Harry was in the Great Hall at breakfast when Hermione startled mumbling something angrily under her breath, her nose buried in the Daily Prophet.
"What's wrong, Hermione?"
The girl laid the paper down on the table in a huff, in the process covering her and Ron's plates. Ron scowled and retrieved his plate, pulling it to his chest protectively and taking another bite of pancake. Harry raised his brow and smirked.
"It's You-Know-Who, Harry. He's been too quiet lately. He's planning something, I know it," she said with conviction.
Harry choked on his pumpkin juice. Voldemort mumbled, :And they call me paranoid...: Harry's coughs increased as he simultaneously tried to clear his throat and stifle is laughter.
Hermione continued, oblivious to Harry's reaction. "There have been all these break-ins and raids, werewolves on the prowl and all around discord and anarchy the past months, and now suddenly nothing? You can't tell me that's not suspicious. There has not been one peep or inkling of Death Eater activity since three of them were captured last week."
Coughing under control and with a carefully schooled, concerned face, Harry asked, "Last week? Oh, you mean the pub fight."
Hermione gave him a look. "They were trying to kidnap that half-blood witch who turned one of the men down. Everyone is saying to be on high alert," she told him gravely. "I wonder what Dumbledore thinks."
"Yeah, I wonder..." Harry murmured. It was while he was in the middle of spooning some oatmeal into his mouth that a thought occurred to him. "Hey, wait a minute!" he exclaimed around his mouthful of food, the hand holding his spoon still frozen I the air. Swallowing that one last bite of sustenance, he gathered his things and told his friends he would see them in a little bit, ignoring their flabbergasted looks as he hastily left his seat without a word of explanation for either his outburst or his sudden exit. Walking casually yet quickly out of the Great Hall, Harry headed in the direction of his first class, but stopped in an empty classroom he found on the way. He placed Voldemort on a desktop and set a privacy ward before placing his hands on his hips.
:I thought you said your comrades would know to continue on your brand of mayhem and dissent even with you gone.:
Voldemort flicked his tongue out. :And they did, but you heard the Mudblood; the imbeciles got themselves captured.:
:It was a pub brawl...that's your backup plan? Come on, you really expect me to believe that?:
Rising up into and S-curve, managing to appear smug even in his current form, Voldemort said, :I told you they would know what to do if I happened to lose my body again. They have no proof of that at this point. What, did you think they would suddenly begin calling their own shots after only a week of my absence? How insulting.:
Harry glowered. :You tricked me into thinking nothing would change even with you gone.:
Voldemort's eyes gleamed with malicious glee. :No, you made too many assumptions. The war will eventually go on, but after enough time for my followers to come to the conclusion about why I am absent. It could take months, if Dumbledore stays silent about his suspicions of my banishment.:
:So, what do you think? Is the evil Lord Voldemort planning some new devious scheme? Or perhaps he's given up...any thoughts as to what it might be?:
Voldemort sneered, flicking his tongue out angrily. :I do not like your cheek, Potter.:
Harry grinned before chuckling. :A pub fight...seriously, shouldn't your people know not to hit on the girlfriends of Aurors?:
Voldemort coiled up tighter sulkily, almost appearing to be contemplating something he'd rather not be. :I need you..." Voldemort bared his fangs in some unknown frustration. :I need you, Potter, to do me a...a favor,: he finally ground out bitterly, no doubt unused to having to ask for things rather than simply ordering everyone around.
Harry's brow wrinkled in wonder at the request. :What? And before you ask, I am not going to Crucio myself.:
The snake lifted his head up, completely ignoring the statement. :I need you to send a letter to Lucius Malfoy.:
Harry's first thought, of course, was something along the lines of, Not on your life, Voldemort. But, he decided to go along with the request for the time being, and see what Voldemort's intentions were.
Snorting, Harry asked, :What shall I say? I think I rather like, "After some thought, I have decided that all Death Eater robes should now be pink." Am I close?:
:Potter!: Voldemort warned. :I will tell you what to write. You can owl it tonight.:
Harry's face turned firm as he narrowed his eyes in suspicion. :Why do you need to send a letter to Lucius Malfoy?: he asked heatedly. There was no way he would relay any orders from Voldemort.
