"Who attacked him? He got out of the house, right?" Ron asks loudly, not wanting to be ignored.
"Why do you think he was attacked?" Bill asks quickly.
"Well it's... I mean..." Ron stumbles a little, not really knowing what to say. It's Harry after all, so of course someone had to have attacked him. Or, well, not attacked since last year it was that crazy elf going and messing with him.
Hi hi, so, this is (eventually) going to be a scene for my series Hidden Inheritence... hopefully. It'll be in 4th year, a few days before the first task, with some wonderfully fluffy Theo and Harry interactions. But, anyone who doesn't quite enjoy spoilers, feel free to skip!
Anyway, @wixenforever, on the wonderful day of celebration, here is that scene you forgot you requested to see hehehe. 2650 words on the dot too, which is wonderful.
Now if only I could crank that out for my current WIP chapter of House of Black
November 21st, 1994
Harry barely slept that night, even after going to bed early. The knowledge that he has to fight a dragon just sticks in his head, never leaving, always bouncing and tumbling around in a panic that he barely keeps to himself.
The idea is impossible. It can't happen. How could he beat a dragon of all things? How could any of them? The other Champions are adults, sure, but he saw an entire team of Dragon Tamers have to stun just the Hungarian Horntail to get it to calm down. What could they know, three years old than him, that he and the Dragon Tamers don't?
As has become his habit since being forced into the Tournament, Harry reaches under his pillows and pulls out the Map. He doesn't say the wrong password this time, knowing he can see his Dad's clever remarks later. Instead, he opens the folds and flicks through the pages to look for Professor Moody. Like always, he's in the same spot within his office, not having moved an inch. At this point, he isn't sure if he should be worried for how little the Professor moves when he isn't in class or stacking the halls, or if he thinks the man just likes his bed or the comfortable chair he must be sitting in.
Then he flicks through other pages, seeing a pair of what he assumes are prefects patrolling the corridors, and thankfully doesn't see Barty Crouch. The times he's seen the mad on the Map, without seeing him in person, can only make him guess that he has an Invisibility Cloak as well. But what surprises him most is who's in the Library so early in the morning, even before Curfew is done.
He only blinks at the name once before he's bounding as quietly out of bed as he can, grabbing his cloak and bolting out of Gryffindor tower.
Harry skids through the halls, not having bothered to get dressed properly even with it being a school day, his slippers making it a little annoying to dash all the way there but he makes it. When he gets to the doors of the library he has to pause, catching his breath a little before pushing them open quietly and immediately darting into the stacks so Madam Pince, who he had seen coming down earlier as well, doesn't catch him.
He doesn't need to check the Map again, already walking through to the back of the library, sneaking up the stairs to the second story, until he peaks around and sees his worrying target. Stepping in he pulls the Cloak off and tucks it away into his pocket, before tilting his head over Theo's shoulder to read the book as well.
"Theo.... how long have you been awake?" He asks quietly, hating that there wasn't really a way to not startle his friend in the moment.
Theo jerks, turning in his chair and glaring. Harry knows Theo's want is in his opposite hand, ready to be used, but just waits as his friend blinks a few times to recognize him.
"Harry? It...." He trails off, looking at the fresh sunlight starting to stream in through the window nearby, the sun not even poking over the mountains yet. A long groan lets out as he sets his head down into the book. "It's morning."
"Yep." Harry agrees, sitting down next to him. He hesitates to reach out but does set his hand on Theo's shoulder and rubs it a little. "Did you read all night about.... dragons...." Harry starts to ask before trailing off, looking at the page while Theo lifts his head. It's about the Chinese Fireball.
He's blinking, eyes staying closed for almost a second each time as it loosely bobs in a nod. "Breakfast?" Theo asks, one fist raising up to rub an eye as he blinks at Harry.
"It, er," Harry starts as he looks around for a clock that unfortunately isn't near them. "It should be starting, I think."
Theo nods, or continues to as he hasn't quite stopped. "Then I...." He looks down, staring almost blankly at the book as his head finally stops rocking. He blinks, "Right, yes. You said Horntails, and the Swedish ones, right?"
"How long have you been reading?" He asks, reaching over and slowly pulling the book away to close it. Theo looks at him confused as he does so.
"Since... you told me yesterday right?"
Nope, Harry thinks, Snape can give me as many detentions as he wants today.
"Alright, Theo, come on." He says, standing up and leaving the haloed stacks of books where they are as he pulls Theo gently to his feet. "Let's get some breakfast, okay?"
Theo looks back at the books but doesn't object as Harry slips the cloak over them and starts sneaking out of the library. It's not hard keeping away from Madame Pince, thankfully, and even easier to walk the practically empty halls of the ground floor. Even still, their progress is slow as Harry makes sure Theo isn't stumbling or swaying.
He gets worried for a moment when Theo doesn't ask him about why they aren't going to the Great Hall, since Harry leads them straight to the stairs through a few quieter corridors, but calms down when they get to the stairs. Theo looks over, questioningly, but as chatter filters down and they both look up through the Grand Staircase, Harry settles for smiling encouragingly, which thankfully works.
So he leads them down the stairs, easily avoiding the first few knots of snakes and cetes of badgers. The closer they get to the kitchens, though, the harder it gets for them to avoid the badgers. Thankfully, though, despite how close their common room entrance apparently is to the kitchens, they all focus so much on whatever they're talking about with their friends that Harry slips both him and Theo into the room without being noticed.
At least he hopes so, after the pear giggles when he tickled it.
The entry way is noticeably warmer than just outside the door, which Harry knows he expected but hadn't quite prepared himself for. It feels like when Aunt Petunia had cooked a roast all day, where the kitchen was toasty, thankfully not sweltering, by the end.
He takes the cloak off, nudging Theo with his shoulder as he smiles.
"Why're.... the kitchens?" Theo asks, looking around as they step into the room proper.
Harry doesn't get to answer, as several elves come towards them almost immediately. One, Harry is surprised to note, being Dobby.
"Little Masters!" The lead one asks, their bright yellow eyes reminding Harry of Professor McGonagall's animagus form. "What can we'd be doing for yous? Is there a dish yous are wanting?"
"Oh, er, no. No thanks." Harry says, wincing and continuing quickly as he sees them all start to deflate. "Nothing special, that is, I just though Theo needed a different place to eat. It's really loud, and, er, well..."
"Oh Mister Harry Potter Sir is so kind to his friends," Dobby says, beaming, even as he gives Theo a double check. "Do yous be wanting anything, Mister Harry Potter Sir?"
"Oh, uh, no thank you. Nothing special, just whatever's here," Harry says as he looks at Theo.
"Coffee?" Theo asks, still looking around and back down at the elves, blinking slowly.
"No, just, um something else? It'd keep you up."
Theo looks over, quiet for a long moment, as he just looks at Harry confused. "That's.... Yes? So I can keep reading."
Harry smiles, a little tightly, before looking down at the elves. "Just something normal, please? And some warm milk."
The elves nod, and they're lead over to a popped into existence round table with two chairs opposite each other. Theo's quiet, his brow furrowed in what Harry hopes isn't anger. Their food is brought over, and Harry takes a bite of the pastry in front of him before Theo speaks again while looking betrayed at the milk in front of him.
"I'm... you're trying to put me to sleep." He accused, looking up baffled.
"Erm..... yes?" Harry hedges, hoping Theo doesn't hate him for it.
"But.... I had..." Theo trails off a moment, drowning deeper than Harry's really ever seen. "Three books left?"
Harry shrugs, honestly not knowing and wishing he did with how Theo looked to him as if he knew the answer. "You had a few stacks left," he offers trying to be helpful.
Theo blinks, blinks again, and then groans as he presses the heels of his hands into his eyes and rubs them. "Right I.... fuck," he groans. "It was three left for the, um..... Hebridean?"
"The Horntail?" Harry tries again, knowing that the Hebridean Black isn't one of the dragons that'd been brought for them to fight. And then, just as quickly, he shoves that thought away. He distracts himself by reaching over and nudging Theo's plate forward, thankful that it prompts his friend to reach down and take a bite from the stew he'd been given.
"Yeah, that." He says before swallowing. It's funny, to Harry, just for the novelty of it with how he's never seen Theo eat in less than a dignified way. "I was... they're vicious." He settles on.
"Seemed that way," Harry says quietly, remembering it shooting its fireball and entirely scorching one of the trees in the forest.
They keep eating, with Theo trying to be helpful and tell Harry about what he's read, but with how tired he is he often trails off, forgetting his place, and having to be reminded what he was talking about. It's worrying for him, seeing his usually so eloquent friend so out of it.
