Chapter 25: Twenty Five

Notes:

Warning - lemon in this chapter.

Chapter Text

X

Harry's knees hit the hard, wet rock with a thud as he fell, and he threaded his fingers through his hair and tugged roughly as he saw Healer Murphy's prone form drop to the ground, the body not flinching even when the head smashed open on the jagged floor.

The Inferi stopped moving, and a bright flash of orange surrounded the cave, driving the screeching Inferi back into the murky waters.

Harry leant back on his calves, moving his arms to wrap around his body to try and stop himself shaking. He was crying heavier than he ever had done in his life, and it felt like a piece of him had been torn away from the rest of his body.

Tom crouched down beside him, and loosely drew him into a one-armed hug, almost like Tom was trying to comfort him but wasn't quite sure how.

"You still continue to surprise me," Tom murmured softly, forcefully pulling Harry to his feet. Harry combatted Tom's attempts at leaving by throwing his arms around him and sobbing into his chest. Tom's arms remained by his sides, but Harry didn't care; he just needed something to hold onto.

"H-how could I have done that?" he stammered, his voice muffled against Tom's chest.

"You obviously wanted her to die; no matter how much you may regret it now, the Killing Curse can only be effective if the caster has powerful desire," Tom said. "Why are you upset, precious? You saved her from a far worse fate, and she gave you no benefits for being alive."

"She still had a life," Harry ground out, clutching at Tom tighter. "And I just took it away from her in a flash."

"Her husband was long gone, her son dead; she had nothing to live for; her death is hardly a tragedy. That woman was destined to die here; whether by the Killing Curse, the Inferi or by thirst; the choice was up to us. I know you understand that too, yet you're fooling yourself into thinking her death mattered, when really it doesn't; you just can't stand the thought that you did it yourself," Tom stated, his arms finally closing around Harry. "You did nothing wrong, darling, nothing wrong at all."

"I just feel like I've been ripped apart inside; I feel like I've been shattered into pieces, like I'm not me anymore," Harry sobbed, and he felt Tom shake his head. "Can you just hold me for a little while?" Harry whispered, clutching at Tom as though his life depended on it.

"We're leaving here first," Tom stated, pushing Harry away from him and tugging him towards the rowing boat. Harry couldn't really register what was happening, and he blindly allowed Tom to steer him, following him silently away from the cave.

He didn't even protest as Tom gently pulled him into the sea, and then Apparated them away.

They landed in an old house, which looked like it hadn't been lived in for years. There were dust covered armchairs that were now a faded red, though must have looked magnificent at first, and they were highlighted with pale mahogany. The same ancient mahogany was used on the table and the cabinets, which still held bottles that looked like they hadn't been drank, or even touched, for a century.

"Where are we?" Harry asked hoarsely; the pressure of Apparition had caused his tears to dry up, but he could still feel the wetness prickling behind his eyes, threatening to fall at any moment.

"This was the home of my father, and his parents too," Tom told him, his words dripping with venom.

"Why are we here?" he pressed on, blinking away the tears so he could examine Tom; he seemed relaxed and at ease, yet there was a dark look in his eyes too.

"It was in this room, when I was your age, that I killed them all," Tom said without a hint of emotion in his voice. "That was my intention when I visited; I wanted my father to suffer for abandoning us simply because he found out his wife was magical. He was nothing more than vermin, and I wanted him to pay. That is where you differ from me; I felt nothing but pleasure from the rush of taking another's life. I felt no remorse or sorrow, but you, darling, you committed murder yet kept your purity as much as you could. There are plenty of monsters in this world, myself included, but remember that even angels can fall."

Harry wiped his eyes angrily with the back of his hands, and nodded. If he were truly evil, he wouldn't have felt so upset by Murphy's death, and he reasoned he had at least spared her a worse fate. However, that didn't mean he was alright with killing; far from it. He couldn't imagine being able to strike down a person who had so much to live for, and with no other reason for departing the world.

He wondered how Tom had done it; how he decided that his family were to die by his hand. He looked to the sofa; had Tom's father sat there all those years ago, killed in his seat by the son he abandoned?

