FIC: Abandoned: The Re-Write ~ Harry Potter ~ HPLV/HPTR ~ Mature ~ Chapter 12
Title: Abandoned: The Re-Write
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: M/R
Main Pairing: Harry/Tom, Harry/Voldemort
Side Pairings: Ginny/Theodore Nott, Seamus/Blaise Zabini, past-Ron/Hermione, Hermione/Luna, others
Warnings: SLASH, mentions of child abuse/rape/torture, language, character death, minor Dumbledore bashing, Grey-to-Dark!Harry
Summary: A complete re-write of Abandon: Before the start of his seventh year, Harry Potter is abandoned in London by his muggle family and finds himself befriending Lord Voldemort.
A/N: Whoops, sorry! Forgot to post this yesterday!
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Chapter Twelve: Things Change
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As Harry had guessed, his friends didn't bring up the matter of him and Marcus getting together again until the end of September. By that point, his and the Dark Lord's relationship, such as it was, hadn't changed all that much from before Harry admitted his feelings: he and Marcus taught the third through fifth year Slytherin/Gryffindor classes together, and every few nights, Harry would visit the older wizard's rooms and they would discuss lesson plans. Usually, when Harry visited in the evenings, there was some kissing, but they kept that part of their relationship strictly behind closed doors, and it didn't go any farther than kisses.
On the Slytherin front, not much had happened. They'd heard from Blaise, via Seamus, about the directions to leave Harry alone from those parents who had ties to the Dark Lord, but nothing really had come of it. Blaise hadn't seen it as a way to connect with the Gryffindors, alas, since his Housemates might be okay with ignoring Harry, but they would not be okay with him dating one of Harry's friends. (The Gryffindors had rolled their eyes, but Ron had admitted that, had he not met Blaise in neutral territory, he never would have accepted his relationship with Seamus. Even now, he was uncertain, but he was also willing to give the snake a chance.)
"Hey, Harry?" Ginny said the last Sunday of September. Harry and his friends were all sitting around their usual table in the Gryffindor common room, homework or pleasure reading spread out in front of them.
Harry glanced up from his Transfiguration essay; he should have finished it already, according to Hermione, but he'd been more interested in writing his Defence essay than caring about another class. "What's up, Gin?" he asked.
Ginny picked at a flaking spot on the tabletop. "I know he might not ever truly love you back, but-"
"Ginny!" three voices hissed in unison.
"She's got a point," Seamus offered.
"Seamus!" Hermione, Dean, and Ron hissed.
Harry just sort of smiled at his friends and turned his attention back to something he was citing for his essay. "I'd wondered when someone would bring this up again," he offered.
The others all relaxed just a bit at that; if Harry had been expecting the questioning, then he wouldn't be upset about it... right?
"So, the way you explained this, uhm, society-pack thing," Seamus said, leaning forward, "makes it sound like he could, potentially, love you, right? So... I dunno. Maybe you could try anyway?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Sociopath," he corrected before Hermione could. "And, sure, there's a chance that he could...develop feelings for me, but I wouldn't want to burden him with those expectations. Especially not if there's a chance I might lose his friendship in the process."
"I very much doubt he'd stop being your friend," Ginny offered. All of his friends had commented more than once on how close Harry and Marcus were when they weren't in front of the student body. As long as it was just Harry's friends, Marcus and Harry would mock and tease each other mercilessly, but if anyone else was around, they were almost formal with each other.
"Not going to chance it," Harry said to his parchment.
His friends traded helpless looks. They wanted things to work out for him, but they weren't sure how they could go about it.
Then Hermione's eyes lit up. "We could ask Professor Brutús what he'd do if you had romantic feelings for him."
Harry stared up at Hermione, surprised by the suggestion.
"No," Ron said, shaking his head. "Just...no."
Dean snickered at Ron's refusal, but Seamus' face had taken on an expression more commonly found on his boyfriend.
"No," Ron said again, giving the Irishman a worried look. "Just... Can we please let the Brutús matter be?" He glanced over at Harry, who was torn between amusement and horror. "It's not that I don't want you happy, mate. It's just..."
"I understand, Ron," Harry replied and smiled at his friend, shaking away his horror at what Seamus might be plotting.
Ginny and Seamus traded looks that promised to keep trying.
'Tom?' Harry called as they all returned to their work.
'Yes?'
'Just thought I'd warn you: You might be accosted by Gryffindors some time in the coming weeks, asking how you feel about me.'
Tom snickered. 'This should be entertaining. Should I play the part of all unknowing sociopath? Or should I act all confused about my feelings?'
'Bastard,' Harry shot back. They both knew the Dark Lord would act the part of a sociopath who had no real knowledge of the kinder emotions, such as love. Neither of them were ready to announce their relationship to anyone.
-0-0-0-
Harry whistled to himself as he wandered down the hallway, heading towards Tom's rooms after supper on the first day of October. The Dark Lord had left the Great Hall early, to deal with a detention, or they'd be walking together. As it was, Harry would have almost forty minutes to poke around the professor's quarters by himself, which he'd gleefully pointed out, only to sense exasperated amusement through the bond as a response.
The teen had just reached the snake portrait that guarded the entrance to the rooms, when he heard a strange sound around the corner of the hallway just ahead. Harry blinked and wondered whether he should go check or not - with his luck, it would be Peeves, lying in wait for an unsuspecting student - but then he saw a flash that looked worryingly like spell fire and he hurried over.
Around the corner, Harry came upon the sight of a couple of fifth years from the DA standing over a third year Slytherin. The Slytherin - Marvel Derrick, Harry recalled - was on her behind in front of the fifth years, looking a bit scared, but determined to stay as stoic as possible. She was also bound with magical ropes and had a streak of blood on her cheek marking a cut. The two fifth years - Don Lee from Hufflepuff and Andrew Kirke from Gryffindor - both had their wands aimed at the third year and, from what Harry could see of Andrew's face, wore pleased looks.
Harry cleared his throat and stepped fully around the corner, arms folded over his chest.
Derrick looked almost hopeless at Harry's appearance, while Andrew looked excited and Don looked... Was that fear crossing the boy's face?
"Harry!" Andrew called. "We caught one of those slimy snakes. Maybe, if we punish her enough, the one who cursed you will come forward!"
Harry raised one eyebrow at the younger Gryffindor. "Let her go," he ordered.
Don looked distinctly worried now, but Andrew just looked confused. "Let her go?" he repeated. "Why?"
Harry gave the younger boy an irritated look. "What made you think I would approve of torturing a Slytherin?" he demanded as he flicked his wand in Derrick's direction and vanished the ropes.
"You're always butting heads with Malfoy!" Andrew shouted. "And one of those slimy snakes cursed you!"
"Malfoy is capable of defending himself," Harry replied drily, brushing past the two fifth years to check on Derrick, who was watching the upper years with wide eyes, "and whoever cursed me was a fifth year, not a third year. Leave the younger years alone."
"But maybe if we-" Andrew started.
Harry spun. "Expes," he hissed and Andrew whimpered before sinking to the floor and curling in on himself.
"Oh, oh..." Andrew whispered. "We'll never win this war. We're all going to die..."
Harry turned to Don, who flinched. "And the reason you're cursing third years, Mr Lee?"
The Hufflepuff seemed to shrink in on himself. "I-I don't..."
Harry let out an irritated breath. "Get out of here," he ordered, then turned to Derrick, leaving Andrew to suffer under the Hopeless Curse some more. "Episkey," he murmured, holding his wand to the girl's cheek.
Derrick reached up and touched the spot on her cheek that had healed. "Thanks," she whispered.
Harry offered her a lopsided smile. "Do you want me to escort you back into Slytherin territory? Or will you be okay on your own?" he asked.
Derrick glanced around Harry at where Andrew was still moaning. "What about him?"
Harry shrugged. "We're right around the corner from the professors' private rooms; someone will find him. Eventually."
Derrick let out a surprised giggle, then covered her mouth.
Harry grinned and got to his feet, holding out a hand to help her up, which the girl took. "Come on, then."
They sidled around the moaning fifth year, then set off down the halls at a comfortable pace. After they were out of range of Andrew's moaning, Derrick asked, "What were you doing out here, anyway?" and some suspicion returned to her eyes. Now that she was safe, she had to wonder if everything hadn't been planned. But why would the Gryffindor Golden Boy want to be seen helping a Slytherin?
Harry sighed, having spent more than enough time with the Slytherin Heir by then to read her distrust and guess the path her thoughts would be taking. "I told you the professors' private quarters were on that hall?"
Derrick nodded. That hallway had always been a bit of a mystery, since there didn't seem to be anything important on it, and the Heads of the Houses' rooms were nearer the House commons.
"I was meeting with Professor Brutús to discuss some work for tomorrow and next week." Harry shrugged.
"In his private rooms," Derrick said, voice bland.
"More comfortable than his office," Harry returned. "And far less of a chance that someone would interrupt us."
Derrick just stared at him for a moment, then stated, "I don't believe you."
Harry sighed and shook his head. "Okay."
It was about then that three Slytherins dashed around the corner. They froze upon seeing Harry and Derrick, then all turned their wands on Harry. "Marvel," one of the boys, Mark Cunningham, said, "get away from him."
Harry just smiled as the girl dashed over to her friends and four wands were trained on him. "Try not to leave yourselves open to attacks from the upper years," he suggested to the group, then turned and headed back towards Tom's room. There, he let himself in and collected some tea and biscuits. Properly supplied, he curled up on the couch, Charms book open in his lap.
Thirty minutes later, Marcus strode in, shedding his disguise with his teaching robes, which he waved towards his bedroom. "Hello, imp."
Harry smiled up from his text. "Hi, Tom. How was your detention?"
"Tedious," Tom grumbled, summoning himself some tea from the kitchen and falling onto the couch next to Harry. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about a fifth year Gryffindor who was moaning in the hall just outside, would you?"
Harry gave the older wizard a wide-eyed innocent look. "Did someone hex him?" he asked, voice laced with concern.
Tom snorted and sipped at his tea, not buying it. "What did he do to you?"
Harry rolled his eyes and set his book down next to his bag. "I found him and a Hufflepuff fifth year hexing one of the Slytherin third years. Don looked a bit like he'd been coerced, so I let him go, but Andrew deserved it. Picking on lower years..."
Tom let out a quiet chuckle. "What did the Slytherin think of all this?"
"She thought it was funny, right up until she'd calmed down a bit. Now, I'm sure she suspects it’s all been a clever ploy to worm my way into the snake's nest. Why I'd want to go down there..." Harry raised his arms in a helpless gesture.
"To kill them all in their sleep," Tom offered drily.
Harry grinned. "It would certainly make classes easier."
Tom snorted and gave the teen an amused look. "And less crowded," he agreed, thinking of his seventh year class.
Harry grimaced - it wasn't easy duelling in such a cramped space. "Maybe we could see about getting a bigger classroom?" he suggested, as he had many times over the past month.
Tom just shook his head. The only places in the castle that were large enough to comfortably fit the whole class were the Great Hall or the Room of Requirement; it would be too much trouble to set up the Great Hall for every class, and putting a group of overly aggressive teenagers into a room that responded to thought was a bad idea, as Harry and the DA had found out last year when a fighting couple started imagining anvils falling on each others' heads.
"Tomorrow," Tom said after a moment of silence, and Harry sighed, but dutifully participated in a discussion on what they would be working on the next day with the fifth years.
-0-0-0-
"Potter," a familiar, whiney voice called as Harry stepped out of the Defence classroom the next day.
Harry glanced across the hall and cocked an eyebrow at the blond leaning casually against the wall. "Malfoy," he responded.
Malfoy pushed away from the wall and met him halfway, then joined Harry in walking towards the Charms classroom.
After a bit, Harry commented, "You're not taking Charms."
Malfoy cocked his head to one side. "I heard an interesting story last night," he said, instead of giving an answer to Harry's unspoken question.
Harry sighed. "Miss Derrick?"
Malfoy's eyes flicked to Harry, then back down the hallway they were traversing. "I hear the Gryffindor who attacked her is still in the hospital wing."
Harry's mouth thinned. Indeed, Andrew was still trapped under Madam Pomfrey's sharp eyes. He had broken out in whimpers a few times since the spell was reversed, and he'd pulled out a few chunks of his hair during his time under the curse, which had to be re-grown. "And?" he asked the Slytherin.
"Why would you curse one of your own Housemates so badly?" Malfoy asked, stopping and turning to face Harry.
Harry stopped and glanced over at the blond. "Perhaps it has something to do with the explanation I gave in that hallway," he suggested drily, then started walking again. "Now, if you don't mind, I have a class to be getting to."
Malfoy continued standing in the middle of the hallway for a long moment, watching Harry's retreating back with a speculative look, before turning and walking back the way he came.
-0-0-0-
Harry wasn't the only one surprised at lunch when Draco Malfoy sat down next to him at the Gryffindor table. Indeed, the entire hall had gone dead silent and Ron had frozen, fork halfway to his open mouth.
Malfoy calmly filled his plate, then turned to Ginny, who was sitting on his other side, and said, "Weasley, pass the potatoes."
Ginny blinked, then reached over and picked up the potatoes. After a brief deliberation, she handed the bowl over without doing anything to or with it.
Malfoy nodded. "Thank you," he said and returned to filling his plate.
Harry shook himself and asked, "Malfoy, why are you sitting over here?"
"Did you get lost?" Seamus added a bit dumbly.
"Malfoys never get lost," Malfoy informed the Irishman.
The food on Ron's fork plopped wetly to his plate.
Malfoy sneered at Ron, then turned and focussed on Harry. "There's nothing in the school rules against sitting at the table of another House, Potter."
Harry nodded, well aware of that. "That doesn't explain why you are sitting here," he pointed out.
"I wanted to see what the view was like from your side of the hall," Malfoy replied airily, glancing around. He grimaced at Ron's wide-mouthed stare, then looked back at Harry. "I think I prefer the Slytherin table."
"Then why don't you go back over there?" Ron demanded, fork clattering uselessly to his plate as he fumbled for his wand.
Harry sighed while Dean and Neville grabbed for Ron's arms before he could fully pull his wand out. "Ron, stop letting him get to you," the green-eyed teen pleaded, then turned to the sole Slytherin and suggested, "You might not want to taunt him when you're on the other side of the hall from any back-up."
Malfoy sniffed and turned regally to his food.
Harry closed his eyes, feeling a headache building up behind his eyes. 'Tom...' he tried, hoping the Dark Lord would have something helpful to say.
All Harry got back in response was a bemused chuckle.
Harry rubbed at his scar, then turned to his own lunch, deciding to just let the Slytherin next to him do as he would.
-0-0-0-
In retrospect, letting Malfoy do what he wanted wasn't, perhaps, the best idea Harry had ever had. At dinner, Malfoy again settled into the seat between Harry and Ginny, but that time he brought an entourage, which consisted of Pansy Parkinson, Blaise, and Theodore Nott. Blaise, as the Gryffindors had expected, slid into the seat next to Seamus without any problems, but Parkinson and Nott found themselves with quite the quandary of where to sit among the Gryffindor group, which was made up of two 'blood traitors', two muggleborns, two half-bloods, and Neville. In the end, Ginny was pushed even farther down the bench when Parkinson took the seat next to Malfoy, and Nott ended up sitting between Ron and Neville.
The Gryffindors all turned hopeful expressions on Harry and the teen rubbed tiredly at his scar.
'You could try telling them to piss off,' Marcus offered from his seat at the Head table.
'I can't do that to Seamus,' Harry replied. 'And, anyway, this is great for inter-House relations.'
'I think I might just gag.'
'Piss off.' Harry sighed, then turned to Malfoy and said, "So, Draco, what did you think of the reading for Defence?"
The entire hall held its breath, waiting for the Slytherin Prince to respond.
Malfoy turned to Harry, raised one eyebrow, then said, "It wasn't quite as dry as I would have expected from a book by Slinkens."
"I thought he did a particularly good job defining the differences between the Limb-Rending Curse and the Curse of Burning," Harry agreed.
"It was impressive," Hermione agreed cautiously. "He talked about everything from pronunciation to what each spell felt like."
"I do have to wonder how he knew what they felt like," Dean offered, poking his food with his knife. "I mean, I can't imagine either curse would leave you in the state to write a book."
"Personal experience would explain why the book was such an easy read," Blaise pointed out.
"But having your arms and legs torn off?" Dean said, eyes wide.
"I'd be more afraid of the Curse of Burning, myself," Harry commented drily.
"Why's that?" Ron asked, forgetting about the Slytherins for a moment. Personally, he thought the Limb-Rending Curse sounded way more ugly.
Harry's eyes darkened. "Having your arms and legs torn off would hurt, I'll give you that, and if you're going for visual effect, it would certainly be the spell to use. But if you're going for something that wouldn't be so easily healed, the Curse of Burning is..." Harry shook his head.
"It's something you'd lose your mind just to escape from," Neville said softly.
The table was silent for a long moment before Ginny asked, "Is this curse like the Cruciatus?"
"It's what the Cruciatus was based off of," Harry offered.
"That wasn't in the reading," Nott commented, leaning forward a bit and considering Harry with intent eyes. "Where'd you hear that?"
"Professor Brutús," Harry lied. In reality, Mad-Eye had been the one to tell him. The fucking ex-auror had even cast it on him once, when Harry was being particularly sullen and slow.
Comfort echoed across the bond and Harry smothered a smile before sending back a feeling of thanks. The Dark Lord might not know exactly what was going on, but he was always there to protect Harry from anything potentially damaging.
Harry had a sudden vision of Voldemort appearing and casting the Cruciatus on Mad-Eye for daring to harm Harry in any way and couldn't stop the snicker that escaped.
Everyone looked at him oddly.
"Sorry," Harry offered, but he couldn't help his amusement. "It's- sorry. It wouldn't make sense. Just..." Harry snorted and covered his mouth. "Sorry," he said again and ducked his head.
"Potter, are you mad?" Malfoy asked in a perfectly reasonable tone.
"Insane," Neville deadpanned, earning him surprised looks from all the Slytherins.
Harry burst out in laughter and, shortly, the others around him followed.
-0-0-0-
"Harry, what are we going to do about Malfoy?" Ron asked that night when they were all climbing into bed.
Harry paused halfway under the covers and looked around the room. Ron looked a bit desperate, while Seamus looked sad and Dean was watching Seamus with some concern. Neville met his gaze and shrugged. Harry sighed and slipped fully into his bed. "Do we need to do anything at all?" he returned.
"But they're Slytherins! They're plotting something!" Ron hurried to point out.
Harry shrugged. "You don't seem to mind Blaise all that much."
"I know what Blaise wants," Ron retorted, glancing towards Seamus, who smiled. "But Malfoy is another matter entirely. This is completely out of the blue!"
"Not...necessarily..." Harry admitted. When four sets of eyes turned to him, he flushed. "I came across a third year Slytherin being tormented by a couple of upper years yesterday and I got her out of it."
"You protected a Slytherin?" Ron muttered, disbelieving.
Dean sighed and shook his head. "Ron, did you completely miss the fact that Harry doesn't actually hate Slytherins?"
"How can you not hate Slytherins?"
Harry rubbed tiredly at his scar. "I very much dislike Snape," he allowed, "but for the rest of the House I feel disinterest. Malfoy has always been irritating, but if he's willing to put our rivalry to the side, I'm good with that. If nothing else, it might lessen the chances of the older years of any House catching a younger year alone."
"What do you mean?" Neville asked. "You think your feud with Malfoy is-"
Harry nodded, cutting Neville off. "Yes. Andrew Kirke, the upper year I found tormenting that third year, told me that was part of the reason for attacking her. That, and the fact that they attacked me, so that means all the snakes are fair game."
"Even the first years?" Neville whispered, paling. He wasn't one to forget the times he'd run into Malfoy's gang as a first year, but at least they'd been on a pretty even playing field back then. The idea of a first year being caught by a fifth year...
"Yes," Harry said, eyes tired. He looked at Ron, who looked away. "Ron, I know you don't like him, but tolerate his presence for a bit, okay?"
"And after we graduate? Am I supposed to think a year's respite will mean he's going Light?" Ron spat.
"I know there's a war out there, and Merlin knows it's appeared inside these walls often enough," Harry murmured, "but, just for now, can we pretend it's not here? Can we pretend, for a few weeks, that this summer we won’t all be out there, holding wands to each others' throats, ready to utter a Killing Curse?" He looked around the room, eyes reflecting his own sorrow.
"Let's enjoy the time we have left," Neville agreed.
"And, maybe, when it's all said and done," Harry added, looking at where Ron sat, head hanging, "Malfoy will face you in the field and he'll falter, because he remembers that you weren't that bad a person. Maybe, if we can all share some memories that don't involve cursing each other in the halls, Voldemort will find himself without anyone to recruit this summer."
"Wouldn't that be nice," Seamus agreed.
Ron glanced over at the Irishman and nodded. "I'll try," he promised, and Seamus' eyes lit up.
"Thanks, Ron," Harry said, then waved his wand around his bed to close his curtains.
'Please tell me you don't really think your being friends with the Slytherins will keep them from joining me,' Tom's voice echoed drily across the bond.
Harry smiled grimly. 'I have no such delusions - I remember Wormtail's betrayal - but I want to know what Malfoy is up to, and I can't do that if Ron's pitching a fit.'
Tom chuckled. 'A fair point. What do you plan to do with Malfoy, though? He's not about to come right out and tell you what he's up to.'
'Oh, I know,' Harry agreed. 'I figure bringing him into my confidence in some things - like who I've got a crush on - should make him a bit more open. Or, at least, make him think I'm less suspicious of him.'
'You are known for being particularly gullible, if the Slytherins are to be believed,' Tom agreed. 'Or, at least, that's what they tell their parents.'
'I have my moments,' Harry admitted, grimacing.
Tom chuckled. 'So you do.'
Harry smiled and snuggled under the blankets a bit more. 'Good night, Tom. I'll see you at lunch.'
'Lazy child,' Tom retorted, but the link echoed with the fondness he had for the teen. 'Enjoy your rest, Harry.'
-0-0-0-
When the Gryffindor seventh year boys finally got down to lunch, the Slytherins were already sitting at their table, Ginny and Parkinson discussing something and Hermione firmly ignoring Nott and Malfoy's sneers. The boys filled in the empty seats, Harry blocking Hermione from Malfoy's line of sight, if not Nott's. "Good afternoon," he said to all of them. "How was your free morning?"
"Boring," Malfoy said. "Have you all really been asleep all morning?"
The other Gryffindor boys grinned a bit madly, as they had slept in, but Harry had been training with Mad-Eye in the Shrieking Shack since before breakfast, so he just shrugged and loaded some things onto his plate.
Hermione firmly added some things to Harry's plate, earning her disgusted looks from the Slytherins, but Harry just smiled at her fondly and started in on the beans she'd plopped onto his plate.
"Do you always let her do that?" Parkinson demanded.
