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What it comes down to	By : melinda1293 Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 115219 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 7
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
Chapter 8. Flight of the Phoenix
Harry sank to his knees and sat there motionless, still in shock from all that had transpired. His fevered brain was incapable of coming to grips with what Snape had done, or what he had done for Snape, after everything there was between them.
It only took seconds for the Death Eaters to stumble over him as they rushed to the spot where Snape had vanished a moment before. Harry was unable to even formulate a plan before they were upon him.
“We’ve got him!” one of them yelled excitedly. “He’s right here!”
Grabbing him by the shoulder, the Death Eater’s fingers dug into the flesh painfully tightly as if afraid Harry might vanish next. Then a hard rap to the top of his head and the spell was undone.
Bellatrix stared at him in surprise for a moment, and then walked towards him slowly, cocking her head to the side as she considered him.
Good luck with that one, Harry thought miserably. I don’t know why I did it either.
As if she’d heard his thoughts, she threw back her head and laughed in delight.
“Oh, Potter,” she said gleefully. “But you are full of surprises!”
Reaching down, she caressed his face. Harry let her do it. The fight had gone completely out of him. So physically and mentally traumatized, so filled with grief, he no longer cared what they did to him here. Not anymore.
He’d stayed behind. Voluntarily given himself up for the second time. He knew it was suicide, but there was no thought of escaping if Ron and Hermione weren’t going with him. Even if they weren’t coming out of here alive, he was taking them home or he would die here alongside them.
He was pulled roughly to his feet, but he felt as if he were floating. As his arms were chained behind his back, he staggered into one of his captors. The room was spinning. Harry was leaning heavily on someone now, drained, unable to support his own weight. Whoever it was had their arm around his waist, and his head was lying on their shoulder, looking for all the world like friends, or maybe lovers. People were talking around him, to him, but he didn’t understand the words. He was so tired.
Then they were walking, Harry still being almost completely supported, his feet dragging in the dirt. The arm around his waist pulled him forward. He was not the least bit interested in where they might be going or what they had in store for him when they got there. What more could they do to him?
They came to a halt in front of the heavy wooden door. Harry assumed they were entering the torture room again, but as they crossed the threshold, he heard more yelling. Voices that were as familiar to him as his own, though he hadn’t heard them for so long, were screaming, crying.
Harry went limp with shock when he saw them. Ron and Hermione, still very much alive, shouting their relief, their fear. It was like phoenix song to his ears, and his heart ached at the sight of them. He’d thought he’d lost them. He’d foolishly believed Snape’s lies, and now they were here, returned to him.
Dropped in the middle of the room, he simply sat on his knees, staring at Ron and Hermione, drinking them in.
Snape! He thought viciously, He was such a fucking Slytherin! He would have left Ron and Hermione here to die! Harry wished like hell now that he’d left the greasy bastard stunned on the floor, left him here to die. He might have been able to conceal the portkey and somehow manage to free Ron and Hermione, to transport them all out of here. Instead he’d used it on Snape. He felt like an idiot, furious with himself, and with Snape.
“Well, Harry,” Bellatrix was saying. “I thought Severus had ruined all our fun, but you just keep coming back for more, don’t you?”
She stood near him, running her hand through his dirt matted, sweat damp hair, stroking him like a beloved pet.
“I believe we have time for a few more games before the Dark Lord returns. Would you like to play?” she asked as she strolled around him, twirling a lock of his hair between her fingers.
Harry didn’t reply. Still gazing at Ron and Hermione, he only barely registering that Bellatrix was even speaking to him at all.
“No? Well, maybe we’ll play with your little friends here then. I bet the mudblood and the blood traitor would love to play with us. They must be quite bored from standing around in here for so long, don’t you think?”
Harry blinked, her words sinking in as he glanced around. At least five other Death Eaters besides Bellatrix were in the room, Macnair and Greyback among them. Rudolphus stood nearest Ron, and Harry went cold all over with fear. Harry knew the type of games he thought they’d like to play with Ron and Hermione, and it terrified him.
“Don’t hurt them,” he begged, his voice shaking with fear. “Please. I’ll do anything you want. Just let them go.”
“Oh, Potter,” she said with a laugh. “You make this sooooo easy.”
“You don’t need them,” he tried, desperate to reason with her. “I’ll stay. I…I won’t try to leave, just like with Snape. I promise.”