A vivid image of a man much similar looking to Tom warped in his mind, a look of terror overcoming his face before there was a flash of green light, and then the eyes were gone, the look of terror continuing even in death.

He blinked rapidly as the image faded away.

Tom was looking at him curiously.

"Interesting," the man muttered, gesturing for Harry to stand beside him. Harry complied, and Tom turned him to face a mirror, where their reflection was hidden behind a grimy layer of grey. "Your eyes are different," Tom stated simply, clearing the dust with a wave of his hand.

Harry stared hard at his mirror image, not really noticing any difference. His face looked pale, but marred with the pink stains caused by his tears, and the only thing he saw immediately about his eyes were that they were red-rimmed. He knew Tom didn't cry, or possibly couldn't, but surely he must know what happened when others got tearful? He frowned; Tom wasn't stupid, so he peered closer, then gasped and took a step back.

It was hard to tell at first, but on close inspection, his vivid green eyes were now speckled with dark grey and red; the colours of Tom's eyes.

"What's happened to them?" he questioned quietly, turning his face to examine the colours at the different angles.

"It is my belief," Tom started, looking at Harry through the mirror intently, "that when you killed that woman, your soul split, as always happens with murder. However, your soul already homes a small part of my own, so as yours has broken, mine filled its place."

That would explain that vivid image he had just seen.

He decided he should check with Tom. "Does that mean anything? I just saw this quick vision of your father dying; he looked just like you."

Tom's expression darkened, and Harry wondered if he had said too much.

"That sounds possible," he said after a moment of studying Harry. "You shall have to keep a record of any changes and notify me. I shouldn't bother with a Glamour Charm for your eyes if I were you; you'd have to look very deeply to notice."

"You noticed," Harry pointed out, making Tom smirk.

"Well you have me rather enchanted," he commented, stepping in front of Harry and pressing his lips to his.

Harry pulled back after a short moment, his conscience telling him he shouldn't be forgetting what he had done so soon.

"You can reflect all you like," Tom said, knowing what Harry was thinking, "but it shan't bring her back; you are better forgetting and moving on."

"How can I?" Harry asked defiantly. "According to you part of my soul is broken away; I'm sure that will be noticeable."

"Yes; yes it has broken away…I wonder…" Tom mused aloud, and Harry had never seen Tom so distracted, even if it did last only a couple of seconds. "If you are worried about your soul shard, I can help you get rid of it."

Harry opened his mouth to question what Tom meant, but then realisation hit him.

"You want me to make a Horcrux," he stated softly, not even needing clarification.

"Your own Horcrux status shall give you the means to live forever, however there are some ways in which you can be destroyed, though rare they may be. A Horcrux would give you extra security, and enable me to resurrect you should your death occur."

Harry considered it; Tom had been part of a Horcrux himself, and his older self had created many more, although Voldemort wasn't particularly pleasant, in both looks and personality. But if there was something wrong with them, Voldemort wouldn't have done it so many times.

He supposed it was probably very Dark magic, but he had already tainted himself now.

"On our travels to Egypt, we could find you an artefact you connect with, and use it to house your soul fragment," Tom said over his thought. "With your magical abilities, you could lock it deep away in a tomb or pyramid, never to be found by any other."

"I'll do it," Harry said with a smile.

“Lovely,” Tom announced, flashing his teeth in a smile that made Harry swoon. He moved to stand behind Harry, wrapping his arms around him and pressing his very obvious erection into Harry’s behind. His grinding gave Harry a clear message of what Tom wanted.

“Not here,” Harry muttered, trying to move away from Tom slightly, but the man pulled him back, placing gentle kisses up the side of his neck.

“You look so innocent and frail, yet you have so much power; I love to see you controlling the filth of this world,” Tom growled into Harry’s ear. “You stay sweet in your corrupted state; let me taste your taint.”

He spun Harry round, pressing their lips together in a dominating kiss. Tom’s hands had travelled underneath his jeans, and the gentle strokes were clouding Harry’s mind, pushing away the thoughts that he should be having; a woman had just died by his hands, and they were at a murder scene; it was hardly romantic, but Tom’s hands and mouth were just so good; he couldn’t say no.

