Welcome back all, to another chapter of "Bad Moon Rising" in which we find out what happens after Voldemort visits the Dursleys and Harry has a heart-to-heart with someone who understands.
Chapter edited by Politically Problematic Prose Pundit
On with the show.
Scáthach, November 1st.
The door to the office of the Defensive Arts teacher opens, but instead of leading to Scáthach's office within the school, it opens to the crimson haze of the Gate of Skye. Scáthach steps through the twisted red mist as she runs a brush through her hair with a content smile on her lips. After her dance with Severus last night she had left the celebration to meet up with Manannán for a promised fight and other vigorous activities that had them both busy late into the night and much into the early morning. Thankfully, morning classes were canceled and she only had one afternoon class that didn't start until two in the afternoon, which left her an hour before she had to be ready for anything.
Scáthach sighs as she places her brush down on her desk. "Cú," she calls out and doesn't have to wait long before her hound pulls itself from the nearby shadows before a low growling can be heard from him. "Do you mind going to go get her, she should be leaving charms right now," Scáthach tells her hound before he barks once in the affirmative while diving back into the shadows.
Knowing her hound and how much her castle liked the girl, Scáthach knew it would only be a few minutes before the girl got to her. With plenty of time to distract her guest, she turns to her office door before leaning against her desk. She doesn't have to wait long to see Manannán step from the Gate of Skye before the crimson mist vanishes. He stops before her with a smile while holding Fragarach by its scabbard. Fragarach is a powerful weapon and one of the few things on the island that is as deadly as her spear. Coupled with Manannán's skill with a blade it made for a worthy challenge for her every time Manannán would draw it against her.
"Do you have class later on?" The sea god asks as he begins to loop his belt around his waist.
"Yes, my seventh years are learning about some of the more dangerous curses that spread slowly over time and how to identify them," Scáthach tells him with a nod of her head. Manannán simply nods back, a giving god he was, but he was no teacher. He was a warrior and king, not a scholar, but he always showed respect to Scáthach passions and loves.
Manannán walks up to Scáthach and pulls her into an embrace before kissing her on the cheek. "Thank you for such a wonderful night, Lady Scáthach," he says with a boyish grin that Scáthach couldn't help but return.
"And thank you, King Manannán, for joining me in it," Scáthach says before leaning forward to return the kiss on the cheek before they break their embrace and he steps back. "Are you heading back to Tír Tairngire?" Scáthach asks as she moves around her deal to take her seat.
"I'm afraid so," Manannán says with a sigh before walking forward and leaning against the desk. "While this was a nice break, there is still much to be done," he says with a frown on his face. "While the Romans had respected the souls of our people and delivered them to the Lands of Promise, they had no authority over them to run it as it should and with…" He says before a look of pain overtakes his face, his eyes distance for a moment before he sighs. "And with Fand sleeping, there was no one to keep it stable. Its fall into disrepair was inevitable," Manannán says.
Scáthach's heart aches over the painful look on Manannán's face, he was perhaps her closest friend among the Dé Danann and the one she had chosen as a lover all those years ago with the blessing of sweet Fand. The Queen of Tír Tairngire was a gentle and loving soul who tended to the sleeping dead on the islands. Scáthach couldn't even begin to imagine the pain that Fand had suffered watching Tír Tairngire fall to ruins while she could do nothing but watch; though Scáthach could understand it with what happened to her school so long ago.
Scáthach could not blame her for incarnating into a mortal form to escape that very pain as well.
"Have you looked for her?" Scáthach asks the sea god as he turns to look out of a window in the classroom.
"Not as much as I would want to," Manannán admits before standing from the desk. "But it would take me years to search the mortal lands properly for Fand and to find her soul among the millions of souls would be a folly," he admits sadly with a sigh. "I will have to wait until she passes normally or she touches the seas around the islands, if she is on them, that is," he informs her.
Manannán continues to look out of the window for a few more moments before sighing once more. "I am surprised that you didn't incarnate while in Dún Scaith. You did have a bit more freedom than the rest of us did with the Romans sealing you inside of Dún Scaith and not sealing yourself like they did the rest of us," Manannán says before turning to look at Scáthach.
She looks away from him as soon as he turns and doesn't say a word as pain passes across her eyes. Manannán watches with concern for a moment but before he can speak a knocking happens at the door to the classroom.
"Come in," Scáthach says quickly to escape the subject of conversation as she looks towards the opening door that shows the blonde hair and wide misty blue eyes of Luna Lovegood.
"Good Afternoon, Professor Árd-Greimne. You wished to see-" Luna begins to say as she steps into the room, Cú following at her heels, but stops when she sees Manannán. Her face furrows in confusion as she looks at the sea god, her head tilting to the side as if she were trying to remember something. But she jumps at the sound of clattering that echoes throughout the room when Manannán drops The Fragarach to the ground in shock. Manannán turns and looks at Scáthach with disbelief and shock covering his face before he turns back to the girl who had just walked into the classroom. Manannán takes slow, careful steps toward the girl before kneeling in front of her on a single knee with tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.
