SS Chapter 20: Hello Again

XX. Hello Again

“Where were you yesterday?”

Harry looked up. Thin and curvy, the alluring form of Lavender Brown stood before him. The black-haired boy allowed his eyes to roam across her long brown hair and down to her thick, pouting lips. She seemed rather offput today.

“Exploring,” said Harry simply. His fingers continued to comb through Hedwig’s feathers, “Should I have invited you?”

He watched with satisfaction as the girl slowly deflated, shaking her head.

“No. Just worried.”

It was late now. Much of Harry’s day had been wasted away here in the Owlery, Hedwig placed neatly in his lap just as she was now. It was the smart thing to do - at least in Harry’s opinion, anyway.

A lot less suspicious than only being missing during the Azkaban break in -

Crunch.

Harry’s head turned. Lavender glared at the twigs beneath her. They cracked as she lowered herself to the floor, sitting herself beside him.

“It’s not poisonous, you know,” Harry grinned, a brow raised. Lavender was glaring at the twigs and dirt as though they had personally affronted her, “Never hurts to get your hands dirty every now and then.”

I should know.

Lavender huffed.

“I suppose so,” she paused for a moment before inspecting him carefully, “Are you alright? Everyone’s worried about you.”

“Everyone?” Harry repeated, bemused, “Why’s that?”

“Well, Parvati says you’ve been spending a lot of time alone -”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh.

“Lav, I always spend a healthy amount of time by myself.”

“I know, but you’ve got the Triwizard Tournament to worry about, haven’t you?” she whispered, “You - you need as much help as you can get!”

A roguish smile made its way onto Harry’s face, one he’d seen Sirius wear a handful of times before.

“I really don’t,” he assured her, “If anything, I’m more worried about the Yule Ball.”

He eyed the brown-haired girl in the corner of his eyes, paying careful attention to the way her cheeks were stained red.

Her and Parvati both.

“It must be very stressful for you, being a champion. You’ll have to kick it off,” she noted, “But I’m really looking forward to it. It’s all anyone’s been talking about.”

Harry frowned.

“Really? I didn’t know.”

The brown-haired girl scoffed.

“Of course you didn’t. You’re hardly around these days.”

“That’s not fair,” Harry said softly, “I spend time with people one-on-one these days, that’s all.”

“That doesn’t sound very smart to me,” Lavender pouted, “If you’re busy, you should maximize your time, shouldn’t you?”

Harry shrugged.

It’s a lot harder to play someone when there’s a half dozen witnesses about.

“I suppose so,” he settled for instead, “I’ll have to do that more, once the Yule Ball is out of the way.”

Lavender nodded slowly.

“Well, I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” she told him slowly, “But you seem alright. You certainly look better.”

Harry’s brows raised.

“Is that so?”

The girl nodded, a dainty hand masking her lips as she giggled.

“You should hear the way some of the older girls talk about you,” she laughed, “I’ve heard even the Slytherins can’t take their eyes off you.”

Harry blinked.

Was the symmetry ritual really that strong?

“How long has this been a thing?” Harry asked, pulling a curious smile forth. Lavender rolled her eyes.

“Oh, a while,” Lavender grinned, “But you’re Harry Potter, so that was always going to be a thing. People started being serious about it last year, but things have gotten a little crazy since fourth year started -”

“I’ve got my own fan club, huh?” Harry sorted.

“You don’t even know the half of it,” Lavender whispered. She sounded deathly serious.

“Huh.”

I should probably take advantage of that . . .

“If you want, I could tell you more about your many admirers,” the brown-haired girl offered, leaning closer. She spoke in dulcet tones, “Or would you rather sit and sulk with your owl?”

Harry laughed.

“The latter, I think,” he grinned, “I haven’t spent much time with Hedwig lately.”

Lavender pouted.

“Suit yourself,” she sighed, rising to her feet, “Let me know if you feel like getting your hair braided. It’s getting long again.”

She straightened up, the hem of her skirt fluttering just before Harry’s face. The boy stared up at her, smiling.

“Careful Lavender,” he whispered softly. He had stolen Tom Riddle’s smile yet again, “People might think you have a thing for me.”

The girl smiled.

“Who knows? They might be right.”

And with that, she made her way to the door, her hips swaying all the while. Harry listened as the door slid shut behind her.

“It’s a little alarming how they act, isn’t it, Hed?” he whispered, pulling his beloved owl closer, “Hormones must be a hell of a drug.”

Thank Merlin for Occlumency.

“Not that I’ve been practicing,” Harry sighed, frowning, “But there’s hardly a point. I don’t think I’ve ever found anything I’m so bad at.”

The fact that I can actually clear my mind at all is impressive enough -

Bark!

“What?”

Hedwig shifted from where she sat within his lap, gently prodding his chest with her beak.

“Oh, alright . . .”

He lazily checked the watch Uncle Vernon had once begrudgingly gifted him before throwing up a number of wards. Once satisfied, he removed a familiar sheet of parchment from within his robes.

“I really don’t see the importance in this,” Harry frowned, re-examining the Azkaban blueprints, “They can’t have changed the layout - that’d be ridiculous. It’s just added security that I need to worry about . . .”

And I’ve already taken care of that, haven’t I?

His gaze fell to his palms. They looked the same - of course they did - but something was . . . different. Harry had felt it all day, starting from the very moment he’d woken up on the floor of Slytherin’s study. He held his fingers out, flexing them curiously.

Liquid-like.

They seemed to flow through the air, like a particularly streamlined muggle jet or perhaps the fastest bird. 

“And I’m not even trying, Hed,” Harry whispered, “I’ve no idea how far I can push this.”

All because I was lucky enough to find a special book . . .

Harry frowned at the thought. There were many sacrifices, of course - murder, nearly a third of his blood, and various other ingredients that would’ve cost a fortune -

Except they didn’t. I just stole them from Snape’s storage.

“The runic work wasn’t easy,” Harry assured himself aloud, “I doubt there’s another student in the school who could pull it off . . .”

But still . . . you’re just lucky.

“It makes me think of muggles, really,” he frowned, his lips drooping slightly. His fingers curved through Hedwig’s icy plumage, “So many of their problems could be solved so easily. But we’re the lucky ones, aren’t we?”

You’re not special. Just lucky.

Harry shook his head.

“I should probably talk to Sirius about Bones,” he whispered eventually, “He used to be an Auror, he can probably help at least a little with the whole memory blackmail debacle.”

Not that he has a wonderful track record of proving his innocence.

Harry sighed.

“And that leaves the stone.”

The stone. The object of myth, the resurrector, perhaps one of the most valuable artifacts in existence -

“It’s not really of use to me,” Harry noted truthfully, “Unless I want to see Salazar again, or my -”

His lips thinned.

“My parents,” he finished carefully, “Truthfully, I can live without the stone.”

But someone took it from me. And that can’t be allowed.

“It’s possible I’ve been looking at it from the wrong angle,” Harry admitted, “Dumbledore I can understand, but Mafloy’s theory with Delacour is a waste of time. She’s not cut out for it, don’t you think?”

Bark!

Harry laughed, pulling Hedwig closer.

“Aside from her, the only people I could really think of would be Tom and Madam Bones,” Harry thought aloud, “The former obviously makes sense, but he hasn’t really got the means to do it at the moment. And Bones . . .”

Harry paused. He almost felt his heart stop.

Maybe she knows. The whole reason I went to Azkaban to begin with was to chase the stone.

“I really need to go back, Hed,” Harry whispered, “I can’t let her . . . I won’t . . .”

A growl escaped him. Harry felt his palms ball into fists.

It’ll take more than recovering that memory to get to her.

“I hope you’ve missed me Susan,” Harry whispered to himself, closing his eyes, “Because you’ll be seeing a lot of me soon enough.”

And you can blame your worthless aunt for that.

(-{- S S -}-)

Tom carefully inspected the pages that sat before him. To his great frustration, their contents were far beyond anything he could yet understand.

Pathetic.

Jaw clenched, he stared at the left page. Countless runes littered it. Tom stared at them for a long moment until the runes hastily begun floating from the page -

“Having a hard time for once, are you?”

Tom looked up. A familiar violet-eyed witch stepped towards his little alcove in the corner of the library. Her eyes were latched not upon the book, but rather his pale, perfect features.

“No,” Tom dismissed irritably. He instinctively pulled the book closer, “It’s not difficult. I simply haven’t read the prerequisites.”

Cassiopeia stared at him, bemused.

“Prerequisites?” she sounded intrigued, “And what, exactly, would you consider to be a prerequisite for ‘Secrets of the Darkest Art?’”

Tom frowned.

Magick Moste Evile, probably. Not that it proved particularly useful.

“Nothing you should concern yourself with,” he answered instead. He lazily clasped the corner of the page, perusing its contents for a third time:

‘In truth, the nature of man is to be temporary. To achieve immortality is to forego one’s ties to humanity, and as such, no man shall ever live eternally. Only their consciousness may remain, though the process of perverting it into something timeless will likely leave its owner wondering if any part of them truly lives at all.’

It sounded like a poem to Tom, one of those aimless little puzzles he’d been made to read as a young child back in the orphanage. Like those, Tom found this passage to be particularly frustrating.

“Lose myself?” he mused aloud, “No matter . . . I’d still be alive -”

“Alive?” Cassiopeia frowned, “What exactly are you reading, Tom?”

The boy paused.

“Again,” he said simply, now closing the book, “Nothing that concerns you.”

“Right,” Cassiopeia eyed him speculatively, “Well, Tom, you’ll have to forgive me for speaking, but I find your newfound interest in death rather concerning.”

The air that pressed against his pale skin now felt cold. Tom’s jaw clenched.

“Newfound?” he repeated thoughtfully, “The possibility of death has lingered in the back of my mind for some time now.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

But Tom simply shook his head.

“No,” he said, his voice firm, “It’s hardly something you’d understand.”

You haven’t triumphed as I have. Fate did not cut you from the same cloth.

He watched as the violet-eyed girl hastily pulled out a chair opposite him, lowering herself into its rigid confines. Her eyes were narrowed into thin slits.

“Why is that, Tom?” she inquired somewhat unkindly, “Because I was raised in a castle whilst you wallowed away in your muggle orphanage?”

A poisonous heat flickered within his chest. Though Cassiopia showed no regret, the slight flickering of her eyes made it clear she knew she’d overstepped her bounds.

But she won’t apologize. Why would she? Her foolish family raised her to believe she would never need to. And for no other reason than her blood . . .

Tom felt himself lean closer, his eyes fixated upon Cassiopeia Black in an almost longing manner.

“Because I know what it’s like to be nothing,” Tom whispered, “Because I know what it’s like to live every day thinking it’ll be your last -”

“And I don’t?” Cassiopeia glared, “You think my family, of all people, aren’t being pressured into fighting?”

“I’m sure they are,” Tom conceded, “But you have money. You have food. You have power. Tell me, Cassiopeia - what will the orphanage do when they run out of what little food they’ve been granted? How long will it take before their luck finally runs out, and a bomb doesn’t miss?”

“So you’re scared of death,” the girl whispered curiously, “That’s all it is.”

“No,” Tom corrected with a frown, “I know what it’s like to be nothing, Cass. I’m not going back. Not now, not ever.”

Something flickered across the girl’s features as the dregs of his sentence left his lips.

“You think you’re something, Tom?” she asked, her lips curving slightly, “Whatever makes you think that?”

Tom laughed.

You’ll have to do much better than that.

“You forget, Cass,” he whispered, his voice smooth yet soft, “I’m smarter than you are. Much smarter, and much stronger, too.”

He sighed, leaning back into his seat.

“You can help me, you know,” Tom told her, smiling, “Let’s see . . . I’m unnaturally handsome, aren’t I?”

“I don’t care for your looks,” Black snapped, “But if you’re asking for help, have you considered vain?”

Tom laughed, waving her off.

“No, I haven’t,” he smiled, running a thin finger along his chiseled features, “These mean nothing to me, you know. They’re only useful in how they influence others.”

Tom let his finger trail down to the base of his jaw before pulling it away, thinking.

“But, I think most importantly of all, I’m innocuous,” he said simply. The look of irritation across Cassiopeia’s face turned to intrigue, “There is no one who dislikes me, Cass. Not even the staunchest purebloods in Europe.”

“Perhaps,” she frowned, “But you’re not one of them. Not in their eyes.”

“Good,” Tom whispered, “They’re right.”

He leaned closer.

“I am so much more than any of them - any of you - could ever hope to be,” Tom told her. Cassiopeia glared, “The sooner this is understood, the better.”

“You truly expect me to believe you’ve come to terms with your muggle heritage?” Black asked, sounding unimpressed. Tom slowly shook his head.

“Not at all,” he frowned, mulling over his words, “To be honest, my blood means nothing to me. The blood of Slytherin makes up for any so-called impurities my muggle ancestors might have made.”

“But?”

“But,” Tom frowned, “I was left behind in the muggle world. That was a mistake.”

To some extent, anyway. It still made me who I am.

“Was it?” the girl’s curious words pressed against his ears, “And how would you solve it?”

“I’m not absolutely sure,” admitted Tom slowly, “But I’ll admit, the idea of a complete separation between worlds does allure me.”

Cassieopia blinked in surprise.

“That’s not possible, Tom.”

“Isn’t it?” Tom grinned, “Anything’s possible if you want it enough -”

“Four-eyes! Four-eyes!”

Harry blinked. Tom and Cassieopia faded away at once, replaced by the dreary outlines of the Hogwarts Owlery. 

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

Fighting the urge to rub his eyes, Harry looked around. A particularly small adder sat coiled by his feet, its miniscule head bobbing up and down as its tongue flickered. Annoyance spasmed through Harry’s chest.

“You’d better have a good reason for waking me,” Harry snapped, “And that’s ignoring your stupid nickname.”

The snake shook excitably.

“The blonde one is looking for you!” it hissed, “But he is doing a bad job.”

“Oh?”

“Oh,” the snake repeated curiously. It shook its head, “He must not want to find you.”

An amused smirk made its way onto Harry’s face.

“Is that so?” he asked, glancing out the window. The night sky stretched across the Forbidden Forest, “Where is he now?”

“At the crying girl’s bathroom. He was leaving, though.”

Harry grinned, rushing to his feet.

Time to catch a runner.

Granting the snake a curt nod, Harry practically skipped out of the Owlery and down the circular steps. His thoughts jumped from one to the next; most of them centered around a particular fortress he’d penetrated just once before.

“More security,” Harry whispered to himself as he reached the second floor landing, “That’s not half bad. It was too easy last time, anyway.”

I wonder if I can handle real Aurors.

‘Real’, of course, was rather generous of him. Harry had heard bits and pieces of how the Aurors were trained - mostly through Susan - and their current regime was nothing compared to the training of the past.

They’re made better during wars. What a shock.

The battered overhead sign of the girl’s lavatory stuck out from the left-hand side. Harry smiled, watching as a blonde-haired figure quietly made their way down the corridor and toward its exit.

“Now where are you going?”

The figure froze. Harry’s lips curled upward.

“I’m - this is a terrible idea,” Malfoy’s voice was quiet, just barely permeating the hall. He hastily turned around, “You didn’t even need me last time.”

“There’s more security this time,” Harry yawned.

Draco paled.

“And what, you want me to fight them?”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh.

“You? Fuck no!” he snorted, “No, I need you to Obliviate people while I’m fighting. There’s not going to be much time before they call in reinforcements. I can’t do this alone.”

Besides, it’ll be good blackmail material. And a chance for you to prove your loyalty, I suppose.

He watched thoughtfully as Draco’s jaw clenched. Several moments passed before Draco finally spoke.

“How are we getting there?” he asked morosely. Harry laughed.

“Now that’s the spirit!” he grinned, clapping Malfoy’s back. The boy winced, “You still have the Nimbus 2001?”

