Harry let out a frustrated sigh. He had read the potion book twice through, once owned by a pompously sounding Half Blood Prince. Growling, Harry flicked through the pages, wondering if he had stumbled into another failure.
/Not entirely, he admitted to himself tiredly, there were diamonds amongst the rough - just not as shiny as he had been led to believe. Half a dozen spells were crammed in the back of the book, apparently the owner's inventions - though he had no idea as of yet what each did.
Sighing again, Harry turned the page, where what had once been the chapter divider now sprawled a list of restricted potions. Polyjuice, Nightmare draught, Liquid deafness...useful indeed, but not the returns he had come to expect.
Tossing the book aside, Harry lay down in bed, closing his eyes and attempting to divert the approaching headache. The contraband and the book - too much effort for too little result. He needed to focus, start small and take practical steps.
He could not hope to triumph over both groups that sought his submission simply by chanting one great incantation or drinking a magic potion. Practical steps, practical steps. As he began to drift to sleep, he vowed to talk to Hermione tomorrow, and set up the Defense Group. Friends close and enemies closer.
Monday morning began as usual, breakfast in the great hall while ignoring the commotion around him. Ron had been growing surly again, no doubt due to the approaching quidditch match against Hufflepuff that he would not be partaking in.
Nonetheless, the trio made it to morning Transfiguration without heated words, and soon set about the day's assignment. Harry stifled a groan, Just how many quill-candlesticks does the world need? It was thus little surprise that Harry and Hermione were the first to finish the assignment. Having done so, Harry whispered, "I want to start the group - this week if you're ready."
Hermione beamed, pleased to see Harry so enthusiastic. "Of course Harry! Do you know who you want to invite - I found a great room to meet..."
"Miss Granger", the sharp voice of Professor McGonagall interrupted, "and Mr. Potter, you might consider using this time improve upon your base design." Mortified at being publicly chastised, Hermione turned a bright red, squeaking out "yes, professor." Harry merely nodded, and as soon as McGonagall turned her back hissed, "after class -your new room."
Hermione made no outward sign that she had heard, but after class immediately called out to Ron, telling him she and Harry had to show him something.
"Always the bloody last to know, aren't I?" The tone seemed harmless, but Harry recognized the beginning of aWeasley tantrum in the making. Fortunately, Hermione did to.
"Oh honestly! Harry only found out because I told him a few minutes ago! He hasn't even seen it yet." Ron grinned,"So /that's /what she was yelling at you lot about. Not very good is it Hermione - interrupting class." Hermione muttered incoherently, and the potential blow up was averted.
"Hermione...I don't think the /library/is the best spot for a dueling club." Harry drawled slowly. Ron tittered and Hermione huffed, "It's not the library we're interested in."
Harry raised an eyebrow, and Hermione slapped his arm. "Well...not right now anyway - there's a big room in the back - it used to be an inter-house common area before the house rivalries made it a futile effort...Anyway, I think it should work fine."
The room in question, while unused for some time was a good find nonetheless. Not as good as his Room of Desires, but Harry swore that he would maintain its secrecy no matter what. This particular place had enough space for thirty to forty students to comfortably move around.
Harry grinned, "Hermione, this is brilliant, great work!" He pulled a sheet of parchment from his pocket, "This is the list of people to invite, shall I leave it to you?"
It was, Harry thought, the easiest way to get Hermione to do something. Simply defer to her and she'd follow you every time. Suppressing a grin, Harry almost burst out laughing when Hermione exclaimed, "Oh Harry, I'm so proud of you. I know you don't like Zacharias but you're inviting him anyway..."
"What about me?" Ron exclaimed."I'm just as much a leader of this as you two!"
Harry wasn't sure whether to pity the idiot or sneer in contempt. This was his project, Hermione nothing more than an ignorant pawn! For now though, the boy needed to be pacified - another schism would only harm Harry. The things I put up with...
"Well Ron" Harry said slowly, as if speaking to a petulant child. "I thought you might prefer to be...a strategic advisor...put your chess skills to use yeh? As predicted, the gangly moron bought the argument with a smile and a bout of laughter that Harry partook in, if only to appreciate the irony of the situation.
