A chapter I'm rather fond of, particularly the last scene.
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The next chapter will be published the coming Saturday.
Harry Potter: A Flaw in Fate
The Blackest of Nights
V. Hidden in the Cupboard
"Vane, Romilda!"
Harry watched as a young girl edged towards the tri-legged stool in the center of the hall. Professor McGonagall slowly lowered the Sorting Hat onto her head, and the girl's dark eyes disappeared from view. Her curly black hair pressed against her robes, flattened by the old, leathery material of the hat itself.
The world flickered, the walls of the Great Hall crashing down. The bricks that made them sunk into the earth, forming a pathway just beneath his feet. The torches remained in place - but their flames faded away, replaced by muggle light bulbs. It was dark out; Harry scooted back, his spine pressing against the brick wall behind him.
Crack.
Harry shifted. Water splashed just out of sight, and he heard the sound of soft, dainty footsteps clambering on the muggle pavement. Harry pushed himself off the floor, removing his wand from his back pocket.
"Show yourself!"
Something stirred in the alleyway opposite him. Harry could make out the faint outline of a woman - one with wild-looking hair and long, tattered robes. A drop of light fell upon her as she stepped forward. Dark, curly hair flashed before Harry's eyes.
"I can't." pouted the woman, leaning closer in the darkness, "I want to, but she said I couldn't -"
"GRYFFINDOR!"
Harry jumped. Thunderous applause rang in his ears, and the girl with the curly black hair - Romilda, if he remembered correctly - cheerfully made her way towards the Gryffindor table. Harry stared at her retreating form, his eyes latching onto the back of her head.
Bellatrix Lestrange.
He'd seen her, back in that alley just past Magnolia road. He'd seen her before that too, actually - once on the tele, and first in the Mirror of Erised. The woman in the alley was her, he was sure of it. There was simply no one else it could be.
And the Ministry thought she would be coming here, to Hogwarts.
For me.
Harry's head tilted uncomfortably to the side. He placed a finger against his temple, propping himself up - but the dull, numbing ache in his head persisted. An excerpt - one from a Daily Prophet article he had read ages ago - replayed itself in his head again and again.
"Lady Voldemort's most powerful, most loyal follower . . ."
She would find him. She would bring him to her at the very least -
She's already found Voldemort. She said that, back in the alleyway.
But why hadn't she taken him then? Why had he been allowed to return to Hogwarts, back under Dumbledore's protection?
"You've been staring at nothing for a while now." whispered a voice to his right, "You should probably eat. We don't need Snape thinking you're defective this early into term.."
Harry turned. Nott sat to his side, piling food onto a golden plate in front of him. He idly flipped a page of his book, turning his head back to Harry, "Plus, Daphne's starting to think you're defective, too."
"No, I don't -"
"See?"
Daphne, who sat on Harry's other side, ignored Nott. She watched Harry carefully, the ends of her lips curving into a slight frown.
"It's nothing." Harry assured her, adding a bit of food to his own plate, "Really, I'm fine."
Daphne nodded slowly. Her icy-blue eyes slowly swam along the Slytherin table, landing on a girl near the front of the hall.
"Did you think she might be in a different house?" asked Harry curiously, watching the girl himself.
Daphne shrugged.
"Maybe Hufflepuff." admitted Daphne, "Ravenclaw wouldn't have surprised me, either."
Harry nodded, turning back to the girl. She conversed softly with a few girls around her age, slowly making her way through the plate of food before her.
"She doesn't seem much like a Slytherin." noted Nott.
Harry frowned. His eyes traced the girl carefully - the way her head ducked slightly, the uncertainty in her eyes and the nervousness in her expression.
No, she doesn't.
Harry turned to Daphne, his eyebrows raised. The blonde girl lowered her fork, leaning towards his ear.
"I think she asked." she whispered quietly, "I think she asked the hat to put her in Slytherin."
Slowly she leaned back. Harry turned, his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.
"You can do that?"
Daphne nodded.
