Chapter 28: Twenty Eight

Notes:

Sorry for the long wait. I had terrible writer's block, but hopefully I'm over it now.

Warning for mentions of self-harm and character death. Yes, it's one of those chapters.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

X

The best thing about being an Animagus was that Harry could control his transformations, and change to and fro whenever he liked. Draco, on the other hand, could not control his change into a werewolf, so by the morning, the blond Slytherin had taken on the form of a sleeping human with his arms wrapped around a fox. Unfortunately, another downside that wouldn't affect Harry as an Animagus, but effected werewolves, was that they didn't change back with their clothing on, resulting in a naked Draco Malfoy hugging him.

Harry supposed he was very grateful that Dumbledore had put so many Protection Charms around the Shrieking Shack, because if Tom had seen Draco's pose, the Slytherin may not have lived to see the next full moon, or most likely the next day.

Harry woke up first, so to allow Draco to not wake up as awkwardly as Harry had, he squirmed out of the blond's arms and transformed back, before conjuring a blanket to cover Draco and protect his modesty.

It was done just in time too; Draco woke up not much later, and even with a blanket covering him, a very faint blush stained his cheeks.

"It was different having you here," Draco commented, as a way of saying good morning.

"Good different or bad different?" Harry mused, staring intently at the walls as he heard the shuffling of clothes as the Slytherin got dressed.

"Good; I get bored easily, you see," Draco explained casually. "Besides, I have the animalistic urge to run about, and it seemed to be more satisfied with you joining me last night, which is good; I despise how, despite the potion, my mind wants me to frolic like a common beast."

"Better than attacking yourself in place of killing," Harry muttered darkly, earning him a glare.

"We better get back soon," Draco stated, ignoring Harry's comment. "I need to have a long, hot shower."

Harry rolled his eyes but nodded, and followed Draco out of the Shrieking Shack and through the tunnel.

"You know, Remus used to sleep in his office at the full moon," Harry remarked as they walked. "Sirius kept him company in his Animagus form, along with using the Wolfsbane Potion, and nobody but Snape and Dumbledore knew about it. Maybe we could sort you out some sort of empty classroom away from everyone."

"I might use the Room of Hidden Things," Draco mused aloud.

They had reached the entrance to the Whomping Willow now, and Harry reached out a hand to stop Draco going through, so he could speak to him without the risk of being overheard.

"Voldemort isn't expecting you today, is he?" Harry asked, trying to keep the nervous tone out of his voice. Draco picked up on it, however.

"No; not until next weekend," was the answer. "Why? You look worried."

"You know how I turned one of Voldemort's Horcruxes into that creep Marvolo?" Draco nodded. "Well, Voldemort found out, and I haven't seen him since."

Draco's horrified expression wasn't exactly comforting.

"He's killed people for doing much less than that," the Slytherin gulped. No, he definitely wasn't being comforting.

"I am aware of that," Harry hissed quietly.

"I hardly doubt Tom would allow you to be killed," Draco responded, managing to finally control his outward emotions. "Though I do wonder how he'll manage it."

"He will," Harry mumbled, trying to reassure himself more than anything. Although, Voldemort had caught sight of his Ancient magic, and hopefully that would intrigue the Dark wizard enough for Harry not to have to go into hiding.

"If I were you," Draco said, interrupting his thoughts. "I'd be more worried about facing the students at breakfast; I've never heard anybody being talked about for so long before."

"Not even the Longbottom and the things he gets up to?" Harry questioned, making Draco smirk.

"Well, no normal person has been talked about so much, just for one incident," the Slytherin corrected himself.

Draco had, indeed, been very correct, for when Harry walked into the Great Hall later, attempting to hide behind two burly students, all eyes seemed to turn to him, and he could hear hushed whispers everywhere.

He plonked himself down in a seat as close to the doors as possible, and almost immediately the other sixth year Gryffindors seemed to be by his side, asking him questions all at the same time.