Luna tilts her head at the man now looking at her in the eyes, frustration painted on her face as she does. "I know you," she murmurs before shaking her head, "No, that's not quite right, I feel as if I know you but from where?" she asks as her eyes narrow and she looks away from the man searching for the memories she feels that should be there. But the man raises his hand and places it on her cheek, drawing her attention to the now to see him smiling so happily before her as she leans into his hand.
"No, little one, it is folly to try to remember something you can not recall," Manannán tells her calmly and with a smile. "For the waters of Tír Tairngire wash away all memories when a soul passes through them, but your feelings do not lie to you, for I know you as if you were a part of my very being, even if you can not recall me," he says with a soft smile.
Luna raises her hands and places them on the man's cheeks and watches as he closes his eyes in comfort as he drops his own. To Luna, it was a familiar action, one she knew was right but not why it was right. "It is rather frustrating to feel as if you know someone even if you do not, like a memory you know is yours but have no right to," She tells the man who chuckles warmly at her words before opening his eyes.
Manannán gathers the girl's hands in his own hands with a smile. "Tell me little one, what is your name?" he asks and watches as the girl smiles.
"My name is Luna, Luna Lovegood," She introduces herself with a smile and a tilt of her head.
"It is good to meet you again, Luna," Manannán says with his own smile to match the one of the girl's. "I am Manannán Mac Lir, and I am more than ecstatic to meet you once more and to see you safe," he says to the girl.
"Though I do not remember it, it is also nice to meet you again for the first time Lord-" Luna says only for Manannán to hold a finger to her lips with a small smile and a shake of his head.
"No, little Luna, I am not lord or king to you, never to you," Manannán tells the now confused-looking girl. "We are equals in Tír Tairngire and I count you as an equal even in this form. I am only Manannán to you," he tells Luna and the girl nods at his words with a smile before he pulls his hand back.
"Does this mean you're going to whisk me away somewhere?" Luna asks Manannán with a tilt of her head. "Because while I feel happy to see you once more, I do not know if I would want that, for I very much enjoy my life here," she tells him with a firm nod of her head.
Manannán throws his head back with a laugh. "No, my dear little moon," he tells her with a smile. "You chose to have this dream and so I will respect that, and will let you finish this dream without interfering with it. For I expect you to live this life to the fullest, so when you do return to Tír Tairngire you can tell me all about it," Manannán says with a large smile that is matched by the small girl in front of him.
"But before you set out on this next great adventure, I would be remiss to not pass along a few gifts to you, my little moon," Manannán tells Luna to the girl's confusion.
"I don't need anything, Manannán. Daddy makes sure I'm well taken care of," Luna tells Manannán before tilting her head as if she were thinking of something. "Unless it's paint, I never seem to have enough paint supplies," she says with a sigh before turning back to Manannán with a dreamy smile.
Manannán chuckles at her words. "Well, my little moon, while I can not give you any paint supplies," Manannán says, pausing to smile at the disappointed look on Luna's face, "I can, however, give you something better," He tells her as Luna perks up.
"Oil paints?" She asks with wide eyes.
"My blessings," Manannán says as the mortal outfit bleeds away to reveal his true godly armor. Mists begin to gather and swell in the room as they gather to the sea god's back to form his cloak that takes Luna under its sanctuary. "First, I give you my blessing of protection. So long as you are by my realm, know no harm will ever come to you, for you are protected by the seas themselves," he tells Luna before leaning forward to kiss Luna on her right cheek, making her giggle.
"The next is my blessing of generosity," Manannán tells Luna as he pulls back from the first kiss. "Know that you will never know a time of need, for if a time comes when you need something, it will find you. For the seas provide to all those it loves," he says before leaning forward to plant another kiss on Luna's left cheek, making the girl smile.
Manannán pulls back once more with a smile on his face. "This is where we part my little moon until you awaken on Tír Tairngire once more," he says with sadness in his eyes.
Luna raises her hand and once again places it on the cheek of the sea god with her own sad smile. "Then I will look forward to seeing you there, Manannán," Luna says before stepping forward and wrapping the sea god in a hug that Manannán returns.
They embrace for a long moment before separating and Manannán stands. "Now go, my little moon, and enjoy this life and fill it with wonderful tales so you may tell me all about them when next we meet," he tells Luna before she nods once before turning to see Scáthach standing by the classroom door with her own smile etched on her face with a pass in hand for her next class.
It was only after Luna left with her note explaining why she was late to Horace that Manannán turned to Scáthach with tears in his eyes. "Thank you, Lady Scáthach. I have no words that can truly express my gratitude for reuniting me with Fand, even if it was only for a few moments," Manannán says, his voice thick with emotions. "And to think she was even born in a form that shares blood with my blood. Grandma will be beside herself when she learns that," he says to mostly himself. "Name what you wish for and I will see it in your hands before this day is done, you have my word," he says with conviction, and Scáthach could tell from his words that he would hold true to them; even if it was the crown the Morrígan wore.