"Tracey's mum did that, I think." she muttered, "They never told us for sure, but I'm fairly certain she did."
Their gaze shifted, returning to the girl at the end of the hall. Her head raised slightly, and her eyes jumped to them for the slightest second. Harry watched as the girl quickly turned away, her gaze returning to her newfound friends.
"It's probably a good thing she did." Harry muttered, "Eases the conscience a bit."
Daphne nodded, lowering her fork to the steak that sat before her.
"Just a bit."
The food that sat opposite them slowly vanished, finding a home within the confines of their stomachs. Harry watched as the sparse crumbs that remained vanished entirely. The Great Hall suddenly quieted, and Professor Dumbledore rose from his seat.
"Now then," he began, his eyes twinkling as they passed over the sea of students, "I have a few matters of great importance that I wish to impart upon you. I understand you are now watered, fed, and ready for bed - as am I - but I must ask for your attention for a few moments longer.
"As you may have guessed after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business. Bellatrix Lestrange, a very powerful and very dangerous witch, has escaped, and Minister Fudge wished to recapture her as soon as possible."
Dumbledore cleared his throat. The edges of his lips quirked downwards, and the twinkle in his eye seemed to fade away. Harry watched as the headmaster raised a fist to his mouth, covering a quiet cough.
He doesn't seem to like the Dementors much either.
"They will be stationed at every entrance to the grounds," Dumbledore continued, "and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave the school without permission. Dementors will not be fooled by tricks or disguises - not even Invisibility Cloaks will shield you from their notice."
Harry paused, his head ducking slightly. He felt Daphne's gaze pressing against the side of his skull - Nott's too, on the opposite side - and slowly raised his head once more. Emerald eyes latched back onto Dumbledore, who had continued speaking.
"- not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the Dementors."
Harry glanced down the table. A large, bulky boy sat off to one side, a shiny silver Prefect badge pinned to his chest. A few seats down sat a girl with mousy brown hair and a silvery badge of her own. Neither of them paid Dumbledore the slightest attention.
That's just brilliant.
"On a happier note," Dumbledore continued from the front of the hall, "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year.
"First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."
Harry watched as the man from the train slowly rose from a seat at one end of the staff table. Lupin's lips curved upwards by the faintest of margins, and he raised a single hand as he waved at the students. His amber eyes shined beneath the light of the torches beside him, and his shabby robes seemed more tattered than they had before.
Remus Lupin.
Harry clapped alongside the other students, and a rather unenthusiastic applause filled the Great Hall. His eyes traced the man as he took a seat. Harry frowned.
He had a disease, didn't he? Hagrid said so.
Harry turned, his eyes landing on the giant of a man. He was clapping loudly, a bright smile visible beneath his large, bushy beard.
They must've cured it, then.
"As to our second new appointment," Dumbledore continued as the lukewarm applause for Professor Lupin died away, "I am sorry to tell you all that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."
Harry froze, his jaw hanging open in shock. A thunderous applause suddenly burst from the Gryffindor table, and a large thud echoed through the hall as Nott's head slammed against the Slytherin table.
"I should've guessed." he moaned, his head in his hands, "Who else would've assigned a biting book?"
"It might not be that bad." said Harry, laughing as he clapped along with the others, "Maybe you're just meant to raise it."
Nott scowled, swearing profusely under his breath. From behind his lectern, Professor Dumbledore waved at them all, smiling again.
"And now, off to bed!" he said cheerfully, "A full day of learning awaits you tomorrow!"
Harry, Daphne and Nott rose from their seats, following the other Slytherins as they made their way down the hall and back towards their dorms in the dungeons.
-(xXx)-
Splotch.
Splotch.
Splotch.
Harry watched as water streaked down long, thin windows of beautiful stained glass. Soft, youthful fingers wrapped around a silver spoon as he poked at his porridge. It sank slightly in its bowl, the bits by the edge nearly spilling onto the table.
It was September the second. Countless voices rang through the Great Hall as students quickly piled food onto their plates. Many of the first years seemed particularly enthusiastic; Harry watched as a quartet of young Hufflepuffs rose from their table, rushing off to their very first class.
