In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 65: Snip Snip
Kristen rolled over on her bed early Tuesday morning as the alarm went off. She kissed Kurt on the cheek, before she got up, dressed in a clean police uniform. Still dark outside, she left the bedroom, and went down the steps. She heard the groaning, the muttering, from the living room. Her hand to her flashlight, settled when she spotted the huddled mass of Harry on the sofa. Harry, blanket not quite over his chest, shook. She turned off her flashlight as she went over to him, let the lukewarm ash of the fireplace light them, her eyes trained on him.
"Please…no…" Harry muttered.
She sat on the coffee table, ran her fingers along Harry's sweating face, the eyelids still twitching, the bottle greens seemingly glowing in the darkness. Her fingers paused as they felt the burning sensation across his scar. Chitter to his teeth, and Kristen held his hand.
"Not Diggle!" Harry exclaimed, "No!"
A hard wrench, his arse flashed before he turned back to her, his eyes fluttered for a moment, the mutterings continued. Kristen glanced at the clock, made the mental note of it being quarter to five, turned her attention back to Harry. His arm went over the pillow, his twitching subsided, the light unintelligible mutterings became more and more quiet. A bit of a snore returned. Kristen glanced at the clock, until fifteen minutes had passed.
"Sleep tight," Kristen whispered, patted Harry's head, and went for the front door.
She grabbed her jacket from the hangar, put it on as she left the house, into the cold freezing temperatures of the pre–dawn air.
Steam to her breath, Kristen contemplated what she'd seen, realized Gia had downplayed the extent of Harry's night terrors. Kristen's respect grew as she had learned what Gia had been putting up with, on a routine basis. Kristen wondered if Harry had some buried trauma, something a good psychiatrist could help with. Still, she made her way to the station, entered.
"Chief!" came the holler.
Kristen turned to Frank.
"New case," Frank said, motioning her to follow into his office, where he shut the door. Frank dropped a case file. "Killed less than an hour ago, came in to have the lab run the prints."
Kristen glanced at the preliminary name for the victim, Diggle.
"That can't be—" Kristen started.
"We've already received an anonymous tip," Frank said, "Complete with a Polaroid picture."
Frank turned the page, the envelope with a single addressee, "Police."
Kristen glanced at the date, sixteen minutes before five, the picture of what she thought was Harry, pulling a trigger to a weapon, capturing the muzzle flash, at the man in the top hat, shooting this Diggle person.
"Harry was asleep, on my sofa, having a nightmare," Kristen said, "I know, because I checked the clock, and Richard's insisted on keeping it accurate."
"Then he was in two places at the same time," Frank said, "And why didn't this person shoot the cameraman, because the flash was on, it'd be seen."
Kristen leaned back against the bookcase.
"I kept dismissing it as paranoia," Kristen said, "Hermione lectured me about the possibility of impostors last night—fiction, or so I thought. Have you checked for latex masks or something?"
"Sure, ask the assailant to stand still so we can check?" Frank asked.
"Not funny," Kristen said, "Keep digging. Might be coincidence, but Harry did shout 'Not Diggle' during his nightmare."
"Sure you're not asleep?" Frank asked.
"Wish I was," Kristen said as she yawned, "Coffee hot?"
"Define hot," Frank said.
"Seem to have a murder frenzy going on," Kristen said, "Don't add yourself to the list."
"Good morning to you too," Frank grumbled.
Kristen opened the door, headed for the coffee pot.
"Nice equipment!"
Harry woke to Andy standing there, her fingers holding up his blanket as she surveyed his morning wood as he laid there on the sofa.
"Hey!" Harry snapped, pulled the blanket over to cover himself.
"Why hide?" Andrea asked.
"It's my decision to make," Harry said as he moved his pillow to his crotch, "Not yours!"
Harry held the pillow tight, used it while he climbed up the stairs. Heard Hermione's giggling from the bathroom, the shower running.
"That's a real broomstick," Ron's voice came, "Care to ride it?"
Harry snickered, entered the bedroom. Gia, already dressed for school, her eyes on him as the pillow dropped.
