Search:

SIYE Time:21:50 on 28th March 2024
SIYE Login: no


Hail Odysseus
By Brennus

- Text Size +

Category: Alternate Universe
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Other
Genres: Action/Adventure
Warnings: Death, Disturbing Imagery, Extreme Language, Intimate Sexual Situations, Spouse/Adult/Child Abuse, Violence/Physical Abuse
Story is Complete
Rating: R
Reviews: 370
Summary: After believing that Harry Potter died in a house fire at the age of ten, the Wizarding world is shocked when he returns out of the blue, just in time to attend his seventh year at Hogwarts. They're even more shocked when he's Sorted into Slytherin.
Hitcount: Story Total: 119976; Chapter Total: 7716
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
Hmm, I might need to throw out a few violence and sexual content warnings with this chapter (stop cheering at the back, there, you sick puppies!). If you are particularly fond of fluffy bunnies you might want to skip the odd bit of this, too.

Huge squidgy thanks to Arnel for beta reading/background info checking. As neither of us could find a canon-quoted first name for Blaise Zabini’s mother, that’s good enough for me to start inventing things!




ChapterPrinter
StoryPrinter


Chapter 8 — Primal Urges



“How the hell did this happen?” Ginevra demanded angrily through gritted teeth.

Harry sank down into his chair. Although it was late, he had no thoughts of sleep. His stomach was a stewing pit of acid, and he lusted for vengeance. However, Gellert had drilled into him enough that it was exactly at times like these that you had to take a step back and assess the situation before acting. Running off blindly would help no one.

“I think that Tracey was unlucky. The real target was me,” he answered bitterly.

“Well, duh! That’s not the bloody issue, Potter. Some low-life scum is dishing poison out, and I want to know who it is!” she raged. “It’s obvious that you were the target, no one would have bothered to poison Tracey, but whoever it was is a bloody idiot. I mean, it’s common knowledge that Davis was always nicking stuff off your plate or drinking from your cup; she did it all the time. Actually, come to think of it, how the hell did this person even manage to get the poison in your goblet? It’s not like you sit in the same spot every meal and no one came near us once we sat down. The food is all magically transported to the tables straight from the kitchens, and the elves would have made sure nothing was tampered with there.”

“I’m not sure,” Harry answered slowly, “but I suspect that this was the work of someone with a bit of skill in these matters. Remember, Tracey snatched that goblet off me right before I was going to take a sip. I can only think that the poison was magically transferred to my goblet as I was pouring the juice.”

“That’s not an easy bit of magic,” Ginevra noted, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “The person would definitely have needed to have a clear view of you, too.”

“Yeah, but it’s the poison itself that really intrigues me. I heard Snape tell the Aurors that the concoction doesn’t even have a proper name, he’s only ever heard rumours about it,” Harry explained darkly. “Not only is the stuff extremely fast acting, it’s virtually impossible to detect. If Snape hadn’t been able to smell the goblet so quickly, the poison would have evaporated within a minute. It requires a reaction with human saliva to become active, otherwise it just evaporates. It’s the tool of a professional killer.”

Ginevra stared at him with her fury mounting. “Are you saying…” she began.

“Who do we know who has a relative that keeps having her husbands drop dead, apparently for no detectable reason?” Harry growled. “You said that he wanted to follow in his mother’s footsteps. I think he just expanded his repertoire to include assassination.”

“Zabini!” Ginevra bellowed. “I’ll rip him to shreds! I swear, I’ll bloody kill the bastard.”

“It’s a shame you didn’t kill him when you had the chance,” Harry agreed. “Still, that’s an error we can soon rectify.”

For a second, Ginevra looked uncertain. “You mean that, do you?” she asked. “We’re actually going to kill him?”

“The Aurors won’t get anywhere; there’s simply no evidence. More to the point, he’s proved he has access to a deadly poison which he can drop into a cup or bowl completely undetected. I simply can’t afford not to take him out,” Harry pointed out.

“He wouldn’t be stupid enough to try that again, would he?” she argued. “I mean, people are already going to be linking his name to this. If someone else ends up poisoned, he might as well paint a big arrow on his forehead with the words ‘I did it’ written above it.”

“Oh, he might not try immediately, but he’d always be a threat. Besides, we don’t know what sort of pressure he’s under to finish me off,” Harry mused. “In my experience, once a person kills once, he’s likely to do it again. It’s always easier a second time.”

“Speaking from experience, are you?” Ginevra asked in a strangely distant voice.

Harry looked at her. “Yes, I am, although the only people I have ever killed have been working, directly or indirectly, for Voldemort. I have a rule: if a person works for that twisted bastard then I will kill them. I’m pretty sure that covers Blaise Zabini.”

Ginevra nodded, suddenly not looking so sure.

“Don’t worry,” Harry told her kindly. “I’ll take care of it. You won’t need to be involved, at all.”

“No,” Ginevra said fiercely. “Tracey was my friend. Like you said, I had the chance to finish Zabini before and I didn’t take it. This is my fault.”

“It’s not your fault,” he assured her, “and if you had killed him back then, you’d probably be in Azkaban right now.”

“But Tracey would still be alive,” Ginevra said bitterly.

“You two were pretty close,” Harry noted softly.

“She was virtually my only friend in this whole bloody school,” Ginevra complained quietly. “As soon as I was Sorted into Slytherin, no one wanted anything to do with me, including any of my brothers. Even my best friend from when I was growing up started distancing herself from me, although that was probably more due to pressure from her fellow Ravenclaws. Tracey was like a kindred spirit, and we looked after each other.”

“It must have been tough. I can’t believe some of the crap they put kids through at this place,” Harry said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Welcome to my life,” she snarled. “So, what are we going to do about Zabini, then?”

“Well, this is how I think we should do it…” Harry started to explain.

The two of them worked on the details of their deadly plot well into the night.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP HPHP

Blaise Zabini lay back on his bed and stared at the ceiling moodily. The last couple of days had been a pain in the arse, and it was all the fault of that stupid bloody half-blood Davis.