:Why do you think? My followers are staying low now, and I'd like to keep it that way and not have a repeat of the...incident—:
:Pub fight.:
:—from last week,: Voldemort finished, ignoring Harry's correction. Malfoy will most easily be able to spread the word. They are not to do anything without my permission.:
Well, that was certainly interesting.
:Wait...you want me to send the Death Eaters a letter telling them they're not allowed to do any, er, Death Eater things?:
:That was a term of our agreement, wasn't it? If you've changed your mind I'd be happy to order them-:
:No, no,: Harry hastily interrupted. He knew the terms weren't really active yet, as he hadn't fulfilled his part of the bargain, and he suspected Voldemort knew this as well but was just using it as an argument to convince Harry to write his stupid letter. He obviously didn't trust his followers to not do anything idiotic.
:Fine, I'll write your letter,: Harry said with long, drawn-out sigh, although in reality having the Dark Lord himself order the Death Eaters to lay low was perfectly fine with him. He pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill and ink from his bag. :So, the Death Eaters really don't know you're missing? Well,: Harry gestured with his hands, :I guess they call on you, not you calling on them. So, for all they know if you don't contact them, you could just be taking a little vacation down in the Mediterranean.:
:I'm a Dark Lord. We don't do "vacations".:
"Yeah, well maybe that's your problem..." muttered Harry, making sure he was out of Voldemort's bite range. :That just seems like such a disadvantage. There has to be someone who would know you're missing, right?:
Voldemort briefly flared his hood before tucking it back against his body. :No, of course not. They may suspect it, but they do not "know". They are not my friends.:
Harry frowned. :But, what about the night you lost your body? Everyone knew then.:
Sneering at the mention of his "death," Voldemort told Harry, :That's because your people had to shout it from the roof tops.: The snake snapped his jaw. :I have to allow that there was a significant change in the branded Dark Marks, as they are all connected with my magic. That night heralded a period of time where my magic was disconnected from the Marks. Currently, my magic has been bound, but not disconnected.:
Harry felt a momentary feeling of panic, but tried to appear calm. :Um, how does the Dark Mark work? For instance,: Harry made a vague gesture with one of his hands in the air, :could one of the Death Eaters use the Mark to find you?:
Harry had to remind himself that snakes can't smirk...but he swore that this one could. The bastard knew what he was getting at, of course.
:Why should I tell you? You may be willing to share your secrets, but I am not so gullible.:
With a shrug, Harry gathered up the parchment and quill to put them back in his bag. :Suit yourself, I'll just leave you to find a way to write that letter...:
:Potter, you ingrate,: Voldemort spat out. He really was just too easy, Harry thought gleefully to himself. Voldemort raised his upper body from the desk and trained his gleaming scarlet eyes on Harry's bright green ones. It was odd, but Harry swore there wasn't the same malice in the snake's eyes as there was in his scathing insult. Maybe the Dark Lord...approved of Harry's almost Slytherin methods?
:No, they cannot locate me through their Marks. Why would I let any of them have a means of finding me no matter where I am? If they have something to say to me, they may request it, but I am by no means obligated to suffer their presence if I do not wish it. They can only come to me if I summon them.:
Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Good. At least the Death Eaters had no way of knowing the Voldemort was currently at Hogwarts...that is, if Voldemort wasn't lying.
:So, what happens if you are injured or something and couldn't contact them? Now is a perfect example. Wouldn't it be best if they had a way to find you?:
:I shall ask again, Potter: why would I do that?:
Harry blinked. :Uh, duh, because if you needed help then they could find you to assist you.: Hadn't Voldemort learned his lesson from the whole time spent as a bodiless shade? Well, obviously he hadn't because the man had come to Harry, his destined enemy, for help. He could have had his Death Eaters kidnap Harry or something for use as a translator and then kill him once they didn't need him anymore. Honestly, Harry was constantly questioning that man's status as a genius. Of course, stupidity was often a side-effect of insanity, and Harry had no doubts about that pleasant aspect of Voldemort.
:I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Potter,: Voldemort snapped. In that instant, Harry almost felt pity for the Dark Lord.
With a disbelieving snort, Harry, in a moment of epiphany, said, :Right. No, I get it; you can't trust any of them to not stab you in the back. I guess I can't blame you, what with the type of people you hang out with.:
Harry seemed to have hit it on the nose. :Better them than the ones you associate with,: Voldemort seethed.