"Ready to make up and apologize?" Gia asked.
"He—they were out of line," Harry said, "I shouldn't have…" He realized the trap as he paid attention to her eyes.
"You made lousy choices out of anger," Gia said, "How can I be sure you won't turn on me?"
Harry paused for a moment.
"I'm sorry," Harry said, "I've apologized, that's what I can do…" A thought came to Harry, a recollection. "Wait, there's one more way."
Harry went to the bookshelf, pulled out the Romantic Wizard, and flipped it open onto the bed. He thumbed through the pages, and grabbed a shoe box.
"What are you doing?" Gia asked.
Harry grabbed a picture of him and Gia, dragons in the background, and his wand came out.
"Repono!" Harry exclaimed.
Gia watched as he felt the sharp yank, his family jewels torn out, replaced by something similar down there, and Harry gritted his teeth for a moment. He turned over the photograph. On the white paper back, squiggly and moving outlines and he handed it over to Gia.
"Whatever you do, don't lose it!" Harry said, "It's my sincerity to you—I can't…erm…perform until I get it back."
"You're…?" Gia started, the eyes unable to properly fathom what she'd seen.
"It's formal, I entrusted my…bollocks to you," Harry said, "That curse put them into that picture, it can be reversed with that picture in hand."
"If it's lost or destroyed?" Gia asked, as she put the photograph into her purse.
"Then I lose, totally," Harry said, "Got nothing else, nothing worthwhile, to tell you how much I messed up."
Harry grabbed his shorts and followed her out of the bedroom as the shower stopped, walked down the steps with her.
"You mean it?" Gia asked.
"Yes," Harry said as he stepped into his shorts.
They went out.
"Wasn't planning on you—" Gia started.
"See you to the school," Harry said, "Run back, the suspension usual."
Harry followed her.
Ron finished coming down the stairs, glanced at the sofa.
"Harry's already left!" Ron shouted back up the stairs.
Ron crossed the living room, went for the kitchen. Ron grabbed the frying pan, put it on the stove. A reach for his wand, before he remembered and turned the knob. Ron rummaged through the refrigerator, grabbed the pack of bacon, and laid out the slices on the pan. Ron divided the English Muffins, put them into the toaster.
"Full English?" Hermione asked as she entered the Kitchen, The Daily Prophet rolled tight beneath her arm, letters in her hands, "You know I—"
"It's what I figured out," Ron said as he dumped beans from the can into a saucepan, "Mum never really made me."
"I'll skip the bacon," Hermione said, setting the paper and letters down onto the table.
Ron snorted, "Sure."
Crookshanks rubbed against Hermione's ankles, she bent down and picked him up. A rub to the cat's belly, and the tail moved around. She stood there, petting the cat, and watched as Ron flipped the bacon.
"You miss your Mum," Hermione said.
"Who wouldn't?" Ron asked.
Ron caught her eyes, admiring his stature. She grinned.
"True," Hermione said, Crookshanks purring in her arms.
Ron moved the bacon to the plates. He cracked six eggs, added them to the pan, and scrambled them with the spatula.
"About there," Ron said as he moved the spatula, scraped the eggs onto the plate.
"Need some fruit," Hermione said.
"Beans," Ron replied as he carried the plate into the dining room.
"That's not fruit," Hermione said.
"Juice?" Ron asked.
Hermione shook her head as he returned to the kitchen.
"Hey, it's not beer," Ron said, taking out the English Muffins.
Hermione snorted. Ron opened the refrigerator, took out the carton of juice.
"Suppose we could've had pizza," Ron said.
Ron poured the two glasses, carried them out into the kitchen, leaving the juice carton on the counter. Ron went around the table, sat. Hermione let Crookshanks down onto the floor, and she sat.
"Do I want to know?" Hermione asked as she unrolled The Daily Prophet, "Nope."
Ron spotted the article, beneath the picture of the starkers teenage boy banging Parvati the day before, on the Marble stairs, credited to Colin Creevey.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Rape at Hogwarts, Protect Your Daughters from Perverted Potter!