He’d been questioned repeatedly, both by the Aurors and the teaching staff, but he’d remained cool and given nothing away, confident that there was no solid evidence against him. More troubling was Draco’s attitude; the boy was livid. He’d told Blaise in no uncertain terms that if he didn’t finish Potter like he’d promised then the consequences would be severe.

The trouble was that all eyes were on him now, including Potter’s. He’d seen the boy glare at him with undisguised hatred as he’d left the Great Hall. If the reputation of the Boy Who Lived was even partially true, then Potter wouldn’t bother looking for evidence against him, he’d simply act. It was clear in Zabini’s mind that it was a case of kill or be killed, and he wasn’t going to be the one pushing up the daisies.

In frustration, he kicked out against nothing. Damn that Davis girl to hell! He’d been so close to taking Potter out. Still, the filthy little half-blood whore was no loss to anyone.

A soft creaking sound made him look up. To his horror, he saw the heavily-warded door of his room swing open revealing Ginevra Weasley standing there with a furious look on her face. Worst still, standing right beside her was Harry Potter with a murderous gleam in his eyes.

Zabini flung himself to the side in a desperate attempt to grab his wand which was lying on top of his bedside cabinet. Unfortunately, he’d barely begun to move before he was hit by a Full Body Bind, and he fell face down onto the bed. He heard the door close and footsteps approaching. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Potter walk up and grab his wand. A second later, it was just so many pieces of broken wood lying on his bed.

He was just getting over this shock when he felt conjured ropes wrap tightly around him and the Full Body Bind was cancelled. Desperately, he began to yell at the top of his voice in the hope that someone might hear. A moment later, he was wrenched off the bed and something hard connected with his head. He blanked out for a second, before he regained his senses and found himself staring into the hard, green eyes of Harry Potter.

“We cast a Silencing Charm, so you can cut that crap out,” he snarled.

“What do you want?” Zabini asked fearfully. He knew, the longer he could keep them talking, the less chance there was that they would kill him. His best hope, he guessed, would be trying to convince them to turn him over to the Ministry. After all, hadn’t Potter done exactly that with Lucius Malfoy?

“You know what we want,” Potter replied coldly. “How easy this is depends entirely on you. I want to know how you put that poison in my goblet, where you obtained the foul stuff, and who else was involved.”

“Poison? You think it was me that killed Davis? No, no, I swear I had nothing to do with that! Please, search my room. You won’t find anything here,” he begged.

“Zabini, you might be a murderous scum-sucker who takes it up the arse from Malfoy, but we don’t think you’re that stupid,” Weasley growled. “You wouldn’t keep anything incriminating in your own room.”

Blaise looked helplessly at Weasley. Thinking about it, she may be his salvation. She might be a viscous little bitch, but she wasn’t a killer, he didn’t think. Hell, if he hadn’t got impatient with the prick-teasing whore, he would probably have screwed her by now.

“Ginevra,” he begged, “you know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt Tracey. Why would I? I really liked her.”

“Oh, we know you weren’t trying to kill Tracey. You were trying to kill me,” Potter stated categorically.

“Why are you listening to him, Ginevra?” Blaise asked, ignoring Potter. “He’s a bloody maniac. You saw the way he attacked me and my friends the moment he got here. He’s got it in for poor Draco. Come on, Ginevra, you know I wouldn’t do something like this. I’m sorry about what happened between us, but you know I wouldn’t hurt you or your friends, right?”

“Friends? I only had one friend, and you killed her, you shithead!” Ginevra shrieked.

“Potter, if you think you have a genuine reason to accuse me, then you should turn me over to the Aurors,” he said, turning his attention back to the young man after realising that Weasley was just too angry to see reason at that moment. “Let them judge any evidence.”

“Evidence? Oh, but I don’t have any evidence,” Potter said in a worryingly pleasant voice. “But I soon will have.”

As fast as lightening, Potter pulled out a large dagger from his robes and thrust it into Zabini’s thigh. White-hot pain lanced through him and he screamed in agony.

“Legilimens!” he heard Potter yell, and looked up to see the young man pointing his wand directly at his head.

Desperately, he tried to ignore the searing pain in his leg and get his mental shields in place. Nearly everyone in Slytherin House had been taught some form of Occlumency from an early age, and he was no exception. Old, powerful families generally had dark secrets to keep, the Zabinis more than most. His mother had paid for training from the finest of teachers, but none of his tutors had taught him how to defend his mind while he had a knife embedded in his leg.

Potter swatted away his hasty defences like they were tissue paper. Zabini grimaced as his memories were ransacked without mercy and his mind, quite literally, was raped. Visions of events from throughout his life flashed before him, some discarded almost instantaneously, and others were perused in detail. He lay helplessly as his life was exposed, examined and judged.

“Well?” he heard Ginevra demand.

Blearily, he looked up, realising, to his surprise, that Potter had vacated his mind. Not that it mattered, the bastard had seen everything there was to see, and Blaise didn’t think he’d react well to what he’d witnessed.

“He used a variation on the Banishing Charm. It allows him to move small objects with precise accuracy. The poison was contained in a tiny capsule, which dissolved as soon as the pumpkin juice touched it. The capsule was so minute that we wouldn’t have noticed it. It didn’t need to be large; the poison was so potent that only a drop would be needed,” Harry explained. “He has a further supply stashed away in unused room on the fifth floor. We can get it later.”

“So, what are you going to do now?” Blaise demanded through gritted teeth. The dagger was still lodged in his leg and hurt like hell. “They’ll lock me up for life if you turn me in. You know this wasn’t anything personal, Potter. If I hadn’t done as Draco demanded, I’d be dead meat.”

“Ah, but you were more than happy to try to kill me, weren’t you? You’ve been looking for a chance to try out that poison for ages. You’d have killed me even without Draco’s threats, or even that big bag of gold he promised you. I guess that kicking I gave you when I first got here really pissed you off, eh?” Harry taunted him.