"Well Harry, I thought I would send invitations with privacy charms by owl during dinner." Hermione interrupted, then frowning when she added, "of course, Zabini and Davis...perhaps you ought to talk to them personally, they might otherwise think it's a great joke."
Harry nodded, while Ron held his tongue, though obviously was bursting with reasons to not invite any snakes, no matter how detached from Malfoy they may seem. Harry ignored him, promising Hermione he would take care of it. Realizing the hour was almost up, the three headed towards Care of Magical Creatures, Harry relishing what had finally proved to be an easy first step.
That next day at breakfast Harry kept an eye on the owls, watching as Hannah, Ernie, Susan and Smith exchanged looks at the identical envelopes they had received. Turning his gaze towards the Ravenclaws, it appeared that they, ay least, were far sharper than their Hufflepuff counterparts - the Lovegood girl was staring directly at him, though her face revealed no clues as to what she was thinking. Cho was looking at him as well, raising an elegant eyebrow when he gave a tiny nod across the hall.
Harry thanked fortune that Gryffindor was naturally the loudest and most rambunctious of the houses, and thus it passed unnoticed when nearly a dozen of his housemates came by during breakfast to ask what the letter was about. Harry shrugged, saying they should come if they were interested. Hermione sat smugly, pleased with her success.
Harry looked to his side, resisting the urge to cringe. He had been forced for the sake of appearances to invite Ginny, a fact she was using in an attempt to get closer to him. Harry smiled, perhaps he could pair her up with Davis. Or Smith - everyone's a winner when those two duel...
"Bloody git...honestly who really cares about nonverbal spells." Ron muttered, as the three trudged towards Defense. "S'not as if it's any great surprise when the baddies start lobbing curses at you."
Without a second thought, Harry calmly stated, "/Silencio/", waving his wand slightly in Ron's direction in a lazy spiral. Ron's look of shock, followed by a mute /Finite, was well worth the joke. Hermione glared at Harry, removing the spell and saying"Well, Ron - as silly as that was I think you see the point."
Ron muttered about friends who agreed with greasy gits as the trio stumbled into the classroom.
The moment he crossed the threshold, Harry inwardly cursed. There at the front of the class besides Snape was Umbridge, in all her nauseatingly pink glory. A plastic smile plastered on her face, though her eyes betrayed her hatred for Harry as she watched him sit down and prepare for class.
"Potter, swaggering into class at the last moment as usual" Snape hissed, returning Harry's glare. "Ten points. If it isn't too much trouble Potter, we'll begin with a demonstration on sensory curses...Potter if you'd be so good to stand up."
Harry's expression was murderous, his mood further exacerbated by the look of glee coming from Umbridge. Standing up, Harry moved into the aisle, preparing for another wave of humiliation. How he itched to crucio the bastard...but he would wait. Allow his enemy to underestimate him. Patience...patience.
"/Alingua." /A pale blue bolt impacted softly into Harry's chest. "Potter is now unable to distinguish taste...even more so than usual," came what from Snape passed as teaching. Snickers erupted in the Slytherin half of the class, and Harry maintained arigid stance of rebellion, ignoring the fuzzy sensation in his mouth.
"Caecus" No surprises here you git, Harry glowered as he lost his sight. He ignored Snape's snarky comments, silently fuming until Snape removed the curses, returning rigidly to his seat and prepared to ignore the wheezing escaping Goyle.
"I find it surprising." A grating and breathy voice suddenly simpered, "That one so easily rendered helpless could claim to be an expert dueler." Harry's attention was ripped from his own thoughts at Umbridge's none-to-subtle dig.
"Excuse me, /High Inquisitor, /but nothing about that demonstration resembled a duel." Harry grounded out, rational thought disappearing momentarily in the face of growing fury. The ugly toad of a woman only smiled. "Respect, Mr. Potter - you lack it. Detention this evening, I think."
Fighting back the urge to maim her on the spot, Harry sat back down, furious with himself and the two adults before him. He would get them all, slow and steady be damned.
