#I'D KNOW THOSE VELVET TONES ANYWHERE

[coldflasher]

i just got an ad for ring doorbells on youtube and i swear to god it was wentworth doing the voicover

[alphamales-rp]

"That was naughty of you, Connor," Alexander said, the corner of his lips turning up in a smirk, "Go ... where?" he asked, then openly reaching behind himself and locking the door, pulling the key out and sliding it into his pocket, "No, Connor," he smiled, even laughing lightly and shaking his head, "Session's not over," he began to stalk slowly towards the smaller, younger man, "You weren't supposed to find out like this," he sighed, "I had something really romantic planned," he added but shook his head, "But that's okay- I know how curious you are so I can't be mad, can I?" It was obvious that there was no guilt to be found anywhere in Alexander. No panic either, that the other might escape and tell his secret. Nothing for the stalking, nor the killings. If anything, there seemed a funny kind of relief and joy radiating from him now that Connor had more pieces to the puzzle than he'd had before. A new surge of confidence, if anything.

"I was gonna wait until I'd taken care of the last of those pathetic retches but I'll still get to them, don't worry," he was now close enough to reach out and cup the side of Connor's face, "I'll make sure that they all get punished for what they put you through," he said, his tone soft, that velvet-like quality to the deep, warm and inviting tone to his voice made it hard for most to resist. "I'm not gonna hurt you- and on a deep level, you already know that," he said, brushing some of Connor's hair lightly out of his face, "After all, think about it - how much have the two of us been alone? If I'd wanted to hurt you, I would've had plenty of chances to do it already." He smiled comfortingly, "Listen, you didn't even really like those people and I only did what I did because you were being bullied and I just wanted to protect you, darling," he let out another deep breath, "I just couldn't stand them doing that to you anymore."

"And before you freak out about the other stuff," he said, chuckling again as though all of what Connor had now discovered was harmless, "Well, you know how you said that despite everything going on, you felt like you had a guardian angel? Because there were these small moments of happiness - random things that would brighten your day?" he tried to gently remind the other, "Like how, sometimes you'd get to the campus coffee corner and there'd already be your order waiting for you? Or you'd find flowers at your doorstep?" he smiled, "That was me, darling. I'm your guardian angel." He took the other's hand into his own, larger palms, both warm to the touch, "I know it's a lot to take in, but just breathe and take it slow, okay?"

It didn't feel right to breach the mutual trust he'd established with Alexander, to take a glimpse into the counselor's notes that were supposed to be confidential, protected even from the curiousity of the subject himself. But their exchange had been so weirdly unsettling that Connor couldn't help but look for some answers. He needed to know if there truly was something completely messed up with himself, if he had grown so delusional that he couldn't see the truth anymore - or if Alexander's suggestion to be grateful towards the torturer and murderer of his friends was in fact as insane as it sounded to his ears.

He wasn't sure what he was even looking for, what he expected to find in the other man's notes - but the file's actual contents were most definitely not it. No speculations on Connor being a psychotic killer, or anything close to that. Instead, a ton of details on every aspect of his life that the student was sure he had not disclosed in their sessions. Why would his coffee order or his shaving routine be of any relevance to his anxiety? It left him confused, but he didn't start feeling truly concerned until the word hypnosis popped up. Whatever was described there had never happened - at least as far as Connor's consciousness was concerned. What the fuck had Alexander done? If Connor had felt like he was losing control of his life, this revelation surely was the icing on the cake.

He only skimmed the files on his friends, barely noticing the meticulous detail as his brain was not ready to even consider the conclusions he maybe should've jumped to. They didn't seem relevant as more than mentioned characters in Connor's story, and honestly the young man was fully focused now on why Alexander's treatment of him appeared so very unorthodox - and frankly, invasive. So with a bite of his lip, he shifted his attention to the laptop; it was almost a relief when the first attempt to use his own name as the password turned up unsuccessful. However, it did not take many more guesses to unlock the device, and cold shivers ran down Connor's spine by now as he realized his birthday - that of just one of many students, technically - protected all this sensitive information. He was starting to get a hint of Alexander's true feelings about him; of course, those feelings were more than confirmed just moments later when Connor found the file with his initials. And felt his stomach turn.

He didn't even have time to really take all of it in; he browsed the images and videos, not even grasping the full extent to which the counselor was stalking him. He didn't even notice the links that would've shown him the hidden cameras in his room; a single thumbnail of a clip that very obviously showed him masturbating was enough to ring every last alarm bell in Connor's mind. Looking up, he got ready to run out the door, and - Fuck. "A-Alexander..." How long had the man been back? How long had he watched Connor discover all this? Instinctively, the student stepped back, backing himself into the corner furthest away from Alexander. "I... g-gotta go", he spoke shakily, hoping to find a gap to get past the other and out of this office. Whoever had been speaking to Alex outside probably was still nearby; if only he could get out of this room, he might be safe from... whatever all this was. "T-Thanks for the session. I feel better already", he lied - badly.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars CXLII (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: I think this week’s chapters are the most boring out of all the book, but hang in there it gets better -Danny

Words: 4,940

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Chapter Four: Horace Slughorn.