Zabini desperately considered his options. Potter had been in his head and he’d seen everything. He witnessed a vision of him and his mother laughing as his sixth step-father died in horrible pain. He’d seen him rape a fourteen-year-old Muggle girl and then Obliviate her. Hell, Potter had even watched the debauched games that he, Draco and Pansy played in private. More importantly, Potter had seen Blaise transfer the poison into his goblet just as he was pouring juice into it. His guilt was unquestionable, and he doubted Potter would be merciful.

No, his only hope lay with Weasley. The simple fact that the girl hadn’t hexed him while he’d been trying to seduce her was evidence enough that she liked him. He’d got bored of the game before he’d had a chance to have her, but she hadn’t complained about his company before then, had she? No, she was the weak link, and his chance at salvation.

“Ginevra, please, you have to help me,” he begged. “I’m sorry I got excited and tried to take things too far! I just couldn’t help myself. You’re so, so beautiful, and I’d wanted you for so long, I just got carried away.”

“Carried away? You tried to rape me, you bastard!” Ginevra yelled.

“I thought you wanted what I wanted,” he protested. “After all, why did you go into that deserted classroom with me, otherwise?”

“It wasn’t to have sex with you, you arrogant shit,” she spat. “If you remember, you told me you had something important to tell me. I certainly didn’t give you permission to stick your hand up my skirt.”

“You wanted it as much as I did,” Blaise snapped, his anger getting the better of him.

“I said no! N — O, no! What part of that didn’t you understand, you vile arsehole? Did you really think I believed all that crap you spouted to me? All those lies and deceptions? Didn’t you think I knew what you were getting up to with Malfoy and Parkinson all the time you were telling me that I was special? Do you really think I’m that stupid?” she screamed, magical energy crackling around her.

“Please, Ginevra, I love you,” Blaise gasped, his last-ditch attempt at winning her over.

Weasley lunged towards him as quick as lightening. He felt the dagger being wrenched from his leg and rammed forcefully into him. In disbelief, Blaise looked down to see the hilt of the knife protruding from his chest. A wave of intense pain hit him, and he felt himself go faint.

The last thing he ever saw was a pair of brown eyes glaring at him in hatred.

Harry watched in shock as Ginevra staggered back few steps. She was holding her right hand out as if it was causing her pain, but he quickly realised that she was distressed by the fact it was covered in Zabini’s blood. Carefully, he walked up to her and cast a Cleaning Charm on her hand. She turned and looked up at him.

“I knew they’d force me to this one day,” she told him, her voice trembling. “I knew they’d turn me into a killer. It was destined to happen from the moment that fucking hat Sorted me into Slytherin.”

“Ginevra…” Harry began softly.

“They all forced me to become this,” she continued, close to tears. “Everyone: the pure-blood idiots, the teachers, even my stupid family. They stuck this label on me and watched me turn into a monster.”

“You’re not a monster,” he told her, gently taking her into his arms. “Getting rid of Zabini wasn’t murder, it was justice. The bastard killed Tracey, and would have killed me. Hell, he would have killed just about anyone if there was profit in it for him.”

“We could have turned him over to the Aurors,” she pointed out weakly, her face pressed against his shoulder.

“We could have, but his mother is a rich and influential woman. There was no saying he would have ever been charged, let alone been convicted. From what I saw in Blaise’s memories, Mrs Zabini has bribed and screwed her way out of trouble before, and she wouldn’t hesitate to do so again to save her son. If he’d been allowed to remain free, in a few years he would have left a trail of bodies behind him, and it’s very likely yours would have been one of them,” Harry told her.

“Do you think he would have gone after me?” she asked, sounding oddly child-like.

“Yeah, he hated you for disfiguring him,” Harry explained sympathetically. “Do you know why he tried to pull you? He thought you were vulnerable. Underneath that hard exterior, he thought you were just a lonely, frightened little girl, desperately hoping someone would love her. That’s the way he operated, he sought out people he thought were susceptible and took advantage of them.”

“Maybe he wasn’t so far from the truth,” Ginevra said in a tiny voice.

“You might have been sad and lonely, but you were never weak,” Harry told her firmly. “I may not have known you long, but I can tell that you have a core of pure steel in that small body of yours. Zabini would never have realised that, because he thought that everyone was inferior to him. He never realised that you were better than him in every way.”

Ginevra wiped a tear from her eye, and broke the embrace. “What do we do now?” she asked, sounding more confident.

Harry smiled at her, proud to see her getting herself together. “We follow the plan we worked out. We gather up his belongings, and pack them in his trunk,” he told her. “Then, we’ll transfigure both the trunk and his body into something small, a twig or something, and take them somewhere to burn them. The Room of Requirement is probably the best place.”

“And after that?” she pressed.

“We carry on as before,” he told her. “We’ll continue your Animagus training in secret, but to the rest of the school we’ll just be casual acquaintances. There is one more thing we’ll need to think about, though.”

“What’s that?” she asked.

“Zabini might have planted the poison, but it was Draco Malfoy that ordered him to do it. We’ll have to decide when we take that rat bastard down, too,” he said grimly.

Ginevra looked at him for a moment, before nodding. She wanted vengeance for Tracey, not to mention for being given that damned diary back in her first year, and Draco would be next to pay.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

The next few days were rather tense. Zabini’s absence was noticed almost immediately, and everyone within Slytherin was questioned about the boy’s whereabouts. Harry was pleased to note the look of seething anger that Draco wore most of the time, not to mention the more wistful expression on Pansy’s face.

By mutual agreement, he and Ginevra avoided each other in public, and only met in the privacy of the Room of Requirement. He’d initially been a bit worried about her reaction to having killed Zabini, but the girl was made of strong stuff. The years of abuse and misery at the hands of her fellow Slytherins had toughened her up, and the murder of her only real friend in the school had apparently made her actions justifiable in her own mind. Harry was worried that the young redhead was bottling things up a bit too much, but otherwise was pleased to see that she seemed to be coping. He’d keep an eye on her, though.

He was unsurprised, however, when he received a summons from Professor Snape three days after Zabini’s disappearance. He made his way to the man’s subterranean office and soon found himself seated in front of the hook-nosed professor.

