myself to write on Friday until something relatively decent came out.
Not much happens in the chapter but there are a couple of important scenes involving Harry and Evan. The chapter ultimately acts as a set up for the incoming chapters so I hope you all will be patient with me.
Thanks to Roheryn's Knight for her awesome work!
Hope you all enjoy!
Chapter Thirteen: Fire
Friday, 7 March 1997
Evan stood stiffly by the windowsill, letter in one hand and wand clutched tightly in the other. His mouth was pressed into a fine white line of disapproval and anxiety and his violet eyes flashed with rage, the intensity of his emotions causing the edges of the parchment to violently smoke.
He had received the letter not too long ago from his Lord. Harry was captured and taken into Hogwarts under Dumbledore's rule. Harry, a crafter and a wizard well beyond most, had been stolen from right underneath his nose with a single spell from some incompetent auror. His greatest possession was gone and before long, Harry would grow soft for molding and he would learn the unfavorable truths Evan had neglected to mention.
"What are you doing up so early?" a sleepy voice called out.
Evan turned his head slightly to the right to catch a glimpse of the speaker. The woman was draped in the heavy silk covers, her long blond hair spread out haphazardly over the pillow. Eyes lidded, she sent him a flirtatious smile, pulling back the sheet to expose the empty side of the bed.
"Come back to bed, love," she purred. "I am cold without you."
This time, Evan could feel no spark of arousal or excitement inside of him. He turned his head from the prostitute and focused his attention back toward the window. The letter was still smoking in his hand but he could not help but let it burn.
Let it burn, Evan thought viciously, And let it be a warning to the Light that they shall burn for taking what is mine.
Harry woke up early in the morning. His head buzzing and vision blurred from exhaustion, he stumbled over the carpeted floor and into the modest bathroom, rubbing grit from the corners of his eyes.
Despite the tiredness brought by the madness last night, sleep had evaded him like smoke in the wind. Harry tossed and turned, cursing the world and everything in general as he fought to get even an hour of rest. The webs did not pause in their relentless chant, pulling and tugging at Harry's magic toward Merlin knows where.
Harry spent one day in Hogwarts and it was one day too many.
Flicking on the light in the bathroom, Harry blindly swiped one of the provided toothbrushes and turned the faucet on. Smearing toothpaste on the provided toothbrush, Harry stuck the bristles into his mouth and stared straight into the mirror. His hair stuck a good three inches from his head, defying a completely new kind of gravity as usual. The markings on his face stood out starkly next to his pale skin, his eyes sunken from stress and sleep deprivation.
"My!" a cheery voice said. "You look like a fright!"
Harry nearly choked on his toothpaste before he remembered that most magical buildings had talking mirrors. Wonderful, it was just what he needed.
"Sorry," he grumbled unapologetically, futilely using his hand to try and flatten his wild bed hair.
"Why don't you use a hair charm?" the mirror asked. "I know a couple if you don't. Guaranteed to flatten that ghastly hair of yours!"
Harry frowned at the mirror. "That's okay, I don't need it," he mumbled around his toothbrush before leaning down to spit into the sink.
"Nonsense. You've got a pretty face on you but you must do something with that hair. And try getting more sleep, dear, you look like death just warmed over."
Irritation flooded Harry. "I said no," he growled before stomping from the room.
"Well isn't someone in a chipper mood today!" the mirror sang from the bathroom.
Slamming the door, Harry stormed through his bedroom and into the main room to open the door to the refrigerator roughly. Grabbing another bottle of butterbeer, he swallowed a mouthful of the sweet liquid and turned so that he could see his wand lying innocently on the bedside table.
The damned wand. Evan was right. He always was right. Harry needed to learn wand magic if he was going to survive. No one at the school could know he was a crafter—it would be too easy to connect the dots and link him to Lord Voldemort.
Unconsciously touching the amulet that hung around his neck, Harry snatched the wand and tucked it into the leather holster strapped around his arm. With an empty stomach and throbbing headache, Harry stormed out of his rooms and slammed the portrait door close.
Letting out a long breath, Harry pressed his palm flat against the wall of the castle and closed his eyes. His body relaxed as Hogwarts' magic flooded through him, caressing him with sweet words and soft touches. The magic called out him like a siren's song, singing softly and trying to convince Harry to join the wards.
With enormous effort, Harry wrenched his hand from the wall just as the smell of burning flesh was wafting into his nose. Grimacing at the reopened wounds on his left hand, Harry sent more magic toward the burnt flesh with a grunt of pain. Like the day before, the burns only healed minimally, leaving peeled skin and painful scabs behind.
Something called in the distance and Harry's head snapped up. Ears twitching, he drew his magic around him defensively, crouching closer to the wall in preparation as the sound of singing grew closer and closer.
With a burst of flames, the same phoenix that had been in Dumbledore's office flashed into the hallway, its red and orange wings flapping majestically as it glided down to land on Harry's shoulder.
Harry relaxed as he felt the heavy talons close down on his shoulder. "Hello Fire One," he whispered.
Fawkes chirruped as he leaned forward, cocking his head to the side and blinking furiously before tears began to fall. Harry watched in fascination as they fell onto his injured hand, leaving only pale, pink skin behind. Shaking his hand of the residue tears, Harry brought it up close to his face in fascination. The pain and scarring had practically disappeared.
"Thank you, Fawkes," he murmured, reaching up to scratch under the phoenix's head.
Fawkes preened before opening his beak and letting out a soft warble.
Harry frowned, trying to make sense of the phoenix.
The bird chirruped again before launching off of Harry's shoulder and swooping down in a sudden movement. Harry gave a shout, moving backwards as large wings buffeted him in the face, the feathers leaving trails of heat across his skin.
Harry grunted as talons scraped his skin. He heard the sound of cloth ripping and stared horrified as the phoenix rose back in the air, his very familiar holly wand grasped tightly in the phoenix's talons.
Harry pushed down his rising magic and fought to maintain respect. Phoenixes were noble and powerful creatures of the Light. They did not steal without a reason.
Then, as if proving his point wrong, Fawkes chirped happily before taking off down the hallway.
Heart jumping into his throat, Harry took off after the flying bird.
The phoenix wasn't doing him any favors with speed and Harry sent magic down into his legs to increase his pace. He remembered nearly crashing into a student patrolling the hallways. Shouting out an apology, Harry stumbled after Fawkes.
They continued for some time before the phoenix slipped through the crack of a door. Slamming into the same door with his shoulder and a push of his magic, Harry tumbled outside.
Sunlight blinded him and Harry found himself squinting at the grounds of Hogwarts. Momentarily stunned, he took a deep breath, inhaling the fragrant smell of flowers and potent magic, before turning around in a half circle to observe his surroundings with a subtle twitch of his fingers.
The wards were as clear as the sky, hovering over Hogwarts like a protective shield. The webs glowed with an amber color imbued with reds, greens, blues, and yellows, the strings so thick and tightly woven together that unraveling was next to impossible. Harry could hear four distinct voices that sang from the magic—two males, two females—that made the magic hum and thrum and vibrate with the intensity.
The longer Harry listened, the louder the voices grew Harry stumbled, his hand waving wildly to try and find purchase to support himself. Shaking his head to stop seeing the magic around him, Harry crouched down, one hand on his throbbing temple and the other planted firmly on the ground.
A wave of dizziness washed over him and Harry fought to ignore the pull of the magic.
Growling to himself, Harry forced himself upright and caught a glimpse of Fawkes preening carefully on a nearby tree. He narrowed his eyes at the wand still clutched in the phoenix's golden talons.
As if feeling the pair of accusatory eyes burning into his back, Fawkes straightened with a squawk before launching into the air again and darting into the forest.
Harry paused for a split second before deciding and followed the bird into the dense woods.
Surprisingly, the forest was quiet. Harry could no longer hear the hum of the wards but he also couldn't hear any noise from Fawkes. The trees shivered and shook despite the lack of wind and Harry couldn't help but feel as if eyes were watching him from every direction.