Harry found himself being edged backwards until his legs hit the sofa, and he collapsed onto it, bringing Tom with him.

“This is where my father sat when I killed him,” Tom hissed into his ear, and Harry whimpered. “Let us defile his memory even further.”

He pressed Harry until he lay down, and made quick work of unbuttoning his shirt.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Harry whispered, groaning as Tom sucked at a nipple, biting down hard on it. “I just killed someone-“

“Exactly,” Tom argued, a hand unbuttoning Harry’s jeans and yanking them down his thighs.

“But-“Harry tried to protest, losing the words in his mouth when Tom licked at his thighs, biting into the creamy skin. Tom’s tongue travelled up, darting at Harry’s hard cock, and he yelped when Tom took the head into his mouth. He had sucked off Tom plenty of times, but he had never had Tom do the same to him.

“Quiet, darling,” Tom said teasingly, pushing a finger inside of him as he took more of Harry into his mouth.

He cried out when Tom hit his prostate, whimpering when Tom pulled away, only for the older boy to tear a piece of Harry’s discarded shirt off and push it into his mouth.

“I warned you,” Tom smirked, looking at Harry wickedly. He gathered Harry’s wrists together and cast Incarcerous, binding them tightly, before returning to suck him.

His tongue licked a path across his cock, darting inside the slit, just as he added another finger to his hole. Harry whined loudly through the gag.

His legs were pushed up, bent towards his chest, and then the mouth travelled down, replacing the fingers in his arse with a tongue.

Harry writhed as the warm muscle drove inside of him, lapping at his hole with ferocity.

Tom smirked at him when he whined after the older boy pulled away, and his gag was pulled out so Tom could kiss him, allowing Harry to taste his own body.

Tom pulled back, shoving the gag back in, and moved Harry’s legs to wrap around his waist, giving him no warning before thrusting inside him.

Tom moved at a frenzied speed, thrusting hard and fast without any time for Harry to adjust.

“You’re so pretty, stretched around my cock,” Tom groaned into Harry’s ear; dirty talk was new for Tom. “You’re made to be dominated by me; you’re my little pet.” He thrust particularly hard, hitting Harry’s prostate and making the boy mewl into the cloth in his mouth.

“All that control you had earlier, it means nothing to me,” Tom continued, assaulting Harry’s prostate with each thrust. “You may have proved yourself to them, and that pleases me, but to me, you’re nothing more than mine to corrupt and defile. You enjoy that, don’t you, being tainted by me?”

Harry nodded, whimpering as Tom pulled out of him and dragged him off the sofa, bending him over the table, with his hands still tied, stretched out in front of him.

The mirror floated down, stopping before them, enlarged so he could see everything.

Tom gripped hold of Harry’s hips hard, watching his cock disappear inside of Harry.

“Look at yourself; willingly submitting to me. You’re so perfect, pet,” Tom said lowly, his mirrored eyes never leaving Harry’s.

Harry tried to grind against the table, his untouched cock aching, desperate for release.

“Do you want me to touch you?” Tom panted in his ear, and he yanked the gag from Harry’s mouth. “Tell me who you belong to.”

“I’m yours, Tom, yours,” Harry cried, almost sobbing with desire. A cold hand wrapped around his cock, unmoving. Harry tried to buck into the fist, but Tom simply tightened his hold.

“Tell me you love me,” Tom ordered. “Tell me you love me, and only me; tell me nobody else will ever hold a spot in your innocent heart, tainted by me alone.”

“I love you, Tom; I love you!” Harry cried, dropping his head onto the table when moved his hand slowly. Tom’s other hand yanked on Harry’s hair to pull his head back up. “There will be nobody else, only you. I’m yours; I want you to ruin me.”

Harry screamed in pleasure, as he came over Tom’s fingers, and he felt Tom release inside him, flooding his insides with warmth.

Tom pulled out, turning Harry over and kissing him deeply. His bindings fell apart, and Harry’s hands found their way into Tom’s hair, and he kissed Tom back passionately until they had to pull away for air.

“I will ruin you,” Tom whispered, resting his forehead against Harry’s, “in the way that an artist creates their masterpiece.”

