redhowler

oh my gosh hi thank you!!

“You overestimate your position.”

“Do I?” Harry asked. “Because I think you’re the one losing perspective.”

The magic in the clearing shifted into something quieter.

Voldemort’s fingers now curled over Harry’s jaw. “You think because I indulge you, you possess power over me?”

“No,” Harry said honestly. “I know I do.”

“I’m with him by choice, Dumbledore.”

“You’ve become quite a good liar, Harry.”

The feeling in his scar stopped.

“He is, isn’t he?” the Dark Lord mused, coming up to stand just beside Harry. “He’s a wonderful student.”

Dumbledore still hadn’t picked up his wand. The headmaster was just staring, his blue eyes no longer sad but twinkling once more. Harry wondered what it was he saw, what lines he was reading between. “I never took you for a teacher, Tom.”

Voldemort raised his eyebrow and his voice was cold. “Don’t I know it.”

Pity.

It was a disgusting feeling, no matter which way it was directed. Feeling pity for others, that was something Draco’s father always told him was unacceptable. Draco had to own his position in life, his grand role in the scheme of things, the responsibility of being in one of the last remaining pureblood families.

And now, Draco realized his father had been right. Not because Draco should think of himself so highly, but because having others pity you was absolutely revolting. He felt small, insignificant – like a child. But he hadn’t had the luxury of innocent youth ever since he saw the Dark Lord slam his father to the floor, setting his bare foot on pale blond hair to the echoes of cold laughter.

Albus Dumbledore looked so, so sorry for poor Draco Malfoy.

He wished Dumbledore had his wand out and pointed at him instead.

Harry glanced at the woman frantically. Elaine. That was her name. There was a name to associate with a pearson this time. He couldn’t let this happen, not again. “No, of course I don’t,” he said quickly, placatingly, “but I’m… I’m asking you for this.”

“Get out, Harry,” was all Voldemort said before turning his back on him. Final. Like a gavel slamming down as the woman was given the death penalty.

Harry racked his brain for what to do. He reached up and pulled on his hair until it hurt but he couldn’t feel anything as panic swept through his mind, carrying all of his thoughts away with the breeze. No, not a breeze, a fucking tornado, leaving his mind in shambles as he struggled to figure out how to fix this.

The light bulb went off in his mind and immediately Harry wished it hadn’t. He wished he could find that same switch that had turned it on and flick it off to see the other possible lights in his headspace but he couldn’t. There wasn’t any time.

Harry steeled himself, damning himself to hell and whatever else lay even deeper into its nine circles, and dropped to his knees.

Sooo I would like to apologize for the two year break - a lot of stuff was happening in my life and I couldn’t really put the mental energy towards writing. BUT all’s good and I’m back now and this will definitely not be the norm! I can’t give an exact schedule since I’m currently prepping for the MCAT (send me good vibes pls) but the next update for No Heroes will be up in two weeks, I’m about 1/3 done writing.

oh hey

only took two years :)

thank you everyone for all the support ive gotten on this fic, even if i didn’t respond to the messages in my inboxes I read through them all and im just astounded by the kindness

Good question

I’d say 45% for right now

you bet it is

here’s a sneak peek :)

No Heroes 25.

ohhh that’s a good question. it honestly changes every couple of months.

right now, thematically I’d say dead things by eclipsewing. actually anything by them is just unreal.

i’m also a huge fan of messermoon. here’s looking at you kid by them is just… wow.

"You've learned Legilimency," Voldemort said. "Well..." He stopped, not able to give Potter the praise he deserved. Not when there were more pressing matters. He had always known the boy was suicidal, but he hadn't considered that someone besides Dumbledore might account for that. The Dursleys were a type of people not unfamiliar to Voldemort, and now he was beginning to understand just what had shaped Harry into the self-sacrificing martyr he was today.

If he detached himself, he knew it was an easy way to manipulate the boy. It was a tool he could use, a leash he could tighten and use to lead.

But this... It was far too similar to another boy's situation. An orphan stranded in a strange place full of strange people that did not understand him. That hadn't even tried. Not that he had wanted them to. How he had longed for someone to just get it. To understand that Voldemort was extraordinary in a world of people who defined ordinary.

Eventually, he had come to the conclusion that he had to make them understand.

"What's the matter?" Harry rolled hs eyes, shoving his hands in his pockets. The picture of nonchalance. It would have been flawless if not for the sweat trickling down his forehead. Potter was nervous. He was scared. He was better at concealing it, but Voldemort knew many things about Harry now. What made him tick, what set him off... "I didn't do it well enough for you?"

Writing their relationship is definitely a challenge