Harry glanced around suspiciously but found no one around. Straightening his shoulders, Harry subtly wrapped his magic around him, weaving layers of defensive spells around his body. He was reluctant to use his vision to inspect the magic around him in fear that he would fall even deeper in the magic madness.
There was a rustle to his right and Harry wheeled around, a ball of pure, destructive magic gathering in his outstretched palm that pointed at a rather innocent looking bush.
Silence.
Feeling slightly unperturbed, Harry continued his way deeper into the forest, pulling his hood up in some semblance of comfort. The air steadily grew colder and the trees thicker until Harry could no longer walk around without branches brushing his body. He wanted nothing but to turn back but he needed his damned wand back from that damned phoenix.
Snarling as a low branch whipped him across the forward, Harry lifted his hands, intent on cutting his way through when suddenly something whizzed by his face, centimeters away, and stabbed into the offending tree with a dulled thunk.
Harry turned his head to look at the feather-tipped arrow with wide eyes.
"Who dares trespass our territory?" a deep voice called out.
Whipping his head around, Harry turned to see pale colored centaur with white-blond hair ride out of the trees, his blue eyes narrowed at Harry's figure. Flanking his sides were two other centaurs, one with pitch black hair and heavy-set features and another chestnut colored with dark red hair.
Harry frantically searched his mind for centaur etiquette Evan had taught him.
"Greetings," he said with a half bow, eyes never leaving the bows that were notched with arrows pointed straight at him. "I bring nothing but questions with me."
The centaur to the left lowered his bow with an inquisitive look. "He is but a foal."
"He is still trespassing," the centaur with black hair snarled angrily. "The punishment for such transgressions is death, Ronan, you know this as well as I do."
"No," the centaur in the center said slowly, raising a hand. "His magic is not one of a foal… The stars have told me about the boy with magic as pure as his and markings as black as the night. I can see no markings but there is no doubt that you are a Child of Magic."
The other two centaurs looked shocked. "A child of magic?" The angry-looking centaur asked incredulously. "There has not been such a person for centuries. He is an imposter!"
"I am what he says," Harry said in mock confidence, hoping that they wouldn't notice the tremble in his hands. He reached up and pulled down his hood while simultaneously spelling off his glamour.
"A Child of Magic," the centaur named Ronan gasped. He lowered his bow and gave a shallow bow. "It is an honor to be in the presence of someone so close to the Mother. The stars have spoken of you."
Harry felt his shoulders loosen but kept his guard up. "I am looking for a phoenix. Headmaster Dumbledore's phoenix in particular. Have you seen him around?"
The centaur in the center stepped up, ignoring the crafter's question. "The stars have also spoken of the Prophecy. You… you are the chosen one."
"The… what?"
The pale centaur turned to Ronan. "You know as well as I do. He bears both the markings and the lightning bolt. He is the One."
Harry frowned. "The what? What's going on?"
"Impossible," Ronan whispered. He leaned down, neck bending, so that he was face to face with Harry, their noses almost touching. Up close, Harry could see every worry line the centaur bore and the coarse copper hair that sprouted around his face.
A pale hand appeared in his line of vision and Harry's own arm leapt up in a blur, magic building inside of his body as his fingers grasped the centaur's forearm in an iron-like grip.
"I did not give you permission to touch me," Harry said softly, a dangerous undertone grating his voice.
Ronan gave a start. "I can feel it," he said in a wondrous tone, not moving his arm from Harry's grip. "I can feel Her. She is strong inside of you, Child of Magic." But the centaur's brow furrowed. "I can see what the stars have told us. There is darkness inside of you where darkness should never be."
"He strays from his path," the black-haired centaur snarled. "Mars shines bright and he will bring destruction on us all."
"Be quiet, Bane," Ronan snarled, rearing up slightly on the dirt ground. "He is the Chosen One. The Child of Magic. He will not fail."
Harry could feel his impatience building up. "What is going on?" he snapped.
The centaur that remained silent through the argument stepped up. "My name is Firenze, Harry Potter," he said quietly. "You seek the Fire One."
