Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Weapon	By : uqui Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Voldemort Views: 105435 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 26
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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23/04/2012

Thank you to SuryaPrakash for the betaing. If there are mistakes, they are my fault.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I'm very happy that people are enjoying the fic, and I fervently hope that they continue to enjoy the fic. The odd update schedule from Easter should be over and I should be back on normal schedule from now on which is Fridays.

unneeded - Ollivander and Harry... um... Hehehehehe... Yeah.... You are going to have to wait and see I'm afraid.

Weapon LXIX Seen and Unseen

Ginny looked up at the canopy. The other girls in her dorm were sleeping normally, but for some reason, tonight she couldn't sleep. Here she was living the dream of practically every girl of her generation and it was somehow... hollow.

Harry was... Harry was nothing like she expected. He was attentive and he was always polite, but he was also distant. She could tell he was trying if not to love her, then to at least get to know her, but it was difficult. He was so angry all the time. He hadn't snapped at her, but he had at almost everyone else. Last year, she would have taken that as a sign that he loved her. This year... she just didn't know.

It didn't seem to be the separation from the Dark Lord. She was sure that was providing some frustration, but this seemed deeper. It seemed to be in every part of his being and there were times when even the Shadows seemed angry. She'd seen him once, just once in the Great Hall, looking at Dumbledore and it had taken her a moment to recognise the expression before Harry had schooled his features into something more normal. Contempt only began to describe what she had seen. Loathing, hatred seemed too mild as well. The expression had been black, and while it was mostly directed at the Headmaster, there was a part of it directed elsewhere. She wasn't sure where. It had only been an instant, and Ginny had almost convinced herself that she hadn't seen it, except for the way Harry sat down that day and was lost in his memories.

She had tried asking him what was wrong or how she could help, but Harry had never answered her. Sometimes he just deflected the conversation so skilfully she forgot her question until later. Other times he just ignored the question. It had to be something with the past. She frowned, thinking back to what she knew.

She knew Harry had been raped last year. She knew that Harry's relatives had been captured by the Dark Forces and she knew, from hints and everything she had seen that they had not treated Harry very well... But Harry had gotten over that... Hadn't he?

Ginny closed her eyes as she considered. How long did it take to get over things like that? Did you even get over them at all? No, you probably never 'got over them' but perhaps you grew accustomed... No... she was thinking about this all wrong. Even the words she was thinking seemed too lame, too easy to explain everything. Nothing seemed to encompass the gravity of the situation.

Harry hadn't gotten over anything. He might have come to terms with some of the things that had happened, but she doubted he had fully recovered... which was why... which was why sometimes he was so distant.

So what could she do to help? Ignoring the situation wouldn't make it better and she knew that trying to make him talk would just drive him away. Perhaps she shouldn't try to make him talk but should instead talk to him about what was going on in Hogwarts, talk to him about the regular everyday things, the letters from her mother, that sort of thing. Maybe that would help and maybe that would help him see that she was still there and that she would always be there for him, no matter how distant he was. Maybe she should take him to Hogsmeade next weekend. It would be a normal thing for him to focus on. Maybe it would work and it would give him and her a chance to get to know each other better.

Ginny sighed deeply. It probably wasn't enough, but it was all she could do at the moment. Harry was getting to know her and she was getting to know him better, replacing her preconceived notion of him with the reality. It was different and difficult, but it was for the best in the long run. In time, he would come to love her as she loved him.

Harry smiled and waved the team off to the showers at the end of their practice. They were coming together as a Quidditch team, even the reserves, but they still needed more work and they probably wouldn't be completely ready by the time their first game came around just before Halloween. He was trying to make them ready of course, giving them more and more training, but the old Gryffindor team had had more than training behind them and to his somewhat experienced eye, the differences showed.

He had a new-found appreciation for just how much effort Oliver had put into the team. As expected, Ginny was great as a Chaser, but she needed to learn to work better with the other two. Ron was okay as the Keeper and it was a trade-off between him and Oswald. Harry hadn't decided who'd be the Keeper for the first game, but he thought he'd overheard the two Gryffindors talking and in a moment of sheer unselfishness, Ron had agreed to toss for the game if neither was noticeably better than the other at that time. Harry had been impressed. Ron was growing up fast. He took a last lap around the pitch before Harry brought himself in close to the spectator boxes. Only a few people ever bothered to come and watch the practices and today Neville was one of them, but he hadn't left and was still sitting there quietly. With a small jump, Harry slid off his broom to land beside the other Sixth Year boy.