“No. I’ve got a Firebolt now.”

“Even better,” Harry smiled, “Get a move on. We’ve lots to do . . .”

(-{- S S -}-)

Lighting churned overhead. Harry squawked cheerfully, spreading his wings further to ride the wind.

“It’s right there,” a voice moaned from beside him, “Can’t we just land?”

Squawk!

Sliding his wings shut, Harry fell from the sky, leisurely curving his feathered form through the prison opening -

What the -

Harry came to a sudden stop, squawking furiously. He hurriedly twisted back into his human form - or, at least, a human form.

“Snape’s going to know you nicked an Aging Potion from him,” Malfoy hissed, “And besides, a nineteen-year old you looks too much like Riddle -”

“Don’t move, Blondie,” Harry interrupted, spitting into the darkness, “There are wards in front of us. Very, very, violent wards.”

A loud sputtering emanated from a vacuum of magic on Harry’s left.

“There what?” Draco snapped, “Potter, I swear -”

“Shut up,” Harry hissed, turning back to the wards, “I need to focus.”

He held out his hands, allowing the magic to wash over him. His heart sank as a horrible thought reached his mind, and for a moment, Harry feared it was all over -

No. They were clever, but it isn’t enough.

“It’s a circular line,” Harry whispered, “Like a fence.”

“I don’t give a fuck what it is -”

“It won’t be able to detect us once we’re through it,” Harry deadpanned, “It just detects its borders. Smart, really.”

Requires a lot less magic. No wonder I could feel this ward - it’s absurdly potent.

“Yes, real clever,” Draco snapped, “I imagine they’ve got anti-Apparition wards?”

“Obviously. They’re practically built into the foundations.”

“Perfect,” the cloak blurred, revealing Draco’s feet. Harry watched as the boy turned around, his Firebolt spinning between his ankles, “Well, we can just head back then -”

Harry reached for the cloak, pulling an irritable Malfoy towards him.

“We’re in luck, actually,” Harry whispered, slipping beneath the cloak. Draco shifted uncomfortably to make room for him, “This cloak happens to be the only artifact that can get us through undetected.”

He eyed Draco’s reaction, grinning as the blonde boy groaned.

“‘We’re in luck,’” Malfoy repeated glumly, “I’m going to kill myself.”

“Give it a few hours. We need to Obliviate about half the prison first.”

“I hate you.”

“I don’t care,” Harry yawned, “Oh, and don’t be scared if an alarm goes off when we go through.”

“WHAT?”

“I told you, whoever made these wards was pretty clever,” Harry frowned. He reached a hand out through the cloak, letting the magic wash over him again, “The wards register magical vacuums, too. Makes sense - it’d have to mean someone’s tampering with the wards.”

“So they’ll know we’re here?”

“Mhmm,” Harry nodded, “But they won’t know it’s us. No big deal.”

“Yes, it is,” Malfoy hissed furiously. His eyes had narrowed into angry slits, “I’m not doing this, there’s no reason to do this -”

Harry rolled his eyes.

“Isn’t there, Draco?”

“Your vow doesn’t include this -”

“I’m not talking about that fucking vow,” Harry snapped. He grinned, leaning closer, “Who’s going to protect you when Tom’s back?”

Draco stilled. Harry sighed as a wave of satisfaction washed over him.

“Thought about that, have you?” he laughed, “You must know it won’t be Dumbledore. So if you want out . . . you need me.”

Draco Malfoy’s jaw clenched.

“What good are you if you end up worse than Riddle,” he whispered, “Wouldn’t need you then.”

Harry’s smile fell.

“Right,” he said blankly, “We’re going in. Either walk with me on your own violation or do so under the Imperius Curse.”

With that, he strode forward, Draco following in his wake. The thin, potent layer of magic slowly washed over them.

Nothing.

“I - are we good?”

“No,” Harry whispered, “They know we’re here. They just don’t want us to know.”

At least they’re taking security more seriously.

Harry glared.

“Or, at least, Auntie Bones is . . .”

Sighing, he pulled his faux-glasses from his face, tucking them into the pocket of his robes.