Mel stumbled onto a bench and inhaled sharply.

"Wizards should just drive!" She panted.

"We drive," Erick said. "I drove you here, didn't I?"

"I was there during your lessons, don't try to show off with me," Mel grumbled.

"Dumbledore and Harry are over there — C'mon..."

"Professor?" She heard Harry asked once they caught up with them.

"Harry?"

"Er — where exactly are we?"

"This, Harry, is the charming village of Budleigh Babberton."

"And what are we doing here?"

"Ah yes, of course, I haven't told you! Well, I have lost count of the number of times I have said this in recent years, but we are, once again, one member of staff short. We are here to persuade an old colleague of mine to come out of retirement and return to Hogwarts. I sent Erick and Mel to look for his whereabouts and they told me he'd be here, let's hope they're right."

"How can I help with that, sir?"

"Oh, I think we'll find a use for the three of you," Dumbledore replied. "Left here."

Mel scoffed and Erick nudged her arm muttering a warning.

"Professor, why couldn't we just Apparate directly into your old colleague's house?"

"Because it would be quite as rude as kicking down the front door. Courtesy dictates that we offer fellow wizards the opportunity of denying us entry. In any case, most Wizarding dwellings are magically protected from unwanted Apparators. At Hogwarts, for instance —"

"— you can't Apparate anywhere inside the buildings or grounds," said Harry. "Hermione Granger told me."

"And she is quite right. We turn left again."

The clock behind them announced midnight, Mel felt a chill ran down her spine and held Erick closer. She was abruptly reminded of the dementors, and she had no wish to see one right now.

"Sir, I saw in the Daily Prophet that Fudge has been sacked..."

"Correct," said Dumbledore, "He has been replaced, as I am sure you also saw, by Rufus Scrimgeour, who used to be Head of the Auror office."

"Is he... Do you think he's good?"

"An interesting question. He is able, certainly. A more decisive and forceful personality than Cornelius."

"Yes, but I meant —"

"I know what you meant. Rufus is a man of action and, having fought Dark wizards for most of his working life, does not underestimate Lord Voldemort."

"And... sir... I saw about Madam Bones."

"Yes... A terrible loss. She was a great witch — Just up here, I think — ouch," Dumbledore looked down to his injured hand with disinterest and lowered it.

"Professor, what happened to your —?"

"I have no time to explain now," said Dumbledore. "It is a thrilling tale, I wish to do it justice."

"Sir — I got a Ministry of Magic leaflet by owl, about security measures we should all take against the Death Eaters..."

"Yes, I received one myself... Did you find it useful?"

"Not really."

"No, I thought not. You have not asked me, for instance, what is my favorite flavor of jam, to check that I am indeed Professor Dumbledore and not an impostor."

"I didn't..." Harry turned to look at her with mild panic, Mel found it amusing.

"Oh well, he came to my house first and I didn't ask him either, but Erick was the one who let him in."

"I'm sorry I put you all in danger," Erick replied playfully.

"For future reference, children, it is raspberry... although of course, if I were a Death Eater, I would have been sure to research my own jam preferences before impersonating myself."

"Er... right," Harry shrugged. "Well, on that leaflet, it said something about Inferi. What exactly are they? The leaflet wasn't very clear."

"They are corpses. Dead bodies that have been bewitched to do a Dark wizard's bidding. Inferi have not been seen for a long time, however, not since Voldemort was last powerful... He killed enough people to make an army of them, of course. This is the place, just here..."

"Like zombies?" Mel said.

"Those things are stupid and slow," Erick replied. "The inferi are nothing like that, trust me."

Once Mel caught sight of the house, she gasped.

"Oh dear. Oh dear, dear, dear." Dumbledore got closer and examined the scene:

Harry followed his gaze up the carefully tended front path and felt his heart sink. The front door was hanging off its hinges.

"Wand out and follow me," He said. "Mr Flint, keep guard on the entrance..."

"Of course," He walked away, Mel wanted to stay and watch over him, but she knew that would hurt Erick's ego, so she held onto her own wand tightly and walked away from him.

"Lumos..."

Everything was wrecked inside the house, but there was something weird about it... it was too peaceful.

"Not pretty, is it?" Dumbledore asked. "Yes, something horrible has happened here."

Mel got closer to the stain on the wall and gawked at the smell. It was really strong and brought back a clear memory of Hagrid holding a chunk of dragon meat to his swollen eye.

"Maybe there was a fight and — and they dragged him off?" Harry said behind her, his voice trembling a little.

"I don't think so..." said Dumbledore. "Mel, what do you think?"

"This isn't human," She said, pointing to the bloodstain, "and the place is empty, if a fight had taken place here the muggles would've come to check on their neighbours, so either this just happened or he's..."