Harry Potter, the Boy Who Should Have Died, raped the sixth year girl at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, who turned out to be none other than the innocent girl who spurned his advances two years ago at the Yule Ball. In boldness, Potter vowed during this attack that any of your daughters may be his next victim of shame. With no remorse, this demonstration that was in full view of everyone, shows that not only has Dark Potter gone astray, but that he is determined to spread himself with a generation of faithful followers. For those with daughters at Hogwarts, STRONG action is urged, that Harry Potter should be castrated, cut off immediately to prevent further troubles. Though any protests to Albus Dumbledore, the person responsible for permitting Potter to terrorize an entire generation of children, will fall onto deaf ears, make your voices heard!
"Figures," Ron grumbled as he put some beans onto his buttered English Muffin, ate.
"Mind?" Hermione asked, fingers on the letter to him from Ginny.
Ron shrugged, Hermione opened it.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Ron,
Can you, like, THANK HARRY for us? Tell him to cut it out! With the witch hunt going on, me and Colin had to, I think Mum will forgive us.
Ginny
Hermione unfolded the Hogwarts Corpse, began to read into it as Ron ate into his bacon.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
The Hogwarts Corpse
Tuesday, 14 January 1997
Dark Potter Boned Patil in Rape
by Ernie Macmillan
Apparently making up for lost time, right before our eyes, Dark Potter raped Parvati Patil, a fellow sixth year Gryffindor in both his year and his house. Dark Potter failed miserably trying to woo her on a date to the Yule Ball, obviously telling her that she needed it and it'd loosen her up by banging her on the stairs for their lunchtime attraction. Dark Potter certainly showed the entire school the balls we hope he won't enjoy for long.
UHP Chapter at Hogwarts Dissolved
by Colin Creevey
By an unanimous vote of the few remaining members, the Hogwarts Chapter of the Unofficial Harry Potter Fan Club is officially disbanded, marking the end to the fifteen year old organization at Hogwarts.
Ron put the fork down to his eggs.
"Are they really talking about—?" Ron started.
"Unfortunately…under ordinary circumstances," said Dumbledore as he entered from the living room, his cane slowly tapped as he lumbered in. He sat. "Harry's impostor raped a student, a child in the eyes of the law, with plenty of eyewitnesses to vouch to the satisfaction of the law. While you and I know the true Harry to be innocent, we must choose how to best preserve our options to fight Voldemort."
"There has to be some legal ground—" Hermione started.
"Under law," Dumbledore said, "Harry should be remanded to Azkaban, sentenced to a Demeantor's Kiss while being hung, drawn, and quartered. I don't know what possessed the Minister to impose leniency to resolve this issue, but it'll be expedient, and likely Harry's only option to continue his education at Hogwarts."
"What education at Hogwarts?" Hermione stammered.
"I'd rather be expelled—even Azkaban seems better," Ron grumbled, "At least I'd see my Dad!"
"Harry should keep running," Hermione grumbled.
"If I had more energy," Dumbledore shook on his cane, "I could outfox the Ministry Aurors, I don't think Mr. Potter could, not yet. It wasn't an easy choice, but I had to swear a Wizard's Oath to help carry out the castration, or Mr. Patil would press formal charges, and the expulsion would be automatic. Where is Mr. Potter?"
"Brought her to school, running back," Hermione said, as the back sliding glass door opened.
"Run," Ron said to Harry entering shirtless in shorts.
"Professor," Harry said, reaching to shake the hand, "Good morning."
"I need to borrow your wand," Dumbledore said.
Harry's wand came out, handed it over. The Headmaster activated a Portkey as their hands made contact, vanished.
"Blimey!" Ron said, "Promise me Hermione—kill me if that ever needs to happen to me—"
"There is more to life—" Hermione started.
"Not to a guy," Ron snapped.
Hours later, Ron set the quill to the side, on the dining table, his mind unable to focus, and moved the Chudley Canons book a bit more.
"Supposed to be working on Charms, not Quidditch Strategy," Hermione said, on the other side of the table.