"- didn't allow me to take every class." said a disappointed voice from afar, "So I'm doing Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures."
Harry turned. A rather despondent Hermione Granger sat at the Gryffindor table, sighing as her eyes combed over her schedule. To her side, Neville fingered a schedule of his own, and Ron stared at her in exasperation.
"Hermione," he began slowly, "Forgive me if I'm wrong, but maybe - just maybe - they won't let you take every class because you can't actually be in two places at once."
But Hermione merely huffed, turning away. Harry glanced at Nott. The boy was also watching the three Gryffindors, the edges of his lips curved upwards in amusement.
"Do you reckon that's why?" asked Harry quietly, "Hermione seems the type to trade a bit of sleep for some extra classes."
Nott shrugged.
"Maybe." he muttered, "Grandfather mentioned something that could fix that, though. It's called a Time-Turner, I think."
Harry's head tilted to the side. Beside him, Daphne's head lifted from her own plate. Icy eyes landed upon the two of them, shining with curiosity.
"Father told me about those." she whispered, raising a spoonful of porridge to her lips, "They're meant to let you travel back in time."
Harry's eyebrows shot upwards. Countless thoughts swam through his mind, each more glorious than the last -
Mum. Dad. Emil - her -
But Daphne slowly shook her head.
"They don't work like that." she told him morosely, "They can't actually change time - magic would never allow it. It just allows you to experience it again."
"And if it could change time, there's absolutely no way they're letting Granger have one." finished Nott, "Or any kid, really."
Harry nodded, lowering his spoon into the porridge bowl once more.
-(xXx)-
"Welcome, everyone," began Professor Babbling with a large smile, "to your first Ancient Runes class!"
A soft applause rang through the small classroom. Professor Babbling bowed to them all, laughing, before waving her wand. Several sheets of parchment flew through the classroom. Harry watched as a single sheet fell upon his desk. He carefully dipped his quill into a cartridge of ink before scanning the paper.
"Take your time, dears." said Professor Babbling kindly, "This isn't a test - I'd just like to see what you know, and what you can work out. They're like puzzles, really - have fun with it!"
Harry nodded slowly. He pressed his glasses against the bridge of his nose, his emerald eyes reading the first question in his head -
Ansuz.
Harry paused. Words popped into his head as he glanced down the parchment, and he gently lowered his quill to its surface.
Isa. Jera. Perthro. Eihwaz.
The ends of his lips lowered as he set his quill aside.
How -
A girl with long, black hair and beautiful hazel eyes stared back at him. Her pale skin seemed to glow in the dark confines of his mind. A book sat by her feet. It was old and tattered; there was a large, gaping hole in the middle of it.
"So much to learn, Harry." she whispered softly, "So much."
The girl stepped forward, and the chamber around them crumbled to ash. Her lips pressed gently against the side of his head as her eyes glowed scarlet.
"But don't you worry. I'll teach you. I promised, remember?"
Right.
Harry glanced back down at the sheet of parchment. A single symbol sat at the bottom of the page, staring blankly up at him.
Emily's favorite. Sowilo.
The world swirled once more, and he found himself where he had been months ago. He lay sprawled in his bed, a withered diary in his arms. It wrote feverishly back to him. Harry could almost feel the joy in the inky words.
"The Sun Rune." she wrote, "The Rune of Life."
The words faded, only to be replaced.
"It's bent." she muttered, "Like lightning. I like it. It looks nice."
Just like my scar.
Harry closed his eyes, and the girl from the chamber faded away.
-(xXx)-
"That was absolute rubbish."
Harry looked up. The door of his dormitory swung wide open as Nott came barreling through. The boy paced back and forth across the room as the door slowly creaked shut.
I'd better remember to add wards to my room.
"Care of Magical Creatures didn't go well, then?" asked Harry as he forced his trunk open.
"Sort of." said Nott, "A bit of the opposite, really."
"What happened?"