"Neville," Harry said, when the brown haired boy didn't seem to notice his presence.

Longbottom started and Harry smiled as his friend. "What's the matter?" he asked gently. He thought he knew but it was best to check.

Neville looked up at him, brown eyes sad. "It's nothing," he said.

Harry shook his head. "It is," he said in the same soft voice he'd used before. "It's troubling you so it is something. Can you tell me?"

Neville looked down, almost as if ashamed. "You know how my parents are?"

Harry nodded.

"I thought... I guess I never really thought about it to be honest. I mean I knew why and how they were there and I never really thought..." The other boy trailed off.

"Never really thought about what?" Harry prompted gently when it became obvious Neville was not going to continue.

"I never really thought about the LeStranges and where they were. I knew they were in Azkaban and that was enough, but now... now they are out... And that..." Tears formed in the corner of Neville's eyes. "I'm scared, Harry," he whispered.

Harry nodded. That made sense. If he didn't have the Shadows, if he didn't have the love of the Dark Lord then he would be afraid as well. His friends would help him as much as possible, he knew that, but there was only so much they could do. Ginny was doing her best, but he knew she was confused at times with his distance. She was trying, just as he was trying. They could be friends, but he already had a beloved. He wondered if Ginny would accept that in the end, but knew she probably wouldn't. And all of that did not help Neville. Of all of them, the young man probably had the most honest reaction and possibly the smartest reaction. He was scared and he wasn't afraid to admit it.

He smiled understandingly at Neville. "Me, too," Harry said, running one hand though his hair.

"No, you're not," Neville objected.

"Yes, I am," Harry replied realising the truth. There was some fear in him, but not where most would think. Harry was not afraid of the Dark Lord or the battle; his fears were somewhat more exotic. "I'm very much afraid of what will happen to everyone if I fail."

"That I can understand. I'm just afraid of stupid little things."

"Such as?"

Neville gulped, seeming to fight back his tears. "My parents don't even recognise me when I visit," he started. "But they are all I have and I love them. I don't want to lose them," Neville confessed, his voice trembling.

Harry nodded sympathetically. He really wasn't sure what he should feel as obviously he'd never had parents or anyone he really thought of as a parent, though Sirius definitely came close. He wasn't sure though if he could handle seeing them, visit after visit, the way Neville did, but perhaps because Neville didn't know them any other way, he accepted that. He obviously still loved and would always love his parents. Almost without thinking about it, green eyes half closed as Harry considered the Dark Lord's knowledge. As expected Voldemort had a very good understanding of what the Cruciatus curse did both to the caster and to the victim. His knowledge also included a set of guidelines on how to condition witches and wizards using the curse, how long to hold them under it, what tone of voice to use when talking to them, what to offer certain types of people to get them to agree to follow you. Unsurprisingly, the memories Harry had from the Dark Lord were very thorough on this but while the Dark Lord could use the curse to gain quite a few outcomes, he had never deliberately tortured anyone into insanity. He knew, somewhat theoretically that it could be done, but he preferred to stop while the victim was still sane, to inflict other tortures, or even just to kill them. He was almost merciful in that way.

What was of interest to Harry was the memory of what Voldemort thought would happen if someone was tortured into insanity with the Cruciatus. The curse affected the body and mind to inflict pain, but it mostly dealt with the body and after being subjected to extreme pain for a prolonged period, the mind reacted to protect itself. At least that's what the Dark Lord thought happened. The mind retreated into itself or maybe split itself so that it literally cut off the connections between the mind and the body so that no matter what was done to the body, the mind did not feel or comprehend that. A part of the mind remained or was formed to keep the body breathing and the heart beating but that was all which was why someone who had been tortured into insanity with the Cruciatus curse could be hit by it again and just lie there. The question then arose as to why the mind didn't come back after a period of time? Here his beloved speculated on two reasons and either could be valid... But Harry was in a position to confirm the theory.

"Neville," he said tentatively, "Next time you visit your parents, if you don't mind, could I come?"

Brown eyes stared almost incredulously at him. "Why would you want to do that?" He finally demanded.

"Our parents were friends, Neville, so I feel it's the least I can do," Harry began, "and at the very least, I think I can put some extra warding up around them so that you will know if anyone goes to attack them."