"I did not do this for a reward, Manannán," Scáthach tells him with a small smile. "I did it because when I first saw her I knew you would be looking for her and because you are both my friends," she says before walking up to the sea god and embraces him.
"Thank you," Manannán whispers to her once more but their tender moment is interrupted by another knock at the door, this time an unexpected one.
Scáthach sighs before breaking her embrace with Manannán. "Come in Minerva," she calls out before the door opens to reveal the stern witch with a deep frown set upon her lips.
"My apologies for disturbing you, Scáthach," Minerva says in a polite but troubled voice as she turns to look at Manannán before raising an eye at the sight of a knight in Hogwarts before turning to Scáthach once more. "But we have a bit of a situation, let's call it, with Harry," she says, causing Scáthach to frown before reaching out to the castle and what it knows. She finds out what Minerva is speaking about, for Minerva was informed of it not ten minutes ago by the Headmaster who had also called Sirius Black and Atalanta to the school.
Scáthach closes her eyes and sighs; this was going to end poorly.
Harry Potter, Potions class, Hogwarts, November 1st.
"Motherfucker," Harry hissed under his breath as he knocked over a jar of dried billywing stingers, again! Harry grits his teeth and tries to smother the anger that pulses just beneath his skin in tandem with his burning scar and throbbing headache but to no avail. He quickly picks up the potion ingredients before slamming the jar down making the few students around him jump. Harry didn't know what was wrong with him and just thanked whoever was in charge of small mercies that he was still cut off from the Hunt because for some fucking reason he had woken up on the wrong side of every bed ever.
Harry lets out an aggravated sigh before turning back to his potion book, ignoring the concerned look that Hermione was shooting at him from her small table as he reads the instructions in the book. Fifth-year potions were about the enhancement type of potions such as Wit-Sharpening and Strengthening that work as a prelude to healing potions in the sixth-year which, Harry thought, he was doing fine in until this afternoon. His Invigoration Draught was a shade or two off during six out of ten steps and Harry couldn't for the life of him figure out why, but to his luck, the teaching aid had stopped to check his work.
Gemma Farley was a tall brunette with dark green eyes and a slightly cracked nose that had graduated during Harry's second year and was one of the fairer Slytherin prefects that had held her house to a higher standard during her time at the school. She had gone on to apply for a Potions Mastery and somehow got accepted back to Hogwarts to work under her former head of house.
Which was honestly doing wonders for Snape's temper.
Gemma peers over the top of Harry's cauldron with a slight frown on her face as she angles her head from the rising vapors. "It's a bit off-color, Mister Potter," she tells him before making a note on the clipboard she was carrying. "It should be a light blue during stage six, you are on stage six, yes?" she asks Harry who grits his teeth and nods as his head throbs once more.
Gemma sighs a bit as she purses her lips and turns toward where Snape was stalking around the class checking over other students. He had just finished slapping something out of Crabbe's hand with a glare as Gemma called out to him. "Professor Snape, a moment please?" she says before Snape turns and looks at who she is standing with before scowling. Snape sends one last glare at Crabb before making his way over.
"What has the brat done now?" Snape says with a scowl as he walks up. "Hasn't melted his cauldron again has he?" he says evenly.
"I haven't done that in two years," Harry says with a frown and a slight glare at Snape.
"That would be ten points for the back chat, Potter," Snape snaps at him as his black eyes burn into Harry's green and Harry grinds his teeth wanting nothing more than to break Snape's nose.
"Well, sir," Gemma says, drawing Snape's attention back to her, "Mister Potter's potion isn't the right shade and he's on step six. It should have set by now into a light blue but it's bluer than anything else," she tells the Professor before Snape leans over Harry's workspace with a frown. Snape reaches out and grabs Harry's ladle before stirring the potion, pulling up a bit of the potion and pouring it back into the cauldron.
Snape looks over at Gemma after putting the ladle down. "Potter more than likely ground his billywing stingers too fine, like a fool," the Potion Master says without even turning to look at Harry.
"Will that affect the final product?" Gemma asks as she quickly takes out a self-inking quill and begins to make a note on a separate piece of parchment.
"The potion will lose some of its potency and become a bit thicker, but otherwise no, the final product will be stable," Snape informs her before turning back to Harry. "The best way to fix his mistake is to simply add a little water during the next stirring step to loosen the potion up," he informs both Harry and Gemma, the latter making a quick note about it and the former nodding.
As Snape opens his mouth again, no doubt to take away points for not following his instructions, there is a knock at the door that puts the potion master's face into a tight scowl. "Enter," He calls out with a glare at the door, to no doubt lambast the person behind it with insults for disturbing his class. But his scowl quickly drops as the door opens to reveal Scáthach on the other side.
"Lady Scáthach," Snape greets with a formal bow of his head.