“Well, Potter, you do seem to have some very powerful men extremely interested in you,” Snape drawled, his dark eyes gleaming in the gloom.

“Oh? Who’s been talking about me now?” Harry asked flippantly.

“Both Dumbledore and Voldemort have been questioning me at length about you recently,” the man explained. “Dumbledore is becoming increasingly concerned about you and the depth of your knowledge. He quizzed me extensively on everything I know about you just yesterday, and I think he suspects you of having some involvement in Zabini’s disappearance. Of course, the Magical Oath you extracted from me severally limited what I could tell him, but even so, I suspect he’s beginning to think that you are a threat to him.”

“He doesn’t need to worry. I don’t intend to confront him unless pushed to it,” Harry replied carefully. “What about Voldemort? What was he saying about me?”

“The Dark Lord is actually beginning to believe that you might be persuaded to become an ally of his,” Snape said in a slightly amused voice.

“Come over to the Dark side: we have cookies,” Harry muttered.

“What?” Snape asked with a frown.

“Sorry, just my pitiful attempt at humour,” Harry apologised. “Of course, that will never happen. My mother would give me a thick ear when I meet her on the other side should I even think of such a thing.”

“She would, indeed,” Snape confirmed, a slight smile on his lips.

“While I’m tempted to try and use this to my advantage in some way, should it ever become remotely suspected that I’d reached any form of accommodation with Voldemort the Wizarding world would turn on me instantly,” Harry mussed. “I think any attempt at communication with him would be more trouble than its worth.”

“I suspect you’re right. Besides, I doubt any alliance would be more than temporary, and you would quickly find a knife sticking in your back,” Snape informed him.

“Very true, and I certainly don’t want to give Dumbledore any more reasons to doubt me,” Harry agreed. “Do you know if he’s moved the diary after my conversation with him?”

“Not when I was in his office yesterday,” Snape confirmed. “He was, however, very concerned about the disappearance of the Zabini boy. Tell me, Potter, did you kill him?”

“No, I didn’t,” Harry replied categorically. “I’ll give you a Magical Oath confirming that, if you want.”

Snape’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “You think he simply ran, then?” he asked.

“I admit I did have a few words with him,” Harry admitted carefully. “We both know he was responsible for Tracey Davis’s death, and that he was actually trying for me at the time. The boy was a sociopath and didn’t care who he hurt if they got in his way. He was as twisted and demented as that murderous bitch of a mother of his.”

“Granted, but allowing him to flee may have left a dangerous enemy at your back,” the professor point out. “He’s clearly learnt a lot from Dayana Zabini, and she is obviously a highly accomplished poisoner.”

“He won’t be a threat in the future, I can promise you. I would, however, appreciate if you kept my name and Blaise’s unconnected in the future. If his mother is as good as you say, I’d rather not have to watch out for her coming after me,” Harry noted.

“I’d really rather not have anything to do with the woman, no matter how beautiful she is,” Snape snorted.

“Beauty is only skin deep,” Harry noted.

“Truly,” Snape agreed fervently. “In any case, I have reported to the Headmaster that I didn’t think you were involved. Maybe we should point the finger of suspicion elsewhere. Perhaps the Weasley girl? She, after all, had…”

“Leave her alone!” Harry yelled, surprising himself greatly at how passionately he defended her. “What I mean is, she’s becoming a useful ally to me. I don’t want her implicated, at all.”

Snape looked at him appraisingly. “I thought something was going on there,” he said knowingly. “Be careful of the girl’s family, however. The Weasleys are ardent supporters of Dumbledore, if none too bright. I know that idiotic brother of Ginevra’s watches her closely, and they may try to protest to the Headmaster if they feel you are having any… influence… over the girl.”

“I’ll bear that in mind,” Harry promised. “I’ve seen that Gryffindor moron in action already and, frankly, I can’t believe he’s actually related to Ginevra.”

“Be thankful the twin brothers are no longer here at Hogwarts. They were quite possibly the most annoying, troublesome pair of empty-headed cretins I’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting. The older brothers are more dangerous, however, and you should be wary of them,” Snape advised.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Besides, it’s hardly likely I’m going to get an invite to family dinner, is it? We’re keeping our alliance quiet, so hopefully she won’t attract any attention from the more undesirable elements with our House,” Harry advised.

“Indeed,” Snape mused. “On another topic, your relationship with Draco Malfoy is somewhat troubling to me, I have to admit. The Malfoys have been good friends to me over the years and I wouldn’t want anything too damaging to happen to young Draco.”

“Then, for the love of all that is holy, get the idiot to stop funding assassination attempts on me,” Harry shouted angrily.

“So, it was Draco who encouraged Zabini to make the attempt on your life, was it?” the professor asked in a weary voice. “I told the stupid boy repeatedly that taking any action against you was a bad idea. I thought I’d gotten through to him, but clearly not.”

“No, I’m afraid the Malfoys are too arrogant and stupid to take too much notice of anyone’s opinions, other than their own,” Harry noted.

“I suppose it’s not worth me asking you to spare the boy now?” Snape asked in a defeated voice.

“He was ultimately responsible for killing Tracey Davis. Even if I chose to let him live, I very much doubt Ginevra Weasley would,” Harry replied firmly.

Snape looked up in surprise. “Did the Weasley girl kill Zabini?” he asked, sounding extremely shocked.

Harry remained silent.

“I would never have believed a Weasley would go so far,” Snape muttered, ignoring Harry’s non-response. “Now I see why you are so keen to protect her. You’ve got yourself a little fire-haired assassin, haven’t you, Potter?”

“Don’t refer to her in those terms. Just remember, Zabini killed Davis and would have killed again without remorse or hesitation,” Harry snapped. “Zabini was dead the moment he tried and failed to slip that poison into my goblet, and who actually did the deed is irrelevant.”

“Okay, Potter, you’ve made your point. I’ll keep an eye on your little friend and try and deflect any attention away from her should it occur,” Snape promised, before he changed the subject. “May I enquire what your next move is to be?”