"What? How!"

Harry smiled gently. "Neville, who's knowledge did I get stuffed into my brain?"

Understanding dawned and Neville looked almost sheepish. "I forgot."

"I didn't. I don't think I can do anything to help them," Harry said honestly. "Voldemort's knowledge isn't exactly strong on the healing arts, but he did know how to set wards and alarms, so I can do that much at least so if anyone does go near your parents, we can go to save them."

"We?" Neville asked uncertainly.

"We," Harry confirmed before he smiled. "You'd come to help me if I needed it, so of course I'll come to help you."

Neville smiled up at him though it was still a bit weak.

"We are all afraid," Harry said to the other young man softly. "Even I am afraid, but Neville, you are not the kind of man who lets fear stop him and that's what makes you brave. It's okay to be afraid, Neville. In this situation, I think it would be stupid not to be afraid, but so long as we don't let that fear rule us, then there is nothing to be ashamed of."

"Thank you, Harry," Neville said and would have said more but for the sudden feeling of icy rage he caught from his black haired friend and the way Harry's eyes whipped passed him to focus on something behind him. It was probably a trick of the light but for an instant his green eyes seemed to burn red. Neville spun, a little belatedly and for a moment he saw nothing, but then, far in the distance he caught a flash of robes as someone moved through the trees. They emerged out of the trees, but were careful to remain in the deep shade and bowed towards them before they retreated back.

"Xeoaph," Harry muttered.

Neville frowned. He knew the name; almost everyone did now. Xeoaph Castile, Vampire Elder who had allied his clan with the Order of the Phoenix, and through the Order, with the Ministry. Over the past few weeks he'd heard the name said with varying degrees of awe and respect, but he'd never heard it said with such venom. "What is it?" he asked.

The Boy-Who-Lived visibly collected himself before he sighed and turned to smile a small smile at Neville. "At least I know who's been watching me now," he said in a deliberately cheerful tone. The presence he'd found the other day had definitely been a vampire. So... the Shadows had said that Xeoaph still didn't trust him, but the vampire was prepared to act on that distrust and follow him around.

"What do you mean?"

"Xeoaph doesn't trust the fact that I've been initiated into the Order of the Phoenix He thinks that... I'm not actually sure what he thinks, but probably that the Dark Lord left some controls in my head."

"Did he?"

Neville asked the question so openly and with such honesty that Harry was forced to laugh. After a moment Neville realised his folly and joined in. "Even if he did," Harry said after a few moments, black hair still quivering a bit with mirth, "it was one of the first things Fawkes checked and one of the things I check for now that I can use his knowledge."

"I know, Harry. It was a stupid question," Neville said depreciatingly.

"No, it wasn't Neville. The obvious questions may seem stupid, but they are the most important questions and they are the ones you should be asking rather than assuming the answers for." Harry blinked and seemed to assess his friend. "When you are ready, come and ask me the obvious questions, and I will answer you."

Neville nodded, suddenly feeling very old, but he was also honoured at the depth of trust he could feel from Harry. He'd wondered in childhood what it would be like to be the Boy-Who-Lived, but suddenly he was very thankful he wasn't. Harry needed all the support he could get and Neville was suddenly ashamed to realise that he wasn't giving Harry all he could, but that Harry recognised this and forgave him because when the time came, the black haired young man was sure that his friends would come through for him.

Harry watched the play of emotions on Neville's face. He was so open and honest that it was almost impossible to dislike him. While Longbottom wasn't ready yet to hear the truth, Harry was confident that he would understand and stand at his side. It was something he was thankful for. Neville was a better friend than any of them realised. The vampire though...

The vampire was another matter and Harry couldn't even complain to Dumbledore. The old wizard would merely claim that the vampire was concerned for him and that it wasn't spying. He had unfortunately been kidnapped by the Dark Lord so it wasn't unreasonable to expect to have body guards, but Harry knew that whatever excuse the Headmaster cooked up, it was just that, an excuse. Dumbledore probably trusted him more than the vampire did, but that didn't really mean much. He was too used to distrusting everything, even while he acted like he trusted everyone. Harry sighed. For now there was nothing he could do.

"Merlin! We had him!" Amelia raged in the privacy of her office. Despite the outcome, her Aurors had done a great job and she was not such a callous commander that she would add to their demoralisation with her anger. She wasn't angry at them, but she was very frustrated.

It had been a stroke of luck for them to detect the Dark Lord. They hadn't had the time to call in re-enforcements so they had done what they could and it had been close. She wasn't sure if she should be consoled by that or disappointed. The Unspeakables had suggested the group attack from the roof at short notice and if she was fair, it had worked exactly the way they said it would. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had seemingly used all his energy blocking it and that had allowed the ground forces to attack him.

But no one had expected him to be that strong. He'd been able to counter their attack and keep his protes shield up. With the amount of power they had put into the attack that should not have been possible. And by Merlin, where exactly had that basilisk come from? You-Know-Who had an affinity with serpents, everyone knew that, but to be able to materialise a full grown thirty foot basilisk from nothing was ridiculous. No one and no instrument had been able to detect the summoning charm and the Unspeakables report was on her desk. They didn't know how he'd done it, but they speculated that the serpent had been with him the entire time, probably under a shrinking charm or less likely a disillusion charm. Those were the more normal reasons they offered. She'd read further to find their more exotic lines of speculation before she'd forcibly put down the report. Unknown summoning, symbiosis or power of Slytherin were not what she wanted to know about, not with eight Aurors dead.

That was another thing that was annoying her. No one thought that eight Aurors dead was a bad loss. They considered it a good result because of the rushed training, and the rawness of most of the Auror Corps. The Dark Forces were attacking every day. The Aurors were striking back at what they could, but they didn't have the training and it showed. They were getting there. Official history said that Lucius' Rebellion meant that the Dark Forces could escape. Amelia knew the truth. Lucius' Rebellion was the reason they could still fight. And they used the time the Rebel Death Eater had given them to train and to cement alliances, but then in the first battle where they clearly had the upper hand against the one being they absolutely had to defeat, he escapes and in his escape he kills the wizard acting as the focus for their assault and one of the witches who had raised the anti-apparition wards. Which said nothing about poor brave Curil.

Amelia hoped his spirit was comforted by the fact he now ranked as one of the few wizards to ever score a hit on the Dark Lord and while there had been blood, she didn't want to hope too hard that Curil had done more damage than he had. It hurt, but it was best to assume that Curil had only scratched the Dark Lord. The dark wizard had moved easily enough after he'd been stabbed and he'd been hit on his right side. Unless he'd done something weird with his physiology then there was little chance that anything vital had been hit.

The Head of the DMLE leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes as she breathed deeply. Despite her frustration and despite the losses, they had done well. The Goblin device worked and they had already ordered the parts for many, many more. The Unspeakables spell had also worked. And if they could get back up for the next time then the battle should be different, and there would be a next time. She wasn't sure when, but she swore to herself that there would be one.

The souls of the eight Aurors today would one day rest in peace, knowing that their sacrifice acted as the confirmation that victory was possible. She would see to that, one way or another.

From one point of view it was probably an amusing sight, the sight of the Dark Lord sitting on his throne, reading the paper as if he was some regular wizard sitting at their breakfast table, but no one watching was laughing. He'd been somewhat pleased with the papers lately, but today a frown marred his features.

The idiot reporter had finally had his article published and the Serpent Lord was pleased to see that there hadn't been that much editing. Those who were astute would see the truth, though he was honest enough to admit to himself that most wouldn't read the real story. And he had been surprisingly prideful when his beloved's N.E.W.T. results had been announced. While he had no doubt that Harry could have achieved those results on his own, had he been inclined to study, it was gratifying to know that it was his knowledge that was so encompassing. Of course, he knew things to a far greater level than mere N.E.W.T.s but the results of such testing on the wizarding public could not be underestimated.

Already they were coming to view Harry as their saviour and had placed on him the expectation that he had to fight. If Harry had been more mercenarily inclined, he wondered what the Ministry would be prepared to pay? No matter; soon enough the Ministry and everything else would be bowing to him.

Today though, the paper was running the risk of total annihilation. Of necessity they had reported the ambush in Diagon Alley and while he understood, even better than they did, the purpose of propaganda, it didn't mean he liked it when it was used against him. They had taken a spin emphasising the fact that he had been injured and the cut on his ribs throbbed with his annoyance and they had definitely downplayed the deaths. The report was annoying but necessary.

What was really angering him was the reports about the Goblins. The fact that he'd been caught in Diagon Alley was attributed to the Goblins though details were scarce. He would need better information about that, but that could be gained soon from his Ministry contacts. The implication was rather obvious though; the Goblins had decided to forgo neutrality. There was one comment from a goblin quoted and it was as cryptic as always "You do not short change us." He understood the meaning. The Goblins had taken offence to the Death Eaters' emptying of their vaults.

That was more than frustrating; it was dangerous. He didn't have to pay the Death Eaters, but there were certain expenses he did meet and they were not going to go away. The Ministry had changed the laws so that convicted felons could not gain lawful access to their vaults until they had served their sentence. Nor could they sign over access to someone else unless that was done and approved by the Ministry. That took care of any dependents the felon may have. He almost wished the Ministry had tried to confiscate the vaults but they weren't that stupid. What it meant for him was that he was on a restricted cash flow and that could be fatal.

Suddenly the Dark Lord smiled and resisted the urge to laugh.

There was nothing wrong with this. He had wanted the Ministry to be smarter and stronger. When he'd risen to take it all, his victory was assured but was hollow. This time when his forces rose, it would be grand and with the Ministry having tried everything to stop him, their defeat would be absolute.

Besides, he'd broken into Gringotts once before in the weakling body of that insipid wizard, Quirrell. He could do it again and this time it would be far easier. No doubt the Goblins had improved their security but his strength was not the same. And this time he could take as many of his forces as he desired. No, the Goblins siding with the Ministry openly was not a disaster; it was just a set back and an opportunity. If they maintained neutrality he had been prepared to wait before he annihilated them. Since they had chosen to ally with the Ministry, he didn't have to wait before he indulged himself.

No, the Goblins were not a problem... the real problem was hidden on page ten. It was just a single name on the wanted notification for one of his Death Eaters. By itself it wasn't unusual. The papers were expected to publish wanted notices. The problem with this one was that it was for one still recovering from Azkaban and the list of who had and had not survived was not something that was public knowledge. Only his Death Eaters knew about that... and that included Snape.

Carefully the Dark Lord folded the paper before he rested his chin on one hand, thinking. He already knew how the information had been released. Snape would have told the Order and that reporter would have passed on some names. He expected Severus to give the Order information because he also fed information back. The question, as always, was if Snape had chosen to support the Light. In the past he'd have dismissed the slip in information. It wasn't that important after all and it was possible they'd merely selected the name at random, not knowing if that particular Death Eater was alive or not.

But something felt different. He wasn't sure what was different since the sense was elusive.

:Summon him,: Xatarass said into his mind. :If he comes, he's loyal, if he doesn't, then you will know his choice.:

:True,: Voldemort agreed with his inner serpent. :I don't believe I will see Snape again.:

:Oh you will,: Xatarass disagreed. :He'll be covered in blood, begging for forgiveness, but you will see him again.:

The Dark Lord smiled. Xatarass always did have a way with words.

:And for the goblins?:

:Exterminate them all,: the great basilisk said almost lazily.

Red eyes closed, but the Dark Lord didn't laugh. He was suddenly tired and just for today he didn't feel like playing the game. He missed his mate, and the end of the year could not come fast enough for him.

It was a beautiful autumn day and they were taking full advantage of it. With a little bit of wrangling the House Elves had provided them with a small picnic to eat under the trees near the lake. It was quiet and restful here and Hermione was almost sorry that they had to discuss something so ugly when it would be just so much nicer to rest, but she felt that with Halloween only days away that they needed to have this discussion now.

Harry would join them soon, but there were one or two things she needed to say first. He had almost seemed to anticipate that when he said he needed to return a book to the library.

Ron sighed. He wanted to watch this Quidditch game, but he was becoming resigned to the fact that the only games he'd see this year were the ones he played in. Somehow he could feel it. He wanted to see this one because it was Hufflepuff versus Slytherin and this was the only game Slytherin played before they were matched against Gryffindor in mid-December. The Slytherins had been trying to hide it, but Ron was apparently used to watching them because he could see the splits in their house. There were jabs and snide comments, and he was interested to see if they carried over to Quidditch or if they put that aside for the game. "What was so important that you dragged us here, Hermione?"

"Harry is," she said. "We all know what happened last year and while nothing has been said, I think we have to assume that something happened during his childhood."

"He's always so angry," Ginny said.