"My apologies, Severus, for disturbing your class but I've come to collect Harry on the headmaster's order," Scáthach informs Snape. Her voice is soft but curt as she steps into the room, her normal soft smile nowhere to be seen.
"But of course, my lady," Snape says quickly enough before folding his hands behind his back. "Am I to assume he will be gone for the rest of the class?" he asks politely and watches Scáthach nod once before turning to Harry. "Well, Potter, you heard her," He snaps at Harry, causing the boy to grind his teeth as he watches Snape turn and vanish his potion, no doubt giving him a failing grade for the day.
It doesn't take Harry long to pack away his things and leave with Scáthach. Harry could almost feel the curious looks of Hermione and Ron on his back as he and Scáthach walked out of the room. "What does the Headmaster want?" Harry asks as he adjusts his book bag on his shoulder, But Scáthach doesn't answer him as she leads up from the dungeons and up the Grand Staircase. Harry soon realizes that she walked past the third-floor landing. "Umm, teacher? We just-" Harry begins to say but Scáthach cuts him off.
"We are going to Minerva's office, not the Headmaster's," Scáthach says softly, confusing Harry.
Harry frowns as anger prickles under his skin as raw and ravaging as it had been all day. "Well, why the fuck not? Isn't this on his orders?" Harry asks tensely.
"Yes, but he doesn't wish to be involved," Scáthach says, her tone flat and emotionless. As if she didn't care one way or another if Dumbledore was involved or not.
Harry could feel the vein throbbing in his head as his anger grew. "I don't even know why I'm surprised, the old goat hasn't done anything himself ever since I started coming to Hogwarts. Always leaving it up to me in the end, probably hoping I'd die or something," Harry says harshly with scorn in his voice. So much so that Scáthach stops and turns to Harry with a raised brow.
"Are you okay, Greaca?" Scáthach asks and Harry almost snaps at her before his scar throbs painfully, causing him to flinch.
"I'm fine," Harry says in almost a growl as he pushes past Scáthach to continue down the hall. Missing the concern that flashes in Scáthach's eyes before she follows behind him. It would be several more minutes before they entered McGonagall's office. The office was of course decorated in red and gold, marking it as the office of the Matron of the House of Lions. The large mahogany desk dominates the room as portraits of older heads of Gryffindor sit on the walls as the tick-tock tick-tock of the antique grandfather clock that sat next to an open window that looked over the front of the school grounds could be heard echoing in the room as the fireplace stands empty standing out in abstract of it's normally roaring fire.
McGonagall was sitting at her desk leaning back in a high-back red leather with scrolled arms with a dark look on her face which immediately cleared as she looked up to see Harry and Scáthach enter the room. But to Harry's surprise, she wasn't the only one in the room. Sirius was sitting on one of the chairs that sat before the desk which was almost identical to the one McGonagall sat in; though a bit smaller. Atalanta was also there, leaning against the door that led into the Transfiguration classroom. Her foot bounced up and down as her arms crossed over her chest as if she was waiting for something to happen.
Atalanta and Sirius turned to the door that led into the corridor that Harry and Scáthach entered from. Both looked unsure, but still managed weak smiles toward Harry that spoke of soft support and love that caused Harry's stomach to drop with the certainty something had happened. As Harry's eyes rake over the room taking everything in, Scáthach steps around him and with long strides makes it to the window facing the school grounds before looking out upon them.
"Mister Potter," Professor McGonagall says, catching Harry's attention. "Please, come take a seat," she says with a soft pleading voice as Harry takes one more look around the room.
"Am I in trouble?" Harry asks slowly before slipping off his book bag and placing it by the door before slowly walking over to the second empty seat.
"No, Mister Potter, you're not in trouble," McGonagall says before she gestures to the other seat. "Please, have a seat, Mister Potter," she says. Harry scowls a bit before taking the seat and looks between her and Sirius. But before Harry could once again ask what was going on, McGonagall speaks up. "Tea?" she asks.
"Wha-" Harry says, confused for a moment before his manners kicked in. "Ah, yes please," he says before McGonagall calls out to her house-elf, Tilly, for tea. With a soft pop, a fully loaded tea tray for five appeared on her desk. In a few short minutes, Harry had a cup of tea in hand and far more questions than anything else. But finally, McGonagall begins to speak.
"Mister-Harry," McGonagall begins with a professional tone before pausing and switching to a much softer tone. "It is my duty as your head of house to inform you of anything that happens beyond these walls that… could affect you," she says, pausing for a moment to choose her word carefully. "So, it is in that duty that I have to tell you at around two in the morning last night, number four Privet Drive caught fire. There…," McGonagall says before sighing. "There were no survivors," she tells Harry softly, looking at him with concern in her eyes; much like everyone else in the room.
Harry sits in the red leather chair looking at McGonagall with a blank face. He blinks, once, twice, before taking in a long and shaky breath. "By-by no survivors, you-you mean-," Harry says slowly before cutting himself off. His mouth opens and closes but no words come out, he feels numb all over as his hands begin to shake.