Harry paused in his eating and looked around at the three Slytherins who were looking at the muggleborn with varying degrees of disgust - Blaise had, wisely, decided to stay out of it. He set his fork down and took out his wand to tap on the tabletop. When they all looked at him, expressions dark, Harry said, "Perhaps I was remiss in mentioning this, but while you sit at our table, you will leave your prejudices behind. If you can't do that, you can go back to your own table, because I won't allow it."
"Harry," Hermione whispered, "it's okay."
"It is not," Harry replied. He met each of the Slytherins' eyes, then said, "Hermione is my friend, as is Dean; if you can't eat with them without making a big deal about their blood purity, then don't eat with us." He slipped his wand back into his arm holster, then returned to his food.
The Slytherins traded looks, then returned to their own meals, silently resolving to just ignore the two muggleborns. And, really, that was all Harry wanted. For now.
-0-0-0-
Defence ended on a high note, as all the students had performed the spells Marcus taught them without much trouble. As everyone got up to leave, Harry said his goodbyes to his Gryffindor friends and walked up to talk with their professor, grinning. As the Gryffindors were leaving, they found the four Slytherins who had taken to sitting with them mingling.
"What's up with Potter?" Malfoy asked Neville, who he considered the least offensive member of the group without Harry.
"He teaches classes with Brutús," Ron snarked. "Surely you've heard about that?"
"Professor Brutús and Harry are friends," Neville said to Malfoy, both ignoring Ron. "Harry usually spends this free period with him, as well as some evenings. Sometimes they work on class plans, other times they work on homework or grading." Harry had told his friends what he did with Marcus when he disappeared with the man fairly early on. Seamus and Ginny had jokingly offered to come with him as chaperones, but the others promised to tie the two Gryffindors up if they tried anything.
"Friends?" Nott asked, frowning. "Potter's friends with him?"
"Yeah. What's wrong with that?" Dean asked.
"Brutús was in Slytherin," Nott explained.
Neville blinked. "So? You guys are Slytherins."
"Gryffindors and Slytherins don't become...friends," Malfoy said, spitting the last word like it was dirty.
"And you're hanging out with us...why?" Hermione retorted, unamused.
That gave the Slytherins pause. They couldn't very well share a real reason, but they weren't really willing to allow themselves to be thought of as seeking a friendship with the Gryffindors. In the end, Malfoy huffed and said, "We're working on a theory."
"Sure you are," Hermione agreed.
The other Gryffindors laughed while the Slytherins scowled.
-0-0-0-
Behind them, in the doorway of the classroom, Harry and Marcus watched their retreating backs. "This is not going to last," Harry muttered.
"I suppose that depends on what Malfoy wants with you," Marcus replied, ruffling Harry's hair and earning an irritated look.
"I suppose," Harry agreed, stepping fully out into the hallway as the seventh years disappeared. "Your room?" he asked the Dark Lord.
Marcus smirked. "I thought you'd never ask."
"Bastard."
"Imp."
Harry grinned.
-0-0-0-0-0-
-0-0-0-0-0-
Spell Explanations:
- Expes -- meaning 'hopeless' in Latin. Hopeless Curse
This Dark curse causes the victim to feel completely hopeless about anything and everything. The Cheering Charm would be one counter curse. - Membratim -- meaning 'limb by limb' in Latin. Limb-Rending Curse
This Dark curse will tear the victim's arms and legs away from their torso. Very painful, but a skilled medi-wizard or witch can reattach the limbs if they get there fast enough. - Membrum -- meaning 'organ' or 'limb' in Latin. Curse of Burning
The precursor to the Cruciatus Curse, this Dark curse causes a slow, burning pain, which starts at the tips of the fingers and toes and continues through-out the body. Like the Cruciatus, if a victim is under the curse for too long - in this case, when the burn reaches the brain - they will lose their mind.
Abandon & Reclaim Series:
Abandon the Prequel: Sixth Year
Abandon chapter 01
Reclaim chapter One
Abandoned Chapters:
One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten
Eleven || Twelve || Thirteen || Fourteen || Fifteen || Sixteen || Seventeen || Eighteen || Nineteen || Twenty
INCOMPLETE
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