"Still here somewhere?" Dumbledore concluded. "Yes. A very good observation."

Then, without a warning, the old man stabbed the armchair next to him.

"Ouch!" It yelped.

"Good evening, Horace."

"There was no need to stick the wand in that hard," He huffed. "It hurt."

The wandlight sparkled on his shiny pate, his prominent eyes, his enormous, silver, walruslike mustache, and the highly polished buttons on the maroon velvet jacket he was wearing over a pair of lilac silk pajamas. The top of his head barely reached Dumbledore's chin.

"What gave it away?"

"My dear Horace," said Dumbledore, "if the Death Eaters really had come to call, the Dark Mark would have been set over the house! And of course, the non-magic people would've come to see what was happening, as Mel kindly explained a moment ago."

"The Dark Mark," Horace hit his forehead with one hand. "Knew there was something... ah well. Wouldn't have had time anyway, I'd only just put the finishing touches to my upholstery when you entered the room."

"Would you like my assistance clearing up?"

"Please..."

They moved around the room and fixed everything in a matter of seconds as if this was the kind of stuff a wizard would normally do on a Friday.

"What kind of blood was that, incidentally?" asked Dumbledore.

"Dragon's," Mel replied.

They stared at her.

"How did you know?" Her uncle questioned.

"Hagrid used its meat last year to heal his eye," She explained, scrunching up her nose. "It has a very distinctive smell."

"These," said Dumbledore, smiling at her, "are Harry Potter and Mel Dumbledore. Children, this is an old friend and colleague of mine, Horace Slughorn."

"Oho! So that's how you thought you'd persuade me, is it? Well, the answer's no, Albus," Slughorn pushed past them avoiding eye contact. He froze and stared out the window. "Oh dear — Albus, I think you were followed!"

"You mean that young man?" Dumbledore glanced out to the garden. "Mel, could you please bring Erick inside?"

"Sure," She replied.

As soon as Erick heard her, he turned.

"What happened in there? Is he..?"

"Alive," Mel brushed it off. "Apparently this whole act was a security measure — Dumbledore said you could come in but I recommend you to fix yourself first."

"Why?"

"We're bait," She explained while adjusting his coat. "I know why he brought us... Slughorn must be important if he's playing this dirty..."

"What do you mean?"

"Just act as posh as possible," Mel sighed, patting his cheek lovingly. "It should be easy for you."

Erick followed her inside and both sat next to Harry on the couch, the three of them displayed in plain sight so Slughorn had to look at them.

"Hmpf," He studied them before forcing his eyes to look away. "Here —"

He gave the drinks to Dumbledore and then put the tray on Harry's lap rather forcefully. He looked at Erick again.

"I should introduce you," Mel said. "Mr Slughorn, this is Erick Flint, a very good friend of mine. Erick, this is Horace Slughorn, a very dear friend of my uncle's."

"Nice to meet you," Erick stood up and shook the man's hand with a firm grip and a confident tone.

"Hmpf," Slughorn said again.

"Well, how have you been keeping, Horace?" Dumbledore asked.

"Not so well," said Slughorn. "Weak chest. Wheezy. Rheumatism too. Can't move like I used to. Well, that's to be expected. Old age. Fatigue."

"And yet you must have moved fairly quickly to prepare such a welcome for us at such short notice — You can't have had more than three minutes' warning?"

"Two. Didn't hear my Intruder Charm go off, I was taking a bath. Still," He added hastily, "the fact remains that I'm an old man, Albus. A tired old man who's earned the right to a quiet life and a few creature comforts."

"You're not yet as old as I am, Horace," Dumbledore commented.

"Well, maybe you ought to think about retirement yourself," said Slughorn, quickly glancing at Dumbledore's injured hand. "Reactions not what they were, I see."

"You're quite right," said Dumbledore showing a bit more of his hand to them. "I am undoubtedly slower than I was. But on the other hand..."

He shrugged and spread his hands wide, as though to say that age had its compensations, and Harry noticed a ring on his uninjured hand that he had never seen Dumbledore wear before:

It was large, rather clumsily made of what looked like gold, and was set with a heavy black stone that had cracked down the middle. Slughorn's eyes lingered for a moment on the ring too, and Harry saw a tiny frown momentarily crease his wide forehead.

"So, all these precautions against intruders, Horace... are they for the Death Eaters' benefit, or mine?"

"What would the Death Eaters want with a poor broken-down old buffer like me?"

"I imagine that they would want you to turn your considerable talents to coercion, torture, and murder... Are you really telling me that they haven't come recruiting yet?"

Mel felt Erick tensing next to her, she was sure Slughorn wouldn't appreciate knowing that they'd managed to take down two death eaters outside his house a few hours ago, all because Dumbledore had sent them to spy on him.