McGonagall looks over to Sirius for a moment before turning back to Harry. "I mean that your aunt and uncle, Vernon and Petunia Dursley were discovered in the remnants of the home. The cause of death at this time is believed to be smoke inhalation. They were found in the only thing left standing after the blaze. The cupboard under the stairs," She tells him softly, before jumping slightly as the teacup that Harry was holding crashes to the ground; shattering.
Harry clenches his hands to stop them from shaking for little that it did. He takes a deep breath and lets it out shakily before his eyes clenched shut. "Du-Dudley, my-my cousin, is he-w-was he…," Harry says trying to fight against the trembling in his voice. He can't get the words out, he wasn't allowed to ask questions and that old rule came showing its ugly head at the worst of times.
Harry feels Sirius' hand grip his shoulder in a show of support before McGonagall speaks. "He was found on the front lawn, he was unresponsive and announced dead on the scene," She said softly, and Harry nodded.
"It-It was him wasn't it?" Harry asks quietly but before McGonagall can say anything, Harry already knows the answer. He could hear the lock slipping back, the creak of the floorboards, the scream of Aunt Petunia.
McGonagall is quiet for a moment looking at the shaking boy in the seat across from her. "Yes," She finally says and watches as the boy quickly knocks over the chair as he stands. He shakes more as McGonagall continues. "There were signs of ambient dark magic in the ruins of the house, the Headmaster believes that-that he went there to gather information on you," McGonagall says with a frown, not wanting to lie to the boy she had come to care for.
"He tortured them, didn't he?" Harry asks and the answering silence is all he needs to hear to know as his shaking becomes worse.
Petunia, Vernon, and Dudley were dead, and Voldemort killed them.
This thought rolled around in Harry's head as his body was shaking, though he could not say why. Was he angry at the death of his abusers because he wasn't the one who killed them? He had never even considered it until that day just a few months ago when he ran into Vernon in the Tesco. Was he mad because Voldemort had finally robbed him of the last of his blood family? He had never stopped calling them his aunt, uncle, or cousin no matter what they had done to him. Harry's hands ran through his hair as he felt once more of being robbed of something he didn't quite understand settle into his guts. He could hear Atalanta telling him to control it, to not let the hunt win. Sirius wants to step closer, but Atalanta yells at him to stop, that it is dangerous. McGonagall asks him if he is okay, instructing him to take deep breaths, to let it all out.
But Harry does none of it, his breaths come faster and faster as he clamps his eyes shut and presses his hands over his ears to stop the screaming-always-screaming of Aunt Petunia. He could hear her begging, begging for the monster to stop, begging for forgiveness from Lily for what she had done to the boy she had died for; for the boy who shared her eyes.
"I am no Wixen. They are to me, as you are to them," the woman says with burning amber eyes.
"Did you hit my SON!?" She screams, eyes full of wrath and perdition.
"There goes Petunia Evans, the fool who crossed Artemis," she says in a hard whisper with the promise of divine retribution if her words were not heeded.
The Monster knew who his mother was now.
The Monster knew he was a demigod.
There was no way he didn't know now. He had tortured the Dursleys for information about him and they had told the monster all about the boy in the cupboard. So the monster had sent him a message only he would understand. "I'll see you at home," Lucius had told him outside of the courtroom. Harry never even considered the Dursleys because it was never a home to him.
His aunt, uncle, and cousin were all dead because of him. Harry lets out a scream before turning and lashing out with a kick that connects with the chair behind him and sends it flying into the wall. Atalanta swiftly jumps out of the way as the chair shatters against the wall before Harry turns on his heel and wrenches open the door to the transfiguration corridor, slamming it open before leaving.
"Fuck, Harry wait!" Atalanta calls out as she tries to follow her little brother with Sirius right behind her calling out for Harry as well, right before the door to the office slams shut and locks itself. Atalanta slams into it before grabbing the handle and trying to unlock the door before a soft voice speaks.
"Stop," Scáthach says softly, causing everyone else in the room to turn to look at the goddess, who still hadn't turned around but had an arm raised. "The Greaca needs time. Time to sort through his feelings, time to understand them. What he's feeling right now is complicated," she tells them before dropping her hand and hearing McGonagall scoff.
"Complicated is the least of it," McGonagall says, sitting back down in her seat after standing when Harry had kicked the chair. "And I mean no disrespect Scáthach but I doubt the boy even knows what he is feeling because I can barely fathom it myself." She says with a shake of her head. "The boy just learned his abusers are dead, the last of his blood family even if there was no love there, killed by the same hand that robbed him of his parents and sent him to them in the first place. Complicated is putting it simply, I'd wager," she says softly, her own eyes glassy with tears she wanted to shed for the young boy.
"Lady Scáthach, Harry is a danger when he's like this," Sirius begins to explain to the goddess across the room.
"Sirius is right, the Hunt reacts to emotions. If it gets a foothold in-" Atalanta begins to continue where Sirius had started but is swiftly cut off by Scáthach.
