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A Flame Awakened Chapter 13
🕑 Added 2025-11-03 15:10:23 +0000 UTCChapter 13: Harry
Content Warnings: Vivid nightmare, body horror, St. Mungo's weirdness.
It started as all his dreams had. A flash of green light and maniacal laughter, followed by oppressive darkness that threatened to drag him into Voldemort’s psyche. It seemed his bond with Daphne had only managed to temporarily stop his nightmares. They returned on Christmas night, foretelling doom and ruin. Despite the festivities of the day, it had been a night like any other. Daphne and Padma had decided to spend the night with their respective sisters after spending the entire day with him. Hermione had her nose buried in the ledgers handed over by Narcissa, and Ron was laid up in bed with a bad cold, leaving Harry alone with Susan. Instead of going to the Room of Requirement, the two had retired to his dormitory for a change. Too tired to do anything, Harry had helped his girlfriend undress before he changed into pyjamas and climbed into bed with her.
His dream had started innocuously enough. A cottage by the seaside, Susan singing in the kitchen. He got up from the couch to go to his partner, only to be swallowed by a pit of darkness. A flash of green enveloped his vision, and maniacal laughter that had haunted his dream for years rang in his ears. The house and the warmth were gone. He was now standing on a cliff of black rock overlooking a stormy sea. He raised his hand, extending a pale white finger towards the structure looming through the fog.
His cloak fluttered as ten… fifteen… nearly thirty jets of black smoke shot out from behind him, racing across the choppy waters at incredible speed. He dove off the cliff gracefully, turning into a jet of smoke long before he hit the water. Anticipation grew within him as he flew towards the structure in the distance, a monolith of black stone on an exposed, barren island. Once he had his loyal followers by his side, he would be unstoppable. It was only a matter of time before the world kneeled at his feet.
The carnage had already begun by the time he landed on the island. The prison’s traditional custodians were nowhere to be found, and his followers had easily overcome the protective wards along its walls. Door after door was blasted open, granting freedom to his most fervent followers. Those who were not connected to him were given a choice: bend the knee or perish. Most chose the former. A couple had to be convinced by a personal visit from him. As he strode through the ruined hallways of the prison, man and woman alike fell to their knees in silent reverence. Only one woman dared to be different. Bellatrix… his Bella… she stumbled out of her cell on unsteady feet and sank to her knees in front of him, fervently kissing the hand he held out.
“Master,” she mumbled, her voice hoarse from disuse. “You came for me, master. You came for us!”
“Yes.” His voice was silky, the single syllable humming with power. “I did. Come, we have work to do.”
“Crouch,” Bellatrix spat.
“He is dead. You have been avenged, my dear. But our fight has only begun.” He pressed his wand against his throat and magically altered his voice into a booming roar. “Tear down this symbol of oppression! Burn it down!”
“My lord.”
He turned to face Theodore Nott. His servant had brought a manacled man along with him, dragging the unwilling prisoner across the floor.
“What is it?”
“He refuses to join us.”
“I don’t bow to filth,” the man muttered. The man lunged at him but fell short, and had to resort to hucking spit at his robes.
“YOU-” Bellatrix screeched and rushed forward, only to be stopped by his arm in her path.
“It’s okay, Bella,” he said calmly. He could feel Nagini’s satisfaction in the back of his mind. It was done. The night was an unqualified success. “Let this be a lesson to all those who dare to stand in our way.”
He lazily raised his arm and, pointing his wand at the man, muttered a single word, “Crucio.”
Harry shot upright in bed, flailing around like a drowning man searching for a lifeline. He accidentally pushed Susan off the bed as he pulled his arm free and rubbed his palm furiously over his stinging scar.
“Harry?” Susan called out. “Harry!” she repeated once more when she got no response. She clambered into bed and reached out to her partner, gently and firmly wrapping her arms around his trembling body. “It’s okay. It was just a nightmare,” she guessed. “You’re in bed with me. You’re okay,” she whispered, gently kissing his cheek. Her frown deepened when Harry remained unresponsive to her words. “Let me take a look,” she said, and grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand away from his forehead. The scar did not look any different.
“It hurts,” he choked out.
“Okay. Okay.” Susan took a deep breath. “Let’s get you to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey will know what to do.”
“No… Sirius… warning…”
Susan did not waste a second. She pulled away from him and rolled over to the nightstand on her side of the bed and plucked the large mirror that rested on it.
“Sirius!” she said, all but shouting the man’s name. “You better not be asleep!”
A minute or so later, Susan gently placed the mirror in his lap, bringing him face-to-face with his bemused godfather.
“Hey, kid,” Sirius beamed. “Finally took some time away from Miss Bones to remember your poor old godfather?”
“Azkaban…” Harry gasped. “Torture…”
Sirius’ smile disappeared. “What’s happening, Red?”
Susan gently wrapped her arms around Harry and moved to settle behind him, resting her chin on his shoulder so she could look into the mirror. “I don’t know,” she murmured as she stroked Harry’s hair. “He woke up like this. Maybe he had a nightmare?”
“Harry,” Sirius said, his tone gentle but firm. His frown had deepened. “What did you see?”
“Does it matter?! We need to get him to Madam Pomfrey, but he insisted on talking to you.”
“It does, Red. Harry, what did you see?” Sirius repeated.
“Azkaban. He’s in Azkaban!”
“Voldemort?” Sirius asked. Both men ignored Susan’s shudder. “Are you certain?”
“I saw him. I was him. He was breaking people out. I think he… I killed someone,” Harry said in a horrified whisper.
“What else did you see?” Sirius pressed gently. “Every small detail could be important.”
“It’s just a nightmare-”
“No, it isn’t!” Sirius cut Susan off sharply. He took a deep breath, then continued, “We will explain everything later. Please, let him talk. Time is of the essence.”
“He went to the cell of this crazy-looking woman who seemed to be in love with him while his followers freed the others.”
“That would be Bellatrix,” Sirius sighed. “My delightful cousin. What about the dementors? What did they do? Did they put up a fight?”
“Couldn’t see any of them around.”
“Fuck,” Sirius swore. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, pushing it away from his face. “Harry doesn’t need medical attention, Red. He’s physically fine.”
“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t need medical attention,” Susan replied.
“You need to go to Dumbledore. This is important; the fate of the Wizarding World hinges on Dumbledore knowing about this immediately.”
“My only concern is Harry’s well-being,” Susan said stonily.
“I’m fine,” Harry interjected, interrupting the brewing argument. “Really, I’m fine. It just took me a moment to snap out of it. I’ve not had nightmares for weeks, and this one felt so… real.”
Sirius chuckled.
“What?” the couple said in unison.
“It’s like James and Lily have reincarnated in front of me.”
“My mother-”
“Your mother would have burned down the world to protect your father,” Sirius said softly. “The only person that mattered more to her was you, Harry. Now go. Tell Dumbledore everything you can remember.”
“We don’t know the password to his office,” Harry pointed out.
“Tell the gargoyle you need to talk to the Headmaster about the special guest he’s harbouring. It’ll let you in. Call me first thing in the morning, Harry. I’ll be awake.” Sirius waved his hand in front of the mirror, severing the connection.
“Alright. Come on, let’s go.” Susan clambered off the bed and bent to gather their discarded clothes from the floor. She threw his jeans at him, before catching his shirt between her toes and hopping on one foot as she tried to deposit it on the bed. “Do you want me to get the others?”
Harry shook his head. “Let Daph and Padma enjoy their time with their sisters. No reason to worry Hermione, either. She’s already driving herself crazy with those ledgers.”
“Do you want me to wake Ron?” Susan asked as she pushed her arms through the sleeves of her blouse and haphazardly buttoned it. “His bed is the one to your right, yes?”
“It’s okay. You’re more than enough, love.” Harry jumped off the bed with one leg in his jeans, hopping around as he tried to pull them up to his waist. “You don’t need to come if you don’t feel like it. I can go alone. I’m fine now.”
“Don’t be silly, Harry,” Susan growled, flinging her discarded shirt at him. She shimmied into her skirt, hastily smoothing its ruffled fabric. “Whatever happens, I will always be by your side.”
“Susie, I-”
Susan extended her hand and wriggled her fingers, inviting him to take her hand.
“You’re the best.” Harry took her hand, allowing her to pull him through the curtains around his bed. The dormitory was dark and still, with Neville’s quiet snores filling the silence.
“Don’t tell Daphne you said that,” Susan whispered. She allowed him to take the lead as they exited the room and descended the stairs into a dead Common Room. Hermione was asleep at her desk, her cheek resting on a pile of parchment and her nose smudged with ink. “She’ll kill us both.”
“I’m more afraid of her than I am of Voldemort.”
“Wise man.”
The couple walked through the hole in the wall once the Fat Lady’s portrait had swung outward. They ignored her grumbling about being woken up so late at night and turned right, walking down a dark hallway where the only source of illumination was torches hung from the wall at regular intervals.
“What do we do if we run into someone?” Susan whispered. “We didn’t get your cloak or the map.”
“It’s okay. The office is right down the corridor.” Harry tightened his grip on Susan’s hand. “If it’s someone reasonable like McGonagall, we explain why we’re out so late. If it’s Umbridge or Filch… we make a run for it and deal with the consequences later.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Harry could see her chew on her lip from the corner of his eye.
“You want to ask me something,” Harry guessed.
“I don’t want to pry,” Susan responded immediately.
“It’s fine.” Harry carefully stepped around a frog croaking balefully in the middle of the corridor. Was that Trevor? He made a mental note to tell Neville his pet had escaped again. “I don’t want there to be any secrets between us, love.”
“Why are you and Sirius acting like your nightmare is real? Aren’t you worried Professor Dumbledore will laugh us out of the room?”
“That’s because it is real,” Harry sighed. “I have an inexplicable connection to Voldemort when I’m asleep, Susie. Sometimes it feels like we are the same person.” Harry frowned, the implications of what he’d said quickly settling in. “I don’t think I should sleep in the same bed as you, Daph, or Padma. The three of you can take the Room of Requirement, I’ll sleep in my dorm.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Susie, I just tortured a man to death tonight! What if I harm you or the others?”
“You didn’t do anything. You-Know-Who did.”
“We’re sometimes the same person. This entire year I’ve felt like I’m turning into him.” Harry instinctively reached up to touch his scar with his free hand. “It stopped after the first bonding ceremony, but it’s back now. It’s worse than before,” Harry whispered.
“Harry, I will concede you have a connection with him. That doesn’t make you the same person.” Susan gently rubbed circles on his wrist with her thumb. “We are connected too. Does that mean you are me? No.”
“You don’t appear in my dreams, Susie.” Harry turned to look at her when his assertion was met with silence. He sighed at her raised eyebrows. “Fine, that was incorrect. You do, but those dreams are not real. The ones I have of Voldemort are.”
“You’re mistaken if you believe you’ll get me to sleep anywhere but my bondmate’s bed,” Susan replied stubbornly. “You’ll find Daphne and Padma agree with me on this.”
Harry sighed and decided to drop the matter for now. They had reached the stone gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore’s office and had more pressing issues to tend to.
“We need to see Professor Dumbledore,” Harry said politely. It felt weird talking to an unmoving stone statue, but Harry knew it was very much alive and could respond if it chose to.
“And I want to see Morgana’s left tit, but we don’t always get what we want, Potter. No password, no entry.”
“It’s urgent,” Susan chimed in.
The gargoyle remained unmoved. It stared ahead with unblinking eyes, blatantly ignoring their presence.
“It’s about the well-being of a good friend of his that he’s been harbouring. That good friend has sent us to talk to him,” Harry added.
“Well, why didn’t you say so?” The gargoyle descended into its plinth. The plinth sank into the floor, and the wall behind it retracted, revealing a spiral staircase.
“Do you think Professor Dumbledore wears jammies?” Susan asked as she climbed up the stairs two steps at a time to keep up with Harry’s pace.
“I suppose we’ll find out,” Harry chuckled. He rapped his knuckles against the polished wood of the closed door in front of him. His knock was answered with a quiet “enter”, and he turned the brass handle on the door, pushing it open. Contrary to Susan’s expectations, Dumbledore was not dressed in nightclothes. He was seated behind his desk, wearing robes of deep midnight blue. His desk was devoid of the books and gadgets that were usually present on it. Behind him, Fawkes was asleep on his golden perch, his head tucked under a wing. “Professor Dumbledore,” Harry said, suddenly nervous. The man had avoided him all year. What if he dismissed his experience? Harry had no idea who else to turn to.
“Harry! Miss Bones.” Dumbledore peered at them from the top of his half-moon spectacles. “This is a pleasant surprise. What brings you to my office this late at night?”
“I had a dream, Headmaster.”
“Another one? I thought they had stopped after your successful pursuit of the vivacious Miss Greengrass.”
“I-yes,” Harry muttered with a frown. “They’re back now. How did you know they’d stopped?”
“Sirius keeps me updated,” Dumbledore replied calmly. “Please, take a seat. Would either of you like a lemon sherbet?”
You wouldn’t need to ask him if you just talked to me, Harry thought grumpily. He declined the offered candy. Susan reached out and plucked one from the bowl, unwrapping and popping it into her mouth before she sat down on the chair next to him.
“That is troubling.”
No shit. Harry took a deep breath and set aside his resentment toward the Headmaster. An issue bigger than his bruised ego needed their attention.
“He’s at Azkaban. Voldemort.”
“Are you certain?”
“I saw him and his followers assault the prison. He freed those who joined him and killed those who didn’t. The dementors weren’t around to stop them. Does that mean they’ve joined him? Did he send the dementors that attacked me and Dudley?”
“That is certainly a possibility,” Dumbledore said as he stroked his luxuriant white beard. “He is moving faster than I thought. For all the dementors to already flock to his side…” Dumbledore sighed and got his feet, striding over to the fireplace. He pulled out a pinch of floo powder from a bag on a stand present close by and tossed it into the fire. “Bones Manor, Amelia Bones.” The flames roared and turned green, but instead of stepping into them, Dumbledore kneeled on the carpet and pushed his face into the fireplace.
The old Headmaster emerged from the flame moments later, appearing slightly perturbed.
“Bessy tells me your aunt has not come home tonight.”
“She’s been working late a lot these days. Maybe she decided to spend the night in her office?” Susan suggested.
“Perhaps,” Dumbledore murmured. His frown deepened, but he did not voice whatever was troubling him. The headmaster turned back to the fireplace and tossed some more floo powder into the flames. “Office of the Head of the DMLE. Amelia Bones,” he intoned before kneeling and pushing his head back into the fireplace.
This time, he returned much more quickly. “She is not in her office, Miss Bones.”
“Uh, sorry to interrupt,” Harry said before Susan could speak. “Voldemort was really happy about Nagini doing something. Maybe he sent her off to create a distraction for the Aurors? Susan’s aunt could be away dealing with that.”
“Auntie doesn’t do fieldwork. Not anymore,” Susan said, shaking her head. “Her bodyguards won’t let her.”
“Harry, Susan, I’m going to do something that could be considered extremely illegal. Perhaps it would be best if the two of you leave the room.” Dumbledore warned.
“I’ve never shied away from a spot of rulebreaking, Professor.”
“I’m not leaving until I know my auntie is okay,” Susan added.
“Very well.” Dumbledore walked over to Fawkes’ perch and gently stroked the phoenix’s majestic plumage. He leaned in and whispered to the creature, which, after taking a moment to acclimate to its surroundings, trilled quietly in response. Both disappeared in a flash of brilliant light, leaving behind only a single charred feather that gracefully floated to the floor.
“Do you think she’s okay?” Susan asked quietly.
“I’m sure everything is fine. She’s the most formidable witch we know, Susie.”
Susan abandoned her chair and climbed into Harry’s lap. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in the crook of his neck, silently savouring his warmth. No words were needed.
Harry stared at the portraits of past Headmasters and Headmistresses, forcing himself to study the peculiarities of each one as a way to distract himself from his thoughts. After what felt like an eternity, Dumbledore and Fawkes returned in a similar flash of light. The Headmaster’s expression was grave, but he did not say anything as he returned Fawkes to its perch.
“Professor?” Harry asked. Susan stirred in his arms. She turned on his lap to look at the Headmaster, her expression inquisitive, yet afraid.
“Miss Bones, you will need to accompany me to St. Mungo’s,” Dumbledore said quietly.
“Is auntie…” Susan whispered. Tears welled in her eyes, and she furiously rubbed them away. “Is she-”
“She is alive, and she should be fine. I reached her just in time. She would have been dead by the time someone found her in the morning,” Dumbledore sighed. “She is gravely wounded, Miss Bones. That snake is no normal creature. Its venom is something your aunt will struggle to heal from.”
“He wanted her out of the way before he attacked,” Harry muttered. He tightened his hold around Susan. “When do we leave? Can we see her now?”
“Yes. Miss Bones, are you emotionally prepared for the visit?” Dumbledore asked.
“As long as Harry’s with me,” Susan hiccuped. She trembled in his arms, fidgeting and turning around every so often as if she wanted to bury her face in his chest to drown out the world. “I’m all she has. I want to be with her.”
Harry looked at Dumbledore expectantly, who silently nodded. The Headmaster walked over to Fawkes once more and beckoned the couple over. “Travelling with Fawkes is quite similar to using a portkey. We will be deposited at the entrance of Mungo’s. Harry, make sure you hold Miss Bones securely, then take my hand.”
Harry nodded and tightened his hold on Susan’s waist before reaching out to take the Headmaster’s hand. His eyes instinctively closed as a flash of white light enveloped them. When he reopened them, the three of them were standing on cracked pavement in front of a dilapidated building.
“Did Fawkes make a mistake?”
“No,” Dumbledore said quietly. He slipped his wand out of his sleeve and tapped the door of the building. “Mungo’s is too big to be underground, so it is disguised as an abandoned Muggle building. Not a word to anyone until we get to Madam Bones’ room.”
Harry and Susan followed Dumbledore through the door. Contrary to Harry’s expectations, the room they entered was a well-maintained and busy reception, not too dissimilar to the ones he had encountered in the waiting areas of Muggle hospitals. The patients, however, were anything but mundane. He passed two witches joined at their noses, a man nursing a massive stomach that pulsed and growled as he walked by, and several other mishaps entirely beyond the realm of the ordinary. Nobody paid them any attention, but more than one person recognised Professor Dumbledore. Everyone stepped aside as they approached, allowing them to skip the line and walk up to the receptionist unimpeded.
“Sir!” The middle-aged woman at the desk dropped the cookie in her hand and snapped to attention. “You’re back! Not that there’s a rule against it, is there… is someone else hurt? What can I do for you?” she asked, clearly flustered.
“I have Madam Bones’ niece with me,” Dumbledore answered quietly. “She would like to see her aunt.”
“Of course! Let me see to which ward and room the healers have shifted her.” The woman opened the massive tome in front of her. Harry watched with satisfaction as names appeared, disappeared, and shifted in the cells present on the yellowed parchment of the book. “Ward six, room nine. On the fifth floor,” the woman said, tapping the glowing words ‘Amelia Bones’ written in neat cursive.
“Thank you,” Dumbledore said with a slight bow of his head. He headed to the banks of lifts behind the receptionist’s desk and got into the first empty one he found, waiting for Harry and Susan to join him before he pulled the door closed.
“I saw him do this and didn’t do anything to stop it,” Harry said in a horrified whisper as the reality of the situation finally sank in. “I’m him when I’m asleep… I see him torture and kill… I could sense that snake attack Madam Bones.”
“You are not him, Harry,” Dumbledore said sharply. “You could never be him,” he repeated, his tone softening. “You saved a woman’s life tonight. If not for your dream, we would never have realised Madam Bones had been attacked. There is no way for you to influence Lord Voldemort. What happened was no one’s fault.”
“Where did you find her?” Susan asked, sounding close to tears.
“Outside her office, convulsing and bleeding out. Harry has a connection to Voldemort, Miss Bones, but do not for a second believe that Harry is to blame for this attack. This was done to sow chaos in the Ministry at a time it can least afford it.”
“I know.” Susan squeezed his hand. “I hate that you have these dreams, but-”
“I’m glad I had this one too,” Harry responded with a small smile. “It’s okay to be thankful, Susie. That doesn’t make you a bad person,” he said as the lift shuddered to a halt.
The trio exited into a quiet hallway. They turned left and passed wards four and five without incident. Dumbledore drew a few curious glances from the people sitting on the benches outside the wards, but no one stopped them until they reached ward six.
“This is a high-security ward,” the orderly sitting on the chair outside the ward said without looking up from his pulp novel. “No entry.”
“I’m Albus Dumbledore, and I think you’ll find my name on the approved visitor’s list. Harry and Susan are students under my care, and we have come to visit Susan’s aunt,” Dumbledore said politely.
“Al- Oh! Of course, sir,” the orderly stammered, jumping to his feet. “She’s in Room Nine.”
“Thank you,” Dumbledore said and swept past the orderly into the ward. He walked past the shut doors until he reached the last one, pausing in front of it. He raised his hand and rapped his knuckles against the polished wood of the door, waiting for permission before entering the room.
Harry and Susan followed. Harry cast a concerned glance at his girlfriend, but she marched into the room with a resolute expression on her face. She let go of his hand at the sight of her aunt and ran to her side, falling to her knees next to her bed.
“Auntie?” she whispered, her voice cracking.
“I’m fine, little one,” Amelia answered, her voice barely audible. She was a pale imitation of her former self, lying in bed propped up on pillows, a blue sheet covering her lower half. A green hospital gown clung to her frame, stained with two rapidly spreading red spots on her chest. “Thank you… Albus.”
“There will be time for conversation later, Madam Bones,” Dumbledore said gravely. “The bleeding has not stopped?”
The healer at the foot of Madam Bones’ bed threw up her hands in frustration. “Nothing we do works. At this point, the only thing I can do is feed her blood-replenishing potions until we figure out a solution.”
Susan bit back a sob.
“Harry, perhaps you could keep Miss Bones company outside while I converse with Healer Jones? I’m sure between the two of us, we can come up with a more permanent solution.”
“There’s a coffee cart at the other end of the corridor. Tea always helps me get through difficult times,” the healer added kindly.
Harry nodded and walked over to Susan. He gently grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet.
“But-”
“It’ll be okay, Susie,” Harry whispered. He looked to Dumbledore and the Healer for confirmation, but only received sad smiles in return. “Come on. Let’s get out of their way so they can work.”
“Okay,” she sobbed.
Harry led Susan out of the room and into the hallway, taking her to the first empty bench he found. He sat down and pulled her into his lap. She complied wordlessly, turning to bury her face in his chest and wrapping her arms around his neck. He frowned at the quiet sobs wracking her body. Her tears drenched his shirt. He wanted to reach out and comfort her, but everything he could say felt hollow.
“Sorry,” she whispered, after a long, uncomfortable silence.
“You have nothing to apologise for, Susie,” Harry whispered. He kissed her head. “I’m so sorry.”
“What for?”
“I don’t know,” Harry admitted. He was sorry for so many things, and despite Dumbledore’s reassurances, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was to blame for everything that had happened.
“You’re being a silly billy,” Susan laughed tearfully. “You saved Auntie. You should be proud of being so brave. I don’t think I could handle being in that man’s mind so often.”
“Before I met Daphne, Padma, and you, I was… I felt like I was going crazy. I would barely sleep, I’d be angry all the time, I found myself hating everyone… You saved me, too,” Harry whispered.
“Do you think she’ll be okay?” Susan asked quietly. “She looked so weak. If they wanted to attack the Bones family, I wish it had been me, not her.”
“Don’t say that,” Harry muttered as panic tightened around his heart. He felt an incorporeal hand around his windpipe, constricting his ability to breathe. “Don’t ever say that.”
“She’s all I have. I don’t… What if something happens to her?”
“She will be fine. She’s got the best Healers at Mungo’s and Dumbledore working to cure her.” Harry paused. “But… You know that’s not true, right? You have me, Susie. You have Daphne and Padma. I haven’t known you as long as Madam Bones, but I promise you, I love you just as much as she does.”
Susan looked up at Harry through the curtain of red curls obscuring her face, her big green eyes shining beneath them.
“In a very different way,” Harry corrected himself hastily. “But you’re not alone. You’ll never be alone.”
“You love me?”
“One could say that,” Harry answered with a small smile. “Now who’s being a silly billy? I’m bonded to you, Susie.” Harry took her hand and placed it on his chest, right over his heart. “This is yours.”
“A part of it,” Susan murmured, resting her head on his shoulder.
“Jealous, are we?” Harry teased, trying to distract her from the condition of her aunt. He doubted she was truly jealous. The girl didn’t have a mean bone in her body.
“Nope. It’s big enough for all of us,” Susan mumbled. She leaned closer and kissed his neck. “Besides, I got the best part. Don’t tell the others.”
“My lips are sealed. Do you want some tea?”
“No. I just want you to hold me.”
Harry nodded and wrapped his arms around her. As they settled into a comfortable silence while waiting for Dumbledore to emerge, Harry mulled over everything that had happened. Lucius Malfoy’s urgency for a wedding between his stupid son and Susan suddenly made much more sense. The attack on Madam Bones had been planned a long time ago, and he doubted they’d ever thought she’d survive. He was certain Malfoy had planned to use the Bones name to cement his control over the Ministry amid the chaos that would surely follow the prison breakout and attempted assassination. While he could do nothing about Voldemort for now, he’d make sure Draco Malfoy regretted the day he was born the next time he saw him.
Notes:
I... have no idea what to put in here. This was a fun chapter to write, especially since I got to explore Harry and Susan's relationship by writing about their vulnerabilities. Amelia as the person who was attacked also felt natural to me, especially if the timing coincided with the prison break. Funky mind stuff aside, I do think this is good character growth for Harry, because I feel he's at his most assertive and powerful when people he loves are in danger and he's starting to recognize that. What'd you think of the chapter?
Comments
R. Collins
Valid criticism! I might have gone a bit overboard, but I do think this is one of Harry's flaws. He tries to think everything is his fault (as a result of his upbringing with the Dursleys) and that sometimes means he's unintentionally self-centered. He doesn't want to make it about himself, but at the same time, he's been raised to believe that everything that goes wrong is his fault. It's hard to shake that mentality. He's not intentionally making things about himself or looking for pity. It's more a function of his guilt. He feels people are getting hurt because of him. At the same time, I do understand why that sequence feels heavy handed, and I appreciate you pointing that out cause I can address the flaw in a more subtle way in the future!
Cqys
I mostly liked it. The vulnerability made most sense but it was a very tad bit heavy handed. I see what you were doing but here's what it really read like. Amelia is lying there dying on the bed essentially, his bond mates main person, and he still found a way to make it about himself. The "I did this" line was kind of.... Too much. It was perfectly understandable to have him make that comment about sleeping in the same bed. Who knows what you'll do in the middle of a nightmare. I can at least follow that logic. The I did this part was just over the top. He only feels like he's the same person in a dream and it's one thing to make a comment about it right upon waking up. A few hours later though? Eh... I found that hard to stomach as a reasonable concern of his to make. Small tick but you write well enough where those sequences really stick out as weird.
Brody Johnson
Love it