“At some point I suspect I’m going to have to break into the Headmaster’s office, which I doubt will be easy,” Harry pondered. “Any ideas on that front?”

“Gaining entry will not be a major problem. Albus’s choice in passwords generally leaves a lot to be desired, I must confess. Your main problem will be Fawkes, his phoenix. The bird is in virtual permanent residence there, and will alert the Headmaster to the presence of any intruder. I suspect you may need to make your attempt on a burning day, when the bird is at its weakest. That, however, does not occur very often, although, if desperate, you could attempt to destroy the bird and force it into a re-birth,” Snape advised him.

“That’s not something I want to do if I can help it,” Harry noted. “Attempting to kill such a creature can have serious repercussions that I’d rather not have to deal with. Still, I’ll bear it in mind. I have a few other things I need to deal with before I make the attempt, so I’ll give the matter some thought.”

“Oh, you’ll be pleased to note that the Bones girl has been reigned in from her campaign of slander against you. Dumbledore had words with Sprout, who in turn conveyed her displeasure at being reprimanded by the Headmaster to her pupils. I understand some harsh words were exchanged,” Snape informed him with mild amusement.

“I’m surprised that Dumbledore took any action,” Harry admitted.

“I think the Headmaster is very much keeping his options open with regards to you, Potter. He is still hopefully you can be guided back onto the path of light,” Snape smirked.

“The only trouble with that is that Dumbledore thinks the ‘path of light’ lies directly underneath his thumb,” Harry snarled.

“Undoubtedly,” Snape grinned. “I will keep you informed of any major developments.”

“Thank you, sir,” Harry said sincerely, before leaving the office.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

After his conversation with Snape, Harry headed back to the Room of Requirement where, as usual, Ginevra was waiting for him.

“How did it go?” she asked as soon as he entered.

The Room of Requirement generally took shape to match the young girl’s moods and today she was obviously feeling slothful. The room was smaller than usual and rather cosy looking. It was dominated by a large sofa situated in front of a roaring fire. As the weather outside had been cold and damp, Weasley must have decided that this was a day for lazing in front of the fire.

“A bit of a mixed bag, actually,” Harry admitted. “Dumbledore is becoming rather suspicious of me, but as he made an effort to silence the Hufflepuff bullshit factory, he can’t be totally against me yet. I should warn you, though, I think Snape suspects that we got rid of Zabini.”

“Is that going to cause a problem?” Ginevra asked hurriedly.

“No, Snape agreed that the boy had to go. I wonder if he’d ever had a run-in with Blaise’s mother, actually, as he seemed rather hostile towards her. But in any event, I don’t think we have anything to worry about in that regard. Snape knows that I can sell him out to Voldemort anytime I want, so he’s not going to antagonise me over some stupid shit who likes poisoning his fellow students. I’m not totally sure that will be the case if we take out Draco, though,” Harry admitted.

“Why? Does Snape fancy the little poof? He probably found out that Draco was shafting Zabini and wants a bit of that action,” Ginevra smirked evilly.

“He described the Malfoys as being good friends to him in the past,” Harry explained, ignoring the girl’s smutty comments. “I’m not sure how far that loyalty will go, however. Snape apparently warned Draco off attacking me, and seemed to be appalled when he found out that he’d ordered Zabini to try that stupid stunt. I’ve a feeling that our beloved Head of House is only really loyal to one person: himself. When the time comes, we’ll just deal with Draco and warn Snape that it’s in his best interests to keep quiet. I’m sure we can come up with an incentive or two to help him come to the same conclusion.”

“That’s what I like about you, Potter, you’re a sneaky bastard,” she laughed. “So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

“I thought we’d just press on with your Animagus training,” Harry confirmed, slumping onto the sofa next to her. “Unless you’ve got anything else you’d prefer to do?”

“Oh, getting hopeful, are we, Potter?” she teased. “You think I’ve suddenly fallen for your dubious charms, do you?”

“I should be so lucky,” he smiled back. “But, seriously, I just wanted to know if you wanted to talk about anything. This has been a rough week for you, and I didn’t want to dump too much pressure onto you. Are you holding up okay?”

“Of course I am,” she replied irritably. “Why, don’t you think so? Do you just think I’m some weak little girl who’s just going to break down and cry? Screw you, Potter, I’m doing fine!”

“I’m just checking,” Harry said in a conciliatory tone. “If I thought you were some sobbing little princess, do you honestly think I’d have anything to do with you?”

“No, I guess not,” she replied, calming down a little. “I just hate it when people think I’m weak. I was a scared little child once, but that was a long time ago, and I’m never going back to being that girl ever again.”

“There’s a difference between being weak and allowing yourself to show your true feelings, though,” he pointed out. “You took a human life for the first time just a few days ago, and that’s a pretty big deal, no matter how justified the act was. I have to say, you’re handling it a lot better than I ever did, but, please, don’t just try and pretend it never happened. You have a right to be upset, and I’ll support you through this, I promise. I know it’s a bit of a cliché, but talking about it does help sometimes.”

Ginevra was silent for a few minutes, and just stared into the fire. “What was your first time like?” she asked eventually.

“It wasn’t long after a person very dear to me died of old age. It was a huge shock, seeing someone I loved just slip away right in front of my eyes. I mean, I probably saw my mother being killed by Voldemort when I was fifteen months old, but I have no memory of it. I loved that old woman like she was my own flesh and blood, and it was a huge blow to me to lose her,” he explained. “Anyway, shortly afterwards, my guardian and I were out one day when we ran into trouble. We’d been hunting for a specific person, but when we found him, he’d unfortunately got a few friends with him. Rupert Gibbon was only a minor Death Eater, but we suspected he had information we wanted, and we’d hoped to take him down quickly and cleanly.”

“What happed?” Ginevra asked curiously.

“Gibbon had joined Voldemort very late in the first war and was one of those arseholes who claimed to have been acting under the effects of the Imperius Curse. Like all the other shitheads who tried that lame excuse, he managed to get off, mainly as his family had a few Galleons to rub together, if you get my meaning. We’d intended to ambush him outside his house in Lincolnshire; Gibbon worked for the Ministry and it was fairly easy to find out where he lived. What we hadn’t counted on was him having a bunch of his fellow ex-Death Eaters staying in his house at the time,” Harry explained, shaking his head at the memory of their bad luck.