"I haven't given them the chance. I've been on the move for a year. Never stay in one place more than a week. Move from Muggle house to Muggle house — the owners of this place are on holiday in the Canary Islands — it's been very pleasant, I'll be sorry to leave. It's quite easy once you know how, one simple Freezing Charm on these absurd burglar alarms they use instead of Sneakoscopes and make sure the neighbors don't spot you bringing in the piano."

"Ingenious," said Dumbledore. "But it sounds a rather tiring existence for a broken-down old buffer in search of a quiet life. Now, if you were to return to Hogwarts —"

"If you're going to tell me my life would be more peaceful at that pestilential school, you can save your breath, Albus! I might have been in hiding, but some funny rumors have reached me since Dolores Umbridge left! If that's how you treat teachers these days —"

"Professor Umbridge ran afoul of our centaur herd," said Dumbledore. "I think you, Horace, would have known better than to stride into the forest and call a horde of angry centaurs 'filthy half- breeds.'"

"That's what she did, did she?" Slughorn scoffed. "Idiotic woman. Never liked her."

Harry let out a short laugh and everyone looked at him.

"Sorry," He said. "It's just — I didn't like her either."

"No wonder why," Mel nodded. "She mistreated all of her students — We had to teach ourselves! It's a wonder how I even passed my O.W.L. for that class."

"As if you didn't know you'll get an 'O' in every subject," Erick replied with amusement.

"If I did it wasn't thanks to her," She shrugged.

Dumbledore stood up.

"Are you leaving?" asked Slughorn.

"No, I was wondering whether I might use your bathroom..."

"Oh," Slughorn visibly deflated. "Second on the left down the hall."

After ten seconds of heavy silence, Slughorn got to his feet and turned his back on them, staring into the fireplace.

"Don't think I don't know why he's brought you," He said.

Harry stared at the man silently, Erick remained in place while Mel stood up and looked around the room.

"You look very like your parents," Slughorn told them.

"Yeah, I've been told," Harry replied.

"Except for your eyes. You've got —"

"My mother's eyes, yeah."

"Hmpf. Yes, well. You shouldn't have favourites as a teacher, of course, but she was one of mine. Your mother, Lily Evans. One of the brightest I ever taught. Vivacious, you know. Charming girl. I used to tell her she ought to have been in my House. Very cheeky answers I used to get back too."

"Which was your House?"

"I was Head of Slytherin," Mel turned abruptly in surprise. "Oh, now, don't go holding that against me! You'll be Gryffindor like your folks, I suppose? Yes, it usually goes in families. Not always, though. Ever heard of Sirius Black? You must have done — been in the papers for the last couple of years — died a few weeks ago — Well, anyway, he was a big pal of your fathers at school. The whole Black family had been in my House, but Sirius ended up in Gryffindor! Shame — he was a talented boy. I got his brother, Regulus, when he came along, but I'd have liked the set."

"I wasn't judging you," Mel replied. "Erick's a Slytherin, and he's our friend. He's a Prefect as well, and bound to be the Headboy this year..."

"I see," Slughorn eyed him up. "Eliot Flint's grandson? I met him during my school years... great man he was, I'm sorry to hear about his passing, how are your parents?"

"I wouldn't know, Sir," Erick smiled tensely. "They threw me out of the house after they discovered my correspondence with a muggle."

"He's living with me," Mel added.

Slughorn nodded.

"I remember when your mother made peace with Miss Evans, the two of them were a thing to fear! Your mother was Muggle-born, of course, Harry. Couldn't believe it when I found out. Thought she must have been pure-blood, she was so good."

"One of our best friends is Muggle-born," said Harry. "and she's the best in our year."

"Funny how that sometimes happens, isn't it?"

"Not really," He said coldly.

Slughorn looked at them like he'd just realized his mistake.

"You mustn't think I'm prejudiced! No, no, no! Haven't I just said your mother was one of my all-time favourite students? And there was Dirk Cresswell in the year after her too — now Head of the Goblin Liaison Office, of course — another Muggle-born, a very gifted student, and still gives me excellent inside information on the goings-on at Gringotts!"

He pointed to the bunch of photographs on the dresser.

"All ex-students, all signed. You'll notice Barnabas Cuffe, editor of the Daily Prophet, he's always interested to hear my take on the day's news. And Ambrosius Flume, of Honeydukes — a hamper every birthday, and all because I was able to give him an introduction to Ciceron Harkiss, who gave him his first job! And at the back — you'll see her if you just crane your neck — that's Gwenog Jones, who of course captains the Holyhead Harpies... People are always astonished to hear I'm on first-name terms with the Harpies, and free tickets whenever I want them!"

"And all these people know where to find you, to send you stuff?" asked Harry with curiosity.

Mel knew he wasn't doing it on purpose, but he was poking in all the right places.

"Of course not," He said gloomily. "I have been out of touch with everybody for a year."

"You must miss it," She said carefully, "your life was really active before you had to hide..."

Slughorn stared at her as if he'd just realized she was right, although he was quick to cover it.