"The Greaca is cut off from the Hunt, Atalanta, it won't be a problem," Scáthach says simply before Atalanta just stands in the room looking at the back of the Goddess, her jaw opening and closing in clear confusion.
"But- no, that's not- how did you-" Atalanta says in shock.
Scáthach doesn't answer her as she continues to look out over the grounds with a blank face. No one notices how tight her hands clenched at how they discussed the last of Harry's blood family dying.
Hogwarts Owlery, an hour later.
Harry had come to the only place he knew he would be left alone to think. While the nagging want for a cupboard had twisted in his mind he had ignored it, he didn't want to hide away in a place he swore that he would never go back to, not when sorting through things about them. So he had come to the owlery for the peace and quiet that he would find here among the napping and snoozing owls. He cleaned the place up as he always did when he visited and if sensing his turmoil, Hedwig had immediately come to him, sitting on his shoulder as she leaned against him hooting softly to him. Trying to comfort him as he sat in the horizontally barred window looking out over the grounds of Hogwarts.
Harry was searching his memories, shifting through them trying to find one of the Durserlys ever being nice to him. That they did something for him that they weren't forced or did out of their selfish desires.
Only one had come to mind.
It was the morning after he had returned to Privet Drive after he went shopping for Hogwarts with Hagrid. He had woken up early as usual to cook breakfast and had walked into the kitchen to find his aunt sitting at the kitchen table, glaring down at a cup of tea. Harry had gone to walk over to the fridge to pull out what he needed to cook before Aunt Petunia spoke.
"Sit," she snapped her order at him, freezing Harry for a moment before he moved to the kitchen table and sat down across from her, not daring to look up and into her eyes. "Nothing is going to change, boy, no matter if you go to that freak school or not," she had told him and all Harry could do was nod his head; for he had already known that.
"You are to do your chores, you are to listen to us, and not ask questions," she had told him in a hard, low voice that he could only nod to. "If you can actually make it to September first without cocking up those simple things, I will have Vernon take you to Kings Cross that morning," she tells him to which he could only nod, never looking up to look his aunt in the eyes. "And remember, no one is going to help you, so what happens in this house, stays in this house. If you can manage that, I will forget to tell Vernon that you're not allowed to use magic outside that freak school. Do you understand?" she asks him.
"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry answered automatically, almost robotically.
Aunt Petunia had kept her word that day. She had talked Uncle Vernon into taking him to Kings Cross and never mentioned that Harry wasn't allowed to use magic outside of school until Dobby had shown up at their home and bollocksed that up.
Out of everyone that Harry thinks he should hate, the Dursleys are always at the top of the list. Voldemort, Wormtail, Aphrodite, Macha, and the Morrígan all didn't hold a candle to the roaring bonfire that was the eleven years he had spent with the Durselys. The starvation, the punishments, the screaming, and the cupboard that haunted Harry to this day had left scars on him physically, mentally, and emotionally that none of the others couldn't even hope to compare to. But for some fucked up and twisted reason, he had always hoped that one day he would see remorse in the Dursley's eyes for what that had done to him. Even if he ended up never speaking to them after that, never seeing them again, just once he had hoped that he could get to tell them how he felt about what they did to him.
But now he couldn't because Voldemort had killed them, and he never would.
Harry didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry as he realized that, so he did neither. As he sat with his legs dangling over the edge of the window that sat four stories up, unsure of what to do, he heard the door to the owlery open behind him.
"Tycho, get your feathery butt-" the familiar voice of Delphini Lestrange calls out to her Augury with a smile in her voice. She cuts herself off as Harry turns to look at her, blinking in surprise at the boy. "Fuck Pot-Head, who dropkicked your puppy?" She asks as soon as she sees the look on his face as she slips something into her pocket before walking over to him.
Harry doesn't answer as he turns back to look over the Hogwarts grounds. Delphini frowns at his actions, she knows that Harry is one to brood and constantly makes fun of his eternal grumpy butt for it but he would normally snap back with a quip to defend himself. But Harry doesn't make a quip nor does his normal grumpy glare when she makes comments about it. So, Dephini does what she always does with Harry: she inserts herself to be a bigger problem than the problem he is dealing with.
"Scoot," Delphini orders as she sits down beside him, causing Harry to turn to her with a glare. "Oh, glare all you want Pot-Head, we both know you're not gonna do anything to me, so scoot," she says and her lips quirk at the sight of Harry scooting over still glaring at her. She slides into the window next to him with her legs dangling from the window just like his. Harry turns back to look over the grounds of Hogwarts with a sad and grumpy look on his face. "Come on Pot-Head, what's wrong?" she asks with a smile at him as she places her arms over one of the thick metal bars in the window.
Harry is quiet for a long moment before asking his own question. "Who was it for you?" Harry asks, not looking back at Delphini.
"Guy who gave me a few free tattoos before showing up here last year," Delphini says without pause with a grin and a slight blush as Harry turns to her looking confused.