“How many of them were there?” Ginevra pressed, clearly intrigued at this rare view into Harry’s past.

“Eight, counting Gibbon,” he confirmed. “Now, I’m not saying that I was some naïve little boy here. I’d seen my guardian kill many times before, but I’d never been in direct combat myself. He’d always ordered me to hide myself if we were attacked and he would take care of the situation. Well, after seeing the woman I thought of as my grandmother die just days before, I wasn’t in the mood to just hide in the bushes. I leapt into the middle of the battle and started chucking curses around.”

“Then what happened?” she asked eagerly.

“Apart from nearly getting my head blown off and causing my guardian to have a seizure?” he chuckled. “Well, I’d been trained really well up to that point, but very little of that training was of a combat nature. Basically, I was slow to move, inaccurate in my spell casting and in such a rage that I wasn’t using my head. Needless to say, after about a minute I got hit with a Cutting Curse. Gellert had put four of the bastards down by then, but Gibbon had managed to separate me from the main battle before I got hit. I was laying on the ground, bleeding, with my wand knocked out of my hand, and this ex-Death Eater bastard bearing down on me. I really thought I was done for.”

“What did you do?” she asked in alarm.

“I performed wandless magic,” Harry admitted calmly. “I know very few people can do it, but I, apparently, have a strong enough magical core that I can perform small tasks like that occasionally. Gibbon was standing over me, just about to administer the killing blow, when I held out my hand and willed my wand into it. I was in such a panic that as soon as the wood touched my fingers, I cast an over-powered Blasting Curse at point-blank range. It hit Gibbon in the stomach and tore him open. My guardian found me later, magically exhausted and sobbing like a baby. I’d hit Gibbon so hard that I ripped him to shreds. I was traumatised for weeks afterwards, but my guardian nursed me through it. Shortly afterwards, he started teaching me to fight properly, which is just as well.”

“And your guardian was called Gellert, is that right?” Ginevra asked.

“What? How the bloody hell did you know that?” Harry yelled, leaping to his feet.

“You said his name,” Ginevra replied warily. “You said ‘Gellert had just put four of them down’ just then.”

“Oh, shit,” Harry cursed. While letting slip Gellert’s name wasn’t the disaster he had implied it would be to Dumbledore and Snape, Harry still hadn’t wanted anyone to know who had been looking after him. Quickly, he considered his options. Did he need to Obliviate Weasley, just to be on the safe side?

“Harry, you do know that I’ll keep any of your secrets, don’t you?” she asked nervously, somehow reading his mind.

He sighed and sat back down. “Ginevra, it’s not necessarily you that I’m worried about discovering all this. The Headmaster is a gifted Legilimens, and so is Snape, for that matter. If they start rummaging around in your head, they might pick the information out of your mind without you even knowing it.”

“You do know that nearly everyone in Slytherin practices Occlumency, to some degree, don’t you?” she asked cautiously.

“Really? Everyone? I thought that was limited only to the very rich and powerful families,” he replied in surprise.

“It’s practically a cottage industry in our House, Harry,” she replied. “Tracey actually helped me a great deal in learning it. I guess it was the price of being her friend, really. I might not be able to keep a determined attack out, but I would instantly know if someone was trying to perform Legilimency on me.”

Almost by reflex, Harry locked eyes with her and tried to enter her mind.

“Oi! Cut that out! That wasn’t a bloody invitation to try and rape my mind, you git!” she yelled slapping him hard across the face.

“Sorry,” Harry apologised whilst rubbing his face. “I had to test your abilities, but I promise I only attempted a surface reading. Your shields are pretty good but, as you say, they won’t keep a skilled Legilimens out. Still, if you promise me that you won’t dig into this anymore, I’ll let the matter drop.”

“Okay, but I really don’t know what you’re making such a fuss about,” she huffed.

“Trust me, Ginevra, if it became common knowledge who was looking after me for all those years, there would be an uproar,” he muttered.

“Alright, I’ll forget I ever heard the name Gellert, alright?” she confirmed testily. “So, is that a German name, or something?”

“Weasley!” Harry protested angrily.

“Oh, you’re just too easy to wind-up,” she laughed. “No more questions, I promise.”

“Thank you,” he said grudgingly. “Now, how are you coming along with your training?”

“I’ve cracked it,” she smirked arrogantly.

“What? You’ve achieved a full transformation already? Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s see it,” he insisted.

Ginevra stood with a grin on her face and stood a few feet in front of Harry. She closed her eyes and her face took on a distant expression. Around a minute later, she seemed to blur and a suddenly there stood a small wolf where she had been standing moments before.

“Sweet Merlin!” Harry gasped, before holding his hand out towards the wolf. The animal sniffed it once, before licking his hand.

Grinning like a madman, Harry examined the animal in detail. Ginevra’s wolf was still fairly small, no doubt reflecting her age and own diminutive stature. Her fur was a reddish-brown, streaked with grey in places, while her eyes were a golden-brown colour and seemed to sparkle with mirth.

“Brilliant, Ginevra!” Harry praised her. “Now let’s see you change back.”

A minute later, a very smug-looking Ginevra Weasley was again looking at him with a barely-supressed look of triumph.

“You didn’t think I’d get it so fast, did you?” she challenged him.

“No, I’ll admit that I didn’t,” he confessed. “Of course, this isn’t the end of your training, you realise?”

“I know I’ve got to make the transformation quicker and easier, but that will come with time,” she said confidently.

“Absolutely, and you will need to practice that a great deal, but that wasn’t what I was refereeing to,” Harry informed her. “You also need to spend some time in your wolf form and really start to understand the animal. Wolves think very differently to us humans, and you need to start to embrace that difference.”

“How do I do that?” she asked with a frown.

“Don’t make any plans for tomorrow evening,” Harry told her with a smile. “You and I are going hunting in the Forbidden Forest.”