"What are you doing, Firenze?" Bane asked furiously. "You cannot help him—he is a trespasser on our lands and a wizard. Wizards have no love for us, or have you already forgotten about Alana?"
"You are blind and deaf if you think a Child of Magic would harm us," Ronan growled moving forward to block Bane's view of Harry with his enormous body.
"Enough!" Firenze shouted, bringing his hoof down on the ground. "We are sworn to the Mother; she is the one who gifts us with our powers and sight. Bane, think as you will but the Child of Magic is already sworn to the Mother and the Moon. He will do us no harm."
Bane snorted, his black eyes narrowing suspiciously at Harry's small figure before he turned away.
Harry had long lost his grip on Ronan and carefully twitched his fingers so that the webs of magic would appear. He let loose a small sigh of relief when they appeared, thickly entwined in the trees, down the roots, and connecting back to Hogwarts. The thread of magic connecting his own core continued to pulse to his own breath and Harry felt a sense of urgency rise in him.
"I have no wish to harm you or anyone in the forest," he said slowly, making sure to keep his voice steady. "I am only seeking my wand and the Phoenix who stole it.
There was a clack of wood against wood as Bane loaded his bow with an arrow, pointing it straight at Harry. "You, wizard, are just like the others, having the audacity to incriminate a phoenix of thievery!"
Ronan stepped forward and pushed the bow up so the arrow was released high in the air. He watched with neutral eyes as the wooden shaft whistled through the trees and landed with a dull thud in the ground.
Firenze stared down at Harry with questioning eyes. "But you have no need to seek Fawkes. He is already here."
As if they had practiced the timing, Fawkes flew out of the trees and landed on Harry's shoulder, dropping the holly wand into Harry's open palm.
Harry stared at the phoenix.
Ronan broke the brief silence. "You are tied to the wards of Hogwarts as much as they are tied to you. You cannot move far from the core of the castle. You are already weakening from the distance."
The words brought about a rush of weakness flooded Harry's body and he leant against a nearby tree with a huff. "Damnit," he grunted. The pull on his magic seemed to strengthen and he stumbled backwards, almost unconsciously closer to where Hogwarts stood. He looked up with guarded eyes. "You know about the magic madness," he stated flatly
"You must go back," Firenze declared, ignoring Harry's words. "You will be in danger the further you are from the castle. Do not leave it, Child of Magic. Do not lose your path to the darkness, you alone were Chosen for it."
"The Chosen One," Ronan echoed.
"Fate's last laugh," Bane grunted before turning away and trotting back into the depths of the forest.
"Chosen one," Harry repeated cautiously. "Why do you call me that?"
"Because you were the prophesized one," Firenze replied. He turned his face up to stare longingly at the sky above. "You were born as the seventh month dies, born to those who have thrice defied him. You are the Chosen One."
"Chosen for what?"
"To decide our future," Firenze whispered softly. "The fates have foretold it, Harry Potter, and you must prevail in the darkness."
Harry had absolutely no idea what the centaur was talking about but the fatigue was catching up to him.
Nodding, Harry bowed at the two remaining centaurs in farewell. They did not bow back but nodded their heads in acknowledgement before retreating after Bane, leaving Harry alone in the forest.
Harry turned and stared at Fawkes' beady black eyes. "You brought me here for this," he accused.
The phoenix warbled a soft apology and rubbed his head against Harry's wild hair.
"Bloody phoenix," Harry muttered before turning and tracing his steps back towards Hogwarts.
The Chosen One. What in Merlin's name could that mean? He remembered Draco referring to him with some ridiculous title. Could it be possible they were connected?
It was impossible. Evan would have told him if he was prophesized for something. If Harry was planned for greatness, his godfather would have wanted him to recognize that. Albeit it would be for Evan's own benefit but Harry would know nevertheless.
Through his confusion, Harry stepped out of the forest and felt footsteps behind him. Whipping around, he found himself face to face with a pale boy.
They stared at each other, green eyes locked on dark blue before Harry gave in.
"Hello," he greeted with caution.
The other boy did not speak.