Harry ignored Ron and Hermione's attempts at support, focusing on finding a remedy for the current situation. He managed to pass word with Daphne that he wished to see Ophelia that afternoon, and passed on a similar message to Angelina. The round about way of doing so ground on Harry's last nerve, and he realized that even without a full 'mark', he needed a way to communicate with any of his followers. A thought for another day...
"Flint, Johnson, nice of you to show up" Harry snapped, causing both girls to flinch away. "I've used up all my Polyjuice - which of you two is capable of brewing it?"
The two girls shared a look, an amusing sight to see a Gryffindor and Slytherin acting in camaraderie, before they both looked at the ground. "Harry...Master - it's not taught. Neither of us have ever made it."
Harry trembled in rage, before taking a deep breath and speaking in a dangerously soft voice, "Hermione fucking Granger made the damned thing as a second year. Are you telling me the mudblood is more valuable than the pair of you? Are you that worthless?"
At this point Harry lost control, his voice becoming a harsh yell. "Nothing you have done Flint has been worth shit. You'd be more valuable as a whore, even as ugly as you are. Ophelia dared not look up, merely mumbling a quite "yes sir".
Harry paused, taking another breath. He had a mission for tonight, and hurling angry insults, satisfying as it may be, would do no practical good. His tone calmer, but no warmer, Harry continued, "Take this" hurling the Prince's book towards her. "It contains the recipe for Polyjuice. I don't care how you get the ingredients, but I swear Flint, you'll make enough Polyjuice to transform an army or I'll take what little you do make and sell you to a whorehouse, am I perfectly clear?"
Ophelia nodded, grateful when his gaze shifted to Angelina. "I'm not going to detention tonight - don't trust Umbrige. You are though - I assume you can glamour? Spell creation and all?"The last came out as a mocking sneer, but Angelina nodded sincerely, looking up at Harry.
"As long...as long as she doesn't look too closely, or use any Revealers...it won't be an exact match but I can come close enough" Angelina pleaded. Harry nodded, his face contemplative.
"I'll come along of course, under my cloak. I want to see what she's trying to do - if anything happens we'll just have to play it from there." Another nod, finalizing his decision. "We'll have to switch wands of course."
Angelina's face looked puzzled, before clearing a moment later. "Yes...they check wands." Harry was pleasantly surprised, he had thought that even now, his slaves might balk at the notion of being removed from their source of magic. Apparently not.
As he left, Harry turned around, once more facing Ophelia. "In that book" he said softly, "Is a list of spells. I don't know what they do. Be a dear and find out." He finished with a sneer. Not spending so much as a second to register if the barb had struck, he stalked out of the room, leaving the two girls in silence.
Harry met Angelina in a classroom at the bottom of Gryffindor Tower. He wouldn't tell her of course, but he was definitively impressed by the detail of her disguise. It was slightly off - her skin was a shade darker than his, and the eyes a less prominent green.
All in all though, it should more than serve his purpose...and if it failed, he'd simply Obliviate Umbridge with the subtlety of a rabid hippogriff.
"Let's go then" came the real Harry's disembodied voice from underneath the cloak. Angelina nodded, holding out her wand which then disappeared as Harry took it, a Holly wand taking its place. Without another word, Angelina walked out and towards Umbridge's office, Harry tailing silently behind.
Angelina opened the door, wide enough for Harry to sneak through as well. Hearing the shuffling, Umbridge looked up from her desk, a narrow smile slashing across her flabby face. "Ah hello, Potter. Why don't you sit down? I think you'll be doing lines tonight."
Angelina nodded, taking a seat while Harry snuck around to the side, so as to be able to keep an eye on both occupants. "Mr. Potter, your wand please?" Umbridge simpered, her voice as breathy as always.
"Here, High Inquisitor" Angelina responded in an eerie imitation of Harry's voice. Harry at least was impressed, it seemed her dreams of Spell Creator weren't so farfetched after all - she did have talent.
Umbridge eyes the wand critically, before widening her calculating grin and handing Angelina a quill. "You will write, I must show respect until the message...sinks in." With a flourish, she headed back to her desk.