"What?" Harry asks, his face scrunched up.
"Were you not asking about…" Delphini begins to say trailing off as Harry looks even more confused. "Never mind that, but I'm gonna need a bit more context here, what do you mean by who?" Delphini asks with a tilt of her head.
Harry pauses for another moment frowning for most of it."The people you lived with before the Malfoys, or at least I'm guessing that," Harry says before mumbling the last part.
"Oh," Delphini says before looking over the grounds of Hogwarts. The oh echoed around the owlery like a gunshot and more was said with those two little letters than some could say in a whole book to Harry. It spoke of something that she wanted to be forgotten and never spoke about again, and Harry understood that. He was the same in that way, he didn't like talking about what happened at the Dursleys either. Harry thought that she wouldn't answer him, and he didn't blame Delphini for that, but after a few moments, Delphini let out a shaky breath before she spoke.
"Her name was Euphemia Rowle and she was a noxious old cunt," Delphini says with no little amount of venom in her voice. "I came into her care about a year-ish before the head snake got himself blown up by you. My dad, Rodolphus Lestrange, hid me away with her and gave her a small mountain of gold to look after me; even made her take an unbreakable vow to look after me," she explains before leaning back on the palms of her hands.
"But more the fool to him, Rowle only agreed to make sure I was raised with the pure-blood belief and had a place to call a home," Delphini says as she shakes her head at her father's stupidity. "And she fulfilled those requirements to the letter of the vow, but not the spirit. I had a place to call home but she made sure I never saw it as such. She made sure to raise me on pure blood ideas, but express them in a way that made me never want to think the same way," she says with a sigh.
"When did she start, ya know," Harry asks, not wanting to give voice to the words.
"I was six, I think, when she started to raise me like I deserved," Delphini says in a mocking voice that Harry was sure mimicked Rowle's own voice in a parody. "Started small, yelling, screaming, name-calling, that sort of thing, then she started to-" Delphini says before Harry finishes for her.
"Throw things?" He asks and Delphini just nods.
"She threw crystal bottles and wine decanters," Delphini says with a shake of her head.
"Teacups and frying pans for me," Harry says, causing Delphini to look over at him.
"No shit?" she asks and watches as Harry shrugs. "Well, at least the teacups weren't that bad," Delphini says, readjusting herself.
"They were normally full of hot tea," Harry says flatly, causing Delphini to flinch a bit.
"Well, fuck me, that has the crystal bottles beat," Delphini mumbles with a shake of her head.
"And the frying pans explain why I'm so good at dodging bludgers," Harry says, causing Delphini to snort out a laugh and him to smirk a bit.
"Good one Pot-Head," she tells him before nudging his leg with her own. "You got locked in a cupboard, right?" she asks and watches Harry stiffen and nod his head in a quick jerk. "She used to lock me in Tycho's cage outside and tell me every time he cried it was for my impending sticky end," she tells Harry with a sad smile. "Didn't matter if it was raining or snowing, if I acted up it was to the cage with me,"
"With no food," Harry says.
"For a week," Delphini says after him as they both shake their heads.
"Before that, it was the belt or the sock and soap," Harry says darkly.
"Soak and soap?" Delphini asks, confused.
"Yeah, my uncle used to put a bar of soap in a tube sock and hit me with it. It would never leave a bruise but it still hurt like a bitch," Harry says as he glares across the lawns.
"Well, that's fucked," Delphini says after a moment of surprise, "Rowle was a fan of using the cruciatus curse to keep me in line. Never for long, but long enough for me to get the shakes afterward," Dephini admits in a hollow voice as Harry flinches at her words.
"I think you've got me beat there, my uncle and aunt were muggles so they couldn't do that," Harry says, but he is sure if they could use magic, they would in a heartbeat.
"Huh," Delphini says as she watches the shadow that was Tycho come flying back from the forest just before Hedwig takes off to join him. "Kinda weird that both Muggles and Wixen often think up the same cruel things to do to people," she tells Harry as she begins to watch the two birds fly together.
"I think that's just a human thing honestly," Harry says with a shrug as Delphini's face scrunches up at the thought before mentally awarding Harry a point for that argument. "What happened to Rowle?" Harry asks without looking over at Delphini but could feel her stiffen at the question. She was quiet for a long time after the question but Harry didn't pry, it really wasn't any of his business. But Delphini soon speaks, her answer not shocking Harry at all.
"I killed her," Delphini says in a whisper before she leans forward onto the metal bar with Harry, Harry turns his head to look at her. Her eyes had an empty, faraway look to them, with something like regret dancing in her eyes. "I cut her throat with a curse before cutting off her arm and breaking her leg. I stood on her chest and I watched her bleed out before freeing Tycho and setting the house ablaze," Delphini admits to Harry.