Harry took the time to properly observe the other person. He wore standard Hogwarts robes, the emblem of a raven sown on the right side of the chest. The student was tall, almost a head higher than Harry, and had dark brown hair almost the color of black that framed his angular face. He looked vaguely familiar and Harry recognized him as the boy he had nearly run over in the hallways.
The staring, however, had grown far too uncomfortable and Harry took a step to the left, intent on moving around the silent boy.
Before Harry could take another step, a hand shot out and grabbed Harry firmly on his upper arm. To the crafter's shock, the hand was ice cold and hard as steel.
Despite that, Harry managed to jerk away from the touch and send a lethal glare at the stranger. "Excuse me," he said, affronted.
"Yes, excuse you," the boy said in a low, cultured voice. "What are you doing in the Forbidden Forest? It was named that for a reason, you know."
Harry frowned. "That's none of your business," he shot back. Giving a sigh, Harry rubbed his temples. "Sorry," he muttered. "It's been a bad couple of days. Look, I'm sorry for almost running into you this morning."
"That is not what this is about," he said waspishly. "I cannot help but be suspicious when you come out of the forest with a phoenix on your shoulder and odd markings over your face."
Harry blinked before the words registered in his mind. Blanching, he quickly turned around and glamoured them. "They're nothing," he bluffed. Evan would be horribly disappointed. "I just…" he paused. "Lost something," he ended lamely.
The boy did not look convinced. "What's your name?" he asked.
"Harry Potter," Harry said, holding out his hand to be shaken.
Instead of a hand, all Harry got was a deadpan stare and a sneer.
"Impossible," the boy said in a flat voice. "You are full of shit, aren't you?"
Harry dropped his hand and returned the sneer. "Oh shut up," he snarled, his patience finally wearing thin. He clenched his hand in a fist behind his back and began fiddling with the wards. "I hope we never speak again," he said with a smile full of teeth before disappearing, leaving the boy staring in disbelief at where Harry was just standing
He reappeared back into his rooms laughing, sending Fawkes squawking towards a chair to perch on.
He was laughing so hard that he hadn't even realized that he had tapped into Hogwarts' wards without feeling a touch of magic madness.
It was afternoon when Harry reemerged from his rooms. Fawkes had long since disappeared, leaving Harry with only a small song of companionship before the bird flashed away in flames.
Dumbledore had sent Harry a note via house elf that he was to attend the evening feast to be sorted and join his new house. That left Harry with the perfect amount of time to seek out a certain blond Malfoy and to demand some answers and explanations.
The exhaustion had kicked back in and the consistent pull at his magic towards the wards did not give up. He could feel the wards strengthening as his magic seeped away but Harry forced himself to ignore them.
Before long, Harry found himself lost in one of the many long-winding corridors in Hogwarts. Just as he was about to give in and ask the castle for where the Slytherin rooms were, he heard two voices in the distance arguing.
"Look, just because you have absolutely no regard for rules doesn't mean the rest of us will break them like you do! Honestly, Ronald, why would you even ask me to do your Potions homework?"
"But Granger," the other voice, male, whined. "I'm going to play Quidditch with some of the other Gryffindors tomorrow morning so we can prepare for the season next year. Please?"
There was a thump of a book hitting flesh. "Quidditch?" the feminine voice shrieked. "Oh for the love of Merlin—"
Harry quickly walked into view, interrupting the growing argument. "Excuse me," he interrupted politely.
The girl flushed and turned around, hands on her hips. She had brown hair that fell in a mass of long curls around her shoulders and intelligent, hazel eyes that sparked with fury. There was a lion embroidered on her robes and she stood tall, her chin held up high as if no man could ever tip her over. "Yes?" she asked.
Harry felt an irrational twinge of nervousness. "I'm a bit lost," he said, coloring a bit in embarrassment.
"A new student?" the boy asked, stepping forward. He had bright red hair that was cropped shortly to his freckled face. He leaned casually onto the nearby stone wall, his tall, lankly figure creating an imposing shadow over Harry's short stature.
"You could say that," Harry murmured. "I'm looking for the Slytherin rooms."