Harry thinks back, remembering their day at the fair in Surrey last summer, but even that wasn't nearly as bad as this. Is it because of what's happening now, compared to his dad being gone? The thought makes an odd warmth try to rush to his cheeks, but he shoves it away to instead focus back on Theo. They'll need to find somewhere to rest soon, anyway.
"Why the kitchens?" Theo asks as Harry's waving at Dobby and the other house elves, standing by the door to leave.
"Seemed better," Harry says with a shrug, "and I've been meaning to come after George told me about it."
Theo's eyes narrow, more discerning and watchful than they have been all morning. "You ate well," he says slowly.
Harry's lips thin a little, but he nods as he peaks out of the door and pulls Theo along. "Yeah, I'm fine, I promise."
Theo doesn't say anything, but Harry can almost here the doubt that still persists. It's nice, having people care like this, he thinks. But he can reassure him properly later, once Theo's been taken care of properly. Which, right now, means finding a place to sleep.
Something that, after three years of wandering the castle and now almost a year of having his Dad's Map, is all too easy. Especially when, after two decades, the rooms that his parents claimed as their friends spaces where usually forgotten.
So he goes to Regulus', slipping through dungeon corridors that Theo doesn't even look like he's gone through all that much. It's on basically the opposite side of the dungeon complex from Snape's class, thankfully, allowing them to slip into the room without any fanfare.
"What's this?" Theo asks, looking around and yawning despite himself.
"Oh, er, this is a place that Regulus went a lot." Harry says, distracted while he looks around at the perfectly neat, if dusty, room. It's practically a drawing room, with chairs tables and sofas all settled around the space; though there are two desks pushed against the far wall. "His journals mentioned it a few times."
He nods, looking around and blinking tiredly in the cold room. "Been here before?"
Harry shrugs, wanting to go look at the desks for anything left behind, but turns back. "A little, just to make sure I knew where it was. Doesn't seem anyone messed with it, which is great. But it's a place we can just, erm, relax."
Theo's eyes nod, watching him as he, a little awkwardly, shuffled over to one of the sofas. After a moment, where Theo doesn't move, Harry settles for stretching out along it and trying to gesture for his friend to sit somewhere.
"Harry I'm not.... isn't Potions this morning? Professor Snape wouldn't—"
"Potions is tomorrow," Harry says, sitting back up quickly as Theo starts to turn back towards the door.
"It's Tuesday." Theo says slowly, frowning and biting the inside of his lip.
Harry shakes his head, standing up and taking Theo's hand and pull him slowly deeper into the room. "It's Monday, Theo. You need to sleep."
"I'm fine," Theo says instantly, even as his frown deepens. "'Sides, there's.... dragons." He says, a yawn splitting his sentence. "There's..... it's soon."
Harry nods, still pulling Theo along who thankfully doesn't put up a fight. "I'll be ready, I promise. But you need to sleep, at least a nap. If you don't, how would I pick your brain about the dragons?"
Harry doesn't quite believe his own words, but is thankful he didn't sound like it. How could he prepare to fight a dragon as a fourth year?
Theo shakes his head, even as he heavily drops onto one of the sofas and leans against the back with a groan. "Sleep later. There isn't.... I can sleep after you win."
"I'm not going to win," Harry says, huffing a laugh despite himself, "I'm just gonna get through it. But you need to sleep, Theo."
"Sound like Finley," He groans, his head almost flipping to the side as he barely musters a glare at Harry. "I'll be f-fine." A yawn almost comes, but Harry watches him force it down.
"Just for a bit," Harry urges, "we'll go to classes when breakfast ends." As if it hasn't already, Harry thinks to himself. "You know Professor McGonagall hates it when anyone's tired in her morning lessons."
Theo grunts a sound of agreement and mutters something that Harry can't quite catch. But he stays put, his arms crossing along his chest as his eyes slip shut.
Harry's tempted to hold his breath, and definitely quiets it, as he stays as still as possible. He's seen Theo fall asleep of course, but never when he's exhausted. As soon as his friend gets settled, his breathing turns smooth and deep, his muscles releasing their tension and falling lax. It's completely different to the slow then sudden drop into sleep that normally happens.