"I know," Hermione agreed. Neville, Luna and Ron just listened. "That's what I wanted to talk about. Even if I'm wrong and nothing happened at the Dursleys' there's still what happened last year. That's bad enough, but we also know that he didn't have a great childhood so that's going to make things more difficult."

"Make what more difficult?" Neville asked softly.

"Healing," Luna answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Exactly. I have no idea what he's going through, and to be honest, I don't want to know," Hermione said, almost ashamed. "But he's going to be a long time healing and we are going to have to be really patient and supportive."

They all looked to the ground at that. "And there is one more thing," Hermione whispered and her voice held a note of almost unfathomable sadness. She was almost afraid to speak the words. "Harry may never recover."

Silence reigned.

"He will," Luna said with a voice that rang of surety. "The Phoenix has already risen and all that remains is remembered pain and that will be shed when the cause returns to memory."

"How very astute," Harry said as he walked up. He had another small basket of food with him and he sat down with a smile. "I'm sorry I've been so distant."

"It's alright, Harry," Ginny was quick to reassure him as she made a space next to her.

"No, it's not," he objected. "I should be stronger."

"Harry," Hermione said looking at her friend with a soft smile. "I know I lecture a lot, but this is important. It will take a while for you to heal from what happened last year, but we will be here the entire time. If you are angry then that's okay, if you are sad then that's okay. We'll be here for you. And I know you don't like to ask for things Harry, but if there is something you need, then you can ask us."

Harry looked to the ground, chewing his sandwich slowly. Hermione had probably done all sorts of research over the summer about what people went through after they were raped. She would know what the usual procedure for healing was and she would try to help that along. She was a good friend. They were all good friends because none of them had flinched from that truth and they were still willing to stand beside him. He hoped that they would not flinch from the real truth, but only time would tell for that. She didn't know about the Muggle paedophiles, but he knew Hermione probably suspected. She'd have to be blind otherwise and she was not blind.

"What do you need?" she asked.

"I need closure," Harry was surprised at the ease with which he answered. :I can see what my beloved is doing to those Muggles, but it's not enough and it's not what I really want.:

"Is that all?" There was a tiny note of disbelief in her voice and Harry knew his answer wasn't fitting her script. Well he could always answer truthfully. She wouldn't let it rest until he did. "What do you want?"

"I want closure," Harry repeated. "I want justice," he added before he snarled. "I want pain. I want them to hurt, I want them to know my pain and I want them to know what I suffered. I want them to suffer." Harry growled the last almost spitting the words. He felt the phoenix tattoo of Fawkes stir at his anger and the presence of the phoenix came to him briefly. Harry heard a small note of comfort from the firebird coupled with acceptance and understanding. Inwardly, he laughed. The phoenix understood so little and after a moment Harry's anger surged again driving Fawkes from him. The firebird thought it was his anger over the past, but Harry smiled internally. That was very interesting, but not something he could consider now.

Luna just nodded, her face serene. Ron looked a bit startled, but after a moment his face settled into understanding. Striking back, revenge, was after all, a very Gryffindor thing and he understood that. He didn't understand everything, because he didn't understand Harry's Slytherin side's desire for truly returning the pain. Neville looked surprised, but he too quickly showed understanding. Hermione almost looked triumphant, as if she had been expecting the words, but like Ron she probably didn't understand the true extent. Ginny was the one who was out of place. She looked horrified.

"No," Ginny breathed, pushing her red hair over one shoulder. "You don't, Harry. You would never want another to be in pain! You are stronger than that!"

Green eyes bored into blue but Ginny didn't back down and inwardly Harry wondered how Ginny could read him so incorrectly after being around him for so long. Did she not understand human nature at all? The others at least knew it was natural for him to want to strike back; they accepted that as normal, even if they didn't understand exactly what he would do. She persisted in her delusions.

He snorted in somewhat wry amusement. "Not yet I'm not. Not yet," he repeated, closing brilliant green eyes and flipping back to the grass, pulling his anger back. Now that Hermione had seen him rant, she would leave it be for a while. And it was probably a good thing to let his feelings out. He wasn't a saint. He was human. He hurt, he laughed, he bled and loved and hated. His friends would have to understand that if they were to come with him that he was only human and that for all the Order blathered about the Greater Good, his only interest was in protecting those he loved and destroying those he hated.

For good or ill, that was his greater good.

Next chappy is LV/HP goodness!~

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