Harry was neither surprised nor repulsed. If anything, he understood. He had wanted to kill Vernon himself not too long ago, and thinking about it without the Hunt, he wasn't sure if his thoughts and wants would change. He wanted to kill Vernon and in some small way, he still did. Looking at Delphini he couldn't help the next question that slipped out of his lips. "What did it feel like?" Harry wants to know and in some twisted way, to live vicariously through Delphini's own words and revenge.
"Hollow," Delphini says, barely above a whisper in a flat dead tone. "I felt hollow. Even after dreaming of that day for years, of finally paying the old cunt back for everything she did to me, for every scar and moment I spent in the cold rain. I didn't feel anything but a hollowness that couldn't be filled," she admits with teary eyes downcast to the green lawns of Hogwarts before she wiped them away.
"Don't tell anyone, please," Delphini pleads in a whisper, and Harry nods.
"I won't," He tells her, understanding why she had done it. He leans forward to rest his forehead on his arms that were crossed over the metal bar. "Voldemort killed my aunt, uncle, and cousin last night," Harry tells Delphini, causing her to look at him in surprise.
"I won't say I'm sorry," Delphini says, her voice low and somber. "They deserved it for what they did to you, what they did to us," she says in a hard voice.
"No, they didn't," Harry says with a sigh without looking up. "I-I wanted to show them that they were wrong," he says as the corners of his eyes burn, but he stubbornly refuses to cry over them. "I wanted to show them that I would be better than them, better than what they thought of me, better than anything they told me I would end up like. I wanted them to see that they didn't break me. That I was stronger than the weak little boy that they used to starve and beat before locking him away like some unwanted thing. I wanted to show them I was better than them," Harry admits before wiping away the tears from his eyes. "But now I can't because now they're gone," he says in an angry whisper.
Delphini doesn't say a word but once again Harry's words strike a chord in her as she looks away from him. She had rebelled against everything that Rowle tried to beat into her for the simple fact that she never wanted to be like her. She wasn't ladylike, she detested dresses and robes, and she had piercings to show she would never bow to Rowle's will. Delphini understood what Harry was getting at, he didn't want bloody revenge like she had taken. No, he wanted to show how little the actions of his torments meant to him in the end. No matter what they had done to him, he grew stronger from it, not weaker.
Delphini smiles softly at the epiphany, taking a liking to it.
Harry turns to face Delphini, slightly captivated by her soft smile as the wind blows through the owlery just right to make her silvery-blonde hair blow in the breeze as the scent of bubblegum fills his nose. Harry hears the soft cries of doves somewhere as Hedwig and Tycho land on the bar above their heads. Harry Potter then decides to do something very brave and very foolish.
"Delphini," Harry says, catching the girl's attention, and as she turns her head to look at him, he is already leaning forward.
And their lips meet.
Delphini is surprised at first but quickly melts into the soft and sweet kiss from the wild and fierce boy. After a tender moment, they break apart before pressing their foreheads together and their noses centimeters apart. "I've been waiting for almost a year for that Harry," she says looking into the emerald eyes of the boy in front of her.
Harry smirks a bit. "Sorry for the wait," he says but it comes out more of a question as Delphini giggles.
Hoot! (Finally! They get on with it!)
Marwh! (I thought they were gonna dance around each other for much longer.)
Harry chuckles at the feathered friends just before turning to them, "Very funny, you two," he says with a mock glare at Hedwig and Tycho as Delphini openly laughs now.
"You had an odd way of reacting to kissing a cute girl, Pot-head," Delphini says with a small grin before it shifts into one that's more mischievous. "Say, aren't you supposed to be in class right now?" she asks.
"Oh, um, they let me out because of- you know," Harry says with a shrug.
Delphini nods before her smile begins to threaten to consume her face. "Goody," she says before standing up. "So, you're free until dinner, right?" she asks and watches as Harry nods, looking confused as she walks over to the door. "Well, that's good because this is my free period," She says as she opens the door and shoots Harry a coy smile. "And I was hoping to spend it in an empty classroom," she says with a wink before walking out.
Harry remains sitting with the same confused look for a moment or two before it hits him and he jumps up from the window and chases after Delphini. "Oi, wait for me!" He calls out after her and all he hears in return is Delphini's laughter guiding him deeper into a school for a private moment between the two.
Chapter done!
Stop! Before you comment something along the lines of how Harry wouldn't feel sad over the Dursley's deaths. You need to understand what Voldemort did in this.
He denied Harry closure.
Something that every person craves when they go through something as traumatic as what Harry had gone through.
And that, my readers, is the cruelest thing that Voldemort could have ever done to him.
I didn't want to kill Dudley because I am a huge fan of Dudley redemption arcs in fan fiction but Voldemort wasn't about to let the blood wards come into play again. So, Dudley died, at least it was quick.
Luna is Fand.
I found this idea beyond amusing, so I went for it. It's also something of a fan theory of mine, that mortals that are able to see through the mist are reincarnations of demigods.
I know I'm teasing the hell out of it, so I will tell you all now.
In two chapters we will find out about a connection between Scáthach and Harry.
Kingsaxcul, out!