Nott cleared his throat, straightening up slightly as his eyes landed on the mirror.
"More or less what you'd expect. Malfoy got attacked by a Hippogriff."
Harry paused. The end of his trunk slammed against his fingers, and he swore profusely - but a moment later he was staring at Nott with wide eyes.
"What?"
Nott nodded, chuckling.
"The git provoked it." he explained, "Hagrid told us specifically not to, but you know Malfoy - he did it anyway."
Harry shook his head, rummaging through his trunk once more.
"Is Hagrid in trouble for it?"
"I don't think so." said Nott slowly, "He told us not to do anything stupid about half a dozen times. But Malfoy's still going to cry to his dad, I bet you anything."
That sounds about right.
"We've got Defense next, right?" asked Harry, his eyes combing over the textbooks sprawled within his trunk.
"With Lupin, yeah."
Something cold wrapped around his senses, pressing against his skin life soft, dainty fingers. It reeked of familiarity - the strange sensation wrapped around his neck, combing gently through the hair on his head.
Harry turned. Emily's diary sat at the bottom of his trunk, looking as worn as ever. There was a hole in the center, as expected - but there was something . . . off about it, something strange. Harry pressed a finger to the tattered edge, his eyes widening in alarm.
The hole used to be bigger. It can't have been this small.
Harry shook his head, smothering his fear. The heat in his veins died down as he forced his gaze aside. Bespectacled eyes landed upon a large, brown textbook sat at one end of the trunk -
"'The Essential Defense Against the Dark Arts' by Arsenius Jigger." Harry read aloud, removing it from his trunk, "Got it. Come on, we'd better get going."
The trunk slowly clicked shut. Harry pushed it against the end of his bed before making his way out the door with Nott.
"What do you think Lupin will be like?" asked Nott as they made their way through the portrait hole, "He seemed to know his stuff in the train."
"I reckon he's at least halfway decent." muttered Harry, "Dumbledore's been trying to get him to work here for at least a few years."
Nott turned, an eyebrow raised.
"Hagrid told me." Harry explained, "Apparently he was a friend of my dad's."
Nott nodded slowly, following after Harry as they made their way up towards the Defense classroom. They reached the corridor with a few minutes to spare. Harry glanced over the small line of third-year students, all from either Gryffindor or Slytherin. Daphne stood at the very end, watching him with a soft smile.
"Where were you?" she asked quietly, "I didn't see you at lunch."
"I forgot my book." Harry muttered, "But nevermind that. Did you hear about Malfoy -"
"- getting all scratched up by a Hippogriff?" Daphne interrupted, "Yes, I did - Pansy wouldn't shut up about it at lunch."
"It wasn't that bad." said Nott, leaning against the wall beside Harry, "Just a bit bloody. Madam Pomfrey could probably heal it in a second."
"Yeah, but it's Malfoy." said Harry with a grimace, "You know damn well he'll milk it for all it's worth."
Creak.
The trio looked up. Professor Lupin stood by the doorway, beckoning them all inside.
"Good afternoon." he said, placing a tatty old briefcase on the teacher's desk, "Please place your bags by your desk and follow me. We'll be having your first lesson in the staff's lounge. You need only your wands."
Nearly two dozen bags fell to the floor as the students exchanged curious looks. They all followed Professor Lupin out the classroom and through the halls that led towards the teacher's room. They reached it at long last, and Professor Lupin once again beckoned them all inside.
The staffroom, a long, paneled room full of old, mismatched chairs, was empty except for one teacher. Professor Snape was sitting in a low armchair, watching with narrowed eyes as the class filed in. He watched carefully as Professor Lupin made to close the door, standing up.
"Leave it open, Lupin. I'd rather not witness this."
Snape strode past the class, his black robes billowing behind him. Harry watched as he made his way through the doorway and out of sight.
"Now then," began Professor Lupin from the end of the room, "to business -"
Creak.
Something wobbled just out of sight. Harry turned, his eyes landing on a door at the end of the room. He wasn't the only one, either; dozens of students watched the door nervously, their wands held aloft.
