words - july 23 - tomarry - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 180
Over the course of their extensive tests and invasive questioning, the Unspeakables used progressively disheartening words to describe his situation.
Some annoying, masochistic part of Harry’s brain kept diligent track, kicking and screaming against the current carrying him toward the inevitable conclusion, hurtling over the cliff’s edge.
Fascinating, became unheard of, became worrisome, became risky, until the pièce de résistance which coaxed his magic forth, lashing out in fear, in rage, in desperation.
Irreversible.
A year. Not even that. And then… something. Or nothing. They couldn’t say for sure, could only offer sympathetic looks and meaningless platitudes about enjoying the time he had left, pretending the noose around his neck wasn’t a death sentence.
The Potters took him home, let him keep their shared last name, and did their best to cheer him up. Spoke of family and Hogwarts and everything that had once offered a glimmer of warmth, had once been worth fighting for.
Harry eventually began to listen.
All because Graham had let slip the names of the new Head Girl and Boy.
Niamh Campbell.
And Tom Riddle.