Harry raised a questioning brow. :That's the best comeback you have? Anyway!: Harry interrupted whatever Voldemort might retort with and straightened out the parchment and picked up the quill on the desktop in front of him. :What would you like me to write?:
Harry had to rewrite the letter twice after trying to insert some of his own opinions of certain Death Eaters in the first letter, and was forced to rewrite the second after putting several frowny-faces in and signing it with Tommy Voldemorty-warty. Voldemort, to say the least, was not amused. Harry was beginning to think that once Seventh Year was up he should probably just kill himself instead of letting Voldemort do it, because, while he found irritating Voldie to be Great Fun (yes, good enough to have that capitalized), he was starting to get a little worried about his promised death. Voldemort had even considered making him immortal so he could just pass on killing him in favor of torturing him the rest of forever. After that one, Harry had (probably very stupidly) replied he was touched that Voldemort wanted to spend the rest of his life with him.
Once the (third) letter was finished, Harry immediately noticed a problem: unless that connection between them meant they also shared handwriting, it would be obvious to anyone familiar with the Dark Lord's writing style that he had not written this particular letter. Harry brought this up with Voldemort.
To Harry's shock, Voldemort merely twisted around and bit into his own tail, drawing blood as red as his eyes.
:What are you doing?!: Harry squeaked in alarm. Had Voldemort finally cracked? No, wait, he had already done that...
:Give me the letter,: Voldemort demanded. Wide eyed, Harry held it out to the snake, who promptly wiped a crimson trail of blood across the bottom of the page.
:Now cast Morsmordre on the parchment.:
Harry blanched. :Can I even do that here?: He glanced around warily.
Voldemort gave a long-suffering, sibilant sigh. :Cast it in Parseltongue.: After a moment, he added for good measure, :Idiot.:
Harry rolled his eyes but nonetheless did as he was told. Once cast, Harry watched as Voldemort's blood spread across the parchment, merging with the inked words Harry had written and morphing the handwriting into something with sharper lines and elegant curves. The black ink took on the crimson color of the blood, and at the bottom of the parchment appeared the Dark Mark, the snake wrapping itself around the skull and opening its mouth in a silent hiss.
:Huh. Looks like you,: Harry commented.
Later that afternoon, after classes were done, Harry and Voldemort made their way to the Owlery. Voldemort, with Harry dictating on the parchment, had told Lucius to spread the word about refraining from all "unauthorized" activity while he (Lord Voldemort) was absent on important business. Under no circumstances were they to risk getting caught by the Ministry on raids and whatnot they were not ordered to perform, no questions asked. All Harry had to do now was send the letter off by owl.
Wrinkling his nose, Harry could tell from the moldy and rancid scent that he was nearing the Owlery. Idly he wondered when was the last time a student had to clean it as a detention, and guessed it had been a while. Up in the tower, the quiet coos and hoots of the owls greeted his ears, and as soon as he stepped into the room a snow-white shape came darting at him and landed on his offered arm.
"Hello, Hedwig. How's my sweet girl?" Harry pulled out a handful of owl treats, always prepared to spoil his first and most loyal friend. He wasn't going to use her to send the letter, as he didn't want to risk her safety and she was highly identifiable as his.
Hedwig took the offered treats, before turning her luminous eyes on Harry's other companion. She hooted in mild curiosity.
"Hedwig, meet Voldemort. I know, I know, you must think I'm absolutely mad right now. But I had to tell someone, and I know you won't tell anyone, will you girl." Harry smiled fondly as Hedwig nibbled his finger affectionately.
:Talking to birds, now, Potter?:
"Talking to birds, now, Potter?"
Harry had to fight the laughter bubbling in his chest at Voldemort's chuffed expression for his echoed words before schooling his face and turning around to greet the haughty figure of Draco Malfoy.
"Hello, Malfoy." To Voldemort, Harry said, :Pay attention, this is what you get when purebloods interbreed too much.: Harry shooed Hedwig off his arm and to the safety of an overhead perch.
Malfoy had narrowed his eyes at Harry's sibilant hissing. "What are you telling that ugly snake anyway?" Voldemort was not pleased with this statement and hissed. Malfoy, not being so smart, continued talking. "A bunch of lies, probably. That snake must be mentally deranged anyway for associating with you of all people.:
Voldemort rose up from Harry's shoulder and bared his fangs. :I don't like this boy; he's rude.:
Harry smirked when Draco took a step back. "He says he doesn't like you. I think it's because you called him ugly." If only Draco knew!