The boy's face immediately closed off and he moved a step back, his blue eyes darkening with distrust and anger. "A snake," he muttered with an accusatory look. "Of course you are."
Harry narrowed his eyes. Before he could open his mouth and shoot a retort, the girl interrupted hastily.
"No one except Slytherins know where the Slytherin rooms are. It works the same way with the other three houses. However, you should be able to find it somewhere in the dungeons," she said helpfully, pointing in the directly that led to a low, winding staircase.
"Thanks," he said before moving forward. Brushing past the red-head's shoulder, Harry clamored down the stairs. He couldn't help but overhear their last few words.
"Why did you help him, Granger? He's a slimy snake!"
"Oh grow up, Ronald. He's a new student. He wasn't even sorted yet. Besides, haven't you already learned that not all Slytherins are bad?"
Their voices trailed off as Harry continued his way down to the dungeons. He could vaguely remember Evan talking about house rivalries in Hogwarts and how the Slytherin House was generally perceived as the one with dark wizards.
If so, the rivalry would be nothing but a foolish waste of time. Harry had done his fair amount of research on all his assassination targets and a good chunk of them were Gryffindors or Hufflepuffs in Hogwarts who led countless corrupt and abusive dealings.
As Harry walked through the hallway, he felt a twinge in his magic and stopped. There was something magically powerful nearby.
Reaching out with his own magic, Harry felt around until he found himself face to face with a solid stone wall. He extended his senses and probed with his magic. Yes, there was definitely a hidden entrance behind the wall.
There was undoubtedly some kind of password required for entry. Unfortunately, Harry didn't have the time or patience to sit around and guess.
He peered closer at the wall and saw a small, almost microscopic snake cut into the stone. Taking out his wand, Harry touched the tip of the holly to the snake and watched in satisfaction as it gave a little wriggle.
Hello, he hissed in greeting. Do you guard the Ssslytherin Rooms?
The small snake began to dance. Yessss, yessss! It exclaimed exuberantly. I have not talked to a human being in centuriesss. You musst be a descendent of Master Sssalaazar.
I sssuppose, Harry said doubtfully. I was wondering if you would let me through.
The snake stopped its dancing. Passssword?
Harry hid a grimace. I forgot it, he said in a pitying voice. Would you let me in though? I am a descendent of Slytherin and I rightfully belong in the house.
There was a pause before the wall cracked open and revealed an entryway.
Yess yess, the snake hissed. Welcome Massster.
Harry slid through the door and strode into the common room. It was surrounded by six elegant arches that led to different hallways. In the center was a roaring fireplace that was flanked by two large windows that gave view to the depths of the Black Lake. Tall armchairs with stiff cushions littered the room and torches were in the shape of snakes, their mouths open wide around the flickering flames.
There were several people sitting in the room and their eyes immediately zeroed in onto Harry.
"You're not a Slytherin," one boy said suspiciously from the couch. "Who are you?"
Harry ignored the boy and brushed past a standing student. He pulled out his wand, ignoring the sudden tense atmosphere, and whispered, "Point me, Draco Malfoy."
The wand spun north and Harry tucked it back into his holster before following the direction.
"Hey!" a different voice called out as Harry began climbing a set of stairs. "You're not allowed to go up there!"
Again, Harry ignored the speaker. This time, however, he felt the cold touch of wand at the back of his neck and slowed to a stop. He felt his magic rise around and he turned with deliberate slowness, relishing in the paling of the foolish boy who held a wand to his neck.
The student looked part Italian though his dark-skin pointed to some kind of African descent. He had cool, brown eyes and a confident swagger that dwindled slightly around the crafter's presence.
"Put that down," Harry said pleasantly. "Before I do it for you."
Despite the fear and the suffocating presence of his magic, the boy remained steadfast. Two other Slytherins, a boy and a girl, moved to flank the other, their wands outstretched and pointed at Harry's head.
Harry chuckled at the attempt at threat. He had dealt with situations a hundred times more dangerous; he had no fear for school boys. Flicking his wand into his hand, Harry used it to push away the wand from underneath is chin while maintaining eye contact. He brought his magic to the surface, getting ready to fake a spell from his wand before a voice interrupted him.