"Are you okay?"

"Are the rumours true?"

"Was it my fault?"

"Was it because we've not been there for you?"

"Should we have been more comforting about Anderson?"

"No, no," Harry stated firmly, stabbing a fork into the sausage he didn't feel like eating. "I didn't jump; I fell off."

"People can't just fall off," Hermione cut in. "There are magical barriers; they would have to be taken down."

"Well I didn't take them down, but someone did," Harry scowled. "I wouldn't have been so jumpy either, if a giant hadn't been let into the castle."

Hermione and Neville both exchanged guilty looks, and Lavender looked almost triumphant; her arms tightened their grip on Ron, and she smirked mockingly at Hermione.

"You see, Won-Won; she's dangerous to be around," Lavender said, 'whispering' to Ron, though with the obvious intent of Hermione hearing.

Harry thought Lavender would have sounded more malicious and respectable if she hadn't called Ron 'Won-Won'.

"I'm just glad you're feeling better," Parvati said with a bright smile, and the others nodded.

"And that you didn't jump," Dean added, gaining more nods of agreement.

"It was kind of obvious he didn't," Hermione snapped, as though she had tired of their lower intelligence levels. "Heather seemed pretty adamant about defending him; she wouldn't have argued with her friends if it wasn't true."

"Heather's been getting into arguments?" Harry questioned, looking around for sight of his sister; she wasn't in the Great Hall.

"Yeah, her and Romilda Vane had a pretty nasty fight, and you know Romilda; everyone else is too scared of her to disagree with her," Parvati answered, looking sympathetic.

"She's a complete bitch," Lavender agreed. "Even Pansy Parkinson thinks she's horrid."

"I'm going to go find my sister," Harry told the group, standing up from his seat. He had hardly touched his breakfast, but that didn't even seem important anymore.

Once he was alone in a corridor, he pulled the Marauder's Map out from his bag. After his disastrous attempts at trying to find Luna and Draco the previous day, he had decided to keep the Map on him from now on.

Ironically enough, Heather was in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Harry didn't know if Heather knew he had used it as a hide-out for a lot of his Hogwarts life.

"Heather?" he called out softly as he opened the doors to the bathroom.

He heard a very faint clink of something metal hitting the floor and the hurried shuffling of somebody behind a stall, before the door was yanked open.

Heather's face was pale, though her cheeks were somewhat red and puffy. Her eyes were red-rimmed, with tears still stuck on the ends of her eye lashes, and her hair looked wild and tangled.

"Heather, are you alright?" Harry asked, concerned, watching his sister intently as she shoved her hands into her robe pockets and shrugged.

"I heard you fell out with Romilda," Harry continued, trying to prompt Heather to talk.

Before, Heather had always seemed so upbeat and confident, although rather cocky and arrogant at times, yet since the war had started, he had seen it affecting her by causing her distressing anxiety, but he had never once seen her like she was now. She looked almost broken, and Harry knew it couldn't just be a one-off thing, but then again, he had spent so long drawn into his own world, and basically obsessed with Tom, that he hadn't been near his sister long enough to see any other side of Heather than the side she was when with her friends.

"I don't need her anyway," Heather sniffed quietly, stalking over to a mirror and trying to straighten her hair by running her fingers through it, her hands still covered by her sleeves. "Can't you just go away?!" she snapped, turning to glare at Harry when she noticed he was still watching her.

"I'm your brother; I can't leave you like this," he stated, but that seemed to anger Heather more, and tears started to course down her cheeks.

"Exactly!" she fumed. "You're my brother, and you want to stand by me, but I've done nothing for you over the years. I deserve all I've got; I should have done something sooner and I didn't, but I don't need you trying to tell me I deserve kindness when I don't, so leave me alone!"

"Heather, listen-" Harry tried, but Heather growled and stomped off; Harry could feel his heart aching as she ran away.