If Draco was surprised that an animal might be able to understand him, he hid it well. "You shouldn't even be able to do that, Potter," Malfoy said in his sharp, arrogant tone. "Only Slytherins are worthy of being Parselmouths."
"What, you mean Lord Voldemort?" Harry watched satisfactorily as Draco flinched. "Or perhaps you are jealous, that a 'worthless Gryffindor' whose mother was a Muggleborn can do something that you can't?"
"Watch your mouth, Potter," the blond boy snapped. Harry had to admit, Draco did catch him by surprise when he, quick as lightning, pulled out his wand and shot a mild though painful blasting curse in Harry's direction. Harry was tossed backwards, his back sliding across the dirty floor of the Owlery. Voldemort had come loose from Harry's shoulders and had landed a few paces away, hissing madly. Harry winced and pulled himself upright, resting his weight on one arm.
"Finally found your place I see, Potter: among the filth."
Now, Harry was used to name-calling and getting slapped around a little, but he still had his pride, and at that moment it was telling him that Draco Malfoy had gone too far. He stood up.
"Get out, Malfoy," Harry spat. "I'm sick of your feebleminded and biased prejudices." Harry's eyes were reflecting the winter light and shown a bright Avada Kedavra green. From above, a white flash unexpectedly descended upon the Malfoy Heir. Draco tried to ward off Hedwig's attack, but she kept swooping down and pulling out of reach.
"Hedwig, it's okay," Harry called out, not wanting her to get injured by the incensed blond. Hooting smugly, she flew to a high-above perch and set her large, golden eyes on Malfoy. The boy was holding his hand to the scratches on his right cheek where Hedwig had managed to catch her talons on. From somewhere beside him, Harry heard Voldemort mocking about how pathetic Draco was for letting a bird get the best of him.
:Maybe you should consider replacing a few of your Death Eaters with owls. They might be more effective.:
:I'm beginning to think you're right, Potter, if this is the next generation,: Voldemort concluded dryly, making Harry chuckle as he turned back to Malfoy, who was eyeing the exchange with a suspicious look.
"What is with you and the bloody animals, Potter? That bird is a menace to society."
"Don't you touch Hedwig!" Harry ground out, remembering the whole fiasco with Buckbeak.
"I can bloody well do what I please, if it will help clear society of dangerous animals. Starting with this one." He trained his wand on Voldemort's pale form. "Diffindo!"
"No!"
Harry simply reacted, with only one thought going through his head: Am I really going to jump in front of a spell for Lord Voldemort? Yup, apparently I'm THAT wacked...
Voldemort had ducked down in clear alarm, but he wouldn't have enough time to get out of reach of the spell without landing severe damage to his small body. Diving on top of the snake, a Parseltongue spell already on his lips before he hit the ground, Harry instinctively cast a protective shield around them. He didn't even know if it would work. But it did work, and successfully cast without a wand, the shield glowed a shimmery white as Malfoy's spell hit, dissipating it instantly. Turning his face towards the caster, Harry gave him a murderous look. The boy in return looked more than a little astounded.
"H-how'd you do that?"
"I believe I told you to leave, Malfoy," Harry replied coldly, not answering the question. He pushed himself once more up off the ground. Voldemort uncoiled underneath him and rose up, hood flared in obvious aggression. Harry flickered his eyes down at the snake and then back up at Malfoy. "My snake is angry, and if I were you I'd leave before you find out how truly dangerous and mentally deranged he is."
When Draco made no immediate move to leave, seemingly frozen in place, Harry hissed, sending the boy stumbling out the doorway with Parselmagic. Now Draco looked even more shocked, and he narrowed his eyes at Harry.
"You really are a freak, Potter."
Malfoy, with one last disgusted glance at Harry, left the way he had come, though his face looked sickly pale.
For good measure, knowing how to treat a bully, Harry hissed a few more words in Parseltongue, and smiled satisfactorily as Draco yelped as his clothes vanished, leaving him only in lovely pink boxers, and his hair turned an excellent combination of red and gold. Because of the Parselmagic, the boy would have a right time trying to finite the hair spell.
"Huh, I like that magic," Harry murmured. And then he groaned, thinking, I really hope Malfoy will keep his mouth shut about this. Harry was fairly confident he would, as Harry had effectively humiliated the boy. The problem became, would the Malfoy heir tell his father? After all, they knew of only one other person who could perform magic using the snake-language.