X

Afterwards, Harry berated himself for being so weak-minded, but he had to admit that Tom certainly made it easy for him to forget everything, although afterwards he ending up feeling guilty, because he just couldn't find it in him to regret what he had done.

His mind had lingered on this until they arrived back at the Potter home; if Tom noticed his discomfort he didn't bother to say anything.

The clock in Harry's room said it was just past eleven; they had been gone for almost three hours.

"Shit! Is that the time?" he hissed, and he ran from the room, coming up with a million excuses in his head for his parents who had probably realised he had been missing.

But when he got downstairs, Remus was sat in an armchair with a book in his hands, only he seemed to be more focused on the fireplace than his novel, biting down on his lip with a worried expression.

"Remus?" he called gently.

The werewolf jumped slightly; he must have really been out of focus to have not noticed him, but he quickly masked his emotions with a warm smile.

"Hello, Harry," he greeted. "Are you alright? You look upset," he mused, his smile turning to a frown. "Would you like a piece of chocolate? It's a Muggle brand, and it's rather delicious," he offered, holding out a bar of chocolate.

Though he had no appetite, Harry accepted it more out of duty than anything; he had learnt many years ago it was better to go along with Remus' chocolate obsession.

"I'm alright, "Harry lied, biting into the chocolate and relishing in the sweet, creamy taste. "Is everything ok? Are Mum and Dad not back yet?"

"Not yet, no," the man answered, a crease forming in his forehead.

"Where did they actually go?" Harry continued, and Remus shrugged.

"They didn't have time to tell me," he stated with a sigh. "They've been alright with me, but I can see how much I hurt them, especially James; I don't know if I can forgive myself for running."

"I forgave you long ago," Harry smiled. "I'm sure my parents will have done too; if we can do it, so can you."

"Hmm," Remus murmured. "You look exhausted, Harry; you should get to bed. You seem so healthy that it's easy to forget you're recovering."

"Hardly; I'm just a bit sore and that will clear itself in days," Harry retorted, which made Remus snort.

"You are so like your father; you dismiss serious injuries like they're nothing," the werewolf said, smiling fondly. "Still, it's late; you get yourself to bed, and I promise I'll tell you when they get back."

"Goodnight," Harry agreed, following Remus' worried eyes to the fireplace before heading back up the stairs.

As he headed onto the landing, a door creaked open, and Heather popped her head round the door.

"Oh," she said, her face falling when she saw Harry. "I thought Mum and Dad might be back; do you think they're okay? They've been gone for ages."

"Remus thinks so," Harry answered, trying to give what he hoped was an encouraging smile.

It was strange; despite knowing his parents were in the Order of the Phoenix, he never worried about their safety more than other students worried about their own families, but knowing they were out with some sort of emergency seemed to make everything seem more real.

"Are you okay?" Heather pressed on. "You look like you've been crying."

"I'm alright," he said, repeating the lie he told Remus just a few minutes prior.

Heather looked at him sceptically for a moment before giving up on questioning him any further. "I'm tired," she muttered, yawning to emphasise her point. "Can you wake me up if something happens?"

"Sure," Harry nodded, and his sister gave him a small smile before shutting the door.

When he finally made it to his own room, Tom was standing by his window, staring out in the night sky.

"I could have easily told you your parents hadn't returned yet," was Tom's greeting.

"Are you sure Voldemort hasn't done anything?" Harry asked, frowning when Tom nodded.

"They certainly have been a while," Tom mused. "I wonder if the Dark Lord will hear of it."

Harry stayed silent, changing into his pyjamas before clambering under his bed covers with a frown.

"It'll be bad if he knows, won't it?" Harry questioned, and Tom looked thoughtful.

"Perhaps; it depends on whether Slytherin is making his presence known or is using others to achieve his goals," the other boy said, glancing back out of the window.

"Are you not coming to bed?" said Harry, watching Tom curiously; through the shadows he saw the man shake his head.

"I have much to consider; you sleep," he responded. Harry was grateful when he felt Tom's Sleeping Charm wash over him, and he fell into the welcoming darkness.

X

There were trees all around him, the moon above seeping through the gaps in the treetops and casting small pools of bright light on the ground.

