harry-thechosenone-potter-blog - Tumblr blog

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I'm also scooting to my personal (I'm addicted I'm soRRY)

Rina, bb, you know where I am.

Good night!

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Haaaaaaarrrrry

SSSSSSSGGGGGGGGGZ

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Do I even exist?

I'd like to think so

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What if I just flew away?

On a broom?

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On a scale from Dad to me how good of a dresser are you?

I...don't know how to answer this, Sev.

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Harry nodded, noting that Ron and Owana's marriage was the best he had ever known. Even Bill and Fleur didn't seem to click the way his sister and best mate did. He sighed, "No use crying over spilt milk," he told her, feigning resignation. The sooner Owana believed he was over it, the sooner she would stop worrying. "Speaking of milk, can I get you anything? Food? Drink? Firewhiskey?"

He furrowed his brows and nodded, the depth of his sister’s words singeing him through to his core. He looked into her eyes—the eyes that were so distinct and rare and shared by only one other living person—himself. Looking at his sister’s eyes had always calmed...

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Harry was alnost sympathetic for the boy until he stated a harsh, 'I'm not your mate,' returning to an all-business stance. Harry frowned, shaking the boy's hand.

Harry blanched. Voldemort had showed them magic? Of course, old Riddle would never give up an opportunity to show off, but he could only imagine what Milligan had seen. Cruciatus Curse, perhaps? That was a favorite of Voldemort's. Harry's blood boiled at the realization thay Voldemort had probably practices it on one of them...

He nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, of course. Uh, here." They were close enough to the forbidden forest that they were well outside of the anti-apparition enchantment on the school grounds. Keeping hold of Adam's hand, he apparated, reappearing deep in the center of the forest.

The sounds of the battle were weak, but his anxiety rose with his blood pressure. What if someone needed him? Ron? Hermione? Luna? Ginny? What if this Adam guy was setting him up for a trap?

Squashing his fears, he asked, "Are you okay? I remember my first apparition was...was not pleasant."

The soldier in Harry felt his eyes harden at the challenge, but the pacifist in him softened at the fact that Adam clearly wasn’t here to kill him. No, being ‘half-Winchester’ meant nothing to him—he thought perhaps Winchester was a surname that meant something in...

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He furrowed his brows and nodded, the depth of his sister's words singeing him through to his core. He looked into her eyes--the eyes that were so distinct and rare and shared by only one other living person--himself. Looking at his sister's eyes had always calmed him, and the effect still hadn't worn off even into their early twenties. He was even able to smile.

"There were warning signs. I should have caught them..." His gaze fell, and he was frowning again. "I could have fixed it."

He tensed as she continued her tirade. He didn’t understand her anger at Luna. Anger at him, maybe, because he was the one who lost her. He was the one who couldn’t het his grip long enough to maintain a relationship. This wasn’t Luna’s fault. If anything, Harry...

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The soldier in Harry felt his eyes harden at the challenge, but the pacifist in him softened at the fact that Adam clearly wasn't here to kill him. No, being 'half-Winchester' meant nothing to him--he thought perhaps Winchester was a surname that meant something in the States, or at the very least the Hunter network. He lowered his wand slowly, keeping his eye on Milligan's weapon...just in case."

"That's a long story, mate," he chuckled, his fingers automatically touching the scar on his forehead. "But if I tell you my story, I want to hear about this half-Winchester business. Deal?" He offered his hand to shake, wondering if the innocent gesture was suicidal of him.

Harry had his wand drawn before the boy had even reached him, “I’m warning you, this could do a whole hell of a lot more damage than that knife.” He looked into the boy’s piercing blue gaze—not unlike Dumbledore’s—and was at a loss for what to say. He wasn’t...

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He tensed as she continued her tirade. He didn't understand her anger at Luna. Anger at him, maybe, because he was the one who lost her. He was the one who couldn't het his grip long enough to maintain a relationship. This wasn't Luna's fault. If anything, Harry was happy for Luna for getting away from him.

He gasped quietly when his sister hugged him, not used to the physical comfort, but he brought his arms around her anyway, returning the embrace. "Thanks," he said blandly, his mouth going dry at the finality of it. "It's...really over....isn't it."

Harry couldn’t take what she was saying to heart, too emotionally exhausted by finding the letter earlier that day. He sighed, “You’re my sister, and Ron and Hermione, they went through what we went through. They’ve been with us since day one. Luna…Luna didn’t...