"She doesn't mean it, you know," a sad voice said, and Harry looked to see Myrtle floating towards him, pearly tears marring her ghostly face. "She's just angry at herself, not you."

"I only want to help her; I don't care about our past," Harry muttered, staring mournfully at the door.

"Give her time," Myrtle assured him. "She's been keeping things to herself for a long time."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked in shock, spinning round to face the ghost again. "I've not seen anything to suggest she's been struggling. What's wrong with her? Please, Myrtle, you have to tell me."

"I promised her I wouldn't," Myrtle sobbed. "She hid everything on purpose so you wouldn't find out. I just wish people wouldn't be so cruel; see how the two of you have turned out because of other people? Olive Hornby refused to apologise to me, even after I spent years haunting her. She bullied me to the death and then made me out to be the horrible one. Of course, she's dead now, but she got to move on, while I'm stuck in this bathroom forever."

Harry knew the ghost could move about the castle, but he decided it wouldn't be a great idea to point this out; he knew what she meant, after all.

"Err, anyway, Myrtle, thank you for telling me what you could," Harry said, trying to prevent Myrtle from going into a rant about her life and death; he had heard it all before, at least five times. "I need to get going to lessons now."

Myrtle nodded and weepily bid him goodbye, and Harry spent the rest of the day in concern of his sister.

X

The week passed far too quickly for Harry's liking. He spent a majority of his free time looking out for Heather, but whether it was simply because her and her friends had fallen out, or whether it was her normal behaviour, he didn't see much of his sister. On the occasions he did, she seemed perfectly fine, spending most of her time laughing with Seamus, but since Harry had seen that pained look in her eyes in the bathroom, he could see it lingering beneath the deep brown irises.

He had also spent a lot of the week being accosted by other students. Ones who believed the truth simply ignored him as the usually did, but others who thought he had tried to kill himself by jumping off the staircase either tearfully embraced him and told him if he ever needed to talk they would be there for him, even though he didn't know half their names, while others questioned how he and Anderson could have planned such a wicked thing together, not understanding Harry had fallen and Anderson had been murdered. The worst people were the ones who told him they wished he had died, or that he purposefully jumped from a safe distance so in their pact, Anderson would die and he wouldn't. Ginny had cast a particularly exceptional Bat-Bogey Hex when she overheard somebody say that, and refused to remove it, despite threat of detention.

His teachers, meanwhile, had decided though he had had a week off school, he needed to catch up with his work, and had piled the work on once more. For once, Potions was his best class because it was a breeze with the Half-blood Prince's book. Ancient Runes was especially hard, as he was doing almost all of Draco's work for him too, which was hard with how much work they were now getting. Daphne Greengrass had apologised to Draco over her behaviour on finding out about his lycanthropy, and offered to do some of his work for him in exchange for a good word to Pansy to get them back together. Unfortunately, Daphne wasn't as good at Ancient Runes as Harry was, and Draco preferred a better grade.

All that couldn't distract him from the impending doom of seeing Voldemort, however. He had heard nothing from Tom; no notes with daring escape plans, or secret instructions, so either Tom was going to help him once he got to the Manor, or he would just let Voldemort kill him, and he sincerely hoped it wasn't the latter.

His common sense tried to reason that Voldemort wouldn't kill him, because he performed wandless magic in front of the man, which should have made him seem too powerful to kill, despite the fact he released part of Voldemort's soul. If Marvolo were to join Voldemort, though it would be terrifying, at least Voldemort would have no reason to mourn the loss of his Horcrux, but he somehow couldn't see that happening, and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Much to Harry's displeasure, Saturday was finally upon them, and while most students were celebrating the break from lessons, besides Hermione who had planned a library day, Harry wished it were Monday again.

He knew that avoiding Voldemort wouldn't end fantastically for him though, so he reluctantly trudged his way through the corridors to meet Draco, having enough trust in Tom that he wouldn't be brutally tortured and murdered.