He knew it was no good, knew that he had nothing to bargain with, but he couldn’t stop himself trying.
“Just let them go,” he pleaded.
“Oh, no, Harry, I wouldn’t dream of allowing them to depart without giving them the chance to repay us for our hospitality. That would be rude.”
She laughed again. The others joined in.
He was feeling panic at her words, at what she would do to them. Oh, God! They were going to rape and torture his friends to death or into insanity in front of him. He could do nothing to stop it.
“I think,” she continued slowly, deliberately, her finger on her lips as she looked between Ron and Hermione thoughtfully. “First, I’d like you to show the blood traitor here what you’ve learned in our lessons together, Harry. You can demonstrate on the girl.”
It took him a minute to absorb her meaning, his mind still flying in all directions. Their lessons… lessons … and then the images of the long night with her in the torture room played in his head. His mouth fell open in horror.
“Oh, God, Nooooo!” he moaned.
Horrified, he was shaking his head in disbelief, his voice barely a whisper.
“No. You can do whatever you want to me, please.”
“I know I can,” she purred, smiling down at him. “And what I want is for you to entertain me.”
“I will…I will…Just you and me, okay?” he pleaded.
“Crucio!” she yelled in answer.
Harry jerked away from her automatically, but it wasn’t him in pain. It was Ron. Ron who was screaming with his voice echoing off the walls, Ron who was thrashing against the chains binding him, his face contorted in agony.
“NOOOO!” Harry wailed, struggling, trying to get to his feet. “NO, STOP!”
Bellatrix lifted the curse. Ron hung limply from the wrists, shaking all over, curling into himself, and sobbing. Hermione was crying, too, and Harry didn’t know it, but tears were also rolling down his cheeks.
“Look, let’s just end this. Just call Voldemort, okay?”
Harry was desperate, completely out of options.
“Just, JUST PRESS YOUR FUCKING MARK!” he screamed.
Bellatrix struck him hard across the face, sending him crashing into the dirt.
“How dare you use the Dark Lord’s name, boy!” she spat, madness in her eyes as she looked down at him.
“I can’t do it,” he told her miserably from the floor. “I can’t.”
“Greyback,” she called suddenly.
Harry watched in horror as Greyback moved close to Hermione. Lifting a handful of her hair to his nose, he sniffed and then grinned at her hungrily with his razor sharp teeth before licking his lips. Hermione jerked away from him with a cry of terror.
“None of the other Death Eaters will touch the mudblood but Greyback here,” she informed Harry, turning back to him. “He’s volunteered to break her in. I daresay we’ll get a chance to see how dirty her blood really is, Harry. What do you think?”
Harry was numb with fear, his mind racing with terrible images of Greyback brutalizing Hermione, forced to watch helplessly as the Werewolf savaged her. The thought made him physically ill.
“GET AWAY FROM HER!” Ron screamed, struggling furiously with his bonds, and he was hit with the Cruciatus curse again, cast by Rudolphus this time.
Harry was frantic, shaking all over.
“Okay, okay,” he begged. “Stop!”
The curse was lifted off Ron once again at his pleading.
“Please stop hurting them.”
“Then do it, Harry. Show me what you’ve learned, or Greyback will do it for you. Then, perhaps we can whore your other little friend out to Rudolphus. He does love a fighter, and with that ginger hair of his, I bet the blood traitor’s got a real temper on him.”
Harry glared at Bellatrix, his hatred for her boiling over.
“I swear to God! I will kill you,” he growled.
She smiled widely as several others laughed.
“Well, we’ll just have to see about that.”
Harry sat there on his knees in the dirt, his head down, his shoulders slumped in defeat while everyone in the room watched him, and waited.
“I can’t do it,” he finally admitted dejectedly.
“Greyback!”
“NO! I mean I physically can’t do it,” he snarled.
“Oh, don’t worry, Harry,” she replied with a mad cackle, removing a small flask from the pockets of her robes. “I’ve brought something for that.”
Harry stared at the glass phial in alarm, unsure what it contained, knowing it was nothing good.
“Please don’t make me do this,” he whispered as she removed the cork stopper and bluish smoke billowed over the top. But she was pitiless, his captor unmerciful. His pleading had fallen onto deaf ears.
She approached him again, and Harry closed his mouth firmly.
“Open up, Harry,” she cooed, but he refused, and then someone jerked his head back by the hair.
Harry struggled, but it was no use, and soon they had his mouth pried open, and she poured the contents down his throat. He tried to spit it out, but they held his mouth closed and pinched his nose so that he was forced to swallow. He coughed as it went down. It was mildly peppery, and he thought stupidly that she’d given him a dose of Pepper-up potion for a moment.
It burned as it travelled down his throat and into his stomach, and then he felt heat radiating out through his limbs. Beads of sweat broke out over his forehead, his heart beat rapidly in his chest, and he became light-headed as all the blood rushed from it, pooling in his groin. Harry was mortified as his cock swelled and hardened painfully, engorged with blood. He erupted in goose bumps as all the hairs on his body seemed to stand on end. Every one of them felt like an exposed nerve. His vision darkened as his pupils dilated, so that the green was almost entirely engulfed in black.
He was left panting now with arousal, the potion so effective on his damaged body. Quivering with need, still on his knees in the dungeon of Malfoy Manor with his arms still shackled behind his back, Harry groaned trying to fight against his body’s response. He kept blinking trying to clear his head, trying to get control of his mind and his body, but he couldn’t throw off the potent effects of the potion.
“Up you get now, Harry,” she said.
He was pulled roughly to his feet, his arousal heavy between his legs.
It took him a minute to steady himself as his head swam and the room spun. Then Bellatrix was next to him, running her hands over his shoulders, across his nipples which hardened at her touch, and then down his belly. Her breath ghosted over his sensitized skin, and his nostrils flared as he sucked in a breath of anticipation. But she removed her hands from his stomach before they traveled further, and his cock jerked, begging for attention. She smiled at his eagerness, satisfied with the potions effects.
His desire and hatred for her was so great at this moment that he wanted to wrap his hands around her throat. He wanted her body under him, here on the dirt floor. He wanted to fuck her while her eyes bulged as she fought to breath, to come inside her while she was in the throes of death. The image was so clear in his mind that his cock jumped again, his whole body shaking in both excitement and terror. He knew some of it was the potion, but his own bloodlust surprised him, sickened him. They were turning him into something he didn’t even recognize anymore.
Harry was lead forward to stand in front of Hermione, every movement causing his cock to bounce or brush against his thigh and an explosion of stars to erupt in his vision. Staring at Hermione, he tried to get himself under control. His hatred bled out of him at the sight of her, terrified in front of him. The part of himself he still recognized ached to comfort her.
Then his arms were released suddenly from their bonds. Harry thought to turn on Bellatrix, the consequences be damned, but at the same moment, Hermione shrieked. With another flick of her wand, Bellatrix had stripped away her clothing, leaving her bare, exposed. The Death Eaters were laughing again as Harry rushed to cover her, to shield her with his own naked body.
“Do it, Harry,” Bellatrix warned, her wand on him.
Glaring at her, Harry clenched his fists, and then slowly turned back to Hermione. She was making frightened little mewling noises in her throat, like muted whimpers, and it caused a frenzy of desire in him.
Stepping in close to Hermione, he pressed his forehead to hers, staring into her eyes which were filled with fear. Tears leaked out the sides and down her cheeks, but he was beyond crying now. He felt like he was actually breaking apart as he stared at her.
She was the person closest to him in the world. The one who stayed with him after Ron had left that terrible night in the tent, deserting him for the second time in his life. Hermione had never abandoned him. She was more than a sister to him, more than a friend. She was the voice of his conscience, his confidant, his partner, and on more than one occasion, his savior. She had always followed him, and this was where he had led her.
He brushed his lips softly over hers.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered against them as he placed his hand behind her knee and pulled her leg up.
Bracing her thigh against his hip, he pushed her back against the wall. Hermione burst into tears.
Ron was screaming again, not from the Cruciatus curse, Harry knew, but from the betrayal he was witnessing. The very thing the piece of Voldemort’s soul from the locket had shown him, his worst fear; Harry and Hermione together like this, but in a way even the Horcrux couldn’t have conceived to torment Ron. Harry knew this was devastating him, knew that Ron would never forgive him for this vile act, and he felt more pieces of himself crumbling apart.
Squeezing his eyes shut; his forehead still pressed against hers, Harry leaned into her so that the head of his swollen cock was brushing against her. Lubricus, he thought desperately, for he did not want to hurt her, and he heard her gasp of surprise. The sound washed over him, his lust for her, artificially induced, but no less real, causing him to growl in the back of his throat.
He pinned her to the wall with his body, one hand still gripping her thigh tightly while with the other he fumbled to position himself at her opening. He was shaking with need as he slid the weeping head of his cock across her slit, forward and then backward, opening her to him, moistening her folds and lubricating the way. Then he pressed his hips forward, breaching her, his body screaming its approval.
“No.” she sobbed with every fearful breath.
He could feel her heart beating erratically against his own chest. Sucking in his breath, Harry held it while he pushed forward, penetrating her. Hermione went stiff all over, resisting him, fighting against the invasion.
She was so incredibly tight around him as he inched slowly into her, that it was actually painful. It felt like he was peeling open inside her. Then he pressed against something, like a membrane or barrier of some sort, and he stopped, blowing out the breath he was still holding.
Releasing the grip he had on himself, he placed his forearm on the stone wall, his hand next to her head. Touching her face, he felt the tears on her cheeks as she begged him with her eyes, still nose to nose with him. He stood like that for a moment, panting now, trying to hold himself back, his legs straining with the effort to keep from thrusting into her.
Harry knew he was hurting her, knew she had never done this before, knew he was taking something precious from her, but he couldn’t stop now. He was so completely in the grip of the powerful potion, so blind with lust, that it was taking a supreme effort not to rut wildly against her.
Pulling back slightly and feeling some relief to himself, he squeezed his eyes shut again, wanting the pain of this to be quick. His body was begging him to hurry, but he ignored it. Lifting his head from hers, he leaned into her hair, below her ear inhaling her scent, along her neck, and out across her collar bone. Then he pressed his lips against her bare shoulder and quickly bit down, hard.
She jerked in surprise, giving a small gasp of pain and relaxing her stiffened muscles for a fraction of a second, which was all Harry needed. Taking advantage of the moment, Harry gave a powerful thrust and pushed all the way into her swiftly, burying himself inside her as she cried out in renewed pain and shock.
Then he did cry.
Ron was hysterical, incoherent with rage, screaming obscenities at him, and Hermione was sobbing again, too. Tears slid from his eyes, down his nose as Harry stood there, fully encased by her warm, firm heat, trying to let her body adjust around him, to recover from the shock while he gritted his teeth against the throbbing of his cock.
Looking into her eyes, Harry pleaded silently for her forgiveness because he had to move again. He’d stayed there as long as he could before his own need was overwhelming him. He slid the hand touching her face behind her head, cupping it to protect it from the assault he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to control. But Hermione buried her face in his neck instead. So he held her to him like that, resting his cheek on the crown of her head as he began to move while she wept into his neck.
Pulling back slowly, he drove into her again, letting out a shuddering breath as he did so. She was so tight around him, so warm and wet that his eyes rolled up in his head. The pleasure was so intense that he was trembling all over, biting down on his own lips painfully to try and stifle the moans escaping him every time he pressed into her.
Harry took her like that. He took her virginity and her dignity while she was chained against the wall as a room full of Death Eaters looked on. They laughed, jeering, and catcalling while she cried into his shoulder and Ron’s screams rang in his ears. Pieces of himself, his sanity were breaking away as he violated her, their friendship crumbling apart with every thrust into her body.
Harry tried to be quick. He tried to be gentle, fighting against the potion and the demands of his fevered body. Then he was gasping with every stroke, all the sounds around him finally muffled by the roaring in his own ears as his climax approached. He wanted to bury himself inside her, to yell out his release, but he pulled out of her at the last moment, afraid to come inside her.
Staggering backwards, he fell back to his knees, growling as his cock convulsed, spilling his seed into his hand while he shuddered all over with the ecstasy of his release and with the horror of what he’d done. Harry was breathing hard, willing his body to calm down, for his vision to clear and his ears to stop ringing, for his heart to stop breaking, while the effects of the potion drained out of him, having fulfilled its purpose, leaving him cold all over.
“My, God, Harry!” Bellatrix exclaimed, her voice heavy with desire. “You are exquisite. Such strength of will, so beautifully stubborn. You’ve proved remarkably resilient, you know. How I would love more time with you to break you completely.”
Yet Harry knew that she already had. She’d finally stripped him of everything. He was devastated when he believed Ron and Hermione were dead, but even then he might have fought back to avenge them, like he had with Cedric, Sirius, and Dumbledore, those losses causing him to fight harder. But turning them against him like this was a masterstroke, he thought, the coup de grâce of her brilliantly played game. Without them, he was nothing. Her final move was a checkmate that would cause everyone he loved to abandon him, for there would be no more Molly and Arthur, no Fred and George, no Ginny. No Hagrid or Lupin or Tonks either, once they’d learned what he’d done. All of them would be gone. Harry actually wrapped his arms around himself to keep from falling to pieces at the realization.
He looked up at Hermione, to beg her forgiveness, to try to make her understand, but what he saw stopped him cold. He’d left her there exposed to the whole room. It appeared he’d discarded her once he was finished with her. Harry could see the clearly defined impression of his hand on her thigh from where he’d gripped her while he raped her, bruised where his fingertips had dug in to her flesh, and he felt sick.
She was shaking with sobs, and there was blood smeared on her other thigh; her blood, evidence of what he’d stolen from her. At the sight of it, he vomited. Heaving up the remains of the potion, and then bile, and then nothing, though he continued to retch, Harry sobbed between the violent contracting of his stomach.
“Now, now, Harry, it’s almost over,” Bellatrix said soothingly. “I was going to have you show us what Snape taught you. For the blood traitor to get his turn with you. Lucius said it was remarkable to watch, but I think now that Snape has proven his true loyalty that maybe the whole thing between you two was an act. That perhaps you’ve been sucking him off for years now.”
Harry shook his head in denial, still keening in misery.
“Just let them go,” he begged. “I did what you wanted. Let them go now.”
“The Dark Lord returns, Harry, and it will be my honor to serve you up to him on a silver platter,” she went on, ignoring his pleading. “Severus’s betrayal will prove to him that I am his most faithful, his most loyal servant. And he will know his faith in me was not unfounded. That I alone could be trusted with his most secret of secrets, his most prized of possessions. When others have failed him, Lucius, Snape—”
“You’re fucking delusional!” he spat, suddenly furious again. “Voldemort doesn’t give a damn about you or anyone el—”
His head was jerked suddenly, violently to the side, his nose spraying blood as her booted foot connected with his face, leaving him dazed and blinded by pain.
“I warned you not to speak his name, Potter!” she growled furiously, utterly deranged as she glared down at him. “I think perhaps we should see how much Weasley can take before he breaks.”
Then Ron was screaming again as she cursed him, his limbs jerking, his body convulsing, arching off the wall. Mindless of the throbbing pain, Harry tried to stagger up, intent on bringing Bellatrix down, feeling like he was moving in slow motion. Then Hermione was screaming as she, too, was hit with the Cruciatus.
Bellatrix was laughing, and he had almost reached her when he was grabbed from behind by Greyback. Harry kicked out, trying to topple Bellatrix as he was pulled back into Greyback’s huge chest, his arms pinned to his sides.
“Looks like I’m first in line after all, my little bitch,” Greyback growled in his ear.
Pressing his arousal into Harry’s backside, Greyback ground against him as Harry struggled frantically to free himself from the werewolf’s iron grip. Blood poured from his nose as Ron screamed, Hermione screamed, Harry screamed.
He could feel it building in him, rage so hot that it was actually billowing out of him, rolling off him in waves. Bubbling under his skin were waves of golden flames. Those same golden flames that had shot out of his wand at Voldemort when they fled Privet Drive all those months ago, when his wand had acted of its own accord, when it had shattered Lucius’s wand. But he had no wand this time. The flames were coming from him, out of his pores. Instinctively, he held his hands out towards Hermione and Ron, to protect them from himself, from the explosion he could feel building in him. Shield charms erupted around them and cut off their screaming at last. But he was still screaming. He couldn’t stop, and he could feel his last hold on his sanity breaking loose, his hatred fueling the flames consuming him.
He would not let them torture Ron and Hermione into madness! Would not let these monsters kill them here in front of him!
Unable to hold him any longer, Greyback released him finally, and Harry exploded into flames. Blowing all the Death Eaters backwards off their feet, his magic slammed them into the walls while he shielded Ron and Hermione from his vengeance. The golden flames blackened the walls, and warped the door, setting the room on fire while he screamed in fury. He screamed until he’d exhausted all his strength, screamed until his voice shattered. And then he dropped his hands at last, dazed, completely undone, just standing in the middle of the room that had been devastated by his wrath.
Harry didn’t know how long he stood there in shock while his nose poured blood, watching the room fill up with smoke, watching the flames still licking up the charred face of who he thought had been Rudolphus. The Death Eaters who’d been blown into the walls had been set alight from the flames, burned beyond recognition. Greyback was on his back near Harry’s feet, burnt, but alive. Bellatrix was face down, also alive. Two other Death Eaters were dead, but he didn’t remember who they were. And Avery was nearest Hermione, still alive as he was partially shielded from the damage, but not stirring.
Then he saw movement as someone appeared through the doorway. It was Draco, his wand up. Harry turned slowly to face him.
Draco stood there a moment, his eyes wide, fearful as he surveyed the room. Then he turned his wand, hand shaking, towards Ron and waved it once before it flew out of his grip, soaring towards Harry, who had his teeth bared at this new threat.
“Whoa, Potter!” he said bracingly, looking terrified as a wave of energy pushed him backwards. “Whoa, okay?”
He held his palms out in front of him in surrender.
“I was just releasing his chains. I’m not trying to hurt them.”
When Harry didn’t respond or attack, Draco reached slowly into the pockets of his robes and another wave broke over him in warning. He gritted his teeth against it.
“It’s okay,” he was saying soothingly. “It’s all right, okay?”
He cautiously removed his hand, holding their wands and Harry’s glasses that had been confiscated from them when they were captured.
“Here, all right?”
Holding them up to Harry, Draco stretched out his arm. Then he took a step forward. Harry actually growled a warning, crackling with electricity.
“Okay,” Draco conceded, hurriedly backing up again. “Here, I’ll give them to Weasley then, okay?”
Draco sidled sideways, one hand still up in surrender. His eyes never leaving Harry’s, he held them out to Ron, who snatched them out of his hands. Then he slowly backed towards the door again. Harry watched him retreat while Ron hurriedly stumbled past him to Hermione, stripping his shirt off as he went.
Harry and Draco just stared at each other for what seemed a long time, and then Draco spoke.
“Get them out of here, Potter.”
As if he were waiting for the command, Harry staggered over and grabbed Hermione and Ron by the wrists. Then he flashed away with them in a swirling of flames and smoke.
They appeared the next moment in Ron’s room at the Burrow. Ron and Hermione were huddled together on Ron’s bed where Harry had dropped them, Hermione draped in Ron’s shirt as she clung to his neck, curled against him.
Harry stared at them, tears rolling down his face at the fear he saw in their eyes. They were afraid of him. He wanted to tell them he was sorry, to beg them to forgive him. But then an earsplitting alarm sounded from the breach of security when they had appeared in the room, and he could hear footfalls thundering on the stairs.
The cavalry was finally coming, and he couldn’t be here when they arrived. As soon as the door was flung open, he flinched away again, gone in a flash of flames.

~ . ~

I am not normally a fan of an Author spending a lot of time in their fic speaking directly to the reader like this, but I felt I needed to explain myself for the long delay in posting this chapter. When I originally envisioned this scene between Harry and Hermione, we were on the long wait between book 5 and 6.
I had a lot of problems with the flow of this chapter, with the pacing and then with the damn canon. LOL. For things to continue along the Deathly Hallows timeline, Bellatrix still has to reveal in some way that she holds a Horcrux. Now in my fic, Harry will still have to figure out that it's in her vault, and Harry also needed to disarm Draco for the final scenes in the book to still work. I didn't want Harry to kill Bellatrix here either because I love the scene where Molly kills her. The "Not my daughter, you bitch!" line is one of my favorites, and I can still picture her saying it with the changes in my fic. Maybe even more so if she knows what Bellatrix did to Harry, Ron and Hermione here. So anyway, I really struggled to write this one (Lots of dialogue GRRR) and I'm still not thrilled with it, but thank you for reading it anyway.
Finally, I don't want to write a Super Power Harry fic. I think he can be extraordinarily powerful under extraordinary circumstances, but otherwise, I think he's just a regular guy. I hope I didn't push him too far off the charts here.
G.
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What it comes down to

Chapter 8. Flight of the Phoenix