As Angelina put the quill to parchment, she muffled a whimper as the quill cut into her hand. "Is something wrong, Mr. Potter?" came Umbridge's voice. Angelina shook her head, returning to the task at hand.
Harry was furious. /How dare she./A blood quill no doubt - Harry had read about them in his study of pure blood law, and had wondered how he might attain one and slip it amongst Hermione's supplies. Now though, he was seeing its painful results being inflicted on one of his.
Harry struggled to contain his rage. Angelina was /his, his own sense of honor screamed at him to protect her against this cowardly bitch who would privately attack a student. He could do nothing immediately - he was alone here, he would have no alibi. But Umbridge...she would meet justice, preferably a grizzly one. In the meantime, Harry would have to content himself with providing Angelina with a pain relief charm.
The two left detention and immediately headed back to the classroom where the operation had started. Without hesitation, Harry embraced Angelina, kissing her gently on the forehead and whispering to her softly, "We'll kill her, I promise. Nobody touches you and gets away."
Angelina nodded, grateful for Harry's comfort. Wincing, she looked down at her damaged hand. "Healing potion, go tell Ron you cut yourself and you want to borrow one from my trunk. Tell him I said it's fine." She nodded, though her face was still pensive and anxious."Don't worry - you'll glamour a scar on my hand tomorrow - case she checks."
Angelina nodded again, her face relieved of tension. Another quick kiss and Harry bid her goodnight, making sure she was safely up the tower before heading back down, determined to find some small way to attack Umbridge here and now.
With the assistance of the map, Harry found Umbridge just outside her office talking to none other than Snape. Casting a silent Silencio on the inside of his cloak, Harry crept closer, intruding on the quiet conversation.
"Thank you so very much, Severus...a shame I cannot have my own, but with so many ungrateful eyes watching the ministry...no matter."
Snape to his credit, did not seem to believe a word she uttered, his response dry. "I am sure it is most tragic. Nonetheless, I trust you will keep your end of the bargain."
Umbridge giggled, a terrible noise."Of course Severus, there really is no way of telling after all, if the Banshee blood in your stores was harvested after last year's Screaming Blight..." Snape fumed as he snatched the blood quill from Umbridge, hiding it in the folds of his robes.
So the greasy fucker is in part to blame for this too...Harry's patience was exhausted for the day, and he returned to the Tower, determined to plot on a fresh mind tomorrow. The next Hogsmead visit was two weeks away after all - letters needed to be sent if he was to attack the Prophet.
And if he found away to attack Umbridge as well...the more the merrier.
Harry spent the next two days in aterrible temper, snapping at everyone and keeping a distance from the entirety of his house. Not even Flint's success on recording the various curses he had found had improved his mood...though he suspected that would change soon enough, as he walked alone to Thursday's Defense class.
Once inside, Harry sat next to Neville, giving the nervous boy a small smile and apologizing for his offish behavior earlier that morning. Neville shrugged, claiming he always felt awful when he woke up only to confront Professor Snape first thing in the morning. Harry indicated his head upward, and Neville immediately stopped talking as Snape walked into the room.
Thankfully, today there was no demonstration for Harry to partake in. Rather, they were dueling in groups, asituation that Harry immediately took advantage of. Partnered with Neville, Harry silently cast a minor disorientation hex, giving him precious seconds when no eyes in the class were upon him. In that brief window of time, Harry turned slightly towards Hermione, nonverbally enchanting, Levicorpus.
Much to Harry's unexpected delight, Hermione's indignant squeak turned into a pained moan. Ron had apparently just sent a puss-boil hex at Hermione's midsection, and due to her new position -suspended upside down in midair - the curst hit her directly in the head, causing her face to erupt in angry pustules.
Harry debated on whether to follow through on his original plan to vanish Hermione's knickers, before deciding he had caused enough excitement for the day. Some things are to be seen and not heard. Others, not to be seen at all.
His happiness at Hermione's predicament caused him to miss the look of shock and anger on Snape's face. Without this knowledge, Harry gave it no further consideration when Ron was given a detention and lost thirty points, simply assuming Snape was being his normal self. In truth it didn't matter, Snape's fate had already been sealed. A single nail makes no difference to the corpse.