"The prudent wizard keeps his head down in such times. All very well for Dumbledore to talk, but taking up a post at Hogwarts just now would be tantamount to declaring my public allegiance to the Order of the Phoenix! And while I'm sure they're very admirable and brave and all the rest of it, I don't personally fancy the mortality rate —"

"I gave up my old life to help the Order," Erick replied. "I don't think I'll ever regret my decision, I do something worthy, I'm valuable to them."

"And you don't have to join the Order to teach at Hogwarts," Harry sounded upset. "Most of the teachers aren't in it, and none of them has ever been killed — well, unless you count Quirrell, and he got what he deserved seeing as he was working with Voldemort. I reckon the staff are safer than most people while Dumbledore's headmaster; he's supposed to be the only one Voldemort ever feared, isn't he?"

Slughorn pondered their arguments.

"Well, yes, it is true that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has never sought a fight with Dumbledore... And I suppose one could argue that as I have not joined the Death Eaters, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named can hardly count me a friend... in which case, I might well be safer a little closer to Albus... I cannot pretend that Amelia Bones's death did not shake me... If she, with all her Ministry contacts and protection..."

"You know, people think that I'll be safe forever thanks to my blood relations," Mel smiled in the same ironic manner her uncle did. "But in the end... a bloodline, a connection... it's not as efficient as watching your own back. I think you should take every precaution."

Dumbledore walked into the room and Slughorn jumped.

"Oh, there you are, Albus — You've been a very long time. Upset stomach?"

"No, I was merely reading the Muggle magazines, I do love knitting patterns. Well, we have trespassed upon Horace's hospitality quite long enough; I think it is time for us to leave."

Erick and Harry jumped to their feet, Mel calmly made her way to where they were standing.

"You're leaving?" asked Slughorn, this time sounding a bit hurt.

"Yes, indeed. I think I know a lost cause when I see one."

"Lost..?" He stared at Harry closing his jacket and Dumbledore putting on his travelling cloak.

Mel picked up her coat and Erick helped her put it on.

"Well, I'm sorry you don't want the job, Horace," said Dumbledore. "Hogwarts would have been glad to see you back again. Our greatly increased security notwithstanding, you will always be welcome to visit, should you wish to."

"You could've been one of my favourite teachers," Mel sighed, trying to look disappointed. "Well, what can we do?"

"Yes... well... very gracious... as I say..."

"Good-bye, then."

"It was a pleasure to meet you," Erick nodded.

"Bye," said Harry simply.

Mel had barely reached six in her silent countdown when Slughorn stopped them.

"All right, all right, I'll do it!"

She smiled down at her shoes, Dumbledore turned to see him.

"You will come out of retirement?"

"Yes, yes. I must be mad, but yes."

"Wonderful," said her uncle brightly. "Then, Horace, we shall see you on the first of September."

"Yes, I daresay you will," Slughorn huffed.

As they reached the garden, Slughorn shouted the last demand.

"I'll want a pay rise, Dumbledore!"

Her uncle chuckled.

"Well done," He told them.

"We didn't do anything," said Harry frowning.

"Oh yes, you did. You three showed Horace exactly how much he stands to gain by returning to Hogwarts. Did you like him?"

"That's why you said we were bait?" Erick smiled at her. "You clever girl..."

"You say that a lot," Mel replied, clearly pleased with his compliment. "It wasn't that hard to guess after hearing him speak for like, ten seconds... he likes flashy stuff and the three of us are quite dashing..."

"Horace likes his comfort," Dumbledore nodded. "He also likes the company of the famous, the successful, and the powerful. He enjoys the feeling that he influences these people. He has never wanted to occupy the throne himself; he prefers the backseat — more room to spread out, you see. He used to handpick favorites at Hogwarts..."

Dumbledore explained all of Slughorn's way to them, Mel was absently hearing his voice while also looking around anxiously, every dark corner seemed to be watching them, she didn't feel safe. The Slytherin noticed her apprehensive attitude and walked closer to her, their hands brushing.

"Smart," Erick admitted after Dumbledore finished his explanation. "Though a bit... opportunist, may I say..."

"I tell you all this not to turn you against Horace — or, as we must now call him, Professor Slughorn — but to put you on your guard. He will undoubtedly try to collect you. You would be the jewel of his collection; 'the Boy Who Lived'... or, as they call you these days, Harry, 'the Chosen One.' And he wouldn't say no to teaching you, Mel, after all the rumours surrounding your upbringing — As for you, Erick, I daresay it only took one conversation for him to realize you're one of a kind."

They continued until they reached the church, where Dumbledore stopped walking.

"This will do. If you will grasp my arm, Harry. Erick, you know what our next stop is?"

Erick nodded, offering his arm to Mel once more.

"I've only seen the burrow in pictures, so you'll have to hope for the best here, " He told her.

"Brilliant," Mel grimaced. "Can't wait."

She crashed against Harry when landing, both of them fell harshly on the ground and were quickly lifted by the people accompanying them.