He was running, but he didn't feel like he was being chased; no, rather he was chasing something. He could feel adrenaline coursing through his veins as he hunted his prey.

There were others around him, all panting as they sprinted through the thick trees.

He ducked, narrowly missing a red beam of light that hit somebody behind him who fell to the floor with a thud, but he didn't look back; he had to keep on running.

He caught a glimpse of the back of his victim in the darkness; it looked like a male, with shaggy black hair which seemed almost familiar.

The hunted man stumbled over a root on the ground, and he darted forwards, dodging the spells the man was frantically throwing, and then he lunged, dragging the person to the muddy floor…

Harry awoke with a start; his heart was thumping heavily in his chest, and his forehead was damp with sweat. The dream had felt so real, and something in him was eating away at him, telling him something wasn't right.

He turned over to mention this to Tom, but Tom was asleep.

Harry had never seen him asleep before; he always stayed awake until Harry had fallen into a slumber, even using the Sleeping Charm to ensure this, and Tom was always awake seemingly hours before Harry's body could actually make a response.

He looked rather peaceful. Harry could easily lie in bed and stare at Tom until daylight; he truly was handsome, with sharp cheekbones, and eyelashes that contrasted strikingly against his pale skin. Looking upon Tom now, it was impossible to see a man who was a killer.

He was drawn from his pleasant musings by a bang and shouting coming from downstairs.

He glanced towards his door, wishing he could see through it. The clock in the corner of his eye told him it was two in the morning; anything that happened at this time of night couldn't be good.

"Tom?" he hissed quietly, shaking the man gently to wake him up. Tom seemed to instantly open his eyes, somehow looking alert and wide awake. "I think something's wrong."

Tom sat up opened his mouth to say something, but stopped with a frown.

"The Dark Lord is calling me," he stated simply. His eyes travelled to the door when more raised voices came from beyond. "Nobody has beached these Wards."

Tom stood, and Harry had a glimpse of silky black pyjamas before they were replaced with his usual impeccable suit. He nodded and then Apparated; Harry didn't even have time to see the dust settle before he darted for his door and ran downstairs, his wand clutched firmly in his grip.

He entered the living room, where Remus and Severus were standing, staring at each other with wild eyes.

"What's going on?" Harry asked, stifling a yawn as fresh anxiety started to bubble inside of him.

"James is at St. Mungo's," Remus told him, his tone gentle. "He got injured, though we aren't sure how severely."

"It isn't life threatening," Snape cut in sharply.

"Harry, go get some shoes on and wake Heather please; we'll leave as soon as you two are ready," Remus pressed on, and Harry nodded before running back up the stairs and hammering on his sister's door.

"What?" she said groggily, rubbing her eyes as she answered.

"Dad's in the hospital," he told her; she instantly seemed to wake up.

"Is he okay? What happened?" she questioned frantically, her eyes growing wider with each second.

"I don't know," he frowned. "Remus says to get ready so we can leave."

Heather nodded and shut the door; he could hear her shuffling about as she rushed to get ready.

Harry did the same, running to his room. He pulled open his wardrobe door forcefully, and grabbed the first pair of shoes he could find, pulling out a grey hoody which he put on whilst heading downstairs. He didn't think he had the time to change from his sweat pants into jeans; he just hoped nobody would see him in this state, especially considering his recently-fucked and bed ruffled hair.

Heather was just behind him, her hair also sticking up at the back, and wearing a long coat over her nightdress.

She looked like she was ready to burst into tears at any second, but seemed to be fighting to hold it back.

Snape held out a Portkey without a word, and they all grabbed hold of it, allowing the Portkey to take them to the chilly streets of London, which were filled with a treacherous silence.

Heather grabbed hold of Harry's hand, and they silently followed the adults through the window of the run down building, used to fool Muggles to disguise the hospital, which then opened into the main atrium.

Severus headed over to the reception desk, while Remus glanced suspiciously around. Despite the early hour of the morning, there were still Healers bustling about, and men and women with odd injuries sat in the waiting area.

"He's on the first floor," Snape informed them as he left the reception desk with a scowl.