Suppressing his glee throughout the afternoon around a mortified Hermione and furious Ron was not the easiest of tasks, though it helped that he was busy thinking about tonight's meeting. Harry was thrilled, Hermione's plan could very well work - a very useful pawn indeed...
Harry remained silent as students trickled into the library in ones and twos. Hermione was frantic, blabbering on about what they hoped to achieve, the mornings embarrassment forgotten. Ron stood next to her, puffing his chest but thankfully not adding to the cacophony.
All in all, thirty two students had come. To his satisfaction, both Zabini and Davis were present as well, however warily. Harry smiled - from this group of thirty two Harry would one day select his minions...of course there was no need to tell them that now.
It was time to speak, to inform them of what they would achieve, and why they should follow him, however unknowingly. "Hermione and I have asked you all here today because we want to form a defense club. You've all heard of the breakout from Azkaban...we want to form a group to improve our abilities, to..."
"Why by Hufflepuff's tits should anyone listen to you, Potter" Smith's voice bellowed. "Your just a glory seeker- s'all over the papers. What do you know?"
"What I know," Harry gritted out,"Is I've dueled Voldemort and broke even." Gasps broke out at the name, but Smith continued, unfazed.
"Bullshit! You've done nothing but the sort..." Harry tuned out the remainder of Smith's rant, a cold smile crossing his face as his eyes glazed slightly in ravenous anticipation. How he'd hoped it would come to this! And with Smith, the little shite would be his own undoing.
"Silencio. Perfectus Totalus, Wingardium Leviosa." Harry shouted rapid-fire, waving his arm frantically and smirking as Zacharias was suddenly quieted, paralyzed, and swinging about the ceiling in the space of a second.
No one spoke, shocked by the change of events. Stupidly, Hermione finally blurted, "Mobilicorpus! You can't use Wingardium Leviosa on a person!"
Harry ignored her. "The first rule of dueling." Harry drawled, "Us that no spell is the wrong spell. A death eater will not give you time to think." Harry paused, slowly looking up at Smith and saying with mock concern. "Sorry mate, thought you would have known how to block three first-year spells. Guess not."
Harry waved his arm again, almost knocking Smith into the far wall. A collective gasp filled the room, before Harry slowly returned Smith to the floor, where Ernie quickly cast Finite Incantatum.
"I'm not a professor, but I know how to survive." Harry let loose a harsh and ragged laugh. "You don't become the boy-who-lives if you aren't prepared to fight for the title. Believe whatever you want, but I'm offering you something that no one else is at the moment."
The tension in the room was palpable as students looked among themselves, silently coming to a group decision. Finally, the twins, Ginny, and Angelina stepped forward. "We're with you mate" George spoke, his tone brokering no argument.
"Well...primarily to see if you do /that/again." Fred continued, lightening the mood.
A peel of laughter echoed through the room, and though a number of the Hufflepuffs were glaring at Harry, no one left.
"Right" Harry continued, "This group is private. Spread news and you're out - no arguments." Weary looks were exchanged, but no one spoke against him. This is what it must be like at Death Eater revels, Harry mused. "We'll meet officially for the first time next week - it's too close to curfew now. Thank you."
The group took the dismissal for what it was, leaving immediately, uneasy with the situation but nonetheless curious as to what it might entail. Surprisingly, Blaise and Tracey stayed behind, lingering behind the leaving crowd.
"Potter, do you mind a word?"Blaise asked, indicating towards Ron and Hermione. Harry nodded, turning back towards his friends. "I'll catch up with you two later." Hermione frowned and Ron bit his tongue, but they nodded, perhaps shaken by the display they had just witnessed.
"What's this all about then?" Harry demanded impatiently. "Couldn't wait - we're meeting with the twins tomorrow, you could've come early. God knows I always do..."
Blaise smiled, almost sheepishly but not quite, "Just want to say thanks is all. We know what the rest of the school thinks of the Slytherins." Harry gave him a look oozing with disbelief, and Zabini chuckled. "Those things don't get by you anymore - I know we're here so you look like the great peacemaker. But you've given us an opening too, so thanks."