Harry pulled himself into a sitting position, seeing Draco's forgotten letter on the ground in front of him. Picking it up, he broke the seal and read the opening greeting: To Mummy. Harry looked to the bottom, reading, From your little Dragon. Sighing in what could have been disgust or pity, he tossed the letter to the side before pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around them, eyes glazed in thought.
So...he'd just saved Voldemort from a rather anticlimactic and humiliating death. Wonderful. Getting him back to human was one thing, but saving the same man we was supposedly destined to kill seemed a bit much, wouldn't one think? 'Honestly,' Harry thought as he shook his head, 'I probably really should have let that spell hit him.' But that thought just didn't seem right, for the same reasons he had Voldemort with him in the first place.
Shaking his head again and sighing, he got up on his knees and looked at the snake that was more trouble than he was worth.
Harry, kneeling, inspected the naturally pale form of Voldemort, who was breathing heavily and actually trembling slightly with the adrenaline, his small body probably going into shock. Certain death did that to a person—er, snake—Harry knew. He ran a hand down his scales in an attempt to soothe.
:Hey, you going to be alright?: he asked. Voldemort, shaken, still managed to unfurl his hood in a gesture of indignation.
:Of course I'll be 'alright',: he snapped. As Harry, with infinite care, picked the Dark Lord up from the floor and placed him around his shoulders, Voldemort said, :Lucius Malfoy will be sterilized at the next opportune moment.: Harry laughed.
:Now that is something we both agree on. Should I add that in the letter?:
:No, I wish it to be a surprise.: Harry chuckled. Voldemort was still for a moment, then, :It-it's cold here, Potter, do hurry on with your business.: the Dark Lord said as if he was being subjected to horrible room service, but Harry knew better. He cast a heating charm.
Owing to how out of sorts that admission proved of Voldemort, Harry selected a plain barn owl from among the school owls and tied the letter to its leg, sending it off to Lucius Malfoy. Once done, he left the Owlery and walked back down the multitude of steps in the West Tower.
:I'm covered in bird crap,: Harry observed, pulling on the sleeve of his robe. :You're pretty dirty too. Fancy a shower?:
:Not with you.:
:Ah, I wasn't really planning on it.: For some reason, Harry blushed.
Back in the dorms, Harry tossed his dirty outer clothing into the laundry chute, knowing the House Elves would take care of it. Luckily he hadn't met many people on the walk back, and none of them were bothered enough to ask why he looked like he rolled on the floor of the Owlery. Of course, his answer would have been, "Because I did," but Harry suspected that would have labeled him even more of a nutter than he already was.
'Thank goodness no one asked,' Harry thought with a shake of his head.
From his trunk, Harry withdrew his shower toiletries before he and Voldemort made their way to the bathroom. He placed his things by an empty stall and then walked over to the one next to it, turning it on.
:I'll scrub you down and you can rinse off yourself. I'll leave a towel in the corner so you can lay on it and dry a bit while the shower is still running. I think the steam will do you some good, as your body has had a bit of a shock today.:
:How thoughtful of you,: was the snarky reply.
:Yeah, yeah, you're welcome,: Harry grumbled, pulling the ungrateful menace off his shoulders and coiled him around one arm before holding him out underneath the warm water of the shower. Voldemort acted very curiously, lifting his head up and placing it right in the spray, appearing to enjoy the hot water running down his scales. Harry bit his lip, trying not to smile at the sight. Who knew the Dark Lord could enjoy something as simple as a hot shower?
Harry took some of his shower gel in his free hand, hoping it was mild enough so as not to irritate Voldemort's skin, and squeezed some onto Voldemort's long back. Hesitating as he wondered about the strangeness of the situation, he set the shower gel down and used the once again free hand to scrub the soap into Voldemort's scales. He took care to clean all the bird droppings he could see, gently scrubbing at one spot under the snake's chin. Voldemort took that time to speak up.
:We will never speak of this. Ever.:
Harry made a choking sound and grimaced.
:Believe me, I won't say a word.:
After thoroughly scrubbing down the Dark Lord so he was covered in lather, Harry placed him down on the tiles so he could rinse off. As promised, he place a towel in a corner the shower spray did not directly hit before shutting the curtain and moving on to taking care of his own shower. The water was set to turn off in a few minutes, so he didn't have to worry about turning it off himself before he was through.