"First floor?" Harry questioned, looking at the board which held the information for the separate floors. "That's for creature injury."

Remus seemed to walk rather briskly up the stairs, while Snape seemed in no hurry to get there. Heather and Harry were left in the middle; he watched as she nervously chewed her lip.

"It was only a couple of days ago that we were crowded around you in a hospital bed," Heather said quietly. "Do you think whatever tried to hurt you got Dad too?"

Harry certainly hoped not. Although…he blanched at the thought that ran through his head; in his dream he had been chasing down a man with messy hair. He stopped dead in his tracks; Heather looked at him worriedly.

"You've gone really pale; do you feel okay?" she muttered, tugging him forwards when Remus turned around to check on them.

They followed the werewolf into a ward at the end of the corridor, which only seemed to house James and another figure in a bed further down.

Lily was standing by James' bed, clutching his hand tightly, but she smiled when she saw them enter, although it seemed incredibly forced.

James, on the other hand, smiled brightly at the sight, and he held his arm out as Heather and Harry rushed to him, pulling them into a one armed hug.

"We were worried about you, Daddy," Heather sobbed, and Harry stood back to allow her room.

"You don't need to worry about me; I've got you kids to keep me going," James grinned.

Lily had gone to speak with Remus and Severus in hushed tones, and Harry couldn't help but feel he was missing something.

"What happened?" Harry asked, checking over his father. His eyes ran up and down his covered form; something seemed off, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. James' eyes seemed to focus on his legs as he noticed what Harry was doing, and as he zoned in; he thought something was off about the covers, very much so.

"I got mauled by a werewolf," James said quietly, with a brief glance at Remus who had paled.

"But it's not the full moon," Heather pointed out, her gaze becoming suspicious.

"The werewolves we ran into, well, they were very open about their lycanthropy, even going as far as acting as animalistic as they can, even in their human forms," their father explained. "We got chased down by a group of them, I got separated from the group and one managed to get me; his teeth and finger nails may as well have been fangs and claws, they were that sharp."

"It's gone, isn't it; your leg?" Harry whispered, paling as he stared down at the lower half of his father. He heard Heather emit a horrified gasp.

"The damage was too much," James answered, just as quietly. "I could have easily bled to death, or caught an infection; we tried everything but it was the only way."

"I'm sorry," Harry murmured; James' strong hand gripped onto his shaky one.

"It's not your fault, is it, Prongslet?" his dad said with an encouraging smile, but Harry couldn't shake the feeling of guilt.

"Excuse me," a Healer said, popping their head round the door. "Will Mr. Potter's next of kin please come with me a moment?"

Lily nodded solemnly, and she left with the Healer, with Snape close on her heels.

"Will Dad become a werewolf?" Heather asked, looking at Remus who shook his head.

"I don't believe so; the lycanthropy virus is only present in active werewolves, although I don't think there won't be any side-effects," the werewolf answered, looking thoughtful.

Two more Healers came into the room, their faces hidden by the hoods on their robes. One strode over to the other ward resident, while the other stood facing the wall by James' bed, looking at a clipboard.

"I see we haven't quite finished with you, Mr. Potter," the Healer said, turning around and smiling.

Harry couldn't help but gasp loudly as he instinctively took a step back.

"Harry?" Remus questioned with worry, but Harry couldn't draw his eyes off Marvolo.

"Ulric!" Marvolo shouted, as the door to the ward slammed shut.

The Healer the other end of the room drew out a wand, casting a flash of green light over the person in the bed.

Harry and Remus automatically drew their wands, and Harry grabbed Heather's hand, pulling her to stand behind him.

"Expelliarmus!" Marvolo shouted, catching the four wands which had gone flying towards him; Harry hadn't realised Heather had brought hers.

"Don't you fret, children; being orphaned makes for good character building," Marvolo said with a cruel smirk. "And as for you, Lupin, my friend Ulric over there doesn't like rejection. Once he's finished with Potter you'll be next."

"You wish," James snarled from the bed. Even without a wand, and unable to move to defend himself, he still refused to give up his spirit, which Harry found rather admirable.

Marvolo scoffed and edged slowly towards Harry, Heather and Remus, with his wand aimed at them. Harry stepped even closer to cover Heather, while Remus did the same for him.

Marvolo seemed to dislike that, because with a wave of his wand the werewolf went crashing into the wall, falling unconscious as his head connected with it.

"You lay one hand on my children and I swear you'll be dead," James hissed, using his arms to swing his injured leg over the bed to meet his other. Ulric laughed in the background as the man struggled to stand, having to grip onto the bedside table to balance himself.

"You're fierce; pity it isn't a full moon, or else I'd have made you one of us," the werewolf said in a gruff tone, and he jumped, going from one end of the ward to the other, landing in front of James. "I'll do you a favour, seeing as though you've impressed me; I'll knock you unconscious so you don't have to die screaming like a coward in front of your kids."

"Do your worst," James snarled; he didn't even flinch when Ulric grabbed him and slammed his head against the wall.

Heather yelped behind him, and Harry felt her clutch at him tightly.

He shrugged her off, desperate to run forward and wrestle the werewolf away from his father, but Marvolo had a wand pressed against his chest; Remus' wand.

Harry snatched it from the loose grip Marvolo had on it; for whatever reason, the Dark wizard wanted him to have it, but all he cared about was saving his father.

"Stupefy," he shouted, but a hand with a wand in reached behind the werewolf and deflected the spell with ease, almost like it was nothing while he lowered James onto the bed and stood before him, barring his teeth like a wild dog.

"He's talented, Harry," Marvolo commented almost casually. "He's full of rage; you need that too. Why not go for the trio?"

The trio? The Unforgivable Curses, his mind realised.

Ulric had drawn his hands down James' chest, causing blood to pool to the surface.

Unable to see his father suffer, and knowing he had already committed the worst of the three, he raised the wand, not caring if Heather saw, and shouted "Crucio!"

The werewolf fell off his father, dropping to the floor and writhing in pain.

Heather ran in front of him, trying to tug the wand away, but then she looked him in the eye, shrieked and backed away.

The sound of Marvolo laughing brought him out of the trance he seemed to be in, and he dropped the wand in shock.

"Lovely," Marvolo sang, "just lovely."

"What did you do to him?" Heather hissed, and Harry realised she was talking to Marvolo. "I saw his eyes; they were all red. What spell did you have him under? Is this just some sort of mind torture?"

"Ah, now you stick up for your brother," Marvolo retorted with a dark glare. "You weren't there when it really mattered though, were you?"

Harry saw Heather's face drop; he knew words affected her greatly, and Marvolo knew that too.

"Are you sure I can't have him?" Ulric grumbled as he got to his feet, pointing at the prone form of James.

"Not today," Marvolo snapped. "Don't you think Harry cursed you so prettily?"

Ulric nodded. "I'd have the lot of them right now if I could. The feisty ones always fight back; it makes killing them even sweeter."

"We're all fighters," Remus' voice cut in. "And we aren't going to let you win." The man groggily pushed himself off the floor, swaying on his feet slightly.

Before anyone could respond, the light suddenly vanished from the room, replaced by flashing red.

Loud screams pierced the air from the floor beneath; James stirred in response to the noise.

"I thought your spy said they wouldn't be ready," Marvolo spat at Ulric, who snarled back.

"They weren't meant to be; I've been with you all evening; how was my spy meant to tell me they were ready?" the werewolf growled.

Marvolo seemed to regain his composure first, and he smiled menacingly at Harry.

"Do what you like, Ulric," the Dark wizard offered, gesturing to the group. "I'm taking this one," he added, pointing at Harry, and the lustful look made Harry shiver.

"And if the Death Eaters find me?" the werewolf prompted with a gleeful look.

"Show them why you're on their most-wanted list," Marvolo stated, grabbing hold of Harry's arm and yanking him towards him.

Remus and Heather both got blasted as they rushed forwards.

Marvolo pulled the door open, pushing Harry through and throwing all of the wands onto the floor of the room.

"Let's see if you stand a chance," he mocked, slamming the door behind him. "As for you, Harry, let's go and find your lover; I have a proposition for him."

X

Date: 2015-12-18; view: 563