Harry glanced at the woman frantically. Elaine. That was her name. There was a name to associate with a pearson this time. He couldn’t let this happen, not again. “No, of course I don’t,” he said quickly, placatingly, “but I’m… I’m asking you for this.”
“Get out, Harry,” was all Voldemort said before turning his back on him. Final. Like a gavel slamming down as the woman was given the death penalty.
Harry racked his brain for what to do. He reached up and pulled on his hair until it hurt but he couldn’t feel anything as panic swept through his mind, carrying all of his thoughts away with the breeze. No, not a breeze, a fucking tornado, leaving his mind in shambles as he struggled to figure out how to fix this.
The light bulb went off in his mind and immediately Harry wished it hadn’t. He wished he could find that same switch that had turned it on and flick it off to see the other possible lights in his headspace but he couldn’t. There wasn’t any time.
Harry steeled himself, damning himself to hell and whatever else lay even deeper into its nine circles, and dropped to his knees.
Voldemort’s advancement towards the woman stopped.