"If you don't mind," said Dumbledore. "I'd like a few words with Harry and Mel before we part. In private. Perhaps in here?"

Erick stayed out, making sure no one was close to hear what Dumbledore had to say. Harry and Mel followed the Headmaster to the little closet where the Weasleys used to keep their brooms. Dumbledore conjured a light and smiled at them.

"I hope you will forgive me for mentioning it, but I am pleased and a little proud at how well you seem to be coping after everything that happened at the Ministry. Permit me to say that I think Sirius would have been proud."

Mel fixed her gaze on her feet, she wasn't proud of the way she'd acted during the last term. She'd been selfish and arrogant, and now she was trying her best to make up for it. She didn't feel like she was coping well with her loss either, more like ignoring all her thoughts to remain sane.

"It was cruel," Dumbledore continued, "that you and Sirius had such a short time together. A brutal ending to what should have been a long and happy relationship, and a loving family."

The silence lasted for a few seconds, then Harry spoke:

"It's just hard," He said, "to realize he won't write to me again..."

She stared at the poorly lit face of her friend, his eyes were looking up to the ceiling, suddenly she remembered that Harry was, perhaps, lonelier than her. Maybe that was one of the reasons why he wanted to keep their lifeline, it was nice to have something tying them together.

She wanted to tell him they didn't need the connection for that, but if she was honest, she wasn't sure.

"Sirius represented much to you that you had never known before. Naturally, the loss is devastating..."

"But while I was at the Dursleys'..." Harry interrupted in a firmer voice. "I realized I can't shut myself away or — or crack up. Sirius wouldn't have wanted that, would he? And anyway, life's too short... Look at Madam Bones, look at Emmeline Vance... It could be me next, couldn't it? But if it is, I'll make sure I take as many Death Eaters with me as I can, and Voldemort too if I can manage it."

The feeling she'd get whenever Harry would step into his role of the tragic hero fell upon her like a kick in the face — She couldn't blame him for being brave, but she was a tad upset that he wasn't making things easier for her troubled heart.

"You still have a family, though," Mel reached out for his hand shyly and held it. "You have reasons to stay alive."

"Spoken both like your parent's children and Sirius's true godson! I take my hat off to you — or I would, if I were not afraid of showering you in spiders... Now, Harry, on a closely related subject... I gather that you have been taking the Daily Prophet over the last two weeks?"

"Yes."

"Then you will have seen that there have been not so much leaks as floods concerning your adventure in the Hall of Prophecy?"

"Yes. And now everyone knows that I'm the one —"

"No, they do not. There are only three people in the whole world who know the full contents of the prophecy made about you and Lord Voldemort, and they are standing in this smelly, spidery broom shed. It is true, however, that many have guessed, correctly, that Voldemort sent his Death Eaters to steal a prophecy, and that the prophecy concerned you. Now, I think I am correct in saying that you have not told anybody that you know what the prophecy said?"

"No," said Harry.

"Of course not," Mel said with a bit of outrage.

"A wise decision, on the whole. Although I think you ought to relax it in favor of your friends, Mr Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger. Yes, I think they ought to know. You do them a disservice by not confiding something this important to them."

"I didn't want —"

"— to worry or frighten them? Or perhaps, to confess that you yourself are worried and frightened? You need your friends. As you so rightly said, Sirius would not have wanted you to shut yourself away. On a different, though related, subject, it is my wish that you take private lessons with me this year."

"Private — with you?" Harry's eyes widened. "Like Mel?"

"Yes. I think it is time that I took a greater hand in your education. And fortunately, Mel has completed her lessons with me, so that gives me enough time to focus on you."

"What will you be teaching me, sir?"

"Oh, a little of this, a little of that," said Dumbledore.

"If I'm having lessons with you, I won't have to do Occlumency lessons with Snape, will I?"

Mel snorted, but she quickly turned it into a cough.

"Professor Snape, Harry — and no, you will not."

"Good, because they were a —"

Mel stepped on his foot, successfully shutting him up before he could continue.

"I think the word 'fiasco' would be a good one here," Dumbledore sighed.

"Well, that means I won't see much of Professor Snape from now on," He said happily, "because he won't let me carry on Potions unless I get 'Outstanding' in my O.W.L., which I know I haven't."

"Don't count your owls before they are delivered," said Dumbledore. "Which, now I think of it, ought to be some time later today. Now, a few more things before we part. Firstly, I wish you to keep your Invisibility Cloak with you at all times from this moment onward. Even within Hogwarts itself. Just in case, you understand me?"

Harry nodded.

"While you stay here, the Burrow has been given the highest security the Ministry of Magic can provide. These measures have caused a certain amount of inconvenience to Arthur and Molly — all their post, for instance, is being searched at the Ministry before being sent on. They do not mind in the slightest, for their only concern is your safety. However, it would be poor repayment if you risked your neck while staying with them. This goes to you too, Mel, since they agreed to take in Emily and young Regulus for the rest of the year."