"Ah, yes." said Lupin calmly, "The subject of our lesson."
Harry watched as the man made his way towards the door, tapping it thrice with his wand.
"Behind this door is a small room Mr. Filch uses as a storage closet." Lupin told them all, "Should you look on any other day, you'll have found only a cupboard and a few cleaning supplies.
"Today, however, there is something else hidden within." Lupin finished, "A Boggart, to be precise. Does anyone know what that is?"
A few hands raised into the air. Harry watched them all with trepidation, a sinking feeling in his chest.
"Yes, Miss Granger?"
"Boggarts are shapeshifters." Hermione answered nervously from the front of the room, "They take the shape of whatever a particular person fears the most."
"Correct indeed." said Lupin kindly. He slowly made his way toward them, waving them all back as he did.
"As of now, the Boggart in Mr. Filch's cupboard is formless." he told them all, "No one is quite sure what a Boggart looks like when it is alone - but, should it encounter someone, it will take the form of whatever that person most fears.
"The charm that repels a Boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a Boggart is laughter. All you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing - laugh in the face of fear, so to speak.
"We'll practice the spell without wands first. After me, please . . . Riddikulus!"
"Riddikulus!" the class shouted back.
"Again!"
"Riddikulus!"
"With heart!" yelled Lupin, "Be happy! Loosen up, and think just how ridiculous you look! All together now - and go!"
"RIDDIKULUS!"
"Very good, very good!" said Lupin, smiling, "In a moment you may choose to face the Boggart, but I'd like a quick word beforehand."
The class quieted down. A few stray eyes jumped to the door at the end of the room. Harry watched as the handle of the door shook slightly before returning his attention to Lupin.
"Firstly," said Lupin, "Know that this spell is different to the magic you are used to using. It does not do anything special. It merely allows you to project your emotions with the help of magic - to force the Boggart into whatever it is that makes you happy. As I said, you must truly laugh in the face of your fears. No amount of magical talent will help you if you can not find happiness within yourself.
"Secondly, please remember that the Boggart, though it may appear threatening, is not particularly dangerous. It can not physically hurt you - it can do nothing more than scare you. Do you all understand?"
The class nodded along, each of them watching the door in the corner.
"Good. If you'd like to participate, please form a single file line. You'll go in one at a time, on your own. What we fear can often be something intimate - it isn't something you have to share with us all. Should you need my assistance, simply call for me and I will come. If you don't wish to participate, you may stand off to the side - I'm more than willing to tell you all as much as I know of Boggarts. Is that clear?"
Once again, the entire class nodded along.
"Then let's begin."
All of the students crammed themselves into a line. No one seemed particularly interested in sitting this one out, although a few seemed more than a little nervous.
"Ready, Mr. Longbottom?
Harry glanced up. At the front of the line stood Neville. Harry watched as the plump boy slowly nodded, making his way towards the door. The ends of Neville's lips quivered nervously, but Harry saw something shining in his eyes - something fixed, something determined.
Strange.
The door slowly creaked open. Harry heard someone giggle from within - it was a horrible laugh, one like nails being scratched along a chalkboard - but a moment later the door shut, and the room fell silent.
Minutes passed. Harry watched as a grandfather clock off to one side of the room ticked onwards, the minute hand slowly pushing forward. After what felt like forever, the door opened again, revealing a triumphant Neville.
"Very good Neville, very good!" cheered Lupin, clapping, "Alright, who's next?"
The line slowly trickled forward. Some took longer than others - one girl, Parvati Patil, was there for nearly five minutes - but everyone seemed to manage it eventually. Harry listened as a few of them huddled up in a corner of the room, talking about what they had seen.
"- a Banshee!" whispered Seamus excitedly.
"Mine was this great big snake!"
"I had a bloody stump of a hand." said Dean, "It chased after me and everything!"
"My Boggart was your fat whale of a mum!"
"Oh, very funny aren't you -"
"PROFESSOR!" shrieked a terrified voice from inside the room, "PROFESSOR LUPIN!"