The smile that came to Ginevra’s face was almost feral.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP HPHP

In the gathering twilight, the forest looked magical to Harry’s eyes. The shadows seemed to dance in the light of the fading sun, and the fragrant smells of night-scented stock and honeysuckles filled his senses. The recent rains had left everything feeling fresh and alive, despite it being late September. Truly, it was a wondrous evening to be out and about.

“Are you ready, then?” Weasley asked.

He looked down at the fiery redhead and smiled. Harry could hear the eagerness in her voice and her eyes were shining with excitement.

“Oh, yes,” he agreed. “You transform first so I can check you’ve got your form down one hundred per cent, and then I’ll change, too. Remember, I’ll be expecting you to keep up.”

“Pah, it will be you who’ll be struggling to keep up with me,” she replied cheekily, before closing her eyes and slowly beginning to change.

Very soon, Ginevra’s wolf stood before him, looking up expectantly. He paused to examine her form in detail and couldn’t help but be struck at what a beautiful animal she made. While he’d been surprised that she’d shared the same Animagus form as him, he had to admit that being a wolf suited her down to the ground.

Finding no fault with her animal form, Harry quickly changed into his own wolf. He was much larger than she, with his grey fur streaked with black. His green-tinted eyes looked at her and he was pleased to see her show him the proper respect. After all, he was the alpha wolf here, and Ginevra was his pack. For some reason, that very idea filled him with such pleasure that he thought he would burst. He was brimming with energy and nervous tension, and urgently needed to find a release. Without warning, he leapt forward and began to run.

There is a joy that wolves find in running. Their bodies are perfectly designed for pursuit and they live for the hunt. He’d barely gone more than a hundred yards into the forest before he caught the scent of prey: a colony of rabbits off to his left. His mouth began to salivate at the thought of fresh meat and he instantaneously changed the direction he was running.

Harry didn’t need to look around to know Ginevra was right on his heels. He could hear her light footfalls and smell her magnificent scent. In her wolf form she was intoxicating to him, nearly indescribable in her gloriousness. Sleek and powerful, beautiful but deadly, she was the stuff of his very dreams.

At the furious pace they were setting, Harry and Ginevra reached the rabbit warrens within half a minute. Harry slowed his pace and began to creep stealthily forward, with Ginevra matching him exactly. A moment later, Harry went down flat on his belly behind some bushes. Through the leaves, he could just make out around a dozen rabbits, all blissfully eating grass and unaware that death lurked just a few yards away. Harry had deliberately angled his run so that the slight breeze wouldn’t be behind him when he closed in on his prey. Even a hint of their scent would send the skittish rabbits diving for cover, and Harry wanted Ginevra to make her first kill in wolf form that night.

Suddenly, one of the rabbits looked up nervously and sniffed the air. They were so close now that it was probably unavoidable that their presence wouldn’t be detected, but he had hoped to be able to stalk a little closer before launching his attack. No matter. Bunching up his body, he sprang forward with blinding speed towards the rabbits. Ginevra was right beside him, and they curved their run so that they would be between their prey and the safety of the warrens.

The rabbits scattered in all directions. Harry’s eyes locked onto one fat animal that was frantically hopping towards the relative safety of the trees. His jaws locked around the animal’s neck and with a quick flick of his head, he snapped the rabbit’s neck like a twig. Dropping the dead animal to the ground, he looked round and was delighted to see Ginevra’s teeth sink into the soft flesh of her own rabbit. She shook her head furiously, nearly ripping the plump rabbit to pieces, before she dropped it to the ground and looked up at him with triumph in her eyes. Unable and unwilling to stop himself, Harry raised his head and let loose a howl of victory, and Ginevra’s higher pitched voice joined him momentarily. Together, they sang a song celebrating their conquest and the fact that they were the rulers of this forest.

A burning hunger within him halted his song. He picked up his kill in his mouth and padded over to Ginevra. Dropping the rabbit on the floor, he began to tear into it with his teeth. For some reason, rather than devouring her own rabbit, Ginevra stepped forward and began to share his meal. In seconds, the razor sharp teeth of their wolf forms stripped the meat from the bones of the dead animal, and they turned their attention to Ginevra’s kill, consuming that in short order, too. As Harry picked at the shattered bones of the small animal, Ginevra began to lick the blood from around his muzzle, emitting a low growl of pleasure as she did so.

Their meal finished, they began to run again. Although Harry had spent many hours in his wolf form, he had never before felt such uninhibited joy as he did now. Dimly, he realised that this was the first time he’d ever had another wolf by his side and Ginevra’s presence completed him. He was no longer the lone wolf, but the alpha of his own pack He was king of the forest, and all other animals made way for him. He was alive and life was wonderful.

Finding himself in a clearing, Harry slowed to a stop. The moon was beginning to rise in the sky, and the sharp, fresh smell of pine trees filled his nostrils. Ginevra padded up to him and again began to lick his face. The smell of the pine trees faded from his senses as he became aware of her own musky scent. It filled him with desire and a burning need, as he looked at her longingly, only to see her own golden-brown eyes blazing back at him. Without a sound, she turned and raised her tail, looking at him expectantly over her shoulder.

Harry mounted her in a second, his front legs wrapping around her body as he began to thrust himself into her. He heard himself yowling in pleasure, his lust overwhelming him and driving all rational, human thought from his brain. Ginevra was silent during their coupling, but her trembling body and the overpowering smell of her vaginal secretions left him in no doubt as to how much she was enjoying this. He felt her tighten around him, trapping him inside her in a wondrous embrace. His thrusting became frantic and he knew he was close to ejaculation. Without conscious thought, he swung his back leg over her while turning around. They stood, with their hind ends touching, as he emptied himself into her.

It took nearly ten minutes before he softened enough to separate himself from her. Unable to restrain himself any longer, he again turned his snout to the skies and howled in triumph. He had taken his mate, and all was right with the world. Ginevra howled too, and a second later they were both running back through the forest, their legs a blur as they shot through the dense undergrowth without difficulty. Somewhere during the run, Harry’s human awareness exerted itself and he became conscious that they had been out here for a long time. Reluctantly, he began to head for the edge of the forest so they could return to the school.