Ron stared at her brown eyes. He tried to tell if that was her real perception of this book, whether the illusion worked on her, to hide the blurb on the mental effects of a castration.
"They—" Ron started.
"I had hoped to see offspring," said Professor Dumbledore, a bit distant, "I believe Ron and Hermione—"
"You STOLE that choice from ME!" Harry grumbled, as the two came into the dining room. Harry stashed his wand, his crumpled and torn shorts held in front of his crotch. "Voldemort had the best laugh he's had in ages, no thanks to you."
"Wish there was a better way," Professor Dumbledore said.
"Just about any other way would've been BETTER!" Harry snapped, his right hand removed, pointed it at Dumbledore, his bottle green eyes glaring at the Headmaster, "Implants and…after that, I'm done with Hogwarts."
"Give him a chance to live," said Lupin as he entered the room, "Albus, I think you've done enough damage for the day."
"Think you're right," said Professor Dumbledore. A tap to the Portkey, and he vanished.
"He bargained away my bollocks without even TALKING to me!" Harry grumbled, arms along his bare chest, his hands held the tattered cloth over his crotch.
"Azkaban with demeantors for roommates?" Lupin said, "Your reputation…doubt they'd wait for orders to kiss, and where would you be?"
"With my parents," Harry grumbled as he sat.
"Doubt that would make Lily or James happy in the least," Lupin said, "I'm sorry too, they would've loved grandchildren, I think."
"We'll never know," Harry stated, his right finger pointed to Lupin.
"If you need help with Gia, let me know," Ron said, "But you should've gone back out on the run like I had—"
"Ta," Harry snapped.
"You can't even keep uninvited guests out of this house," Lupin said, "You're no match for Ministry Aurors on your scent."
"Would've been better, even if short," Harry said.
"You're clearly in no shape for wand work today," Lupin said, "Suggest ice down below while you work on your essays. Where's the little werewolf's room?"
"Upstairs," Ron said.
Lupin left. Harry aimed his wand first, the Romantic Wizard flew through the door into his hand, and he opened it as he leaned over the table.
"Thank you Ron, very much, for getting me into trouble with Gia," Harry said, "It's a debt I cannot repay."
"Huh?" Ron asked.
"I did this—" Harry pointed to the page, as Hermione's face lit up, "This morning, before I went on the run. Madam Pomfrey will be installing Ministry implants tomorrow. Can you pull this off, return what Gia has in her possession, into me?"
"Dumb luck," Hermione said.
"I'll take it," Harry quipped.
"What?" Ron muttered.
"Slow as ever," Hermione said.
"What does this do?" Ron asked as he turned the book around, read into the enchantment.
"I wanted to show Gia I was serious on my apology," Harry said, "So, while I was castrated—"
"Those weren't his balls that were destroyed," Hermione said.
"There's a chance—?" Ron started.
"SHH!" Harry quipped, "Lupin's still upstairs."
"It'll be tricky—I need—" Hermione said as she stood.
Harry ran to follow her. Ron ran behind, up the stairs, as Lupin got out of the bathroom.
"Professor—" Hermione started.
"I told you all before," Lupin said, "I'm no longer a Hogwarts teacher."
"Irrelevant—you earned the title as far as we're concerned," Hermione said.
"Why thank you," Lupin said as he gave a small bow, "Gracious of you to say."
"There's a book we don't have," Hermione said, "We need a good quality Healing book—"
"While I sympathize with your loss," Lupin said, "It's irreversible—"
"Complications?" Hermione stammered.
"Poppy would be appalled to suggest that her procedures—" Lupin started.
"Weight gain, mood swings," Ron said, reciting from the research he has done.
"Besides the point," Hermione said, "We're suspended so often, we should have competency."
"I'll see what I can do," Lupin said, "Good day—I mean, hope it goes better for you Harry."
"Can't get any worse," Harry said.
"Don't jinx yourself," Lupin said, "Oh—" he reached into his pocket. "For you." He handed the letter over to Harry. "Muggles?"
"Not around," Harry said.