"Don't look so terrified; that will just encourage him," Draco warned him, and Harry groaned.

"Can we go now? I just want to get this over with. I think waiting and not knowing will send me crazy," Harry muttered, making Draco smirk.

"You may not be a stereotypical Gryffindor, but you certainly have some annoying traits about you," Draco sneered. He held out the Portkey, and Harry hesitated for just a moment before taking hold of it and allowing Draco to activate it.

Malfoy Manor seemed strangely quiet upon their arrival; the only person waiting for them was Voldemort himself, and Harry wasn't sure if he'd be able to walk anywhere as his legs felt like jelly.

He didn't seem to look furious or anything, but Harry didn't know whether that was good or not.

"I will talk to you later, Malfoy," the Dark wizard said coldly, his tone so menacing that Draco hurried off with a quick mumble of 'Yes, my Lord.'

Voldemort turned away from Harry and began to walk to a room; the order to follow him was left unsaid, and Harry felt his feet obey the silent order.

The door shut solemnly behind Harry, and he was suddenly far too aware of the silence around the rest of the Manor, and how it was only him and Voldemort alone together.

He was hit with a Cruciatus Curse almost straight away, and he dropped to the floor, shouting in agony as invisible, burning knives sliced his skin.

The Curse seemed to continue for hours, though it was probably only seconds, and when it was lifted, Harry panted heavily, his body heaving and his limbs shaking uncontrollably.

"A filthy Half-blood like you shouldn't be getting involved where he doesn't belong," Voldemort hissed, and if Harry were not so terrified, he might have pointed out Voldemort was a Half-blood too, no matter how much he denied it to himself.

"I didn't know it was one of your Horcruxes," Harry stated, and from the look of pure evil that flashed over Voldemort's face, he wasn't quite confident it had been the best thing to say.

"I ought to kill you," Voldemort snarled, pointing his wand at Harry. A pain flared up his arm, and he dared to look down, paling as he saw blood staining his sleeve. "Tom could find a new pet; he wouldn't miss you."

Somehow, hearing that hurt more than the torture Voldemort was inflicting on him. From the expression on his face, Harry could tell that if the Dark Lord had lips, they would be curling, as otherwise his features mirrored Tom's.

"That is all you are to him, you know," Voldemort continued, a cruel smile on his face. "A little toy; a vessel. You're worthless to him; he just cares about making you submit to him. He could find another to do that." Harry whimpered; he could feel blood soaking his clothing, and the pain had gotten so intense everything seemed to have now numbed. "And yet, you did not just perform wandless magic that night; you invoked the magic of the Ancients."

Voldemort stalked forwards, and Harry flinched as he roughly pulled Harry to his feet and yanked his sleeve up, showing Harry's blood stained arm, the skin parted deep beneath the blood.

"Heal yourself with it now, or bleed to death," the Dark wizard ordered, and Harry reluctantly obeyed, watching the faint glow settle over his skin. Feeling returned to his arm, with no pain either, and he wiped the blood away with his other sleeve, just in time to see the long, deep scars winding across his arm vanish.

"You are very fortunate, boy," Voldemort snarled, his voice making Harry feel anything but fortunate. "I believe you and Tom are travelling to Egypt together." Harry nodded. "I have a request for an object I wish for Tom to bring back; and you will activate the item for me."

Harry nodded once more, and his eyes glanced at the door, a gesture that caused a cruel smirk to flicker over Voldemort's face.

"Simply because your death has been postponed, doesn't mean you can get away with what you did," Voldemort told him, before casting another Cruciatus Curse at him, and though it lasted a lot less time than the one previous, it was still blinding agony.

"Dumbledore destroyed one of your Horcruxes; the ring," Harry ground out. "It had the Resurrection Stone in it."

Voldemort looked at him sharply.

"Bring it to me," the Dark wizard commanded, his eyes flashing dark red. "Bring it to me, or else your family dies, one by one. The longer the wait, the more who die. You are dismissed; send Draco in here."