“Take the cloak,” he said simply, “Get to work.”

“Right. You’d best make sure no curses come flying my way -”

“And you’d better make sure my cloak’s in good condition,” Harry interrupted, “If I find so much as a speck of dirt -”

BANG!

“CHECK THE COURTYARD!” a loud voice boomed, “THEY’RE STILL HERE!”

They?

Harry caught one last look of horror on Draco’s before slipping under the cloak and out into the open. Piles of fog loomed over the gloomy courtyard, which was filled with little more than sparse weeds and jagged cobbled floors. On the far side, four figures loomed in the distance.

“Attollereos,” Harry whispered, wincing as his cheekbones shifted. He double-checked that his glasses were no longer on his face before carefully shifting his hair to hide his trademark scar. 

I’d really rather not be caught.

He eyed the Aurors as they approached from the far side, their wands now drawn. Harry’s heart lurched as a dark-skinned man and a pink-haired witch loomed into view.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Harry whispered. He paused at the sound of his own voice, “Volubilis.”

Faint sparks fell from the end of his wand, and Harry felt his throat burn slightly.

“DROP YOUR WAND AND PUT YOUR HANDS UP!” Kingsley Shacklebolt boomed, his voice ringing through the courtyard, “THIS IS YOUR ONLY CHANCE TO RESOLVE THIS PEACEFULLY!”

A thin-lipped smile etched itself across Harry’s face.

“Peacefully,” he repeated, twirling his wand as he stepped into the prison courtyard, “Now why would I want that?”

The Aurors’ features were clear to see now. Two of them were people Harry had never seen - an older witch with frayed white hair and a surly man with a broken nose. There was no mistaking the other two, though.

“It’s for your own safety,” Tonks frowned, “You look fresh out of school. You’ve still got a lot of life left to live.”

Harry nodded along thoughtfully, flexing his wrist. A rush of excitement flickered beneath his pale skin.

“I am living,” whispered Harry eagerly, “Doesn’t this make you feel so . . . alive?”

He curved his wand through the air, pointing it lazily in the direction of the Aurors. Sparks flared from wands of their own.

“There are four of us, boy,” barked the surly man, “You haven’t a chance.”

Harry snorted.

“Perhaps,” he conceded, “I suppose there’s only one way to find out -”

“Stupefy!”

Four jets of red light spun towards them. Harry stared. It was as though they were moving in slow motion.

Pathetic.

He slipped between a narrow gap in the spells, brandishing his wand across his chest.

Osassula. Morsus. Diruo. Vitreus. Percutiens -

A half dozen spells flew at the Aurors in less than a second. Harry watched, grinning with satisfaction, as the Aurors barricaded behind Kingsley’s hastily conjured shield. Liquid life pumped in his veins, coursing gleefully within his blood.

“Fuck,” Harry whispered, “Holy fuck -”

They can’t touch me. No one can.

Kingsley’s shimmering barrier faded away. The four Aurors eyed Harry with newfound respect.

“You’re a quick one,” Shaklebolt muttered.

“I’m barely trying,” Harry admitted eagerly. He couldn’t quite manage to hide the excitement that lined his voice.

Kingsley frowned.

“Ritualistic Magics have long been banned within the British Isles,” he said, “Your usage of them will be added to your charges.”

Funny.

“No, no, I don’t think it will,” Harry said slowly. He paced back and forth, rapidly flexing his fingers, “You know, I really get why Voldemort did this.”

It hardly matters how strong they are if I can hit them first.

Tonks’s grasp on her wand tightened.

“You’ve undergone the same rituals as You-Know-Who?” she asked, her voice faint. Harry grinned at her.

“I did imply that, didn’t I?” he laughed, “Why, does that scare you?”

Tonks said nothing. A spasm of worry flickered across her features. Harry smiled.

“Good. It should.”

Bang!

Harry’s wand had arced through the air long before Tonsks’ lips could form the foundations of a word. He watched with intrigue as the skilled Auror was sent tumbling through the air, only to be caught by a careful wave of Kinglsey’s wand.

“You’re all Aurors?” Harry frowned knowingly, “I thought you were meant to be the best?”

Kingsley glared at him.

“Impedimenta!”

Two blasts of magic flew towards Harry, one each from Kingsley and the other man. They were fast - faster than the magic of any normal man had a right to be.

“Protego,” Harry whispered, waiting for the spells to reach his shield. They did so with a loud gong, “I mean, this almost feels unfair -”

“BOMBARDA!”

Harry’s shield was torn to shreds, the boy just barely ducking out of the way in time.

“Does it?” Kingsley snarled. Blood trailed from his nose down to his lips, “Our magic is still stronger. Seems like your rituals haven’t done enough.”

Harry’s jaw clenched.

“I’m hardly done growing,” he snarled. Kingsley laughed.

“Hardly?” he repeated, “You’re out of school. Your growing years are all spent.”

Spent?

Ego whispered in the back of Harry’s mind. He fought furiously to keep it at bay.

You’ve nothing to prove. Let them be wrong.

Still, the Ego within refused to be fully ignored. Harry stared at Kinglsey, his eyes glowing faintly.

“Bombarda,” Harry jabbed his wand at the floor, swiping at the jagged debris that spun through the air, “You’re mine -”

You think you know power?

His magic curved the broken stones, shaping them into a towering serpent. Harry laughed heartily as it threw its gaping maw in the air, letting out a guttural hiss.

“Is that enough for you?” he pouted, watching as the Aurors’ eyes widened with alarm, “Or should I do more?”

The four Aurors loomed before him. They were a rather sad sight, in Harry’s opinion. He watched as the white-haired witch lay on the floor, tending to Tonks whilst the two men strayed closer. An annoying hint of determination lingered in their eyes.

I think more.

Harry stabbed his wand at the snake, which burst into flames. The eagerness in his chest continued to mount.

“Hurt them,” Harry whispered in Parseltongue, “But don’t kill. Nothing permanent.”

The Aurors opposite him slowly backed into a corner. Harry laughed.

“See if you can match a fraction of me,” he grinned, “Au revoir . . .”

And he turned around, stepping out of the courtyard and back into the prisoners left wing. A number of packed cells awaited him, each containing an unconscious prisoner.

Huh. I don’t have to worry about them seeing me again.

“He actually did something smart,” Harry whispered, “I didn’t think that was possible . . .”

An angry voice could be heard down the end of the hall. Harry leisurely made his way towards it, practically skipping -

“Don’t you dare!” a familiar voice screeched. A long, bony arm swiped through the bars of a cell, clawing at something unseen, “My memories are mine, you hear? Mine!”

Harry’s heartbeat quickened, a smile curving along his features.

“Forgive him,” he yawned as he made his way down the hall, “I forgot to tell him to leave you be.”

He came to a stop just outside Bellatrix Lestrange’s cell. The woman was just as he remembered: pale and gaunt, beautiful yet frail. Her heavily-lidded eyes matched her curly black hair, which hung far past her shoulders. The woman stared at him curiously, her violet eyes glistening.

“I don’t know you.”

“I took your advice,” Harry smiled easily, “You’re the one who told me to wear a disguise.”

A touch of fire sparked in Lestrange’s eyes.

“You,” she whispered fondly, “You! I’ve been waiting for you, you’ve no idea what they did -”

“What, that they took the memory of me coming here last time off one of the witches nearby?” Harry suggested. Bellatrix squinted at him.

“So you know.”

“I do,” Harry agreed, “Amelia Bones already threatened me with it. She wants me to be her lapdog.”

He watched as Bellatrix masked her features, her gaze betraying nothing more than curiosity.

“And will you?”

Harry snorted.

“No,” he grinned, “But she can think that for a time. It means little to me.”

His words struck true. Bellatrix nodded approvingly, her yellowed teeth visible as she smiled.

“Duck your head,” she murmured, “It hardly matters, so long as you win in the end.”

Harry nodded.

“That’s why I came, funnily enough,” he added thoughtfully, “There’s a reason I came here last time. I wanted something. I don’t want her to know that.”

“That’s why your pet was Obliviating everyone,” Bellatrix frowned, “But why me -”

“He didn’t know better,” Harry yawned, “Which reminds me - he should finish Obliviating the others.”

He spoke pointedly at the vacuum hovering to his right. Draco grunted faintly before stepping away.

“As I was saying,” Harry continued, “I just told him to remove the memory of my last visit from everyone here.”

“Good,” the witch whispered, “That’ll go far. Bones only managed to take a memory from one.”

Harry paused.

“Only one?”

“Oh, yes, only one,” Bellatrix grinned, “I threatened the others. Told them what I’d do if they gave theirs up. No one else was stupid enough.”

Harry frowned. His mind was beginning to whirl.

“But - I don’t understand,” he whispered, “Why didn’t the Aurors just use Legilimency? They could’ve ripped the memory out of your minds -”

His words were cut off by Bellatrix’s laughter. The woman eyed him with want, her voice like nails on a chalkboard. 

“Weak times breed weaker men,” she hissed, “You think any of those worthless Aurors are capable of that?”

Harry frowned.

“I am,” he murmured, “I’m not even halfway through Hogwarts yet.”

Potency built in Bellatrix’s gaze. She slowly stretched towards the edge of her cell, pressing herself against the bars.

“You aren’t like them,” she crooned, “You’re special. You’re perfect.”

Harry shook his head, thinking carefully.

If that woman was the only one -

“Bones only has one memory of me here?”

“Just one,” Bellatrix nodded.

“Can she duplicate it?” Harry frowned, “I never bothered to learn too much about memory magic.”

Bellatrix smiled.

“No,” she grinned, “No, you can’t. It’s a memory. A singular instance. You can take it, or witness someone else's - but duplicate it? That takes more magic than it’s worth.”

Harry’s mind raced.

“But then - what about Bones’s memory of seeing the memory?”

If possible, Bellatrix’s smile grew.

“Foggy. Why do you think only immediate memories are admissible in court?”

Harry shrugged.

I wasn’t raised in the magical world. I wouldn’t know.

The feeling of empty space pressed against his skin once more. Harry focused, just barely able to sense the lack of magic to his right.

“Done,” Draco whispered faintly. Harry nodded.

Done. All the memories are gone.

“So then,” he spoke slowly, unable to stop the excitement from reaching his tone, “I only have to worry about the one memory she took. All the others are gone.”

Bellatrix crooned.

“All gone. Every last one.”

Harry’s fingers tapped against the side of his robes. He eyed Bellatrix curiously.

“Not all,” he corrected, “All but one.”

He eyed Bellatrix pointedly. The witch pressed herself more tightly against the bars.

“I wouldn’t,” she whispered, “You’re one of us. The very best of us.”

Harry watched as she pulled herself back. Her lips twitched.

“Your secret’s safe with me. I promise.”

Harry stirred.

“You’d best hold yourself to that, Bellatrix,” he warned, “You won’t like what happens if you don’t.”

Bellatrix grinned, breathing heavily.

“You sound like Master,” she panted, “I really like you.”

Doesn’t everyone?

With one last look at Bellatrix, Harry strode off. Malfoy followed hurriedly after him.

“Are we leaving, then?” he asked desperately. Harry frowned.

“No,” Harry yawned, “There’s still four more people I need to Obliviate.”

“FOUR?”

“Four,” Harry nodded, “We should probably get a move on. Kingsley’s probably gotten past that stupid snake by now.”

I’ll give it to him, he’s fairly strong.

“But I don’t need to fight, right?” said Malfoy seriously, “You just do your thing, and we’re gone.”

“For now, sure.”

“For now?”

“We came here to get rid of all the memories of me,” Harry frowned, “But there’s still one more.”

Though he couldn’t see it, Harry knew the color was draining from Draco’s pale face. The thought of it made him smile.

“It’s with Madam Bones, isn’t it?”

Harry grinned.

“Bingo.”

Their feet carried them down the length of Azkaban’s left wing, Draco’s threats of suicide falling upon the unhearing ears of hundreds of prisoners.