The Spider Whisper

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Harry almost couldn't force himself out of bed in the morning, he felt beyond exhausted. His body felt unusually weak, his vision peripheral was fuzzier than what was considered normal, and his stomach was currently training to be an acrobat by the the feel of it. Harry sat in his bed, unmoving as roommates milled around the room doing whatever their morning routine was, Kiwi was beside him, curled up and sleeping and Harry felt jealousy as he dragged himself to a sitting position. His arms twitched at the minimal strain, Harry felt a flicker of irritation at how his body was fairing as he swiped his curtains open. Hazily he noticed no one paid him any mind, he turned to where he was sitting on the edge of his bed and wondered if it'd be a big deal to miss the first day of Professor Malfoy teaching.

Huffing he forced himself to his feet, his legs shook slightly but he ignored it. Harry has had much worse than a little weakness, and this was better than being in a coma for a few weeks. Harry had taken to wearing his next day's clothes to bed for no other reason than laziness, so as he waited for Tiernan and Orion to get ready he allowed himself to yawn and observe the room lazily. Mid-yawn, he caught Riddle casting him a sidelong glance, as he put a shirt on. As tempted as he was, he didn't start staring intensely at him or flip him off, he merely sat back on his bed and mumbled incoherently to himself, as he stretched his shaky arms over his head.

"Are you doing alright?" the voice distracted Harry for a moment and he glanced over to Kiwi who had spoke, "You're acting injured."
"I'm fine," Harry replied and his found that his voice was hoarse as if he screamed all night, "Just tired from yesterday."

"Did you get hit in the head with a can yesterday?" Kiwi asked, her hiss not sounding concern only mildly amused.

"Nope," Harry drawled and watched as Kiwi flicked her tongue at him.

"You shoulda said yes," Kiwi pouted.

"Why?" Harry said in slight amusement.

"I was going to tell a joke," Kiwi informed him and Harry nodded and waited a long moment to respond.
"I can say yes now," Harry suggested but Kiwi puffed and turned away from him.

"No," Kiwi hissed, "you ruined it."

"...what if I say sorry?" Harry asked idly, as he started to fiddle with his hair.

"I would reject the apology," Kiwi answered, Harry looked over to her and off put by her apparent bad mood he didn't say anything else. Now he just had to sit here and wait for Tiernan and Orion, both of them were far along their morning routine. Tiernan was doing his last step which was brushing his hair while Orion was gathering school books, and after he did that he typically brushed his teeth so almost time to go to breakfast. Frowning he tinkered with his sleeve and pulled it up enough to see one of his most hated scars; I must not tell lies.

It still remained, Harry never exactly expected it to vanish or something, as Death did mention he would keep his scars, but it gave him a surreal feeling to glance down and see that scar. The Blood Quill scar was technically a curse scar, or if Harry recalled correctly it was, so it was never going to heal. The same with the other one on his right hand saying; I must not break the rules. Funny really, he hated them in his last life with a burning passion and don't quote him wrong, he still did but now but it was more of a resigned apathetic hatred. Cold and unrelenting, instead of hot and full of action. Harry wasn't about to murder the child form of Umbridge, even if he would silently hate her, the most he would do is block her path to the Ministry ranks. Umbridge won't ever have a chance to hurt children, and Harry would ensure it with all he could.

"How'd you sleep last night?" Tiernan asked as he plopped next to Harry on the bed, startled slightly he jumped and flicked his sleeve down in an attempt to cover the scarring.

Foresaken (Old, being rewrote)Waar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu