CHAPTER 24: Halloween (Retribution)

The Great Hall

October 31st, 1995

8:15 p.m.

Harry strode into the Great Hall with a group of Slytherins led by Keeva Sanchez, the sixth year female prefect. He had left the DA meeting tonight later than usual, probably because of his talk with Susan, and by the time he had returned to the common room almost all the prefects had left, along with the rest of the house. Thankfully, Sanchez had been waiting on some younger years to come up from their dormitories - a group of first and second years which, funnily enough, included Michael.

Seeing him made Harry realise how much he had neglected the first-year boy he had cared for during September. The conflict with Daphne, and Montague later on, had maintained most of his attention, and he'd completely forgotten about little Michael. It was only once he saw him again that he realised that he had actually missed the kid, though that wasn't something he said out-loud. Thankfully, Michael hadn't taken slight to his absence this month, though Harry felt that was more because of the second-year witch with red hair that the kid couldn't stop glancing at.

Michael had greeted him amiably and the two talked as they made their way to the Great Hall. But as much as Harry tried to focus on the conversation, images of Montague laughing in the common room - his laughs blended with his own screams in a twisted orchestra that slowly built up inside his mind. As much as Harry tried to drown all that with Michael's voice, it seemed more impossible by the second, and by the time they reached the Great Hall, he abruptly interrupted Michael, saying he had to take care of something, but promising they'd catch up later.

Michael had just shrugged, smiled, and agreed, before basically skipping towards the red-haired girl and striking conversation with her. The scene tearing through Harry like physical pain. He hated seeing Michael like that - innocent, naive, nice. He hated how much he reminded him of himself all those years ago. He couldn't let it stand, couldn't allow the kid to be as naive as he had been. To make the same mistakes he had. He would talk to him, make him see reason - force him if he had to. But right now, he didn't have time for that.

He turned towards the Slytherin table, finding Graham surrounded by a mass of sixth and seventh-years.

Right now, he didn't have time at all.

Making his way to his spot on the table, Harry couldn't help but see as both Susan and Hermione stared shamelessly at him, concern and confusion clear in their respective faces. But just as obvious as the two girls staring at him from the other side of the hall was how aggressively almost every fifth-year or above in the Slytherin table was avoiding his gaze. Greengrass and Malfoy being clear examples of it. Probably the only one who wasn't actively avoiding him was Montague, who had turned towards him and smiled in his usual patronizing way, but without anything that might bring any red flags to his head - before turning back to his food. If there were no other students at the table and Susan hadn't told him about what she'd heard, Harry doubted he could've figured out Montague was scheming something purely from that look.

"Move!" Harry snarled at Davis, who was sitting in front of Theo and Pansy, where he usually sat.

"French Toast?" she asked nervously, handing him the serving utensil.

Greengrass had obviously sent her, made her try to convince him of whatever scheme she or Montague had in place. Only an idiot would fall for such a pathetic scheme, one which included Tracey Davis, of all people! Harry turned to sneer at Greengrass, who violently ignored him even as he did that. It was honestly disappointing that Daphne - that Graham - had come up with a scheme as idiotic as that.

He expected more from him.

Harry snatched it without paying any mind to Davis, instead turning towards the two people in front of him. "What are you doing here? Spying for Montague?" He asked bluntly, uncaring if he was breaking the bond he had built with them over the past month. He began picking the French Toast closest to where Tracey had handed him the spatula.

"Montague?" Pansy almost snarled. "We've stood with you over the past few weeks, giving you support as best as we can even if you're being a grade A arse, and you repay that by insinuating we're with Montague!?"

"As if you wouldn't do the same if you were working for Montague," Harry snapped, before finally addressing Tracey. "And what are you doing here?" Harry snapped. "Shouldn't you be with the rest of your friends?"

"I… errr… well… the thing is…"

Harry groaned, rolling his eyes. "Stop wasting my time!"

She hesitated, quickly glancing at his food plate.

"Leave!"

"Yes!" She squeaked, abruptly standing up. "Sorry, I'll go."

Tracey all but ran towards the spot besides Bulstrode, who was near the older Slytherins, avoiding his gaze. Harry rolled his eyes and focused on the two Slytherins in front of him. "What are you two doing here?"

"What?"

"We're trying to help you!"

"Help me?" Harry barked a laugh, shuddering a bit as it reminded him of Moody's laugh. "You don't want to help me! You just want to turn me over to Montague!" He scoffed. "Don't worry, I already know what he's planning."

The two of them turned towards each other nervously, and Harry ignored them. He was famished, after training for hours with the Hufflepuffs, he needed something to boost his energy. Haphazardly cutting up the French Toast, he began eating it and immediately took pause.

They were good. He couldn't remember the last time the French Toast at Hogwarts was this good. It seemed almost too good to be true, but as he ate another bite, he realised it wasn't. The mere smell was intoxicating and the more he ate, the hungrier he was. He began feasting on it, eating as much as his mouth could handle without turning into an eating mess like Weasley.

But as he relished on his meal, his two friends watched over him carefully.

"What!?" He finally snapped.

"Harry, you aren't acting normal." Theo said.

"Or sensible," Pansy added under her breath.

"I'm acting more sensible than either of you wankers could ever-"

"No, you're not!" Parkinson snapped. "You're irrational! You're keeping secrets!" She grabbed his free hand. "Please, tell us. Let us help! Otherwise, you're going to make a fool out of yourself - again!"

"There's nothing to help with." Harry snarled, tearing his hands from hers. "Leave me alone, Parkinson, I don't need you."

A spark of irritation flared from her eyes. "Fine," She said simply. "I won't bother you anymore.

"Finally," Harry rolled his eyes. "Though I hope you'll keep your word this time instead of pestering me relentlessly like you have been for the past week."

"Trust me," she said coldly. "Your attitude makes me want to forget you completely."

"Good," Harry breathed out, but as he stared at his two friends, neither of them moved. "Well, then?" He asked expectantly. "What are you still doing here!? I thought I told you to leave!"

Pansy scoffed. "When you are begging for us, remember that it was you who sent us away." She said coolly.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Harry rolled his eyes. "Just leave."

Theo turned towards Pansy, who had just stood up, before reluctantly following her. Harry didn't even bother looking at them as they left, instead going back to his dinner. He kept eating, a part of him was startled at how fast he had been finishing his food, but it didn't matter. He was still hungry.

It was nearly after fifteen minutes of non-stop eating when the full weight of all the food finally settled on his stomach. Harry yawned, feeling as if the buttons of his shirt were about to burst out. He shouldn't have eaten as much, he could feel as an unrelenting need for sleep began consuming him. He yawned again and looked at the Head Table, noticing Umbridge wasn't there.

Harry caught his eyes as they were about to shut off and immediately stood up. He needed a nap. If Montague was going to make a play, he needed to be awake for it. He stumbled out of his seat, gaining the attention of a few Slytherins nearby. Theo turned to look at him in concern, but when he tried to get up, he was shoved down by Pansy. Most of the older Slytherins hadn't looked - not even Daphne, who was furiously staring at her plate. But Draco did look, there was a menacing glint in his eye. And Montague… a smile danced in his lips.

Fuck. Harry began panicking. It was them, it had to be them. The need to sleep was becoming more and more powerful by the second, and he gripped his jaw tight to avoid yawning again. His hand instinctively reached for his wand, but what could he do? He was in a room filled with other Slytherins, filled with teachers. He doubted he could get past the entire group of sixth and seventh-year Slytherins, but even if he did, Snape wouldn't miss an opportunity to punish him for putting a toe out of line.

He had to run. Escape. Go somewhere they couldn't hurt him. But the Room of Requirement was all the way up in the seventh floor on the opposite side of the castle. He wouldn't make it. But the dormitory… it was close, and he'd practised for this - every night for the past four years, waiting for this moment.

Harry began rushing out of the room, not quite running, but walking in a way that raised alarms to several people in the room. However, as soon as he had made it out of the hall and away from hearing range, his overtly hasty walk turned into an outright run.

Why was this happening? It wasn't normal, it wasn't natural. Would he abruptly drop dead once whatever was affecting him overpowered his will? And then it hit him like a brick, with enough power that it almost made him stop in his tracks. The food. Tracey. What did they put on his food? How didn't he notice it?

It didn't matter. He had fucked up. He was about to pass out. So, he sped up, putting all of his dwindling energy into reaching the common room. If someone had used some potion or something on him to make him sleep, it was only the start of the plan. He needed to reach his bed, put the wards around it, make it so that not even Dumbledore could bypass them before he awakened.

"Retribution!" He snarled at the giant snake guarding the portrait. It uncurled itself, almost in slow motion, and Harry could feel his panic rise as he thought he heard footsteps near him. But as he looked around, no one was there. Was he hallucinating? Was he poisoned? Would he die? Or was it just a sedative?

The moment the portrait opened, all those questions left his mind. He dashed towards the stairs, jumping over three of them at a time as he descended towards his dormitory five floors down. He was almost there, having passed the fourth-year dormitories, before he felt the effects of whatever they had dosed him with crash. His whole body suddenly turned absurdly heavy, and his eyes were trying to force themselves shut.

So, as he was landing on one of the steps, he lost his balance and began tumbling down. His hands went to his head, covering it as he fell over twelve individual steps. Each crash brought an increasing level of pain, but thankfully, he had managed to avoid landing on his back. At least until he reached the spot in front of the fifth-year dormitories.

"Agh!" Harry groaned, forcing himself to stifle the scream that he wanted to release. He'd gotten used to living with his wound, but every time he landed on his back like this, it brought an entire world of pain that made his eyes water.

He forced himself to his feet, ignoring the way his body was shouting at him to stop.

Bursting into the room, Harry quickly spotted his bed. He pulled out his wand, making his way to stand in front of it as he prepared himself to begin placing the wards.

"EXPELLIARMUS!"

He heard the scream long after his wand was yanked out of his hand. Harry wanted to snarl in anger at how easily his reflexes had been turned to shit, but he didn't have the energy for it. He turned around, finding Draco Malfoy smirking victoriously at him, twirling his wand in his hand.

"Good night, Potter," Malfoy raised his wand and cast a spell, but he didn't need to.

Harry had already succumbed to his imprisoning sleep.

Much later…

Cold. Freezing. Wet.

Harry's eyes immediately snapped open as his face was hit with a jet of water. He was hanging by his arms, his feet slumped on the floor. Harry tried to catch his footing, blindly kicking around until he fully managed to stand. He immediately moved out of the way, shivering, managing to make out the outline of a large group of people - eight, maybe ten - in front of him. The leader, Montague, he figured, halted the water spell he had launched at him and observed him intently.

Slowly, his eyes began to adapt to the unfamiliar scene in front of him.

In the centre was Montague, sitting on a Sacramento green armchair, one that was fairly popular among the students of the house. On either side of him, Pucey and Rowle stood, bearing him with their most malicious smiles - their hatred for him clear. To the left of them sat Greengrass, Davis, and Malfoy on one of the long couches that had been moved from near the fireplace. Tracey looked completely out of her depth, unsure as to how she should feel. Malfoy was grinning widely, with that self-satisfied look the moron used when things were going his way. And Greengrass, surprisingly, was still avoiding his gaze, staring down at her hands in shame.

On the other side stood Madeline Davis -who was Tracey's older sister - Finnley Goldstein, and Keeva Sanchez. Widely known as the three most ambitious Slytherins from their year, it shouldn't have been a surprise that they were heavily involved with Montague's schemes. Especially given the power vacuum that would be created when Graham and his buddies left at the end of the year. Did those idiots really think they would be the ones to take their place?

He could also hear two sets of footsteps behind him at either side. Probably some other seventh-years. As much as he wanted to confirm his theory, he didn't want to give them the satisfaction of turning towards them.

Harry's gaze went back to Montague. The boy was studying him, his eyes boring into him as his body was completely still. He wanted to lunge at him, strangle him with his own hands, scratch his eyes out, torture him all night before finally killing him. But he was shackled up, and his wand - he paused, focusing on himself. He was only wearing his shirt and pants, he didn't have his holster on him.

"Looking for this?" Graham asked calmly, pulling out the holster and throwing it at the floor. "I apologise for removing your wand-holster and chaining you up like that. I'm aware this can bring… unpleasant memories." There was no hint of a smile as he said this, no gleam in his eye - his words seemed oddly genuine. "Surely, you understand why I had to do this. After what happened with my friends… I didn't want anything like that to happen here."

Harry gaped at him, somehow managing to keep his jaw from dropping. The last time he was in this position, Montague had been calm, yes. But never like this. That night, there was a menacing tone to every one of his words. But now… The lack of any aggressiveness put him more on edge.

Harry tensed his chains, a fire tearing at his heart as he was once again in this position. Where he was helpless, at Montague's mercy. He could see the spot where he was tortured four years ago. It was right behind the group. The traumatic memories of that night assaulted him, his screams reverberating in his mind, and his wound felt just as fresh and painful as it had that day.

He wouldn't, couldn't end up like that. Not again. But there was no escape for him, no way he could think of to free himself from this situation. And even if he could, it would be eleven armed individuals against him without a wand. He needed to think of something, try to get out. Thankfully… Montague was prone to monologues.

"So…" he began, forcing his voice to sound stronger than it would've. "Here we are again. The French Toast," he turned towards Tracey. "I assume that was you?"

The girl averted his gaze, saying nothing. Harry sighed. He had been such an idiot.

"I realise how this looks," Montague started, and Harry snorted. "But I give you my word, I'm trying to avoid any unpleasantness. I've been wanting to talk to you for a while, actually talk to you. But you have been… difficult."

"So, what? This is your twisted way for us to have a heart-to-heart?" Harry spat.

"No. It's the only way I could manage to make a proposal to you."

"And what is this proposal," Harry laughed despite the situation. Montague didn't look amused.

"You're a smart kid, Harry," Montague began seriously. "I'm sure you're not one of those idiots who can't see what is happening. The Dark Lord has returned. And you've caught the eye of one of his most trusted servants."

"Yeah? Who?"

"Ares."

"Ares," Harry repeated, forcing himself to keep the gravity Montague was presenting. "The God of War, Ares. I didn't realise Voldemort was chummy with the Gods."

Before Harry could blink, a burning sting exploded in his cheek. He immediately pressed his face against his arm, putting pressure on the cut.

"You will not disrespect our Lord that way, Potter," Rowle snarled.

"What Ben means is that we would prefer if you referred to him as The Dark Lord. There's no need to be disrespectful." Montague said silkily.

"No need-" Harry was too stunned to speak. "No need!? Am I supposed to forget all the perverted shit you did to me that night! Right inside this room!? We're way past disrespect, Graham, you made sure of that."

Half of the Slytherins looked at Montague questioningly, Daphne looking up for the first time all night, but Montague stared impassively at him.

"What I did that night was… wrong." He conceded slowly. "It was a rash decision out of anger rather than something I'm proud of. I should've taken a more discreet, less… barbaric approach to our conflict. And judging you based on what your family did was the wrong move as well. I failed to realise how good of an ally you could be to me - to all of us. You've certainly impressed Ares, he's grown very fond of you. I don't think I need to explain how big of a feat it is that you managed to impress someone named after the God of War and Violence, do I?"

"Who the fuck is this… Ares!?" Harry snapped.

Graham smiled. "You were very close, from what I've been told. Have you really forgotten all about the man who taught you most of the impressive duelling techniques you use these days?"

Harry's eyes widened. "You can't mean…"

"He sends his regard, and his congratulations on managing to easily best an ambush from older students. He seemed delighted when I told him, I probably think that he didn't tell me about your private lessons so that he could test how you've managed to keep up your training."

"He… he is a Death Eater!?" Harry felt his world crumble around him, his legs wanted to give out below him. The one person he had grown to learn to trust, he'd been a Death Eater all this time! He felt nauseous. He shouldn't. What's one more name to his list of betrayals? "Moody is a Death Eater!?"

"Moody?" Montague laughed. "Nah. He wasn't the real Moody, just an impersonator. The real one was kept inside his trunk for the whole year, if you can believe that!"

"Then who is he!? His real name!"

"I can't, Harry." He said shamelessly. "Even if I wasn't bound by an Unbreakable Vow not to reveal too much of… well… everything. I wouldn't want to deprive Ares of the pleasure."

"So Fake Moody wants me to join your bloody cult? That's why you've been at my throat this past month!?"

"I haven't been at your throat at all. It has all been you-"

"You sent those idiots to ambush me!"

"They went on their own," he replied, in a mix between boredom and exasperation. He stood up and began pacing around in front of him, finally the real Montague was creeping out. "Potter, I am offering you a chance. One that not many people from your… status will get. A chance to choose the winning side. The Dark Lord returned from the grave, there are witnesses to that. It's an accomplishment that has never been done before in the history of magic-kind, and one that proves any resistance is futile! No matter what Longbottom and his band of merry men do, the Dark Lord will win."

"That's what people were saying about two decades back," Harry smirked. "And look how that ended. Defeated by a mediocre baby. Pathetic."

Snap. Finally. The cold fire behind Montague's eyes was back. He was the only one who could do that, the only person to make Montague lose his composure completely. He'd done it before four years ago, and he was doing it again. It was stupid, but oh so satisfying.

In a second, Montague's fist contacted against his jaw, the punch feeling much harder than the ones he had received before from him, though the cynical part of his mind couldn't help but notice Longbottom's punch had been better.

"I don't know what you said or did to Ares to make him want to include filth like you. Frankly, I didn't want to make you this offer. If it was up to me, I would've put you back in your place again rather than trying to come up with a truce where we all win. But I didn't have a choice. Thank you, for rejecting the offer. I can honestly say I did my best to try and convince you when they asked what happened to you."

Montague turned back to the others and smiled. "But first, let's bring everyone up to speed.

Meanwhile, in the Slytherin Fifth-Year Boy's Dormitories

Theo awoke with a start. He was panting heavily, gripping the sheet as if it was the only thing tethering him to this world. He closed his eyes, focused on evening out his breaths as he thought back to his nightmare.

It was the one he always had, one that had been ever-present in his mind ever since the incident right before third-year. He was surprised at how intense it was tonight, it hadn't been like that in a few weeks now. He could feel a gnawing feeling in his stomach, a monster trying to claw itself out of him, and Theo sighed.

He wouldn't be getting any sleep any time soon.

Opening the curtain, Theo stepped out of his bed, only to immediately feel a change in something. It was only then when he realised something was wrong. There was more sound outside his bed, somehow. Before it had been completely quiet, eerily quiet. But now there were sounds. He could hear the snores from Goyle and Blaise, the creaking of the door, the slight sounds that often made it hard for him to sleep.

He immediately turned towards Harry's bed. His curtains were closed, but he had a bad feeling. Someone had placed a ward on his bed, on the other beds as well, probably. That couldn't have been an accident.

Slowly, he opened the curtains to find the bed empty. Immediately, he was fully woken up. He looked around the room in alarm, before rushing towards the other beds, checking for everyone else. Crabbe was there. Goyle was there. Malfoy was… not there.

"Oh, no." He breathed out.

He needed to contact Pansy, anyone really! There was a large probability Harry was in danger, and even though he had been a massive arse these past couple weeks. He was still his friend. Then, his eyes nearly bulged out of his face.

"Blaise!" He hissed, grabbing his wand from his nightstand.

Back at the Slytherin Common Room

"Over the past few months, all of you have been told to beware the Bogeyman, the one that managed to put three seventh-years in the infirmary and got away with it scot-free." Montague said snidely. "I think it's time we reveal the truth behind the legend. Harry Potter is nothing more than a scared little kid. One that needs to be put in his place once more. What do I mean by that? Allow me to show you."

"Don't you dare," Harry snarled, realising what Montague wanted to do. But it was no use. Montague idly cast a low-powered cutting curse on him, one that managed to cut a large gash in his shirt and lightly cut a section of his chest as well. Montague stared deeply into his eyes before yanking off the shirt completely.

"There's a reason why little Harry here has always feared me. I branded him as my bitch a few years back, and made sure he would never forget it." Montague turned him around with a flick of his wand, revealing the massive M shaped scar that was on his back. It still looked as gruesome as it had that day, the curse of the knife keeping it an open wound, not even letting it scar.

Harry felt his eyes sting as he kept his head down in shame, not wanting to see any of the mocking faces he expected from the rest of the group. But instead, he was surprised when he heard a fair share of gasps. Great, now they were pitying him. He didn't want that. He didn't need that. He wasn't the weak little baby Montague was making him out to be. Harry tried to pull at his chains, but just like the previous time, it was useless.

"So, as you can see, Potter isn't the big bad monster everyone is painting him out to be. He isn't a powerful wizard, he isn't even a light threat. He's pathetic, a pitiful excuse for a Slytherin." Montague turned him around once more, and Harry managed to catch some of the looks that were sent his way.

Half of the group was smiling, sneering at his shame, at his suffering. But the other half wasn't, they looked appalled, extremely disturbed. Daphne was eyeing him with all the pity in the world, her jaw slacked, looking more distraught than anything he'd seen before from her. Draco looked more shaken than anything, and for once, his glance was apologetic. Tracey, with as much grace as she could, promptly vomited on the couch.

And then… his back exploded in pain.

"AHHHHHH!" Harry shook around, trying to rid himself of the probing finger that was pushing into his wound. He had thought he'd felt as much pain as possible from that wound, but he was completely mistaken. The feeling of Montague tearing into his wound felt as intense as when he had carved it out all those years ago.

It felt like an eternity, he wanted to shout, to make it stop. But he didn't. The most he'd get out of him was a shout, not a plea.

His blood-curling screams didn't stop until Montague finally released him. The pain was still there, but it was much less intense than before.

"I wonder…" Montague trailed off as he walked back to standing in front of Harry. "What would hurt worse? Messing with your wound or the cruciatus curse." He shrugged, a savage smirk growing on his face. "Let's test it, shall we? CRUCIO!"

Agony. Anguish. Torture. Pain. Suffering. All these words combined wouldn't even begin to describe what Harry felt. His mind went blank, no other thought was allowed in other than the earth-shattering pain coursing through his body. It felt as if his blood had turned into fire, burning him alive from the inside. Like a billion tiny knives were impaling every inch of his body, including in his wound, over and over again. Like his organs were exploding and restoring themselves continuously. Like his body was forced between two walls, cracking all of his bones, destroying them completely. It felt like that, like all of that, at the same time.

He began convulsing violently, yanking at his chains, almost dancing as he was forced to maintain himself upwards on his feet. The pain kept rising, and he stayed there for months, years, decades, and centuries. And then he finally gave in, he slumped himself completely, barely feeling the shackles tightening around his wrist as his body shook while hanging of the chains.

And then… it all stopped. The pain was gone, as if it had never been there. His body went numb, but he couldn't stop it from trembling on its own. It felt like he was a passenger in someone else's body, not allowed to move, only able to feel as it shifted by itself.

"Should I assume that hurt more than touching your wound?" Montague asked nastily, bringing him out of his thoughts. But as he looked at him, he saw two faces peering at him from the boy's staircases. He recognised them instantly, it was Theo and Blaise. They were both pale, watching the scene with horrified looks. Harry blinked and they were gone.

God, he was imagining things now.

"F-Fuck you," Harry spat.

"I'm curious to see what it takes to break your spirit again. Let's try something that proved to work in the past." Montague turned around, bending over the armchair and pulling out the knife. The one that had haunted countless nightmares of his. The one that he would never forget. "As much as I want to do this again, there are other people in this room who have earnt the pleasure." He turned towards Pucey and Rowle, handing them the knife.

Rowle grinned as he took hold of the knife, wasting no time as he began walking towards him. No one stood up for him, asked them to stop, not even the ones that were clearly horrified by it all. They probably knew they would be next if they did.

Harry forced himself not to yank at his chains, not to panic, not to even flinch. If he was going to go through this hell again, he'd do so with grace. He took in a deep breath, and just as he was about to close his eyes, just as the two Slytherin boys were about to reach him, he felt something prodding at his hand.

He stopped, looking at the staircases he saw Theo and Blaise once again, looking at him intently.

"I've been waiting for this ever since you sent me to the infirmary, you filthy half-blood." Rowle snarled, lightly tracing the knife through his skin.

As discreetly as he could, Harry opened his hand, and he felt an invisible object force itself into his grip. It immediately felt foreign in his hand, almost as if it was actively fighting against him. It wasn't his wand, that was clear from the holster at his feet. Would he even be able to wield it?

"Where do you think, Pucey? The other side of his back? Or perhaps we can add on to his chest."

"Definitely chest," Pucey laughed. "It looks a little empty right now."

"So this is it, huh?" Harry asked loudly, trying to gain time as he forced his will on the wand in his hand. "You're too much of a coward that you let your friends do the dirty work? Why don't you come here and carve whatever you want to carve yourself."

"You don't think, do you?" Montague smiled. "You see, that's your problem, Potter. You're the lone wolf, insistent on doing everything alone, trusting that just because you are a fair dueller you'll be fine. You don't realise just how valuable having allies really is. You don't realise how insignificant being a good dueller is, how easily I beat you without even needing to raise my wand. You never understood what being a True Slytherin means, which is why you will always lose. Why you'll always be alone."

"He's not alone," Theo's quiet voice stated fiercely, getting everyone's attention.

Harry blinked, and felt as if time had suddenly slowed down considerably. This was it. Harry gripped the wand in his hand and focused completely on it. On the texture, on the girth, on the power radiating from it, fighting his own. And for once, he didn't hold himself back. He focused on his power, focus on casting the spells with as much strength as he could, focused on freeing himself.

He pointed it to the chains and screamed at the top of his lungs. "LIBERO!"

The loud sound of the shackles snapping from his wrists echoed across the room, immediately stopped everyone from focusing on Theo for too long. Conflicted about whom to focus on, Harry took his opportunity. He kneed Pucey in his crotch before jamming the invisible wand in his hand at Rowle's face.

"AHHHHHH!" Blood splattered everywhere as Rowle staggered back, clutching the left eye Harry had jammed his wand at. "CONFRINGO! CONFRINGO!"

The two purple curses were launched in opposite directions. They moved painfully slow to how Harry's usual spells moved, but they both hit their marks. Rowle and Pucey were sent flying in different directions, both crashing against the wall, knocked unconscious. Harry hated how weak those blasting curses came out. He had put all his power and energy into them, something that most likely would have destroyed the two bodies if he had cast it with his wand. Instead, the curses acted more like small explosions, powerful enough to break bones and send people flying, but not nearly as powerful as he'd hoped.

"STUPEFY!"

"REDUCTO!"

Harry rolled over, managing to dodge both spells from the pair that had managed to keep themselves from his eyesight - Livia Vane and Raymond Towsend.

"CONFRINGO! CONFRINGO!"

"CRUCIO!"

"REDUCTO! STUPEFY!"

"BOMBARDA MAXIMA!"

Harry was forced to move from his position, not even able to see if his blasting curses had managed to hit the two seventh-years.

An all out brawl had broken out in the common room. Tracey, Daphne, and Draco had turned towards Theo and Blaise, the former being the only one with a wand. Montague, Sanchez, Davis, and Goldstein were launching a barrage of spells towards him. He couldn't trust his shield charms to work, the last thing he needed was for them to be overpowered and have them explode in his face. So, he ran, jumped, rolled over, and used the environment to his advantage. But with four people pinning him down, it was impossible to take a shot.

"CONFRINGO!"

Harry threw himself to the ground, barely avoiding the blasting curse that had been headed straight for his groin. He turned around, spotting Livia Vane charging at him furiously. Five.

He'd faced worse odds in the Room of Requirement. He'd been trained by Moody - Ares, whoever he was - to survive an ambush. He could do this.

Yeah, but you weren't trained to do so with someone else's wand.

"Shut up," Harry breathed out exasperatedly. "REDUCTO!"

He jumped over the couch, cursing as he saw the girl manage to block it just in time. He couldn't continue like this, he needed his wand.

"EXPULSO! STUPEFY!"

"CONFRINGO!"

"CRUCIO! CRUCIO!"

Debris flew all around Harry, some of it even hitting him as he evaded the curses launched at him. Most of them were easy to dodge, it was clear that they didn't bother much with actually practising duelling. But Montague and his cruciatus curses - those always hit too close for comfort.

"EXPELLIARMUS!"

Davis' wand was ripped from her hand by Theo's spell, drawing all attention to him. In the background, Harry saw Blaise on top of Draco, punching him like a muggle brawler - Tracey's unconscious body right beside them. Daphne nowhere to be found.

Harry took the opportunity, dashing towards Vane, he reached her and jammed his wand into her stomach. "CONFRINGO!" She went flying across the room, holding her middle as she screamed in pain, Harry hoped that would be enough to take her out completely. And given just by the growing red stains that started to form where he had cursed her, that seemed to be the case.

"LOOK OUT!" Theo shouted, leaping towards Harry, dropping with him to hide behind the couch as he placed a shield charm on top of them.

"Took you long enough," Harry grumbled before peering out and launching cover fire to keep Sanchez, Goldstein, and Montague busy.

"Be grateful I even decided to come and save your sorry arse," Theo snapped, a hint of something in his eye betraying the lack of any real anger behind that statement. "What do we do with this?" He raised the wand he had just taken from the older Davis girl.