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Harry had his wand drawn before the boy had even reached him, "I'm warning you, this could do a whole hell of a lot more damage than that knife." He looked into the boy's piercing blue gaze--not unlike Dumbledore's--and was at a loss for what to say. He wasn't surprised at all that the boy brandishing a weapon at him knew his name. Muggle or not, in this war, you knew who he was. However he wasn't expecting the enemy to give him his name in return.

"I--well...what?" He said incredulously, srraightening his posture and standing to sqaurely face 'Adam Milligan.' "You'd like to speak to me while there's a war going on, is this an American tactic?" He prodded, noting his accent.

Harry saw them before he saw the shrouded figure that was the star of his nightmares. Tall, brooding young men and hardened young women standing a wide stance apart, just as Harry suspected—a defensive stance. The one closest to him—a blonde girl with a shining,...

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Harry couldn't take what she was saying to heart, too emotionally exhausted by finding the letter earlier that day. He sighed, "You're my sister, and Ron and Hermione, they went through what we went through. They've been with us since day one. Luna...Luna didn't understand. Says so in the note. She was very apologetic in the letter..." He said as if that excused her. "I don't blame her for wanting out."

Harry was stoic as Owana read, expression as unreadable as Tom Riddle’s diary. He knew the moment Owana was finished when she fisted the parchment, and she clenched his heart right with it. She quickly straightened it out, though, and with each smoothed crease, he...

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Harry saw them before he saw the shrouded figure that was the star of his nightmares. Tall, brooding young men and hardened young women standing a wide stance apart, just as Harry suspected--a defensive stance. The one closest to him--a blonde girl with a shining, silver gun in her hand, noticed him and had her gun raised in an almost automatic gesture. These hunters were deadlier than he thought. Their reflexes were inhuman.

He pulled his wand just as fast, "Petrificus totalus!" He whisper-shouted, a beam of light striking right through her chest as she fell to the ground, tense as a board.

Great, now he was definitely going to be noticed. He stashed his wand and jumped into a clump of bushes, crouching in the dirt.

Red.

The color red was everywhere. Blood. Magic. Anger. It all clouded his vision as he ran, his heart pounding as his body poured sweat. He could hear the voices of his colleagues and enemies, the shouts of victory and anguish filled the air and permeated his...

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He looked at her appraisingly as the bartender slid them another drink. "I'm not sure how he couldn't fall in love with you. You're beautiful, you can hold a conversation, and you loved him. I can't see how he could have possibly let you go." He took a deep pull from his glass, "He's a bloody idiot, I can tell you that."

He nodded in agreement, “I’d toast to that, if you hadn’t just drained your poison.” He smirked, signalling the barkeep. “Another round, please.” He ordered, taking the rest of his drink in one gulp as well. “This…Dean. Were you together long?”

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Harry was stoic as Owana read, expression as unreadable as Tom Riddle's diary. He knew the moment Owana was finished when she fisted the parchment, and she clenched his heart right with it. She quickly straightened it out, though, and with each smoothed crease, he found it easier to breathe.

"I can't blame her," he told her, eyes still trained on the back of the letter. "I'm broken. Used up. Guess she got tired of the breakdowns and night terrors." His cheeks were raw with salt and strain and his eyes felt too dry when he blinked.

Harry could feel Owana’s worry rolling off of her in sharp, tangible waves, grating his skin as she walked by him. Instead of answering her, he handed her the letter, knowing it would explain better than he could.

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He nodded, "Yea h, I can imagine. If he knew anything about the two of tou, he'd have never separated you though. Ron's always performed better when he's around friends, we've known that since first year."

Harry laughed, “Ah, of course. I’ll definitely have a talk with him. Though, since I’m back you won’t have to worry anymore.”

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The War (Adam)

Red.

The color red was everywhere. Blood. Magic. Anger. It all clouded his vision as he ran, his heart pounding as his body poured sweat. He could hear the voices of his colleagues and enemies, the shouts of victory and anguish filled the air and permeated his bones. Voldemort's voice had just ended it's P.A.-like announcement, and activity had slowed, but not ceased. Several of hos classmates had taken advantage of the dumbstruck Death Eaters, and some claimed success. Others...

He had heard from one very-gruesome and incapacitated Death Eater than Voldemort had added Hunters to his ranks. Muggles that sought and killed supernatural creatures, and had somehow convinced them that what he was doing was right and good. He wondered idly if he was just using them as an army of flesh shields so it would be harder to kill him.

He wondered if they could be saved.