Ten minutes later, he reached the edge of the treeline and changed back into his human form. He found himself breathing heavily, not just from the exertion of the run, but from the lingering excitement of the fabulous experience he’d just had. With a massive grin on his face, he turned to face Ginevra, who was just returning to her own form. As soon as he saw the expression on her face, his smile faded.

“You bastard,” she growled in a low voice. “So, this was your plan all along, was it?”

“Ginevra?” Harry stuttered in surprise.

“You couldn’t get me to shag you in human form, so you lure me out into the woods so you can screw me as a wolf? Or do you prefer it like that, Potter? Is that how you get your rocks off, by doing it doggie style?” she snapped, the volume of her voice rising rapidly.

“What? I… no! I swear I didn’t plan this! I had no idea your wolf would be in heat, it just… happened,” he protested.

“Oh, come on! You’re the one with all the experience of being an Animagus! You must have known something like this would happen!” she bellowed at him.

“How could I have known? You’re the first female wolf I’ve ever encountered! Besides, I didn’t see you putting up much resistance out there. You seemed to be enjoying yourself pretty well,” he yelled back, his anger rising. As soon as the words left him mouth, however, he realised he’d said the wrong thing.

“You bastard!” she howled, tears starting to fall down her cheeks. “I thought you were different! I thought I could trust you, but you’re just like all those other boys, aren’t you?”

Her face red and puffy, she turned and began to storm back towards the castle.

“Ginevra…” Harry began in a pleading voice, starting to follow her. He stopped instantly when she spun round with her wand pointed directly at his face.

“Stay away from me!” she shrieked, before nearly running off into the darkness.

Harry watched her go with a sinking heart. How had something so wonderful turned so sour? For a moment out there, he’d felt like he’d joined with his soul mate, the person he was going to be together with for the rest of his life. Ginevra was the only one who understood him, and shared his desires and dreams. Apparently, he’d been mistaken.

Slowly, he began to trudge back to the castle, his heart breaking into a million pieces.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

The next few days were pure misery for Harry. Ginevra avoided him like the plague, and he suspected that any attempt he might make at trying to talk to her would not be well received.

On top of this, the rest of the school seemed as hostile to him as ever. The senior Hufflepuffs might have been banned from spreading gossip about him, but it hadn’t altered their opinion of him a jolt. Wherever he went, he was met with angry glares and whispered accusations from those wearing yellow and black. Even Michelle and her friend seemed a little wary of talking to him.

They weren’t the only ones. The Ravenclaws all still meticulously ignored him, to the point of taking wide detours around him if they saw him coming the other way in a corridor. This was at least preferable to his treatment from the other two houses. Both the Gryffindors and his fellow Slytherins hated him with a passion, united in their loathing of the Boy Who Lived.

He spent the days alone, stewing in his secluded misery. Despairingly, he tried to focus on his main purpose in coming to Hogwarts, and spent hours in the Room of Requirement, hunting for Rowena Ravenclaw’s diadem, which he strongly suspected must be hidden in there somewhere. Unfortunately, after a number of attempts, the room had changed itself into a massive space full of all manner of objects. It was the perfect place to hide the diadem, but it would probably take him months to search the entire place. Still, at least it was progress and it gave him a purpose here. Introducing the room to Harry had been Ginevra’s gift to him, it was just a shame that he couldn’t thank her for it.

It was an early Thursday afternoon, four days after the incident in the forest, when Harry found himself in the library. Although he found most of his lessons child’s play, some of his homework assignments simply couldn’t be completed with recourse to reference books. He sat alone at a table, leafing through a thick book on Ancient Runes, scribbling down half-remembered translations and formula, desperately trying not to fall asleep.

He was brought back to wakefulness by a presence standing near his chair. He looked up and saw Daphne Greengrass; an attractive blond girl who he recalled had been friends with Tracey. As he couldn’t recall saying two words to her previously, he was surprise to see her standing there.

“Potter,” she hissed in a low voice. “Malfoy and his friends are up to something bad. I just had to warn you.”

Harry frowned at the girl, feeling somewhat uneasy about her presence, but unable to access her mind. The girl was obviously an accomplished Occlumens.

“What’s Malfoy up to?” he asked cautiously.

“Here, take this. I can’t be seen talking to you,” she said, urgently thrusting a piece of paper at him.

Maybe recent events had put Harry off his game, or perhaps he was just feeling a little sleepy. Either way, he failed to notice the slightly reflective sheen on Greengrass’s hand until his own fingers closed around the slip of paper. The sickening lurch of an activating Portkey told him that he’d been tricked, and that the blond girl had been wearing see-through protective gloves to prevent her skin activating the key. As he tumbled through space, he cursed himself for his own stupidity.

A moment later, he slammed forcefully into the ground. Almost immediately, he felt a Full Body Bind spell hit him, and his arms and legs snapped together. Desperately, he rolled his eyes trying to discover where he was.

“Hello, Harry darling,” a taunting female voice said from somewhere behind him. “I can’t say how happy I am to have my little toy returned to me.”

Harry felt his insides twist in horror as Bellatrix Lestrange’s leering face appeared above him. At least it answered his question about where he was, he realised.

He was back in hell.









Reviews 370
ChapterPrinter
StoryPrinter




../back
‘! Go To Top ‘!

Sink Into Your Eyes is hosted by Grey Media Internet Services. HARRY POTTER, characters, names and related characters are trademarks of Warner Bros. TM & © 2001-2006. Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions on this site are those made by the owners. All stories(fanfiction) are owned by the author and are subject to copyright law under transformative use. Authors on this site take no compensation for their works. This site © 2003-2006 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Special thanks to: Aredhel, Kaz, Michelle, and Jeco for all the hard work on SIYE 1.0 and to Marta for the wonderful artwork.
Featured Artwork © 2003-2006 by Yethro.
Design and code © 2006 by SteveD3(AdminQ)
Additional coding © 2008 by melkior and Bear