"I understand."

"Me too," Mel nodded.

"And lastly," He looked at them carefully. "Have you made a decision on the lifeline?"

"Yes —"

"— No."

Harry and Mel looked at each other again, both exasperated.

"What do you mean 'no'?" The boy frowned.

"I—I," She stammered. "I... need more time."

"But you —"

"We haven't talked," She insisted. "We can't just make the decision without talking first, can we? Otherwise, who knows if the spell might work?"

Harry wanted to argue against it, but he knew she was right.

"Very well, then," Dumbledore opened the shed door. "I see a light in the kitchen. Let us not deprive Molly any longer of the chance to deplore how thin you are, Harry."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha​​​ @vampiregirl1797​​​ @siriuslysirius1107​​​ @stardusthigh​​​ @mikariell95​​​ @vernon-dursley​​​ @thesuitelifeofafangirl​​​ @tomshollandz​​​ ​​ @reverse-hxlland​​​ @hamiltonwc​​​ @omiwashere​​​ @t-rexs-world​​​ @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @21bruhs​​​ @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @dielgonacoffee​​​ @thelastpyle​​ @cedricisnotdead​​ @aconfusedslytherin​​

[incorrectunrulyprincesses]

Underland’s Unruly Princesses: March of the Witch Hunters (aka the crossover) chapter 4

Rosalind II

It was no secret that Ember hated my father, Ilosovic Stayne the Knave of Hearts. She said he was an ignorant one eyed gorilla who cheated on mother several times with various ladies of the court when she carried me inside her and that's why he lost his eye. I knew better than to ask either of my parents if there was any truth to this. When I was nine, she also claimed that he attempted to spoon her in her bedchamber. I don't know if this is officially true or not, but after that claim, mother made both of us sleep in her bed for about a year, and I didn't see my father at all during that time because he was put on ice in the dungeon.

But once I realized I wasn't going to get anywhere with Auntie Mary and Auntie Sarah, apart from my birthday gifts that is, I knew I had to ask him for help. I got all the attention I wanted from Mother, Ember, my aunties, and mother's old friend and our cook, Mrs. Nellie Lovett, but my father was distant. He was probably busy carrying out Mother's orders. Still, the only time he spent with me was with everyone else, or when he tried to teach me how to spar which mother quickly stopped him from.

"Princesses don't fight with steel." Mummy insisted when she caught me fencing with my father on her croquet lawn and promptly dragged me off by one arm. In hindsight, I think Daddy wanted me to be a boy.

The Resistance made a big deal out of the fact that Mother executed her husband, took several lovers over the course of her reign, and had no "legitimate" children. Ember and I were often referred to as "Royal Bastards." Mummy countered this slander by saying that Ember's father was the resistance leader, Tarrant Hightopp, the Hatter, and that the only reason she killed her husband was that he tried to kill Ember when she was a toddler and pushed him off her balcony. Not only that, but she was also pregnant with me at the time and couldn't keep him around long enough for him to find out that she had another child who wasn't his. Besides, he was a cheating asshole just like my father. Worse than my father in fact because he'd been screwing her own sister!

I wish I looked more like my mother. She and Ember had the same red hair, only Ember's hair was more ginger than red. I had only my mother's porcelain skin, dainty features, long eyelashes, and aching feet, and my father's bright sky blue eyes, but unlike either of them, I was born with an abundance of long, thick, wavy honey-colored tresses falling almost to my knees which was strange at first, but then it was revealed that my maternal grandmother, Queen Elsemere was a blonde, so I guess it wasn't that odd. Like my sister, I had a curvaceous, voluptuous body and had always been rather busty for my age.

As we walked to Daddy's chamber, I thought about my interaction with Auntie Sarah and Auntie Mary. They were quick to praise my singing of Nellie's songs and rewarded me with my birthday presents. Auntie Mary gave me a beautiful cake, six layers high decorated with red buttercream roses with golden leaves. Two layers were chocolate fudge cake filled with cheesecake, two were chocolate chip cookie dough cake filled with cheesecake, and two were red velvet cake filled with cheesecake. The whole thing was frosted in fudge and cream cheese frosting. She told me I was getting too skinny and insisted I eat the whole thing myself before I started singing. Auntie Sarah gave me some a beautiful choker, black velvet ribbon with a golden rose briar pattern embroidered into it, three new gowns, and a red bow made from the same fabric of my mother's favorite gown with a miniature version of mother's scepter as the clasp. I thanked them and asked them where Auntie Winnie was.

"In your mother's study," was Auntie Sarah's reply,

"In the garden," said Auntie Mary at the same time. Then they looked at each other oddly.

"In your mother's study," said Auntie Mary.

"In the garden," said Auntie Sarah.