Harry nodded, certain this exchange was over, when Tracey whispered. "I'd like to thank you to...can I call you Harry?" Harry's eyes narrowed as he turned towards the girl. "Awfully evasive aren't you - always busy, and now we're best friends."
Tracey shrugged, "You're as slippery as I am /Harry. /How you sneak out night after night and no one's the wiser. Nobody's that good. She looked him up and down. "The packaging is...rough...better though, keep it up. But the inside, you're just a bundle of puzzles aren't you Harry."
Harry gave her a false smile."You'd know all about that wouldn't you?" She smirked, moving closer to Blaise who gave Harry a knowing look as he wrapped his arm around her waist. "Speaking of nights out, Daphne won't be too pleased to hear you didn't invite her. Shag a girl then can't even invite her to the party? Not very nice."
Harry mentally rolled his eyes -Daphne was just as much in the thick of this as he was. Not that Blaise had to know that. "I'm sure she'll cope. Taught me a thing or two herself."
In a tone of perfected innocence, Tracey drawled, "Of that Harry, we have no doubt."
Despite the bantering, Harry's mind was racing. The Blaise he normally spoke with was clipped...terse - saying simply what needed to be said. Tonight he was far more passive-aggressive, wasting time with trivial bantering more suited for the Wizengamot than a business partner. And Tracey...avoiding him for weeks before flirting with him a moment before slinking into Blaise's arms.
"/Locomotor Mortis!/ You're stalling me. You sons of bitches are keeping me from something." A flicker on Tracey's face removed all doubt. "Tracey, you've always been a pain in my ass, but Blaise...I swear when I find out what's going on...we're partners dammit!"
Without another word, Harry ran from the room, leaving the library and rummaging in his robes for his precious map. He searched the pages, looking for anything amiss when right in the middle of the seventh floor, standing where no room was marked, were two dots labeled Daphne Greengrass and /Padma Patil/.
Swearing loudly, Harry bolted, racing for the Room of Desires.
Five minutes later and panting heavily, Harry opened the door, and two sets of eyes snapped towards him, both fearful but one tinged with relief.
Harry stood still in shock, before asking emotionlessly, "What...just what the fuck happened here?"
Earlier that day
Padma stifled a yawn as she tucked into her morning breakfast. Thinking about her morning Arithmancy class, she barely noticed when a large brown owl landed regally next to her. Shrugging, she pulled the letter off its talon, admiring the high quality of the paper between her fingers.
"Wow, who's that from?" Mandy asked, seeing Padma holding the heavy envelope with an obvious sense of anticipation. Shrugging off her thoughts, Padma opened the letter. Reading it quickly, she turned to Mandy.
"It's nothing...my uncle in India - like's to show off with the fancy extras." Mandy nodded and turned away, returning to her conversation with Lisa Turpin. As soon as she did, Padma reread the letter quickly before stuffing it into her bag.
Padma,
Go to the sixth floor stairwell next to the statue of Calypso this evening at 6:00.
Don't be late, don't be early. Come alone.
Two minutes before six, Padma walked from room she had been skulking in and walked down the hall, calculating her arrival within a minute of the scheduled time. She was disappointed - the note was obviously from Harry, but he had told her to come alone. He did not want Parvati. He did not want her. Not completely, not yet.
Quite literally a moment later, Padma caught sight of a blonde girl from her year, clothed in Slytherin green. The girl's - Greengrass at another glance - smile was disarming yet equally vicious. Padma looked away.
"Hello Patil" the girl said in aclipped tone. "You came, follow me."
Padma hesitated, refusing to move. Her doubts were laid at rest when the girl said. "I'm Harry's"
Padma nodded, following behind as the two ascended to the seventh floor, stopping at a rather normal door. Entering, she suppressed a shiver at the gloomy atmosphere.
She was jerked from her musings when Greengrass's voice hissed, /Expelliarmus. /Not a second later, her mouth was clamped shut and her arms were paralyzed at her sides, her legs bound by tight ropes.
"I don't like you Patil. Let me make this perfectly perfectly clear. You can't replace me!" Daphne's screamed with a maniacal determination.