"Zabini! What are you doing?"
Harry sighed and tucked his wand into his holster as he heard the snotty voice of Draco from the top of the stairs. Turning his back on the three Slytherins, Harry faced the blond and hid a smug grin at Draco's horrified expression.
"Draco," Zabini acknowledged. "This intruder was seeking you out."
Draco stared at Harry's figure for a moment longer before speaking. "Yes, yes," he said faintly. More firmly, he said to Harry, "Come up here. We can talk in my room."
Reluctantly obeying, Harry turned to send the three stunned Slytherins a sneer before climbing up the stairs after the retreating blond.
When they reached the dormitory, Harry quickly wove a privacy ward and sat down onto one of the nearby beds, his headache becoming almost unbearable.
"What do you want?" Draco asked breathlessly.
Harry stared up at the Slytherin. "Your services, of course. I was promised them, wasn't I? Unless our Lord told you otherwise…"
Draco paled and hurriedly hushed him. "Shh!" he hissed. "We can't speak of that here, are you insane?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "I put up a privacy ward," he said. "I'd feel if it someone were trying to break through."
The blond huffed but relaxed a bit. "Yes, I was… ordered to help you with what you need for your mission." He kept his voice low and his tone grew mocking at the word "your."
Harry ignored the jab. He is just a child, Harry repeated in his head. Just a child. You cannot kill a child who does not understand a thing. Out loud, he said, "I need all you know about Hogwarts. No, I don't want the biased Slytherin version but I think that's the best I'll get. I need to know everything. Layout, houses, students, professors, food, and hell, even the house elves. If I play to carry out this mission successfully, I need to know about my playing field."
Draco grimaced but nodded his head jerkily. Taking a seat on the bed next to Harry's, he opened his mouth and began.
"There are four houses of Hogwarts," he intoned. "First, Slytherin, obviously the greatest of the four."
Harry swallowed a groan.
Evan was dreaming.
He had been dreaming as of late, especially since Harry's capture.
There were a lot of things he dreamed about but what he dreamed most about was fire. He dreamed about the licks of flame and the sparks that jumped and danced in the night and the smoke that rose and coiled up towards the skies.
He dreamed of his enemies burning and their flesh melting off until there was nothing but charred bones left. He dreamed of branding Harry with fire so that the crafter would remember he belonged to Evan first. He dreamed of putting Hogwarts up in flames and destroying Azkaban with a roaring tsunami of fire and blood.
But within those dreams Evan also heard the screams of a little boy. They were shrill and swollen with fear, each piercing sound stabbing Evan in the heart. With every scream, his mind conjured the image of shadows looming from the nearby flames, the shape of a woman bending over the hilt of a knife embedded in her stomach. He dreamed of the cries of helplessness drowned out by the screams and the cruel laughter in the distance.
It didn't take long for Evan to wake up, his chest heaving up and down in loud breaths. Running his hand through his hair, Evan wiped away some of the perspiration on his skin and forced his eyes to close again.
This time, he saw the shadow of a man above the fire before the screams started again.
Evan felt the corners of his mouth curve into a cruel, self-deprecating smile and he settled down to dream some more.
Eh? What did you think?
Pericia Hart: Thanks for your input! I think that if I do decide to have a pairing, it would be yaoi, though there would not be any super descriptive scenes. Romance will definitely not become a main factor of this story. Thanks so much for your continued support and reviews! Hope you liked this chapter!
ElemetalFoxGoddess: Thanks for the input! I am taking comments into consideration so we'll see how it is. Thanks for reading and the review!
Wolven Spirits: Thanks for the review and your continued support! Hope you loved this chapter!
Makurayami Ookami: Thanks for the review!
Kamorie: Thanks for the review! And though I shouldn't say, he does learn some control to a certain extent. We'll see more of magic and all the other good stuff later (;
So next chapter we will see some more interesting things. Some new faces, some Snape scene, and oh, Voldemort comes back!
Thanks to everyone and I hope I will manage to get the new chapter in a lot sooner.