He catches himself watching, just looking at the vein in Theo's neck slowly jumping, the way his chest rises, falls, and stills in calm motions, so he looks away quickly. There aren't any blankets in the room, unfortunately, but he moves on quiet feet across to the desks and finds a roll of parchment already out. Harry whispers the incantation, taking two tries to get it into a properly soft throw, before turning back and gently laying it across Theo's chest.
It doesn't wake him, thankfully, so Harry goes to one of the chairs nearby and pulls his feet up on the seat to watch. Not Theo, because that'd be creepy, but just looking around the room and imagining what he'd read about, trying to get it to play out like a movie in front of him; which happens after a few tries, and running through a few of the moments he read over and over again. Searching the room would've woken Theo up, after all, so he had to find something else to do.
And if they stay there all morning, and past lunch, well... it just means they got to go back to the kitchens and see Dobby again.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/63970507/chapters/164088706
@wixenforever @that1notetaker I'm gonna go run away now bye bye! lmfao. Oh this is going to be wild, and I really am sorry for how long it takes me to write proper chapters hahaha.
Enjoy this 950 word drabble of a scene that I'll eventually finish for The House of Black, my HP fanfic.
Harry barely took a second to look down the stairs before he was taking them two at a time, rushing down as Theo struggled his way up, his wand and a knife brandished at the Dursleys.
“Stay back.” Theo warned, his voice having taken on a low and dangerous quality that he’d never heard nor imaged could come from his friend.
A thrill runs down his pack, hairs all across his arms, back, and neck standing on end as electricity seems to fill the air and adrenaline fills his veins like a rushing fire. He’d only felt truly like this from his near-death experiences in Hogwarts, but he doesn’t have time to figure out why it feels the same. Why Theo’s voice had sparked this reaction in him.
He gets down far enough to gently grab the shoulder of Theo’s wand arm, pulling him up another step as Vernon takes a menacing step closer as Ripper shouts and howls at them from near Marge.
Harry suppresses a full body shudder as Vernon glares up directly at him, as if Theo wasn’t holding deadly weapons toward him. “Boy,” he growls, “get your freak out of my house.” He swallows thickly, doing his best to think of how to get Theo safe.
He didn’t trust Vernon, and especially not Marge, to not hurt him somehow if he did as was asked. That’d only make his own punishment less painful, afterall. His thoughts abruptly shift, though, as Theo nudges him another step up the stairs.
“We have to leave,” his friend says, not looking away from the Dursleys, “now.”
“Why?”
“Because the first escapee of Azkaban is after your life.”
Harry’s head whips around to Petunia as she sucks in a deep shuddering gasp. She’d always been pale, but now she looked sickly, horrified, more than he’d ever seen her. He was entirely sure what Azkaban was, so how would she know? Had his Mum mentioned it at some point? A thousand thoughts run through his head, trying to find some reason for his perfectly normal Aunt Petunia to know more about this than he did.
He couldn’t find any before a loud, explosive, bard crushed through the air. Heavily pounding paws, everyone turning and asking as a massive black hound rushes towards the door. Except, it never reached the doorframe. Instead, a man twisted and melted into and through it in place of the dog. The same black, matted and shaggy, hair was rolling down his head. Wild, gray eyes darted through the entry for only a moment.
They flicked to the huddled form of his Aunts and cousin, a small sneer that quickly disappeared as he looked confused at Vernon who was only now turning to face him. But it turned into a snarl as he saw Theo, which made Harry quickly drag his friend up to the same step. Then the man's eyes settled on him, and a greatly confused flurry of expressions raced across his gaunt and drawn features. Confusion and what Harry guessed was rage was first, then joy as the gaze settled properly on him. After that, it was a flurry he couldn't catch most of, other than confusion and disbelief before it settled into a hard look as it switched between Theo and Vernon.
“Harry, run. Now!” Theo shouted, his voice desperate as he shoves Harry roughly with an elbow while pointing the wand towards the stranger. “Locomotor Mortis!” A red bolt of spell fire shoots from his wand, the man jumping to the side as he makes his way towards the stairs.
“Harry,” the man calls out, his voice rough and scratchy, “Harry don’t-” He’s cut off as he gasps, getting hit by a Diffindo in the arm.
“Harry, run!” Theo shouts again, shoving him up to the landing. “He’s going to kill you!”