I knew now that she was neither in the garden or Mummy's study and grew suspicious. Ember's story confirmed these suspicions and I knew we had to send my father out to find the Witch Hunters in our world and arrest them immediately. We would put a bounty on their heads and snuff them out. If not, I could use my baby Jabberwockies that mother gave me when I turned fourteen, Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion, on them. They were my babies. Drogon was now large enough to ride, but the others could set things on fire and probably burn people alive.

I rapped sharply on door to my father's room with Ember close behind.

"Exactly why are you dragging me to visit your father?" Ember asked me.

"Because he listens to you and not me." I said blankly, stating the obvious and trying to school the twinge of envy from my voice.

"You're his daughter, though," Ember torted. "Not me. Besides, he abandoned you."

"I think you scare him." I smirked. "Why does Mummy even keep him around anyway?"

Ember chuckled lowly. "I haven't a clue, sis. Sometimes I swear Mum forgets why she does things."

"Well either way you get through to him better than I do that's why you're coming with me." I banged on the door again. "DADDY! GET YOUR STUPID FUCKING DEADBEAT ARSE OUT HERE RIGHT NOW!" I yelled.

"Or I'll tell Mummy you sometimes like to wank to pictures of Aunt Mirana!" Ember chimed in an annoying tone. I giggled like a little girl.

Ember laughed as my Father whipped the door open. She had Aunt Winnie's book in the crook of her arm. She had not stopped carrying it around since Mum gave it to her.

"The fuck do you brats want?" he demanded. I stared him down.

"Well, well, well, Stayne, I'd expected you to be thrilled by our appearance," Ember cooed in a sarcastic tone. "I guess I was totally wrong with that assumption." Without even asking, Ember just shoved her way into his room. Giggling, I followed her.

My father's single good eyes followed Ember as she went to the middle of the room and sat in a chair by the hearth. "It's an emergency." I insisted.

Oddly enough, my father sighed, then he crossed the room and sat across from Ember and I. "Considering that I have nothing better to attend to, I guess I will listen to your little pitiful sob story."

"It's the witch hunters. We have reason to believe there are some in our world that will stage an uprising and kill us all. We need you to find them."

My father's face twisted into a disgusted expression. "Witch hunters, you say?" He drew a small knife from his belt and began to wave it around. "What's in it for me?" he demanded of us.

Ember's cheeks began to flush red, and I could tell that Mum's temper was about to take over. "What's in it for you? You ignorant buffoon! If these Witch Hunters are even allowed to execute a single witch, they will begin to destroy the rest of us! Can't you see that we are peculiar compared to those from Above? We are nothing but alien to them. If they infiltrate the different worlds, we are all doomed. Underland and Above will be wiped clean. That includes everyone and everything!"

Ember had the ability to talk very, very fast when she was pissed off, much like Mum. I had always thought that she could easily out-talk anyone when she was about to rage. "If you don't do this for me, your own flesh and blood, do this for yourself!" I snapped.

Ember sprang from her chair. "DO IT FOR YOUR QUEEN!" She hissed stridently. It frightened me a little how angry she was getting. "Do it for the sake of having a woman to stick your dinky little prick into!" I clapped a gloved hand over my mouth in an attempt to stop the laughter that threatened to burst out.

I don't know whether it was the idea of not being able to lay again, or Ember's temper, but my father's jaw dropped. "Yes, your highness. Right away." He stumbled to his feet. He came over to me, dropped a peck on my cheek, dropped a heavy coin purse into my lap.

In one swift motion, he swiped his sword from the rack on the wall, and he began to jog from the room.

I wiped it off, quickly, but shoved the money into my cleavage. I wasn't used to his fake affection, but the money was nice and very much appreciated. Ever since his latest betrayal, Mum demanded he pay child support for my upkeep. About two million pounds sterling a month to be exact.

Ember sniggered next to me. She wrapped her fingers around Aunt Winnie's book and she giggled. "Well, Sis, looks like we got that taken care of."

"We make an excellent team. Remind me never to piss you off like that. Ever."I joked.

"Not to worry, Ros, dear. You shall never know the extent of my true temper." Holding the book to her chest, she rose from her chair. "Now, then, I suggest we go and find Mum."

"She'll be happy to know your favorite person paid his child support on time. How long do you think he'll last out there?" I wondered, walking out with my sister.

She shrugged. "Who knows? Hopefully long enough for us to find Aunt Winifred before the Witch Hunters take her down."

"While we're on the subject, there's something you should know." I confessed. "I've been having these weird nightmares about a black cat loitering around a condemned building in the Above. Do you think it has anything to do with Auntie Winnie?"

Ember stopped dead in her tracks. "That's funny, Ros. I, too, have seen the apparition of a feline, black as coal. I didn't think anything of it at all. You know what this means?" I shook my head.

"We must question Mum," she said flatly. "Even if you leave the talking to me. I think she knows more that she lets onto."

"I'll go with you...for moral support. But I don't want Mum to be mad at me." I said.

"It's decided then. I will do the talking." And with that, she trudged down the corridor. I followed.