Harry snatched it out of his hands and threw it somewhere near the fireplace, on the complete opposite side of the room. "Problem solved. Now focus on the ones that actually have wands!"

"I don't think I'll be able to hold the shield for longer," Theo struggled out.

"Lift it and run!"

"CONFRINGO! CONFRINGO!" Harry shouted, aiming it in Montague's general direction as he sped across the room.

There were only three older years left, it would be tight, but he could manage it. With Theo's help, he might even come out of this unscathed. Harry quickly evaded the two stunning charms sent his way before jumping over the leg-locker curse Montague launched.

"CONFRINGO!"

"PROTEGO!"

Montague blocked it, all but growling at Harry as he raised his wand. From the corner of his eye, Harry saw Sanchez preparing to launch a curse at him, so he ran to stand in between her and Montague.

"STUPEFY!"

Harry jumped out of the way.

"PROTEGO!" Montague parried the curse away. "Watch where you aim at, Sanchez!"

"WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA! DEPULSO!" Harry shouted, taking advantage of their bickering, before launched Montague's knife at his face. But with a harsh flick of his wand, the seventh-year managed to send it of route, forcing it to crash into the wall next to the dormitory stairs.

"STUPEFY!" Pansy shouted as she climbed up the stairs from her dormitory into the common room, followed by a cowering Daphne.

Montague, who had seen the girl just a few moments before she cast the spell, easily blocked it.

A fire ignited inside Harry as he saw Pansy charge into the room, wand blazing and defending Theo from Goldstein's attacks. Not only had Theo come to his help, but so had Pansy. After all the shit he'd given them over the past two weeks, they were here. He turned towards Montague, who was preparing to cast something at Pansy's back.

"CONFRINGO!"

Somehow, Montague had been able to see the curse coming and jumped out of the way. Fortunately, it had succeeded in stopping him from attacking Pansy. The girl turned towards him, giving him a quick nod before focusing back on her duel.

"You two take care of Sanchez and Goldstein!" He instructed. "CONFRINGO!" The curse hit true, striking the older Davis as she was sprinting for her wand on the other side of the room. "Montague's mine."

Harry was breathing heavily as he stared down Montague. Even though he'd managed to avoid being hit and had slowly but surely taken down his goons, he had wasted almost all of his energy on it, while Montague had barely broken a sweat.

For a moment, there was no one else in the room. Everything went quiet as they both bore at each other hatefully. In front of him was the man who had ruined his life. Who had destroyed any remaining hope for a childhood, who had tarnished his skin, betrayed him like no one before, who had tortured and maimed him. The cause of all his misery was standing right in front of him, and he would not throw away his shot to make him suffer just as badly as he had.

From deep within, a primal scream began rising from his throat until Harry released it, gripping his wand, ready to charge at the man. Montague reciprocated the scream, and in a moment, the pocket outside their universe where they were trapped was gone, and the surrounding battle raged back to normal.

"CRUCIO!"

"ACCIO WAND!"

Harry jumped over the curse, using all of his energy to run towards the centre of the room, where his wand was flying out of its holster.

"EXPULSO! CRUCIO! CONFRINGO!"

"REDUCTO!"

Harry's reducto managed to collide with the expulso curse, creating a large explosion in the centre that sent the other two curses in other directions. And before Montague could cast another curse, his 12 1/2'', sycamore, dragon heartstring wand was in his hand. A rush of energy hit Harry as the power from the wand hit him. It was intoxicating, all the barriers he felt from Blaise's wand, the feeling of it fighting against him, the hatred the wand had emitted at being wielded by another wizard, it was all gone. This wand was happy, more than willing to obey his will, encouraging doesn't begin to describe it.

Dropping the foreign wand and allowing himself to fully bask in the power from his own, Harry grinned.

"CONFRINGO!"

A massive, extremely bright, purple lightning flew across the room faster than any spell he'd ever cast. It impacted Montague's shield, one that he had set up before Harry had managed to regain his wand, immediately shattering it. The boy was shot backwards like a bullet, hitting the wall besides the stairs that led to the dormitories before crashing back down to the ground. His wand had been completely dislodged from his hand, clattering on the ground, far away from Montague.

The boy looked at him, panic clear in his face, and Harry sauntered towards him. "REDUCTO!"

"AHHHHHHHHHHH!" A chilling scream left the boy's throat as his whole leg completely shattered. The bone was twisted and clear for everyone to see, bits of muscles and blood had flown everywhere, and his knee had completely removed from the lower part of his leg. The boy whimpered in fear and agony as he held on to what remained of his right leg.

"ACCIO KNIFE!"

"Harry STOP!" He heard Pansy's voice, but didn't care. He could feel his thirst for revenge pumping in and out of his heart. He wasn't going to show mercy. Not now, not ever. But he wanted to enjoy this a bit longer.

The knife slapped loudly into his hand, and Harry immediately impaled Montague's other leg with it.