Harry’s eyes bulge out, quickly raking up and down the strangers form as he finally takes stock of the ratty clothes on him. Was this what Azkaban made its denizens wear? The man gapes, looking offended as he tries once again, “Harry I’m not- just let- argh.” He falls beneath Vernon, who’d been caught by a Tripping Jinx by Theo.
He just stares at the man, not sure what to think. The only reason… he must be with Voldemort. That’s the only thing that sticks into his head, the only reason he’d been hunted—why people had tried to kill him—so far in his life. With a deep, desperate thought, a crash rings through the house as his wand breaks through the door of his cupboard. Before it even lands in his hand, he’s yelling the Body Bind curse towards the man trapped under Vernon.
“Harry!”
Everything stops.
He whips his head around, bending halfway over the railing and taking a step down the stairs to do so. Theo tries to pull him back, but Harry just bats his hand away as he stares at his Aunt Petunia. She looks up at him, eyes wide as they bounce between the pile at the bottom of the stairs and him. “Run,” is all she says to him, voice filled with so much fear that he doesn’t dare question it. The last thing he sees is her pulling Dudley into the kitchen, yelling for Vernon.
With a steadier grip than he’d thought he could manage, he pulls at Theo’s arm and pounds towards the smallest bedroom. He lets go of Theo’s arm and drops to the ground, reaching under the bed to grab the bundle wrapped in his Dad’s Invisibility Cloak as he heard the locks on his door slam shut in a flurry of clicks as a rush of magic fills the room.
Hi, hello, enjoy? Maybe? Almost 1200 words (1187) of Theo making his first move on the political scene, all the way back at the end of Prisoner of Azkaban.
Just a thing that might stay as is for an eventual fic, cause it was in my head and I needed it to not be anymore.
Theo takes a deep breath, letting calm flood through his veins as he slows his frantic pace to a trot. You must be stern, Theodore, the words echo in his ears, no one will listen if you blabber around like that. Another breath, too cold for how early it is in the night. He knows that father won’t question why this is his first move, even if it’s something as risky as this that he would undoubtedly expect to be doomed to failure. Mother had always been the one to warn him out of decisions, after all; father simply let him fail and then explained why after.
He shakes his head as he turns another corner and can already hear raised voices from inside the Hospital Wing. Another breath, blows out through his nose as steel straightens his spine, and a cold fire fills his eyes. Speak of what you know, and they will listen.
“Minister.” He calls, stepping into the room, stepping through the heavy doors and letting them close behind him. It’s a close thing, but he only looks to the side as Madam Pomfrey shoves a bar of chocolate into Harry’s mouth to shut him up—something about the Confundus?—as he looks between Professor Snape and the Minister himself.
“Ah, yes? And who-” The Minister starts, only for the Professor to answer his question.
“Mister Nott, are you injured?” He asks, taking a step forward, eyes scanning his almost pristine clothing.
Theo shakes his head before turning to face the Minister fully, “The Ancient House of Nott demands that the Ministry recall all Dementors from Hogwarts. And to rescind the Kiss on Sight Order.”
The words barely finish leaving his mouth before Snape’s face twists from the concerned look he’d had a moment ago into a sneer worse than he’s ever seen directed towards Harry or Longbottom. All the while, the Minister blusters and sputters like a tap with faulty pressure.
“When did you come into contact with Black?” He snarls, stepping even closer as his black eyes try to look into his own. Theo only spares him a confused look, wondering why he thinks he’d been in contact with the man, before refocusing on the Minister.
“I haven’t. Is he in the castle again?”
“Yes, dear boy, that’s why I couldn’t possibly—But once the fugitive has been taken-” Fudge starts, wringing his hands along the brim of his bowler hat.
“My father and our allies won’t take kindly to you refusing an order from the Wizengamot, Minister.”
Fudge worries his lip, looking at him with wide eyes before they dart around to Professor Snape and then towards Harry. Everyone's eyes snap over to Snape as he practically growls and then scoffs.
“Clearly, Black has used his family magic to Confund everyone in this school.” He says as the doors to the Hospital Wing open and the Headmaster walks in.
“I can assure you, Severus, that he has not.” His twinkling blue eyes snap to Theo before glancing between Harry and his friends. “I have spoken with Mr. Black and I must ask to speak to Harry and Ms. Granger alone-”
“Absolutely not!” Madam Pomfrey yells, trying once more to tend to her patients.