Harry was perfectly happy to do as he was told, and he forced his aching, throbbing legs to carry him away from the room. He had gotten off better than expected; his punishment was more in the form of threats, but he could handle that; well, he hoped so. Killing Dumbledore was difficult for Draco, but stealing something off him wouldn't be much easier. Maybe they could do both at the same time.

He knocked on Draco's door on his way to Tom's room, and the blond boy didn't look particularly happy about being summoned.

The Manor was otherwise deserted, but Harry suspected that Tom would be in nonetheless.

He didn't even have to knock before the door opened, and Tom was beckoning him inside with an unreadable expression.

Orion and Bast, his two kittens, who were now much bigger than when he had last seen them, were waiting behind Tom, and bounded towards Harry when they spotted him, only to be lightly kicked aside by Tom. The Dark wizard hissed at them, almost as though he was a cat too, and they scampered underneath a chair, watching the humans with glowing eyes.

"Are cats eyes meant to glow like that?" Harry asked, distracted momentarily from his Voldemort related thoughts.

"I have been experimenting on them," Tom said simply. "Nothing to harm them, as I find kittens do tend to be highly irritating, and I shall not have any more young ones running around here again, however I shan't tell you what I have been doing until my work is complete. Anyway, I notice you are in working order."

"I ache," Harry told the man, who nodded impatiently and waved his wand over Harry, causing a cool, refreshing feelings on his limbs which started to dull the pain almost immediately. "Err, he mostly just threatened me; maybe a bit of blackmail too."

"How so?" Tom questioned calmly, as though being blackmailed by Voldemort was completely normal.

"Well first he said he needed me alive so I could activate something he's going to ask you to get from Egypt; it isn't the tablet you're after, is it?" Harry asked, feeling a bit of relief when Tom shook his head. He took a deep breath before continuing. "I also may have told him that Dumbledore has destroyed the ring Horcrux," Harry said sheepishly, "and it has the Resurrection Stone in it, and I guess he didn't know, because he's told me I have to steal it for him or he'll kill by family one by one. I don't know how I'm going to manage that though; I mean, it's stealing from Dumbledore. Besides, it's not even a month until the Winter Holidays, and Dumbledore is gone half the time now anyway."

"I will get you an extension to keep your family alive, if you'd like," Tom told him with a reassuring tone. "Though you will have to do something in return, and it shan't be easy. The Dark Lord may be insane at times, but that doesn't stop him being extraordinarily clever. He is aware that performing the Cruciatus Curse on you too much could easily cause your mind to break, and that wouldn't be advantageous while he needs you. And as you are young, like Draco, you have spent your whole lives depending on your family for care and support, and threatening to kill them is far for horrific for a child to deal with than their own torture."

Harry grimaced, knowing Tom's words were true. Being tortured would have been unpleasant, but once it was over that was that, while having this new threat over his head was far worse in the long run.

"I shall go and speak to the Dark Lord now," Tom stated. "Wait here for my return."

The cats seemed to reappear, far more happy looking once Tom left; Harry thought perhaps taking one to Hogwarts with him, and leaving the other with his parents would be a better option, before Tom scared them to death, or mutated them with whatever weird experiment he was doing.

Tom returned a short while later, causing the cats to run away from the string Harry had found which they were chasing.

"You have a compromise," Tom announced, ignoring the cowering animals. "You can postpone your Dumbledore task, but you have to do something else tonight."

"What?" Harry questioned warily.

"You will do well to remember this is designed as a punishment before you react negatively," Tom warned. "The Dark Lord wishes for you to bring a Gryffindor student here."

"Why?" Harry continued, though he had an idea, and the thought sent a shiver down his spine.

"I'm sure you know why," Tom answered with a smirk. "Pick somebody you feel deserves to die."

"I don't think anybody deserves to," Harry said quietly.