Taking off the rest of his soiled clothes, he shut the curtain and turned on the water. His reaction was very similar to Voldemort's as he let the water, magically set at the perfect temperature, spray down on his face. He brushed back his wet fringe and set to scrubbing himself down. Next to his stall, he heard it when Voldemort's shower turned off.
Harry was just getting to his hair when he heard someone come in to the bathroom and drop something on the floor. He had finished rinsing when he heard the scream.
"Argh, what the-!" A loud crash followed. Harry threw open his curtain and stepped out, praying to whomever would listen that he didn't have to face some sort of unknown enemy starkers.
"Ron, what are you doing?"
A pale faced, naked Ron lay sprawled on the floor, a towel precariously covering his lap. The items of his toiletry bag he had presumably tripped over were scattered around him, and he was pointing at the stall next to Harry's with a trembling finger.
"Th-there's a snake in there!"
Harry tried, he really did, but he couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled from his chest. Voldemort took that moment to slither from the stall and into view, where he rose up and eyed the fallen boy with what could only be amusement. That evil bastard loved it when he intimidated people, Harry knew. At this particular instance, however, Harry found he could enjoy it too and continued to laugh. Voldemort glanced at him.
:Potter, please cover yourself. That is entirely too much of what I ever wish to see of my enemy.:
Blushing furiously, Harry grabbed his towel, grumbling, :Then why aren't you looking away?: That seemed to catch Voldemort off guard and he twitched violently as he looked back to the fallen Ron. Still blushing, Harry wrapped his towel around his waist.
"It's ok, Ron, he was just taking a shower. He's done now, as you can see."
Ron sputtered, incredulous. "'He was just taking a shower'? Are you bloody serious, Harry?"
Harry shrugged, still reveling in Ron's bewildered disbelief. "He was dirty."
Ron shakily crawled to his feet. "I don't bloody believe you. Warn a guy next time your snake wants a shower, will ya?"
Harry laughed again, picking Voldemort up from the floor. "I promise."
Ron sighed in relief. "Good. And, uh, don't tell Hermione? She'll have a field day with that one."
"Don't worry, your secret's safe with me.
"Thanks, mate."
"Not a problem." Harry had gathered his toiletries and waved goodbye to Ron, chuckling as he made his way out.
Once dressed again, Harry lay on his bed reading a textbook for class the next day. He had just fed Voldemort a few mice, a small meal since he had ate a large rat just a few days before, and the Dark Lord now lay coiled in his usual spot on the comforter.
:You're stupid, Potter,: he decided to inform the young man.
Harry didn't even raise his eyes from his book. :Is that so?:
Voldemort made a sound akin to a huff and sidled his way up next to Harry, lifting his head.
:That Malfoy brat was aiming to kill me and you stopped him. It wouldn't have worked, of course,: he said arrogantly, and Harry had to roll his eyes, :but you couldn't have known that. Yet you jumped in front of the spell at the risk of your own safety anyway. So yes, you are incredibly stupid, Harry Potter. A stupid, noble, too-kind-for-his-own-good Gryffindor extraordinaire who couldn't even let his worst enemy die. Tell me, Potter, were you just trying to save my death for yourself or should people start to be concerned about the Chosen One's seemingly ability to kill me?:
Harry lay the book down on his lap. :Maybe I was just saving you for myself. But then again, to see the look on Malfoy's face once he realized he killed the Dark Lord might have been worth it. I would even had helped you get resurrected again just to see you punish him.:
:Really?: Voldemort seemed highly interested in his answer. Harry pretended to think about it.
:Eh, on second thought, let's just go with the whole "I'm stupid" thing and call it a day. But now that you've pointed out my flaw, I shall endeavor to correct this mistake next time and let you die.: Harry raised his book back up, appearing to read more. Voldemort hissed with indignation.
:I really wish you would die, Potter.:
:And I wish you would stop insulting my friends, but we both know that's never going to happen. We just can't get what we want, can we? Although, I have always wanted a kitten, and we're learning this new animal-to-animal spell in Transfig—:
:Finish that sentence, Potter, and I'll give you to Bellatrix. I'm very good at torture, but she's got that unhinged creativity with it.:
:Like you would let anyone else torture me,: Harry muttered.