“Albus I can’t see why-”
“Minister,” Theo says once more, his voice hardened and only raised slightly. “You would not enjoy the consequences the Wizengamot can bring if you do not comply.”
Dumbledore sighs, looking at him with pity. “While I am sure the Wizengamot would enjoy seeing swift justice, this would not be it, Mr. Nott.”
“I am certain that it is.”
“Albus, Mr. Nott has-”
“Heir Nott for now, Minister.” He says in a clipped tone
“Yes, of course, Heir Nott has demanded—”
“You cannot be thinking of listening to a child!” Snape bellows.
Theo spares him a glance, fascinated at how unhinged the man is acting. Not once before has he heard of, much less seen, his Head of House acting out in this way. Madness is easy to shy away from. He takes a quiet breath.
“If he was in his right mind, he would not be advocating for a murderer to run free!”
“Are you well, Professor?” He asks blandly if genuinely, as he almost comes off as bored, “There are spells to check if you feel the need. However, Minister, that does not change what the Wizengamot will be requesting before sunrise.”
“What did your Father ask you to relay, Mr. Nott?” Dumbledore asks, his hand raising being the only thing to stop Professor Snape’s ranting. It wasn’t a silencing charm, Theo is sure of it, surely his debt doesn’t run that deep? “Surely you can see that execution is not something to be condoned?”
“Not in this case.” Theo says, feeling an odd delight curl against his spine as Dumbledore looks genuinely confused for a moment, before it turns wary.
“Ah, it was Lord Nott who asked this?” The Minister asks, turning to Theo with something like hope in his eyes, oblivious to the Headmaster’s incorrect assumptions.
“It is a demand made by my House. The bearer of it matters very little, I am sure you’re aware.” The Minister pales, and out of the corner of his eye, Theo see’s Dumbledore’s lips thin slightly.
“If I may know… what request you have made, Mr. Nott.”
“I’m sure the Minister can inform you if he needs help from the Headmaster or Chief Warlock.” He says, turning slightly to look at the man's beard for a moment before turning back to the Minister expectantly.
“Well-yes, but we shouldn’t—and what would the public think—” He seems to waiver under his gaze until he nods decisively. “We’ll take him in. We can’t possibly go against what the House’s wish.”
Snape, his leash no longer holding, snarls once more. “You would listen to a child? One who thinks he knows what this murderer is capable of? He will be loose before the night is over if he is not dealt with!”
“Severus he has no killed-”
“He attempted it at 16! Surely he has not made you so addled that you have forgotten that? And what of the Potters, and Pettigrew?” Theo watches as the Minister looks at the Professor in confusion, with Dumbledore’s eyes sharpening.
“I fear that I remember these events clearer than you do.”
Snape scoffs, “So you believe in children's stories too? Of the dead coming back to life?”
“I find that they hold lessons that many of us forget as we grow older.” Theo follows his line of sight, brows furrowing as they land on Harry. Why would Harry’s view of children's stories matter? “But, if the Minister will be listening to young Mr. Nott?”
Theo tunes out the Minister’s blundering, the platitudes Dumbledore says to him, before turning chiding words onto Professor Snape. Instead, he looks past them to Harry, quickly scanning his pale face as the chocolate seems to revitalize him. It’s not perfect, he thinks, but he should be safer now. He leaves the room shortly after, feeling an unlikely trio watching him. One, at least, he feels comfortable with.
“I want a trade.”
Mikael pauses, quill hovered over the ink well, before slowly being dipped in. He finishes the line he was on in his response. Writes another. And only then, after three minutes of carefully choosing his words, does he set the quill aside to look at Theo properly. Their eyes don’t meet, but each of them roams the other's face, looking for tells, wondering why the request was made and if it will be honored.
“Why?”
“You have answers I need, father.” Theo doesn’t say more, can’t compel anything the way Mikael can.
Chapter 5 is up, and honestly I had plans for, like, two entire other scenes to be in this chapter, but it just ends in such a nice way that I just let the chapter end there.
The thing is done, and within a month too! Go me lol
“What he-” His Aunt seems to buffer before her expression hardens. She squints, straightening up to tower over him while a much more normal sneer crawls into being across her lips. “What who gave you.”
“Voldemort. I’m not going to use anything that the person who kill my parents- ”