Lupin disapparated.
"Bedroom," Harry said.
They went into Gia's bedroom.
Hoot!
Hedwig had a letter. Harry, though, found a pair of white briefs, slipped them on.
"Those are mine," Ron said.
"Mind?" Harry asked.
Ron shook his head. Harry grabbed his blue denim trousers, scarlet red Gryffindor T–shirt, pulled these on, along with his socks and shoes.
"Going to be a new thing?" Hermione asked.
"Be yourselves," Harry said as he grabbed the letters that had piled up.
Harry led the way. Ron and Hermione remained underdressed as they followed him down, back into the dining room. Harry opened the one with the fancy handwriting, and though the letter didn't speak, Harry raised his voice into a higher tone.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Dear Mr. Harry James Potter
Yesterday's act was utterly shameful and abhorrent, and you should be feeling remorseful by now. While we had hoped this would have motivated you into better behavior, we know your delusional paranoia would prevent that, which is why we consented to the castration duly ordered by the Minister of Magic. After the wonderful Madam Poppy Pomfrey has relieved you of your source of anxiety and frustration, you should experience peace and be able to return yourself to being a productive member of Wizarding Society. No longer will worries over witches distract you as Draco Malfoy should be able to properly coach you.
And congratulations on your new accomplishment!
Sincerely,
Delores Jane Umbridge, Chairwitch of the Harry Potter Guidance Committee.
"Interesting," Ron muttered.
"Guess Malfoy took something from his mother," Harry said, "Of all the students, he was the most sympathateic."
"You're complimenting him?" Ron asked.
"Yeah," Harry said, "Guess I am."
"Talk about complications," Hermione grumbled, re–reading the page of the Romantic Wizard.
Harry snorted.
"Wasn't planning to ask you how it went," Ron said.
"Thank you," Harry said, "Guess you can come with me after all, need to do a bit of clothes shopping."
"Complications," Ron said, "Plenty of complications."
"You're more than welcome to go through it," Harry snapped.
"Quiet," Hermione said.
Harry went to the next letter, with loopy green handwriting.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Harry,
I apologize.
Albus Dumbledore.
"Sure that wasn't booby trapped?" Ron asked.
"Not sure," Harry said as he moved onto the next one.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Harry,
Heard the bad news, thinking of you.
Sirius
"Guess Dumbledore didn't keep it quiet," Hermione said.
"Likely already on the Wireless by now," Ron said, "It's not a secret."
"Thanks," Harry grumbled as he opened the last letter. Harry belted out a laugh.
"Sorry?" Hermione asked.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
DUDE…we meant HAIRY HARRY!
Sorry for your loss, but we think we can help. Potions for replacement hormones, accessories to pleasure the girlfriend with. You name it, we'll see what we can do, and you can count on us to come up with more ways, unsolicited.
Also, way to GO! Your misbehavior is inspiring whole new lines of products, so we expect our revenuse to rise dramatically (unfortunately, you can't). Say, can you tip us off to your next stunt? We'd like to be better prepared with our inventory.
Fred & George Weasley
"Don't destroy their offer yet," Hermione said.
"Gia's got the picture," Harry said.
Ron wondered which photograph Harry used, when Harry vanished.
"…and so, you place the numbers into a matrix.." droned on Mr. Hookgreen, dry eraser marker in his hand at the white board.
Gia kept her spiral notebook open, but more in her lap, her eyes down on the photograph, dragons that moved on one side, and an outline of Harry's todger and bollocks on the other. Her finger touched it, wondered what it'd take to get a stiffy, seemed way more interesting than the topic on the board.
"Hi," Harry whispered as he pulled up a chair to sit beside her.
"You're…" Gia whispered, as she put the photograph back into her purse.
"Rough day," Harry whispered.
"Please, boyfriends—" Mr. Hookgreen said.
"Shh!" Lisa said, nearby.
Harry reached, held Gia's left hand, and she took notes. Gia appreciated the companionship, knew Harry didn't need advanced Algebra, simply being there was what he was up to. It did focus her, until the bell, when they stood, the strap of her purse over her shoulder. Bottle green eyes, trembled as they stared at her.