Harry's head spun. Professor Lupin ran across the length of the room, his fingers wrapping around the rattling door knob before shoving the door open. Harry heard sobbing from inside, and Professor Lupin's voice rang through the room.
"Riddikulus!"
Crack.
The door swung open, revealing none other than Hermione Granger. Tears streamed down her face as she shakily made her way across the room.
"She told me I f-failed." Hermione cried quietly, "She said I wasn't g-good enough, that'd I'd never be good enough -"
Someone snickered in the background. Harry watched as more than a few people rolled their eyes.
"That's quite alright, Hermione." said Lupin kindly, ignoring the others, "Everyone, if you could please gather around!"
A small huddle formed around Professor Lupin as the students edged closer. Professor Lupin handed Hermione a piece of chocolate before he began to speak.
"What you just witnessed was a different sort of fear." he told them softly, "I'm sure many of you are afraid of more . . . trivial things - spiders, dragons, and so on. But as we grow older, our fears bend, contort, and transform into something far more complex. Loss, death, aging, failure - that sort of thing."
The class stirred. No one seemed to be smiling anymore.
"Know that it is more than okay to be afraid." said Lupin quietly, "In fact, I'd call you a fool if you weren't. The day you cease to feel fear is the day you've lost it all."
Lupin watched as Hermione quietly dried her tears, smiling reassuringly at her. He waved his wand, and a white handkerchief soared across the air, sinking into Hermione's grasp.
"There was a time, once, when I was very afraid." Lupin muttered, "I had a friend with me then. He told me something, and till the day I die I'll never forget it."
Amber eyes combed across the classroom before finally landing on Harry.
"'Bravery is courage in the face of fear, not in its absence.'" Lupin quoted, "If there's one thing to learn from all I can offer you, it is that."
The class all nodded slowly. Harry watched as Lupin's gaze shifted, returning to the door in the corner.
"Let's try this again, shall we?" Lupin asked them all, "Carry on!"
The remaining students formed a line once more. Harry watched as Lupin turned to Hermione, his eyes narrowing slightly.
A friend . . .
"Are you alright?"
Harry turned. Daphne stood just before him. Her icy blue eyes watched him carefully, betraying more than a hint of concern. Harry nodded reassuringly, plastering a false smile upon his features.
"I think so." he whispered, "Reckon you know what your Boggart will be?"
Daphne nodded slowly.
"Death." she muttered quietly, her fingers pressed tight against the edge of her robes, "Loss. That sort of thing."
She watched as he glanced uncertainly at the door before them.
"Think it'll be the same for you?"
Harry shook his head.
"A bit more specific, I reckon."
A pitch black book flew through his mind, crashing against the statue of a large, bearded man - Salazar Slytherin. Before it stood the girl with every-changing eyes. She smiled at him almost tauntingly, an arm outstretched -
"My turn." whispered Daphne morosely, "Wish me luck."
The floorboards creaked beneath her as Daphne approached the door. Harry watched as it swung itself open, the door knob rattling all the while. It slammed shut the moment Daphne was inside, shielding her from view.
Seconds turned to minutes. Harry watched as the doorknob shook, the door pressing against its frame in the wall. Something crashed inside the room, and a voice rang from within -
The door swung open. Daphne slowly stepped out, closing the door behind her. Her eyes latched onto Harry's, and she stared at him as though she had never seen him in her life. Something shined in her eyes, and the girl straightened up, stepping to the side.
"Your turn, Harry." said Professor Lupin, leaning against the side of the wall, "I'm sure you can do it. Just give a shout if you need anything."
Harry nodded. He quickly crossed the length of the room, his fingers wrapping tightly around the doorknob. It turned, and Harry swung the door wide open.
The room was almost completely empty. A large cupboard sat opposite him, its back pressed against the old brick wall. Scratches covered the wood, and a large dent covered the bottom drawer. One of the handles had fallen off, too. It lay upon the floor, rolling around almost aimlessly.
Creak.