"AHHHHHHHH!"

"Stings, doesn't it?" Harry asked nastily, pulling at the knife with all the strength he had, tearing it through his leg.

"Harry, you're gonna kill him!" Theo shouted, but Harry didn't care.

"Clavus!" A large, brown looking nail was ejected from his wand, stabbing at Montague through his hand before forcing itself on the floor and trapping it. He repeated the process so that the other was also pinned down.

"You gave me a gift," he said simply, bringing the knife up to his head. "Allow me to return the favour."

"Harry, don't do it!" Both Theo and Pansy shouted, and from the corner of his eye, Harry could see Pansy reading her wand.

"PROTEGO!" A large, invisible barrier separated him and Montague from the others.

"You idiot! If you kill him, it'll alert the wards! Dumbledore will know instantly!" Pansy pleaded.

"I don't need to kill him to make him pay," Harry said emotionlessly.

"HARRY DON'T!"

But it was too late. Carefully, Harry stabbed the knife into the edge of Montague's jaw. Deep enough for it to leave a good enough mark, but not enough to fatally hurt him. Or, at least, Harry hoped it didn't. He wanted to hear him scream so much more.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHH! PLEASEE! STOPP! I'LL DO ANYTHING, JUST STOP!"

"No."

Harry pulled the knife upwards, carving a long line that extended all the way up to the upper-left corner of his forehead before going down to the dead centre of his face.

"AHHHHHHHHHH!"

The sound of his screams was music to Harry's ear, and even though he could see as Pansy and Theo, Daphne, Draco, and Blaise tried to overpower his shield, to tear it down, so they could interrupt him, he didn't care. They would never manage it in time.

The line went above his eye and up his nose, before he traced a mirror figure of what he had just done.

Montague's screams eventually stopped, and Harry figured he had finally damaged his vocal cords to the point where he couldn't scream anymore. But even as he shook violently in the ground, weeping and sobbing, Harry didn't stop his task. And before he could even finish it, the seventh-year had fully passed out. It wasn't until a large open wound in the shape of an M was clear for everyone to see. Just like he was cursed to wear the scar for the rest of his life, now so was Montague. Except that he wouldn't be able to hide it.

Harry looked at his hands, filled with blood and sweat, and he smiled.

Finally… retribution.

He turned towards the other five Slytherins, who were gaping at him, all of them horrified by what he had done. Their gazes shifting from Montague's face to Harry's back, all of them conflicted about what they had witnessed in the past fifteen minutes.

Harry sighed and waved his wand (causing the others to flinch), dismantling the shield. Pansy immediately rushed over to Montague's side, ignoring his wounds as she checked his neck before casting various spells on him.

Harry stared blankly at the spot behind the group of Slytherins, a small smile appearing on his face. A part of him worried how sadistic and evil he had become to smile after maiming someone, but another part of him, the one in charge currently, decided to ignore it.

Theo knelt down in front of him, his gaze studying Harry's face carefully. His eyes kept flicking between Montague, his back, and his face, before a smile (or what Harry thought was supposed to be a smile, even though it looked like a grimace) settled on his face. "You okay?"

Theo wasn't looking at him like he was a monster. He wasn't afraid of him, or acting as if he was any different to the person he was earlier that night. There wasn't pity in his eyes - only understanding and acceptance. Harry couldn't help his heart rise to his throat.

"Doing better."

"Doing better!?" Pansy almost shrieked. "You're lucky that moron is still alive, Harry Potter, otherwise I would've killed you myself! What the fuck were you thinking!?"

"That it had to end." Harry said roughly, standing up and challenging her glare. "This - all of this. I was thinking that if I didn't finish it properly, Montague would come back for round three! I was thinking about how he needed to pay for what he did to me! Don't act as if you weren't staring at my scar like I'm some sort of monkey at a zoo!"

"You… you imbecile!" She cried out. "I don't give a fuck that you finally put this arsehole in his place! I don't even care that you were just as vindictive as he was! I'm not some bloody Hufflepuff! But you - you blithering idiot! You used the knife! The cursed knife! And marked him in the only place he can't hide it! Pomfrey and Umbridge will recognise the use of dark magic immediately, and they'll contact the Aurors! Your stupid, idiotic need for revenge just did what Umbridge herself couldn't do!

"You've brought the Aurors to Hogwarts, Potter." Pansy snarled. "And the first thing they'll focus on doing is determining who was the moron that almost killed Graham Bloody Montague!"

And that's it for this chapter! I hope you enjoyed it :)

This chapter marks the end of the Halloween arc, and basically of what I consider the Prologue section of this fic. The main pieces are mostly all in place, I can finally play around, and the events in this chapter are basically the inciting incident for everything we'll see from now on!

Be excited about the next arc that starts next chapter, the whole thing will be titled How To Get Away With Murder! ;)

As always, thank you for reading, favouriting, and commenting! I appreciate all of you! :)

I've decided to open my own discord server! Please, feel free to join using the following link: discord . gg / jyPfbGqhJT