"Not—" Gia felt into the crotch of his trousers and seemed hollow.
"About that," Harry said.
Gia put her notebook into her bag, which Harry grabbed. Harry put the strap it over his shoulder on the fabric of the scarlet red Gryffindor T–shirt, and they left the classroom. Fair skies above, cool temperatures, but their breaths remained clear.
"Lunch," Gia said, "Shouldn't you be studying?"
"Tried, couldn't focus," Harry said, as they walked along, "You seemed better."
"Cute," Gia said, "You show up without remembering how you got here."
"Yeah, that happened again," Harry said, "Not that I mind."
"Something happen?" Gia asked.
Harry nodded, frowned. They walked to the edge of the brook behind the school. Harry turned to her.
"Still got that photograph?" Harry asked.
"Yes," Gia said, reaching into her purse.
"Good, keep it," Harry said.
Gia felt confused, those bottle green eyes seemed to twitch and felt a bit of his stare into her.
"Naturally, I forgave Ron," Harry said, "Because that's the best stroke of dumb luck I've had in…well, finding you."
Gia shook her head a bit, unsure where this was headed.
"Mr. Patil, the father of the girl my impostor raped," Harry said, "Guess he was mad, the Minister demanded I be castrated, done this morning."
"I don't understand," Gia said, voicing her doubt.
"And they did," Harry said, "Castrated whatever was down there—but, with my balls here—" he pointed to her purse "—got a chance. I gotta trust Hermione can figure it out—after I get those Ministry implants, because gotta have a reason why my sack's not empty."
"You've been castrated?" Gia asked.
"Not like Dumbledore gave me the choice," Harry said, "Sold off my balls, shows up, asks to see my wand, and kidnaps me to that…that school so they could take them out. Uncle Vernon was right, would've been better never going in the first place."
"So that's why…" Gia reached, felt into his crotch.
"Yeah," Harry said, "Better you than the entire school feeling me up."
"They—?" Gia asked.
"Queued up to give it a feel," Harry said, "To prove to them I've been had, and more. Voldemort wants them dead? Let them rot."
"That's not you," Gia said.
"I…" Harry stuttered.
Gia pulled Harry close, let his head bury itself into her shoulder, and she held him. Her hands slipped beneath his shirt, held his back. He breathed, his face on her.
"I'd be more forgiving if it were a discreet trip to the Hospital Wing," Harry said, "Nope, lets make it public! Pictures to The Daily Prophet to show the Boy Who Lived and his todger losing its best mates."
Gia slipped her left hand down the back of his trousers, onto the skin of his rump, massaged into it.
"Ta," Harry said, letting back up. He kissed her.
"What puzzles me is the barbaric nature of your magical unjustice," Gia said, "Bribes withstanding, it's about accusations and revenge."
"Apt description," Harry said, "Though mean and cruel is more like it—maybe spectacle is better. Maybe one or two who didn't laugh. Even if I cheat the punishment, it was punishment going through it."
Gia's stomach growled.
"I do want lunch," Gia said.
Harry held her hand, made for Smeltings and its cafeteria.
Harry returned to 26 Oak St that evening, Gia with her, and bags in their hands. Ron and Hermione were at the table.
"Should've been studying," Hermione said.
"I was castrated," Harry said, "I couldn't focus on that."
"We know what you were focusing on," Ron said.
"It's not that," Harry said, "She's got my balls."
"We know," Hermione said.
Harry carried his bags through the dining room, living room, up the stairs, and into Gia's bedroom.
"New wardrobe," Gia said, kissed Harry.
"Don't want to," Harry said as he dumped the new clothes out, "But…"
Harry admitted to himself, the humiliation that morning was motive enough, not to mention the need to be vigilant in covering up. Harry found the blue sweats in his trunk, began to change.
"So you're going for those implants?" Gia asked.
"Yes," Harry said.
They left the bedroom, headed out.
Date: Thu Jan 4 09:53:35 2024