Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

WONKY CROSS	By : JanisJ Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 59363 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 26
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- 28
A/N:�
Thanks everyone for all the reads, rates
and reviews!� You make my day every time!
�When RL gets me down, you always pick me
up.
BAFan:� I love
that you�ve taken the time to talk to me on so many various aspects of the
story.� And even make up what would have
been great for Harry to say to Ginny�s face! �I wish this version of Harry was more like
that, but unfortunately, he�s more of a �keep the peace� guy in this universe.� And the most he can do is indifference; he
finds it easier to not expend any energy on her anymore�which I applaud.� (Hell, it was a big step in the right
direction when he had the confidence to tell her that no, he was not paying
attention to her with whatever she was blathering on about.)
delia cerrano:� You make me so happy that you enjoyed the
story enough to reread it!� Your comments
really made my day, and glad you get the �RL� way people relate to each other
that I try to infuse into the fiction.� (Especially
groups of boys who�ve been friends since childhood and/or brothers
;P)� I can think of no higher
compliment!
~O~
LIGHT
With his Blended House friends currently
gone to the Muggle world to explore the wonders of electricity and electronics
(specifically, computers)� plus having Charlie otherwise busy with his duties
for the afternoon-- Harry thought that this was the perfect time to go have a long-overdue
talk with Narcissa.� He�d been putting
off.
He made his way to her office feeling
apprehensive.
The newly designated Gryffinin
had gotten used to the witch�s cold countenance and cut-and-dry teaching style
in the classroom.� She was quite
compelling and commanding with her lectures and assignments.� He admired her aloof authority and the fact
that she treated him just like everyone else (as well as not giving special
treatment to her own son).�� He respected
that.
But there was a lot of history between
them that hung heavily-charged in the atmosphere whenever they were in close
proximity.� There were a lot of unspoken,
silent, more personal things they�d never cleared the air about.
And Harry had certainly never had a private conversation with the woman before�.
(unless her hushed grilling of him in the Forbidden Forrest about Draco�s
location and mortality status-- and his subsequent, pretending to be dead, barely
whispered �yes� in the affirmative-- counted.)
He knocked on the door with hesitant
knuckles; uneasy reminiscences flooded him:
Second year washed over him.
There was Lockhart and the answering of
his ridiculous fan-mail under all those luridly preening self-portraits when he
heard the Basilisk for the first time.�
Figuring out the �petrifying problem�, Ginny�s impending demise, and then
being denied adult help while being a vulnerable twelve years of age?� While also finding the frilly-fop packing up
his stuff to run away without a word to any other professor that could aid them?� It rattled him.
The unwanted images of the imposter-Moody
assaulted his mind.
Sitting among all his Dark Detectors
during Fourth year-- pretty much cheating in the Tournament by leading him to
the solution of Summoning his broom to battle against the nesting Horntail
Athena� made him shudder.� (As did
knowing the real Alastor had been held prisoner just
inches away in that blasted trunk, being picked bald to supply a year�s worth
of Polyjuice!)�
His pulse raced.� Knowing, in
hindsight, that he had been alone with a faithful Death Eater that was
elaborately plotting his sacrifice to Voldemort�s
resurrection was downright scary.
Next, there was the writing of lines
with the blood-quill Umbridge supplied:
Harry gave a resonant grimace of pain as
he relived his flesh being sliced open.�
(He kept a small measure of pride on how he�d remained silent-- whilst
surrounded by foul, mewling decorative kitten plates� so as to not give �The
Toad� the satisfaction of whinging.)� He unconsciously flexed a fist and then
smoothed a rough fingertip over the permanent scars on his hand that read �I
must not tell lies�.
The green-eyed man internally sighed at
the conflicting fond-yet-terrifying recollections he had of Remus when the
haggard wizard agreed to teach him about Boggarts and Dementors.
He still felt the pangs of grief he�d
suffered from having to say goodbye to him in this empty space-- as suddenly
vacant as the Grindylow tank in the corner. He�d been
bereft at the Marauder�s forced departure, yes, yet had been slightly buoyed by
the elation of his approval of giving back the Map.
The room which he was requesting entry to held
such memories!
The heavy, iron-bound oak planks swung
open.
His last defense against a direct
confrontation melted away and his latest Defense Against
the Dark Arts instructor looked up with a bright expression.� Madam Malfoy greeted him with a melodic
cadence.� �Ah, Mr. Potter.� I�m pleased to have you come and see me.�
The professor held her usual calm poise
and perfect posture, sitting regally behind her desk.� The young wizard fidgeted a little, taking in
the stately d�cor until he fumbled his way into a chair as indicated by her
outstretched palm. �(They both ignored
his clumsy kicking of a table leg in his haste.)
Tea was wordlessly and wandlessly served.
The silence lengthened (a tad too long--
reaching awkward proportions) after they�d fixed their cups to their individual
likings.� She prompted her young charge
with unflappable etiquette.� �To what do
I owe the pleasure of this visit?� I
assume it has to do with your Senior Project?�
Green eyes widened a bit in terror.� �Erm�.� he mumbled
most ineloquently, �Excuse me?�
He hastily took a sip of overly-hot tea
and burned his tongue.� Harry played it
off as if he was simply sampling the unique flavour
with some strange mouth technique but his cluelessness was obvious to all in
the room.� (The near hyperventilating,
uncouth clattering of his china cup and saucer and sweaty palms wiped on his
trousers weren�t helping his image either!)
Harry wanted to cringe at how he was reduced to
showing himself to be exactly the scruffy little ruffian that he was raised as by
the ultra-Muggle middle class Dursleys in the face of
her Ladyship�s aristocratic Pureblood elegance.�
He felt like a bumbling brute in the wake of her majestic sense of
decorum.
Huh?!
Harry�s mind was whirling from being
derailed by his bumbling-- not well-thought-out-- plan to ask about blocking Patronus messages.� Hermione had insisted he try to figure the
complex problem out himself as she was busy enough with her own work, yet when
he thought of enlisting the professor�s help he hadn�t composed any sort of
speech or proposal about it.� Now he was
thrown off kilter twice-over because there was a whole other important
assignment expected of him that no one had mentioned?
Crap!� Why
was he always found so wrong-footed since finding out he was a wizard?!
It was clear that the flummoxed wizard
before her was floundering.� Again, she
took pity on him and led the conversation.
Trilling like there had never been anything
amiss, she said, �Seventh Years that are mapping their career path are
encouraged to take on an extracurricular assignment of their choosing,
something that relates to their interest and intended field that will help on
higher education applications, apprenticeships, resumes, C.V.s and the like�.
To supply letters of recommendation from the accredited members you worked
under�.�
At the young man�s continued apparent
ignorance at half those terms, she held up her immaculately manicured nails in
an airy, questioning gesture and continued, �I expect you would like to tackle
something that would further your aims and goals?�
She looked at him expectantly, now
wondering what this meeting would consist of if not for consulting with her in
an academic-advisor capacity for his extra-curricular work.� (She
suddenly realized just how much this little man was a sumptuous puzzle.� He always had been, of course-- and one that was particularly juicy� but
now he had her intensely intrigued.� She loved this impromptu engagement!)
Cerulean blue eyes slightly narrowed at
the powerful boy�s apparent agitation.� It
was clear that the lad hadn�t heard of this specialized area of independent study
before this moment.� She did not care for
how much he�d been kept in the dark about this very basic yet important bit of
academia!
(How
much had he been over-looked or shielded?�
Had the elders and authorities in his life erroneously thought that he
didn�t want the extra push from chasing down his intellectual passions?� Did they think he might not need those
particular self-discovery wings to stretch and grow like every other adolescent
on the planet?)
She would assist with that, of course,
but there was something she wanted� and she planned to get it while she held
him in this private, captive audience.
Her fingers slightly curled in on
themselves, like trying to catch smoke with her bare hands.� It made her think that her approach had been
all wrong.� She needed to get him to talk
without planting her own expectations on this strange interaction (while still
getting her way).
It was obvious the young Potter had
something else entirely on his mind.� And
he had come to her!� It was most unexpected-- and she was curious!
Narcissa delicately cleared her throat and
artfully switched stream mid-stroke and fingered her necklace with languid
brushes.� She could first disarm him on
his own ground and then steer him in the direction she desired.� What did she have to lose?� He could bring up his original reason for
coming to her, and she would work with that as a quid pro quo.
She internally scoffed.� If Gryffindor openness and honesty were what
it took to quell whatever this enigmatic wizard had come here for?� Well, then, she would do it.� There were no witnesses that could construe this
tactic as a fatal weakness.� (And it wouldn�t be considered as such any more, especially with the New World Order
taking over� to survive, she had to keep in mind that the Old Ways were fading
into the background.)
It also was not above her strategy
practices to play on the sympathies of those bleeding-heart lions either.� But, atypical of the usual insidious
Slytherin �attacks�, she opted for brutal bluntness.� The stealthy Pureblood social dance of subtle
insinuation she had been raised for-- skirting around ideas and issues while
promoting multiple angles upon hidden agendas in multi-faceted layers-- was not
necessary.
No, scratch that.� It was downright incomprehensible to her sparring partner in this instance and ultimately
counterproductive.� It was also of valuable
use to her having learned much insider information recently.�
And not just via shallow fan worship or
the insipid press either.
Besides Mr. Potter�s supreme sacrifice
to the Dark Lord that she was a witness to, being instrumental in their
liberation at the evil man�s rule and ultimate demise (and at the subsequent Wizengamot trials), there was the plucky escape from Fiend Fire and the Golden Trio�s rescue
of her beloved child.� Her son�s private accounts
about the young Gryffindor�s inherent kindness and compassion from Draco�s genuine
acceptance and inclusion into a close-knit group of friends for the first time
in his life had her impressed and eternally grateful.
Yes, there were many factors that led to
the famous wizard having already earned her respect and admiration�. Though
there was more.
The Black descendant would gain what she
wanted, one way or another, that was a given.� (Though� and it surprised her
to realize it-- she held a special fondness in her heart for the beleaguered boy;
she truly liked him as a soul and wanted to help.� Everyone loves a prevailing under-dog that
deserves it, right?� She would never
condone any hint of cruelty or callousness in her approach.)
She could artistically blend the styles
of her feminine wiles best suited for this unique situation�AND help an old
friend she owed a debt to:
�Min�The
Headmistress mentioned to me that you excelled at taking on the teaching of
defense to your fellow classmates the year the Ministry sent a *ahem*�. less-than-effectual professor.�
At the Potter Heir�s still mute, blank response,
the seasoned witch elaborated.� She was a
bit puzzled but carried on, �With Professor McGonagall�s insistence to me that
my appointment would only be for this year and that the position was yours, if
you so choose it after your N.E.W.T.s�.�
She shifted in her seat, leaving the
question open and left him to draw his own conclusions after that
statement.� Harry, seemingly to be frozen
in a catatonic state, made her reevaluate again.
Narcissa faced him with a more
straight-forward mien with squared shoulders while keeping an innocent yet
coquettish tone. ��I apologize for
assuming the nature of your inquiry with me.�
I was under the impression the Headmistress discussed this with you previously
and you would be working your way towards being accredited and most suited towards
the post.�
Harry was flabbergasted.
What the fuck?!� Were
things STILL being planned out for him without his consent?� He felt blind-sided. �Was he being conspired against and pressured
by those who felt self-appointed in charge of his life?� AGAIN?!� He frantically grasped at his first thought.
�What about you? �We all know you are
great at the job!� I don�t want to take
that away from you!� he spluttered.
Mrs. Malfoy let out a breathy, sweet laugh
that was like the twinkling, dappled sunlight on a softly rippling brook.
�Oh, thank you.�� Her bejeweled ringed fingers delicately
fluttered to her throat.� Her head turned
to the side and the thick lashes that framed her piercing blue eyes lowered
demurely; she then shot him a calculating, yet soft look.� �You flatter me Mr. Potter, but I am only
here to be close to my son while he completes his final year.� That, and get the chance to leave the empty Manor
and the haunting memories there.�
Next, she smoothed over Harry�s (wonderfully
expected) empathetic frown with a gloss of slick words and good grace:
�The point is I will be going wherever
Draco goes next year and the Headmistress will be looking for another to fill
the post.� My son and I don�t hold out
much hope for attaining anything in Britain, as far as acceptance goes, given
the tarnish of our last name as of late,� she waived a dismissive hand, deftly dispelling
a brief cloud of bitterness.� �But we�ve
been intrigued by the Mastery programs in the Americas�. or perhaps, Australia.� France is a big �maybe�.�
Harry was put more at ease with her
charming smiles and candid geniality, yet was left feeling mildly uncomfortable
by her deeply personal admissions.
He could tell there was a lot that she
wasn�t saying.
Was she only desperately dependent on
Draco�s success to elevate their future status� or was it just simply motherly devotion?� (It was
probably a combination of the two.) (Or maybe a LOT more
and a complicated mix.)� The
brunet smiled ruefully, not knowing quite what was appropriate to say, but
feeling for her just the same.� She
certainly seemed more approachable in this setting�.
�But you!� You know
so much more!�� Harry stammered, finally
coming up with something that was true and made sense to his scrambled brain
about her leaving working at Hogwarts. �Y- You are one of the best professors
we�ve had!� Why me?�
�Why NOT you, Mr. Potter?� she parried
effortlessly.� �I was informed that the
staff has all found you more than suited for the job long ago.�� At his scowl, she elaborated.� �Not solely for your prophesized Fate and how
well you handled it, no.� It is public
knowledge that those in your so-called �subversive� study group were the only
ones to successfully pass their O.W.L.S on the subject that year.� Is doing this for a living not something that
might interest you?�
At his continued silence-- through
dimmed eyes and tight lips� Narcissa realized she was witnessing firsthand the
humbleness her newly found colleagues insisted was there, as well as an
insecurity and loathing of being labeled as the Wizarding World�s Hero.
(Minerva
had warned her of this suspicion and reluctance when it came to the public�s
use of his status as �The Chosen One� or �The Saviour�.� Of course, it was nothing compared to witness
this reticence in person, how much of a true sweetheart the young man actually
was!� It was refreshing after being
immersed in Slytherin politics for her whole life, to find someone so opposed
to exploiting such a tremendous boon to their every advantage.)
Narcissa went on in her best cajoling� bordering
on flirtatious-- wheedling tone.� �Nothing
is written in stone, of course.� It is
ultimately your choice should you want to take it.� You would never be forced to do anything you
didn�t want.�� She smiled as she knew
what veracity and impact her next words would have:
�I have no doubt that you could flourish
with any occupation you wish to take on, that much is clear.� But, those who have known you throughout your
school tenure and beyond-- and I, as well, having assessed your prowess in my
class-- merely thought you would enjoy it.�
And excel at the post.� Quite
magnificently so�.�
When the taciturn brunet had no reply
but a slight blush, she added, �Besides your talent with defensive spells and
teaching others, there is the fact that your Head made you Quidditch captain of
the team in your sixth year.� That speaks
volumes of Minerva�s faith in your leadership abilities.� As important as winning The House Cup is for
her, she would never bestow that honour on someone
unworthy.�
�Also-- and more importantly-- for
anyone that has held that title, it is a position that many employers consider
a useful background experience which translates well to other various aspects
of sought-after skill-sets on the job.�
For example, it demonstrates that you are adept at managing, rallying
and mentoring a group of people working together.� It also gives you knowledge of spotting individual
levels in performance and an aptitude to successfully tailor your approach in either
playing to those strengths or inspire, lifting up the weaker ones with precise
instruction where needed.�
She finally fell quiet and gazed upon
him with an air of anticipation.
The Quaffle was in his quadrant, so to
speak.� She had planted the seed with
Slytherin stealth-- yet with a hefty helping of Gryffindor bravado tempered
with finesse.� It was now up to him to
react.� She would patiently wait.
Harry ruminated on that for several long
moments.
There had never been any forethought or
foresight for after the final confrontation with Voldemort.� He truly didn�t think he�d make it. �
(Realistically,
how could he?� He was only an unprepared
kid slated to go up against a madman with a wealth of experience and years of
Dark Arts knowledge after all!� Not to
mention opposing a monster with an appalling lack of conscience and multiple
safeguards hidden all over the place to ensure a twisted version of immortality!)
He�d been fully prepared to die and he�d
always had bigger concerns on his mind than a nebulous so-called �the rest of
his life�.
When he�d miraculously come back from
the Final Battle-- and then been scrambling, attempting to somehow adjust to
things afterwards of picking up the pieces-- he�d just been going with the flow,
trying to dispel the dark cloud that had hung over his head.� He had only been trying to navigate this new
path by taking it day by day.
There had never been the concept of a
long-range plan.� None of the adults
around him had pushed him to think that far in advance, unless it was to
remark, �Oh, you will be great as an Auror or a Seeker for a national team�.� It seemed obvious now, upon a little
self-introspection, that they never really knew him either.
It was in a different way, these days, than
under the threat of a Dark Wizard�s vengeance, sure, but still, he�d been
dictated to by the wishes and expectations of others while he�d been engaged
and then married to Ginny.� (Everyone
thought that naturally he�d work his
way up in the law enforcement ranks� with being a husband and father thrown in
the mix somewhere along the way� before he became the most popular Minister
their World had ever seen.� Either that,
or a star athlete�.)
(Next,
discovering and exploring his gay sexuality was a biggie�. one that hadn�t left
him much room� or desire-- to focus on much else.)
The time spent with the Love of his Life
from working on the Castle�s restoration and then in Romania had been a
wonderful holiday from the reality of his publically-perceived existence.� He didn�t have to think at all then.� His only task was to just enjoy living the
simple life while getting unconditional acceptance from friends and family.
Then, coming back to academia for his
lost final year, he had struggled to settle into experiencing a normal year of
being a regular student while being even more of a celebrity than before.� He still
hadn�t been thinking beyond taking each day as it came.� Outlining a forecast for the future had never
really factored into his psyche before now�.
The brunet remembered that he�d been
turned off over the Summer about how playing
professional Quidditch would take all the fun out of the game if he was to be
under public scrutiny all the time. ��And
he detested the thought of becoming an Auror now; he did not like that he would
be continually obligated to put his life in danger and the constant fighting it
entailed.
After surviving the terror of Charlie
and their friends going off into threats unknown to wrangle fighting dragons,
Harry had realized he�d had enough of mortal combat to last a million years.� (At least he�d made that decision already and
took it out of the running.)� He didn�t
really need to risk death every day anymore�. especially not now that he had
grown to enjoy the contentment of a typical, mundane, safe life.�
(He also had the inkling that if he went along
with those old expectations of into the government�s DADA department, the criminals
would go after him worse than anyone else, liking the notoriety of taking out the
�Boy-That-Lived�.
Putting himself out there with a target on his
back brought to mind that sick man who wanted to go down in history as shooting
John Lennon, simply to get his name remembered for all of posterity.� He didn�t like to elevate his own worth like
that.� He didn�t want to be accused of
having a �swollen head� but he could see how that could be a motivator for talentless
lowlifes who just wanted some fame and couldn�t get it any other way.)
And it was TRUE. �He genuinely liked helping people�.
Leading Dumbledore�s Army had brought
him the only spark of happiness in fifth year in the midst of so much
negativity and chaos.� That sense of
accomplishment had been like the glow of a special talisman burning in his
heart.� In fact, it had been a point of
pride with him, watching his peers work hard and succeed at exceedingly
difficult spells.
Because of him they learned things they
wouldn�t have otherwise.� He was proud
that his rag-tag crew had been able to hold their own when it really mattered.� There was the Death Eaters entering the
Castle at the end of his sixth year, the dangerous transport of him the last
day he was moved from the Dursleys, and the whole year after that that they
were ALL persecuted in various ways in different places�. The multiple casting
of Patronuses
at the edge of the Forrest at the end-fight of The War�.
Most of them had come through the Final
Battle when it came to defensive spells (besides Fred though-- but he didn�t
stand a chance against an entire stone wall falling on him after all!)� (Ohhhh�.
Fred�.)
His shoulders slumped.� The memories of his deceased loved ones
proverbially kneed him in the nuts every time!�
The loss of so many good, skilled people made him sigh heavily�.� He wanted to prevent anyone else in the World
to have to experience that grief and guilt if they could help it!
And staying at The Castle for most of
his year?!� That made a bubble of joy
rise in his chest!� (It would be a dream come true, especially if Charlie would be staying on
as a professor as well!)� That
thought dispelled all the negative and contradictory crap he�d been thinking.
It actually didn�t sound half bad.� He just didn�t think it was a possibility�. Until now!
He�d hate for people to think he got it
was just for his past and his name, though�.�
His detractors would have a field day with the apparent favouritism or
nepotism (or whatever the fuck other word described getting special treatment)!
He didn�t realize he was scowling to
where his thought processes had led him until Narcissa spoke again:
�Mr. Potter,� she chided softly with
sweetness, �we both know that it would not be based solely on the merit of your
fame.�� Harry blanched at his own
transparency, but gave a firm nod with down-cast eyes.� He curled his shoulders in on himself.� He knew she was smart and would know the
intricacies behind his expressions.
�But perhaps you could use your Senior
Project to that advantage?� she delicately prodded, trying to bring his head
out of the ostrich-sand-hole he�d tried to bury it in.� �You taught many students, some thought to be
too young, how to cast a corporeal Patronus.� That is very useful.� And from what I hear, not an easy feat.�
The Pureblood woman gave that a pause to
sink in and then pressed on.� �That would
easily fulfill any requirement of imparting skills of a hard-to-master
nature.� It would give you advantages and
even more of the necessary qualifications, no matter your background,� she
sagely counseled.� �None on the staff or
Board of Governors would deny that.�
The brunet still looked pensive, but
showed inklings of warming up to the idea.
The unusually forth-coming woman delved
further.� �You could offer study groups
for the older years, post sign-up sheets and see how it would be received?�� (She
had no doubt he would have no lack of eager takers with such a unique and
valuable opportunity presented to them.)�
�Without any asinine �Educational Decrees� enforced by a short-sighted Ministry
you would have free reign now to give those lessons.�
�Wouldn�t you want to teach that?� the green-eyed wizard blurted out.
�Mr. Potter,� she cooed with the utmost
calm, �that particular defense has never been on any syllabus at Hogwarts.�
�But you know so much!� Why wouldn�t�� (yet he stopped abruptly,�
remembering a vague recollection of Charlie saying the exact same thing
so long ago, about all those who were not associated with the Order�.)
Narcissa explained, filling his sudden
silence.� �It is a special spell.� It was, until a year ago, classified.� The Dementors had long been under the control
of the Ministry so that Aurors and sentencing officials could have that
leverage and threat to make people think twice about behaving badly.� And, yes, certainly, being left helpless in
that regard has been a good deterrent as an ultimate punishment.�
She and Harry both shivered slightly.
�But after my son�s fifth year, there
was a revolt from staying strictly at Azkaban and a mass reproducing,
completely out of the jurisdiction of the government.� The Breeding Mist spread.� It will be increasingly common for anyone and
everyone to be subject to the gruesome instincts and desires of those loathsome
creatures as the new generations reach their maturity.� Don�t you want good people to be able to
defend themselves against an unwarranted Kiss?�
Harry was speechless, mouth gaping (probably
in the most gauche way in front of the beautiful bel esprit
perched behind the immaculately arranged table-top).� He was having trouble trying to wrap his mind
around this unspeakable horror.
�Most Wizarding-folk have been denied
this instruction to keep order and abidance of the law under the past justice
system.� That species� population allowed
themselves to be restricted in their territory to the prison.� They got to act as jailors in return for a
plentiful energy source from those the Ministry deemed �worthy�.� Now, out from under that arrangement and control,
there is no target that is safe.� The
attacks will be at random.� They are free
to roam.� Innocent, guilty, Magical,
Muggle-- it�s all the same to those Dark beings who feed off people�s souls.�
The brunet blanched, having known and
NOT known that at the same time.
She dug in, driving the point home
gently, �And the public is ignorant over how to protect themselves and loved
ones.� They don�t know HOW�.�
It was true, he supposed� he just never put those particular two and two�s
together!
He hadn�t ever thought of it that way,
even after feeling the funk of The Mist firsthand or hearing about the general
malaise it infected all humankind with on the Muggle news.� There were SO many people out there
unprotected!
(It
had only been by his unusual circumstances and education that Dudley had been
saved from having his soul sucked out that Summer when
they were kids!)� He�d just taken it
for granted that he made sure he learned that defense early on�.
Here he�d been all selfishly wrapped up in his
own issues and not thought about the World at large!
He had to concede a bit to allowing
himself some slack in regards to his own tangle of messes and lack of focus
over the bigger picture.� (THAT, and
being behind Hermione�s strong wards on The Hunt, the protections at the Burrow
and Hogwarts afterwards-- and then also completely out of the country in
Romania-- all this time!)
Harry was so lost in thought of the
horror�.
��so I�d hoped that you�d teach me, at least.� I cannot tell you how�. crippling�. it was to experience The Mist, knowing what was to come,
and not know how to defend myself.�� (She
did not have to reach far at all to affect abject terror, complete with a paled
complexion and quivering lips� the fact that she was so helpless in this regard
to shield herself and her son frequently featured prominently in her
nightmares.)� �I would be eternally
grateful, if nothing else for my own peace of mind.�
Wha?� The ruminating brunet came
swiftly back to the present.
�Oh, yeah, OK.� Sure.�
No problem.�� That was something he could do immediately to remedy such an awful
breach of a huge dam having been broken on the general wellbeing of the entire
World without his knowledge!� It made him
feel a bit better to spring into a direct course of action.
Harry began his-- now typical-- spiel as
he taught, channeling Lupin�s soft tone.�
He went through the incantation and wand movement like he�d always done
since he was thirteen�.
He found the intent on his instruction
comforted him with its familiarity; he felt bolstered by the new-found
confidence and the fleeing of his earlier tongue-tied attempts at a
conversation.� The words just
flowed.� As he spoke, the brunet was hit
with a blinding clarity as he walked her through it that it felt so natural, so
right, to be teaching things that
would satisfy his need to help people!
A supreme sensation of contentment
washed over him.
He was baffled� yet pleased-- that
Narcissa got it right on the first try!
(Harry
briefly wondered what happy memory she conjured-- but he had a fairly good
guess.� He wouldn�t ask, of course.� That was highly intimate and personal
information.� He never asked his friends--
or even his lover-- what made those closest to him experience that
break-through moment.� And none of his
peers ever asked him.� He preferred it that way.)
But the green-eyed wizard couldn�t help
but break into a huge grin at the glowing form that burst and solidified
between them.
It was a splendid swan.
Her illuminating light was elegant and
sleek.� It shone brightly in an ethereal snow-white
with a black-smoky bill and shrewd glass-bead eyes.� It fit her perfectly.
Harry laughed with the lighthearted joy
that came from being in the presence of a corporeal Patronus and applauded her efforts, wishing he had some nice chocolate
to give her for a reward.
He quickly realized that he would never
be able to cater correctly to her refined tastes in that regard (and the only
reason he got a cocoa-confection during his early instruction was because it
was necessary for dispelling of a the gloom of a Boggart masquerading as a Dementor, not the lesson itself.)
He snorted a minute later because
something as juvenile as a chocolate frog seemed woefully inadequate and inappropriate.� (Then
again, he reasoned, perhaps someone who shared traits with the genus Cygnus
wouldn�t mind a sweet in the form of a FROG?).
At his disbelief and questioning
expression, she elaborated, �It�s a personal form, from what I�ve read,
corresponding to core characteristics that will be the same as your human
Transfiguration.�� (She successfully hid a smug smirk behind her teacup at finally gaining
the knowledge on how to protect herself with the spell
heretofore hoarded by Light wizards and selected high-ranking individuals of
the government.)� �I think it was
made easier that I knew my Animagus
animal beforehand.�
�You can transform?!�� Harry was floored (and more than a little impressed).� If he had to name it, he was jealous.
�Yes,� she adopted a misty, wistful
tone.� �While a Seventh Year project is
not mandatory, it is encouraged.� Even if
it won�t lead anywhere,� her piercing eyes looked away, muted and distant for a
moment.� �And if you can find a mentor
that is willing�.�
Harry still didn�t understand� �won�t lead anywhere�?� He�d always thought Animagi were wicked cool!� That
magic was too difficult for him to consider mastering, but it would be beyond
awesome to be able to experience and play with turning into an alter-ego, no
matter the circumstances, uses or reasons behind it!
�My study was simply a personal
curiosity and challenge,� Mrs. Malfoy nee Black explained.� �One of my favourite classes was Transfiguration,
and Minerva indulged me, taking valuable time away from more worthy candidates.� We both knew that I would never have a
career.� But it made us both happy and
pleased to work intimately together.��
She allowed herself a wistful, grateful smile.� �I choose to believe she enjoyed it as much
as I did.� It was a graduation present from
my parents to become registered.�
�Why wouldn�t you use that in a job?�� Harry�s mind was whirring once again, with
how being able to be an Animagus
could help immensely with surveillance operations and the like.� (And it
made complete sense NOW how
McGonagall had trusted and appointed the witch to the DADA position, given
their close history.)
�Oh Mr. Potter, you are so delightful!� Such a breath of fresh air,� she smiled-- a
real genuine affectionate smile that lit up her whole face and then took a
bracing sip of her tea.� The brunet shook
his head, as if to fling off any compliment that he had no idea that he�d been unwittingly
bestowed and didn�t understand.
She leaned in with knowledge on her
lips.
�Everyone knew-- as a second born
daughter-- that I was only bred to be an appropriate Pureblood wife without
complaint or opinion, to secure yet another alliance for the Family.� I was allowed to live due to the fact that I
was propagated, cultivated and manufactured
to manage household help with the upkeep of the grandest Empire they could
acquire.� Of course, I was also expected
to organize the social functions that would further my arranged husband�s aims.� I was to act with proper deference and impeccable
manners at all times to both families� Heads of Houses.� It goes without saying that I would produce
both Lines an heir.� If not a male the
first time, then I would have to try again.�
She said this most matter-of-factly that
it choked Harry�s throat and rendered him speechless.� Here was an extremely intelligent woman, very
accomplished-- and she had to accept that she couldn�t pursue whatever she
wanted in life?� He was enraged.� He was pretty sensitive to the plight of
people who had their Fate dictated to by others right now�.
(Hermione
was right when she tried to drill it into their heads that witches could do anything
they set their mind to� as good as any man-- and the driven and clever ones
were just as worthy of achievements, no matter their blood status!)
In Harry�s continued appalled silence�
and upheaval at why she might be telling him all this� he wondered if she
wasn�t trying to educate him on some of the ways of the Wizarding World that
he�d missed by not being brought up by his Wizarding parents.
When all he could do was gurgle out a strangled
�sorry�, she (too breezily for his tastes) waved it away with a dismissive hand
and blithely continued.� �It was the
social mores of the times, which I am happy to say are
a-changing.� Although, I don�t doubt some
of my ancestors are rolling in their crypts that I am independent and currently
gainfully employed.�
She tittered and laughed away the somber
mood.
�It was an escape for me, to go out
swimming in the ponds as an anonymous bird, hidden away in plain sight.� No one thought to look into the registries at
the Ministry that �meek-little-old-me� would take on such an endeavor.� Lucius knew, of course, but we never spoke of
it.� I like to think that Minerva knew
I�d need the respite.�� She held a
passive, pensive look for only a moment and then smiled with a gentle fondness
before she took up an air of concentration.
Her body rippled for a second and there,
on her chair, stood a beautiful trumpeter swan (in the flesh and feather).� Harry marveled at her transformation, how it
was perfectly HER!
He whooshed a
wide-eyed �ohhh� of appreciation.
Both human and avian heads turned at the
slight scuffling sounds on the staircase that led to her office:
�Mother, are you in?� Draco called in
the most tender, breathless tone Harry had ever heard issue from his
formerly-sneering mouth.� There was an
increasing tempo of toe-taps on the stone steps and then the Slytherclaw burst
through the door in unbounded exhilaration, �I just had the most wonderful
day!� I--�
He abruptly cut off when he saw his
ex-arch-nemesis there, wand lax in his hand, sitting in front of the desk; he startled
badly at spying a large, majestic, white water-fowl that was standing in his
mother�s usual spot.
Draco blinked-- once, twice, three
times-- at the surreal tableau while his housemate just grinned.� The air shimmered and there appeared his mum
in her rightful place.
The blond boy�s cool, polite demeanor
reasserted itself seconds later, covering his youthful enthusiasm and
subsequent upset equilibrium in front of �public�.� He hastily erected the unflappable sense of
decorum drummed into him by his heritage and upbringing.
�Draco, Darling,� Narcissa greeted with
a secretive, coy smile on her artistically painted lips; �Mr. Potter and I were
just having a chat here.� You�re welcome
to join us.� Please, Precious,�
she warbled with amusement in her voice, �tell me what has you in such good
spirits this evening.�
(Harry saw the soft, suffused look of utter
affection and adoration she held for her offspring in her eyes; he couldn�t
help the twinge of envy in his gut when he wondered if his own mother might
have looked upon his happiness with the same mixture of pride and joy.� He wanted to think that Lily might take such
delight in his own contentment.� But he
didn�t know.� Would she approve of
Charlie if she could see them together?�
Would Mrs. Potter have taken such delight in seeing him so at peace, no
matter the circumstances?)
Draco smiled widely again, his stoic
fa�ade cracking under the strain of irrepressible positive energy.� He nodded to the brunet (and was reassured
with one back with a trust that this open display wouldn�t be used against him.)
�Harry�s friends took me to the Muggle
world to show me how the internet computer-thingies work.� Like a field trip for Muggle studies, but
better!� It was amazing!� We don�t even have
anything comparable! �Point Me� and
the �Index Lexicon� spells can�t do
as much research in the same amount of time!�
And the results�.
Absolutely incredible!��
Draco�s expression was alight with
wonder, more unguarded and full of excitement than he�d ever seen him.� (Harry had to grin at his ex-nemesis� effervescence
and the obvious way all his friends were getting along now.)� �Harry and Professor Weasley�s
friends took us and had lunch at a Muggle restaurant and it was delicious!�
Harry smiled indulgently at his classmate�s
infectious energy, but then murmured with a slight frown, �They are your
friends too, now, you know�.�
(The
brunet was happy that the outing went so well with Ron, Hermione, Luna and
Draco.� Hannah and Dean ended up going
too, once they�d been talking more about it and couldn�t resist the allure.� He couldn�t deny that he enjoyed the fact
that Charlie had somehow got them to the point where they were able to put the
past behind them and just have fun with the newfound camaraderie.)
�But Mum,� Draco continued with a
warning note in his voice (and a challenging arch to one of his white-gold
eyebrows), �I think maybe you have
some news for me as well?�
�Mr. Potter and I were just talking
about Senior Projects.� I simply showed
him mine.�� She had a devious Slytherin-smirk
of her own there, but it was tempered with teasing sense of deep love.� She proceeded to explain, much as she�d done
for Harry, about the creation of her animal side.
�Mother!� Draco gasped, clearly astounded and shocked
about his refined Pureblooded matriarch paddling
around in the mucky duck-ponds that surrounded The Manor (though he didn�t
begrudge her the chance to safely get away from all the horror for small
increments of time).
Then it dawned on him.� �It was YOU!�� He breathed in a mixture of awe and
accusation.
�Yes, Mon Petit, I stayed by you next to
the lake bench.� All those times you
looked so stressed and forlorn, so lost
and I couldn�t be there for you�. during all the unpleasant instances�.� I
could only bestow upon you the slight comfort of quiet company�.�
Draco grimaced, looking anguished by the
memories, yet grateful� a strange configuration of his features for sure. His
eyes were wide and shining when he looked up but glanced at his schoolmate,
obviously hesitant to pursue such an emotionally-laden subject in front of the
brunet.
Narcissa delicately cleared her throat and
directed the topic away from any potentially embarrassing outpouring of raw
feelings.� �Mr. Potter here and I were
just discussing Patronus charms�. and
how they are related to Animagi at
their basic source.�
The green-eyed man was startled by
having the attention suddenly focused back on him� and the disconcerting
discovery that the two were somehow linked-- but recovered nicely.� (Well,
maybe not in any suave way, but he
was successful at re-directing the subject.)
�Ah�. I wanted to know how to block Patronus Charms.�� (He
ignored his classmate�s squawk of over �why would anyone want to?�)� �Erm,� he started oh-so-eloquently.� (His dry gulp was audible to all those in the
room.)
�See, there are certain times that no
one wants to be disturbed with the talking ones�. Like when they are� uh�. Um �. �Like sleeping.��
The brunet blushed a vermillion red but went
on, getting on with what he�d started. ��Imperturbable charms don�t stop
them.� I get there are emergencies� and
that makes sense, and is helpful, and that is part of what they are designed
for-- but�. random, unnecessary messages�.at certain times�. aren�t good,� he
finished lamely after his passionate, yet bumbling spiel.
He only hoped that no one would call
attention the fact over what he had just implied.
�Yes,� Narcissa drawled with a small
knowing smile on her face, taking note of the young man�s beet-red face as she
indulged him the farce.�
�Of course.� Sleeping.� I can see how one wouldn�t want their slumber
to be disturbed by superfluous interruptions.� (Unbeknownst to the brunet who
was furiously polishing his glasses on the hem of his shirt, she shot her son
an amused look; she caught a similar expression of understanding there from
her� grown-- baby that would be indiscernible to any outside the Family.)
�Uh, yeah,� Harry murmured.� (He gulped nervously, thinking that maybe the
cultured woman knew exactly what he
was talking about but was too refined to say it out-right.� He was grateful for that small mercy of her
silence if that was the case.)� He
decided to just go along with it.� �I
don�t always need my best mate cracking lame jokes as I�m�. trying to drift
off��
�So you are after a defense against a defense against the Dark Arts?� she queried with
a tongue-in-cheek smirk.� Harry blinked
and then grinned as he realized she was making a joke.� �I am new to this spell, obviously,� Narcissa
admitted.�� But perhaps you should ask Professor
Flitwick?� It is a Charm after all�.�
�I, um, oh�. OK.� Right.��
His stupid mumbling and fidgeting were
as effective broadcasting as the advertisements flashed over the World Cup
stadium before the game.� He was an
idiot.� It now seemed a ridiculous idea
to come to this new professor, as Filius was an expert in Charms.� He was also a member of the Order, who all
seemed to be filled in on that esoteric knowledge.�
And she never had mastery over the spell
to begin with.� (Of course, he hadn�t
known that when he�d started this, but�.)
Narcissa hated to see the young man
closing down and feeling uncomfortable within her social graces.� This wasn�t what she was raised for.
�Perhaps Draco might shed some light on
this?� I believe that maybe some theoretical
knowledge on special warding wouldn�t be amiss?�
It has always been bestowed upon males in the Old Families that were
entrusted with protections on property.�
When you want to go to sleep,
you could cast on your room?� Only urgent
messages would find you if it was deemed utterly necessary?�
�It�s true, Potter�. Er, Harry.�� The blond wizard shook his head at the slip
of his tongue he suffered when faced with a charged situation.
Though, the young Malfoy picked up the
thread of conversation flawlessly-- taking the cue from his mother and effectively
bypassing a chance to ridicule his ex-rival (an urge that had died during their
sixth year).� There was no reason to want
such a thing now.� He was more than honoured
by being let in on the close honesty than anything else.�
He owed him and Charlie such a social
debt he couldn�t even fathom!
(But in truth, the Slytherclaw was just a little
envious seeing that �The Hero� had the reason of having someone else with him
in his bed, as evidenced by his red-faced expression.) (Either THAT, or the
guts and Gryffindor balls to admit he wanted privacy while wanking. �After all, he�d never SEEN him dating anyone!)� (What COULDN�T Harry do if he put his courage
and mind to!!) (Why was he even
thinking so in depth about this?!)
He shook his rattled head and found a
lecture that could be dry and not soaked in the rigors of his past:
�There are all sorts of spells that can
be modified to be selective due to intent, far beyond the basic Silencing and
Repelling Charms.� Hogwarts has them too,
of course.� No truly bellicose intent can
come to anyone.� Ever since that incident
Fourth Year when Hermione got sent Bubotuber Pus that burned her fingers, the
criteria were made even more stringent.�
At Harry� pursed lips at the memories,
Draco added, �Parents can still send Howlers to their children, for
disciplinary reasons, as is their right.�
Direct relations have fair game, but with words only.� But, celebrities have rights too.� There are protections against strangers. Have
you noticed anything truly detrimental in the past several years?�
Now that it was mentioned, there WAS a
surprising lack of weird or dangerous, random fan-mail�. Certainly nothing with
malicious intent had made its way to him!
Harry held a wide-open mouth in
shock.� Misinterpreting it, Draco went
on.� �We have the same surrounding The
Manor.� The spells have to be cast on
physical boundaries of walls and property lines, of course.� But is all based on what the sender means to accomplish.�
Harry looked curious and hopeful, and
both blonds were encouraged by that development, blinking mawkishly behind his
newly applied clean specs.� Both Malfoys
lamented a little at losing the brief glimpse of the unfettered emerald
orbs.� Draco cleared his throat and
continued:
�I can research what the spells have to
say about weighing the content of a missive and bring you the tomes,� Draco
offered. ��Whether it be benign, simply
informative, an emergency or something that can wait until a more opportune
time� things of that nature� or meant to attack.�
The Gryffinin�s blinding grin pleased
them both.
�That could work!� That�s got to be the way to go.� I�d still want to know if something was
urgent, but the other stuff� if it could be put on hold, that would be great.� Muggles have devices that can record a
message that they can leave and listen to later.� If we figured out a way that could be added
too, that would be good.� Thanks!�
Narcissa looked thoughtful a moment and
then uttered, �Perhaps you can add this study to your Senior Project.� It certainly qualifies.�
�Added?��
Draco questioned.� �What else are
you doing?�
By way of explanation, Harry happily
taught his house-mate Expecto Patronum. ��(When he mastered it, and they were all
smiling at the little shining ferret, Draco narrowed his eyes and mouthed in
warning, �not a word, Potter�.)
�Draco,� Narcissa cooed.� �I don�t know why you look so displeased.� Ferrets are extremely intelligent, clever and
ingenious creatures.� They have dexterous
little hands and slither in sneaky ways.�
They are crafty with strategy.� I
think it fits you nicely.�
�And they have nice hair.�� Harry blurted out before he could censor his
mouth. �At the blond boy�s incredulous
gaping, he coughed and spluttered, trying to cover his gaff.� �Your relative Nick Eriksen�s form is a
ferret too.� Must run in the family�.�
Narcissa and Draco shared an inscrutable
look; clearly they had discussed the fact that Professor Weasley had told of
his distant relation.� Harry tried to
change the subject off his awkward outburst of noticing certain features of the
male�s appearances and asked the Slytherclaw, �What are you doing for your
Senior Project?�
�Ah,� his Housemate breathed and leaned
back in his chair, apparently grateful for the switch in topic.� �I am working on an experimental variation of
a potion.� The current recipe is a barely
effective nerve restorative, specifically used for Cruciatus victims, but the sole one out there.� I only have a theoretical basis for mine
because it needs ingredients I can�t get ahold of, but I�m hoping to be taken
into consideration without a practical specimen.� Well, that,
and a few others I can submit though--�
�Like what?� the brunet asked, uncouthly
interrupting; he had yet to stray from staying true to his train of thought in
an entirely Gryffindorish fashion.� �What
can�t you get for the Crucio
cure?�
Harry made no attempt to disguise his hope
OR suspicion.� Green eyes squinted.� Was it something Dark?� Illegal?
Draco looked uncomfortable.� �Well, the main one is Basalisk scales.��
At �The Hero�s� continued confusion, he
elaborated, �They are damn near impossible to find and incredibly rare since
the beasts have been banned from breeding for centuries, but any out there are
too expensive to waste in trial and error tests. They are also a Class-C
non-tradable substance, so I don�t know if I could have them in my possession
due to my probationary status. There would probably be a lot of paperwork and
an inquiry if I were to apply for a permit from the Ministry.� For all these reasons, it makes it unfeasible
to use for mere experimentation.�
Both Malfoys were perplexed by the
sudden wide grin of their guest.� �I may
be able to help you with that!�
The Malfoys exchanged dubious glances,
clearly concerned for his mental well-being.
�We�d have to ask Ron and Hermione,
since they�re the ones that have seen the corpse most recently, to judge what
condition it is in�. but I can take you down to The Chamber sometime to check
it out�.�� He looked back and forth between
the two with a new-found zeal.� �We could
see if there was anything you could use!�
(He
left it unspoken that he would vouch for him to the authorities if need be, but
it was obvious that he wouldn�t think twice about it.)
Draco�s eyes, that had turned flinty at
the possibility at being made a butt of a colossal joke over somehow accessing
Salazar�s deceased beast , found his mother�s; he knew she was silently
assessing and judging the veracity of the young man�s offer.� She nodded once to her boy and turned to her
student.
She was both stiff and yielding at the
same time when she nodded to the brunet.�
�That would be most appreciated and welcome.� It is definitely worth a look.� Thank you, young man.�� Her son was the only one who could tell she
was repressing a triumphant gloating at them having been so easily-- and
selflessly-- handed such a rich treasure.�
(The Malfoys were both wondering what
this meant to the strange assortment of debts between the Families, what his
ulterior motive could be-- if there was one-- but could not pass up this
opportunity if it was genuine.)� The matriarch
was once again bursting at the seams that her son had utilized and maximized
his good fortune by overcoming his childhood rivalry and made the mature choice
of befriending the Potter Heir.
�Mon Ange,�
Narcissa rose, prompting the boys to stand as well.
She gracefully rounded the desk and smoothed
down the lapels of the blond man�s Muggle suit jacket.� She kissed her son�s forehead.� It was so lingering and reverent that it made
Harry�s heart clench.�� Quietly the woman
whispered into his cheeks that she cupped, �You are my light and my love.� You make me proud and I love you-- even more
in every second of every day, with everything you do.�
Then she straightened and stiffened her
spine, gathering the sudden social chill around her that she usually wore like
a protective shall, and lifted her chin.
The witch stepped back and spoke a bit
more loudly and brusquely, so that their company could hear and brush over
their moment of vulnerability.� ��I believe you need to get back to your room
in order to dress in time for dinner.�
Although you look devastatingly dashing in this costume, Dear,� she remarked, plucking absently at one of his vest buttons.
��I would prefer to see you dressed
properly for the evening meal�.�
�Now scoot you two!��
~O~
Harry and Draco walked back to the Blended
House in amiable silence, both mulling over the revelations of the
afternoon.� Things between the pair had never
been better�.
Now that Narcissa had mentioned her
son�s attire, Harry realized this was the first time he�d seen the blond in an
outfit that wasn�t traditional Wizarding garb.�
He always wore robes!� Even during free time at home-- when everyone
else chucked theirs-- he was still formally buttoned and draped up.� The brunet surreptitiously looked several
times out of the corner of his eye at his companion.
Seeing more the chiseled shape of the Slythnclaw�s body with the form-fitting trousers and
impeccably tailored jacket, he could tell the young man was quite good looking
and fit.� He was able to admit that now,
since getting to know the kinder side of his personality.
(This new view of his old rival made it
completely understandable how his Housemate got much of the same tittering of
the younger pupils when he walked by as �The Chosen One� and �Hottest
Professor� Weasley did.� And possibly why Char, without any of the negative
history with the bloke, had immediately suspected the tension between them at
the Welcoming Feast had been sexual somehow.)
But he knew it was also true� what he�d
told his boyfriend on their first night as Blended House� that he was MUCH more
attracted to big bunching muscles than the svelte swimmer�s build that the
blond held.� And while he could admire
aesthetic beauty wherever it occurred, there was NO match for the love he felt
for his Soulmate.
Harry had also been touched� and envious� of
Draco�s mother�s utter adoration in her parting words for her child.� Witnessing them being affectionate and open
together like that rendered the dangerously lethal risks they took during The
War utterly understandable; it made more sense now than ever how they� even
when they both came across as callous and unfeeling in public-- had both gone
to extreme lengths to save one another.
He liked to think that his own mum, willingly
sacrificing herself for him as a baby, would have regarded her son the same
way, like her love would have similarly grown exponentially over the years, if
it had been able�.
(Harry knew beyond a doubt, he would CERTAINLY
have given everything to ensure Lily�s continued well-being!� And that was despite the absence of
experiencing a lifetime of tangible, daily deep devotion.)
Once they�d got home, (and after
Slytherclaw had donned his usual robes) Draco offered his companion a helping
from the bar as he poured himself the very same, a carefully measured two-fingers,
in a tumbler with ice as he did every day before dinner� no more, no less.�
(They
had all become accustomed to the Pureblood�s persnickety habit of partaking in
what he called an �aperitif�.� Even on
weekends, he never took one sip more than that one pre-dinner drink� even when
the rest cut loose a bit and over-indulged.)
Their Housemates were all lounging
around the common room immersed in various activities, but barely paid the
arrival of the ex-rivals any mind.
Both trying to bypass the awkwardness
that came as a result of some rather heavy interactions they�d just had, the
pair engaged in some idle chit-chat.� Harry
was just about to raise his glass and make a cheesy inconsequential toast when
Charlie came barging into the Common Room.
The usually easy-going, tough
dragon-handler flattened himself against the slammed door.� His sapphire eyes were darting back and forth
and he screeched (with a hoarse voice), �FUCK!!�
Green eyes widened in shock.
Then dismay.
And then in an all-consuming worry!
When his Lover�s (disheveled and
compromised and injured) state
finally, completely registered, Harry�s knees buckled.� As if in slow-motion, the cocktail slipped
from his fingers.� The glass shattering
on the floor at his feet went unnoticed.
The brunet wanted to scream but
couldn�t. �His vision tunneled; his
throat was strangled and he couldn�t draw a breath. He was locked in the worst
possible nightmare!
Charlie had been terribly hurt!

~O~
A/N:�
Sorry for the long waits lately.�
RL sucks.� It really, really does.
Just a little side note� the stupid asshole
that shot John Lennon stands out in my mind because A) I loved the genius and The
Beatles growing up and beyond, B) That�s how my parents explained the horrific
murder to me as a young child� it happened because a deluded man just wanted
the recognition in history and notoriety and not that John in any way deserved
it--, and C) That twisted mentality and tragedy made my father blubbering-cry.� It was the only time I ever saw him that
emotional; never saw a tear otherwise (not even when close family members died).
Though, I am proud to say, it didn�t
work!� I did NOT remember the bastard-psycho-killer�s
name until I looked it up just now� SO HA! FUCK YOU Mr. _____ (I won�t repeat
the name to give you any satisfaction!�
>:P)
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WONKY CROSS