The cupboard slowly slid open. Long, slim fingers curled around the front of the drawer. It gently swung open, and someone beautiful appeared from within.
Long, pitch-black hair fell past her shoulders. Pale skin stared back at him, accompanied by hazel eyes and high cheekbones. She was older than Harry - a fifth year, perhaps. The ends of her lips curved upwards, and she edged closer.
"Harry." she hissed longingly, a hand reaching towards him, "I've missed you. I've never missed anyone before."
Harry twitched angrily. His lips thinned, and he felt his head tilt to the side.
You've been doing better. Don't fall for it now.
The girl slowly straightened up. Her eyes were glistening. Harry watched as a single tear streaked down her cheek, falling to the floor beneath her. Her eyebrows hunched together as her lips tightened into a thin line.
"Why'd you leave?" she asked softly, "Why'd you hurt me? We were friends. We could have been family."
Heat flared up in Harry's chest, and anger wrapped itself around him like cruel, jagged ropes. They pressed tightly into his skin, poking venomously at his heart. Harry's palms balled into fists, and his eyes narrowed dangerously.
"You hurt me." he spat, "You killed my family -"
"Not on purpose." she hissed back, "I didn't know. You know I didn't know."
The girl leaned forward. Darkness pooled at her feet, snaking across the floor. It wrapped lovingly around his feet, pressing against his side like a child vying for affection. Emily watched it carefully, her gaze sliding back to Harry. Her frown vanished, and something serious burnt in her eyes.
"We used to take care of each other." she muttered, "I used to read you stories before bed. You used to keep me company. Or did you forget?"
Emily leaned closer. Soft, gentle fingers pressed against the side of his skull, and her eyes stared into his own.
"You don't hate me, do you?" she realised aloud, "You hate her. Voldemort."
Hazel eyes flickered. Something burnt beneath them, and scarlet eyes like hot coals flared into existence. The girl's head crooked to the side, and her features shifted.
Black hair grew longer. Sharp, prominent cheekbones rose higher, and the false light in her eye grew brighter than ever before. Harry watched as Lady Voldemort straightened up, the ends of her lips curving upwards.
"That's what you're afraid of." crooned the woman, her voice now higher and colder. She laughed tauntingly, her bloodlike eyes bathing the room in a scarlet glow.
"You." she began, pointing a long, thin finger at Harry, "You would stay up for hours every night, talking to Lady Voldemort. The woman who took everything from you. The woman who killed your own mother before your very eyes."
"No." sputtered Harry, stepping back, "No, I didn't -"
"Yes, you did." hissed Voldemort, "And you didn't hate it. The opposite, really. You loved it. You cherished every moment of it - you still do -"
"Shut up." snarled Harry, "Shut the fuck up -"
"Or what?" she asked dangerously, "You'll hurt me? You'll kill me?"
"Something like that -"
"Liar." Voldemort edged closer, her fingers sliding across the edge of his jaw, "You couldn't even destroy my diary properly. Do you want to know why?"
"Shut. Up."
"Because you didn't want to. Because you still don't want to -"
"I said shut up -"
"- BECAUSE YOU'VE GOT TO MEAN IT, HARRY!" she roared. The shadows by his feet wrapped around his neck, pressing dangerously against his windpipe -
The woman edged closer. Her lips pressed softly against his cheeks before moving to his ear.
"And you don't mean it." she whispered, "You never will."
Harry's fingers wrapped around his wand. He tore it from his pocket, slashing it before his chest.
Crack.
The woman with the scarlet eyes was gone. So was the girl, and the shadows by her feet. Harry stood in the center of an almost empty room, accompanied by nothing more than a battered cupboard pressed against an aging brick wall.
He groaned, his wand slipping from his grasp. It clattered upon the ground as Harry sank to his knees. Hoarse, heavy coughs rang through the room as he stared at the ground beneath him, doing his best to hold himself up. He watched with unseeing eyes as specks of blood splashed across the stone floor, dripping from his lips.
The door behind him slowly creaked open, and Harry pushed himself off the floor.