"Sanctus/" she whispered reverently, in stark contrast to her previous rant. "I'm not allowed to hurt you - not really anyway. But I don't think this counts." She smirked, placing the tip of her wand against Padma's neck. "/Deius Fyr"
Padma tried to scream, her lungs aching to cry out as her neck burned. Her breathing became irregular as she fought to breath through her nose despite her bodies screaming for release. Her ears ached as a scream filled the air. It was only later that she realized Daphne had released the Lockjaw hex, the scream her own.
"Scream Patil, I like it!" Daphne giggled, moving her wand down Padma's body, pressing it between her small breasts. Padma let loose a twisted sob, morphed horribly by the continuous screaming.
Daphne laughed, a terrible noise made all the more awful by the beauty of its melody. "We may both belong to Harry" she yelled, "but I will never be beneath you!" Her tone turned mocking,"Little bitch, little whore...between master's legs seconds after he took you."It was outrageously hypocritical perhaps, but she was beyond rational argument.
"Did you swallow? Bet you did -master likes that. Are you thirsty now?" Padma said nothing, grateful that during her rant Daphne had removed the wand from her body. The bliss was short lived.
"/Ahydros/" Daphne ranted. Instantly, Parvati's throat constricted, a parching thirst suddenly thrust upon her. She tried to whimper, only to find her voice had all but shut down, unable to do more than the faintest whisper with the dryness that overtook her body.
"Not very nice is it? And you want to know a little secret? If you ever stand between me and Harry, you'll think this was nothing...you'll think...you'll, gahh!" Trembling with rage, Daphne's impassioned speech descended into nothingness, and she resorted to the most primal means of communication, backslapping Padma across the face, panting as the girl stumbled along the floor.
Regaining her temper, Daphne took adeep breath. "You'll learn your place though. You will...Harry taught me this one.../Lamakirbas." /A dark chain red flame erupted from Daphne's wand, creating a lash of fire. With another shriek, she brought the whip across Padma's back, uncaring where she hit as long as contact was made. Again, again, again. Fourteen. Fifteen.
Padma closed her eyes and clenched her throat. Utter agony, to beg to scream and yet her traitorous throat could not. She gave in to the pain, willing this hellish evening to end.
A noise. Had it not been for the fact that Daphne stopped her attack it would have gone by unnoticed. However, she did stop, and that meant the creak was of vital importance. Padma looked up, and immediately happiness and relief fought through the veil of terror. Harry was here, her savior - she had never seen such potent wrath.
"What...just what the /fuck/happened here?"
"Harry. Master. I have not disobeyed you!" Daphne answered, her eyes wide in terror. Harry let out amirthless laugh. "No doubt you didn't - not technically." His face was a masked of all emotion, save the anger that still radiated from his eyes. "Get out Greengrass - you disgust me. You're fortunate I don't consider this betrayal, you remember your oath."
The terror in Daphne's eyes magnified if at all possible, and she whispered a strained "Yes, my master -you're kindness..." stopping when she caught his face. Without another glance, she dropped Padma's wand and scurried from the room, fleeing Harry's anger.
Harry rushed to Padma, casting /Finite/before he even reached the girl. Padma shuddered, her sobs only lessening slightly when Harry grabbed her, rocking her gently in his arms as one might asmall child. "S'ok - safe now. Never going to her hurt you again." Padma nodded, then winced - pointing at her throat.
"Dehydration curse?" Padma nodded, and Harry felt a flash of pride in Daphne's abilities, though quickly squashed them in the fury that she had done this to one who was now her sister in all but name. Harry conjured a glass of water - it would serve no practical purpose, but then Padma wasn't physically dehydrated, she simply needed to feel quenched. Harry waited as she drank greedily, before pulling her back into his embrace.
Padma snuggled into him, her soft body molding perfectly into Harry's own. Tonight though, Harry would not give in to lust or power. He was her lord and master, and he would take the pleasure with the pain. Hours later, the two returned to their respective dorms, with Harry's promise that she would never suffer as such ever again. Of that, she had no doubt.