"Either that, or one of your family goes instead," Tom cautioned, and he handed Harry a book. "I'm sure you can find somebody; that book will be a temporary Portkey, which will allow the student entrance to Malfoy Manor on a single occasion. To activate it, simply say 'Portus'."

Harry sighed; he knew the warning to his family wouldn't be an empty threat. He just didn't know who he would pick. No matter who he chose, the feeling of doom amongst the other students concerning the disappearance would haunt him every time he entered Gryffindor Tower, and that was probably why Voldemort requested that House in particular.

Harry started as Tom tapped him with his wand, and then his skin started to fade into the background; he had been Disillusioned.

"You are familiar with the Imperius Curse," Tom stated. "I recommend you use it for a swift selection without drawing any unnecessary attention, and do not be seen; if you are the last person seen with somebody before they disappear, that will draw suspicion to you. Go now, before people go to bed."

"Err, okay," Harry mumbled, stomach jolting as Tom activated the Portkey.

He walked slowly to Gryffindor Tower; he was in no rush. How could Tom expect him to just pick a student from his House and bring them to their doom? He understood how Voldemort could do that, but he had hoped Tom might have persuaded the Dark Lord to request something less cruel. Still, maybe Tom saw no problem with it; in fact, he most likely didn't.

How was he going to choose someone, for that matter? He couldn't just ask around and see if anyone was suicidal or terminally ill, and wouldn't mind dying. Or maybe he should just pick a student he didn't really know, so their disappearance wouldn't cause so much notice for him.

Gryffindor Tower seemed to be upon him in no time, and he waited five minutes for the portrait to swing open when some other students returned from elsewhere, and stepped into the bustling common room.

All he could see was smiling faces, and he didn't know how he could just choose one of them to die, but he had to, or else one of his family would take their place, and he knew without a second thought which would be the worst option.

Obviously he wouldn't go for one of his year-mates; their missing presence would be far too noticeable, and though he wouldn't call them his friends, he liked most of them well enough, while he needed Neville to destroy Horcruxes, and it would upset Ginny if he took Ron.

Then he spotted his sister. Heather was sat with Seamus, Dean and Parvati, while Heather's old friends sat behind them, laughing and pointing. Romilda Vane was the loudest and most enthusiastic, and Harry knew who to pick.

True, Heather and Romilda may have had a simple fallen out and would make up soon, but at the moment she was being beyond cruel to a person who was meant to be her friend, and she had never been pleasant to Harry.

He stealthily moved towards her, his body obeying Voldemort's command rather than his mind, which felt like it had shut down the horror it was about to bestow upon this girl, and he whispered 'Imperio'.

He made Romilda make her excuses to leave the Common Room; oddly enough, none of her friends offered to come with her.

He made Romilda walk to a deserted corridor, and then pushed the book Portkey into her hands, and cast the spell to activate it. It horrified Harry had easy that had been; any student working for the Dark Lord could cause so much havoc from within the castle walls. It was fortunate he and Draco were the only ones; who he knew about, at least. Death Eaters may not yet be able to enter Hogwarts, but Voldemort wouldn't have to worry about that if he had insiders.

When they landed, the Imperius Curse must have been disrupted by the travelling, especially considering Harry wasn't wonderful at casting it in the first place, as Romilda was looking around wildly, her eyes darting from side to side fearfully.

Harry cast Finite Incantatem on himself to remove the Disillusionment Charm, and he scowled when Romilda seemed to relax at the sight of him.

"How did I get here?" Romilda demanded, putting her hands on her hips. "And where is here? I bet Loony Lovegood had something to do with this."

"Her name is Luna," Harry said through gritted teeth; Romilda just rolled her eyes.

"Whatever," she sneered, and Harry wondered if she would be this cocky if she knew where she really was. "But listen, if this is some weird tactic to try and get me to make up with your sister, it isn't going to work. I mean, who does she think she is? Calling me a liar, just because she can't accept that her brother is a suicidal freak; I was just trying to help her see the truth, but she went off on one."

Harry couldn't understand how anyone so vile could be so popular, but then again, fear made people do a lot of things they wouldn't normally do. But beneath the cruel, heartless exterior, Harry could see the fourteen year old girl within; was it really right to let her die so young, no matter how horrible she was?

But then Romilda said something that settled her fate.

"Heather's a freak anyway," the girl stated blandly, "slicing her arm up every night."

Harry's blood went cold inside of him.

"What?" he breathed.

"I caught her one time last year and she begged me not to tell anyone," Romilda continued as though Harry hadn't said anything. "And of course I wasn't going to; I couldn't have people knowing I was friends with some psychotic weirdo. If she wants to bleed herself to death, that's her problem."

Harry's heart hammered wildly. It made sense; why Heather was so upset when he found her crying, and why, when he thought about it, he had never seen her wear short sleeves, but he had never paid much attention to it before. He felt sick to his stomach; according to Romilda, and what Myrtle said too, it had been going on for at least a year, and he hadn't seen the signs. And the one girl who had known ignored the problem, and refused to help Heather, purely for selfish reasons.

Romilda was looking at him fearfully.

"W-what's up with your eyes?" she stuttered, trying to make her voice sound brave; Harry ignored her and grasped her wrist, dragging her to the room where he and Voldemort had been before.

Voldemort, Tom, and Draco were indeed there, and Voldemort's eyes flashed dangerously, while Draco tried to hide his confusion. Tom seemed to only have eyes for Harry, and the Gryffindor could feel his face flush as Tom seemed to undress him with his eyes.

Romilda whimpered at the sight, and she squirmed out of Harry's grip to bang on the door that had shut behind her, but to no avail.

"What are you doing?" she sobbed to Harry, and he cast his eyes away from her so he couldn't see the terror in her own.

"I requested that young Harry brought me a student he believed deserved death," Voldemort stated, his voice a cold calm.

"B-but, I'm only fourteen," Romilda cried. "I'm a Pure-blood too."

"Blood purity matters not to him," Voldemort said, pointing to Harry. "Tell us, why do you wish her to die over the others you could have chosen?"

That question was directed at Harry, and he took a breath before answering.

"She's never been nice to me, but I pushed it aside," Harry answered quietly, keeping his eyes on the floor, "but she's now been cruel to my sister, and has allowed her to harm herself without a care."

"I do care!" Romilda argued. "I even gave her a cream to hide her cuts from your mother so she wouldn't freak out about it."

"That doesn't help her," Harry snarled, and he jerked his head up when he heard Voldemort laughing coldly.

"Well, you chose her; you kill her," the Dark Lord hissed. Harry didn't know if it was himself, Draco, or Romilda who gasped; likely all three of them. "Draco must learn how easy it is. Do it, or my compromise is void, and Romilda and Draco will be imprisoned together until the next full moon, when only Draco will be released."

Draco's face drained completely, and Harry could see the trembling in his limbs. Romilda looked slightly confused, but the mention of the words 'full moon' must have given her an idea.

She turned to Harry, dropping onto her knees.

"Just do it," she begged. "It'll be quick, won't it? It won't hurt. I don't want to be ripped apart. Please."

Tom had come to stand behind Harry, wrapping his arms around Harry's chest, with just enough room for Harry to raise his hand.

"Do it, my dear," he encouraged darkly. "Show them how powerful you are, my corrupted angel."

Romilda had stopped crying, and was staring at Harry with a brave façade.

He raised a trembling hand, uttered the curse, and in a flash of green light, Romilda Vane's life was gone.

X

Notes:

Err, I did mark this story as Dark!Harry, just saying. I'm not going to make him evil or anything though.

Next chapter will be much lighter, because Harry will be home for the holidays, and Tom will be there too, and then after that, my boys are Egypt bound.

And it should be out much sooner than this chapter was.

Date: 2015-12-18; view: 537