drown me

I’ll see you

with your

James Sirius:

“Then why,” asked Snape, “does it have the name ‘Roonil Wazlib’ written inside the front cover?”

“That’s my nickname,” he said.

Albus Severus:

“Godfather?” sputtered Uncle Vernon. “You haven’t got a godfather!”

“Yes, I have,” said Harry brightly. “He was my mum and dad’s best friend. He’s a convicted murderer, but he’s broken out of wizard prison and he’s on the run. He likes to keep in touch with me, though. Keep up with my news, check if I’m happy.

Lily Luna:

"I dreamed I was buying new shoes last night,” said Ron. “What d'ya think that’s gonna mean?”

I won’t be seen at any cost,

Let me just break this entire scene down, because I don’t think it happens enough and it is so, so important. This isn’t in defense of Harry–use deliberately used an unknown curse to someone else without knowing what the effects were. There’s no excuse for that. But he didn’t randomly use it and lol.

Malfoy wheeled around, drawing his wand. Instinctively, Harry pulled out his own wand. Malfoy’s hex missed Harry by inches, shattering the lamp on the wall beside him; Harry threw himself sideways, thought Levicorpus! and flicked his wand, but Malfoy blocked the jinx and raised his wand for another–

“No! No! Stop it!” squealed Moaning Myrtle, her voice echoing loudly around the tiled room. “Stop! STOP!”

There was a loud bang and the bin behind Harry exploded; Harry attempted a Leg-Locker Curse that backfired off the wall behind Malfoy’s ear and smashed the cistern behind Moaning Myrtle, who screamed loudly; water poured everywhere, and Harry slipped as Malfoy, his face contorted, cried, “Crucio–”“SECTUMSEMPRA!” bellowed Harry from the floor, waving his wand wildly.

For perhaps the first time in her life, Moaning Myrtle is not being overly dramatic. Her dramatics match the situation at hand, because these boys are being ridiculous.

And these boys, JFC, they’re like a fourteen year old trying to undo a bra strap for the first time. They only have a vague idea what they’re doing, don’t they? Their curses are missing and their wands are waving wildly. This is not the story of two boys in control of themselves. Can we blame them?

Draco is having an incredibly intimate, emotionally vulnerable moment in the bathroom, and he looks up to find his arch enemy staring at him. And he should have been alone, right? Harry had no good reason to be there, except that he was nosy and went to spy. Of course Malfoy is startled, and of course he’s going to draw his wand. I would’ve done the same.

Harry acts reflexively, full out defense mode, and of course he would. After the World Cup in GoF, it’s Harry that registers the twenty wands raised, who pulls Ron and Hermione down milliseconds before the stunning spells are sent. Harry’s been here before, a wand raised on him, and he’s acting on adrenaline.

The quickly escalates out of control. Draco strikes first, Harry reacts instinctively.This entire duel happens in seconds. Curse curse curse curse CUR, and CURSE. it’s loud and disorientating. Neither boy is thinking rationally. The first four curses, two from each boy, are cast non-verbally, and they all miss. Harry has no idea what Malfoy is casting at him, but he does know that shit is exploding all around him. Malfoy has no idea what Harry is casting at him–benign curses, actually, meant to disorient or disable an opponent, but not hurt them–but he knows that shit is exploding around him. Layer in the bathroom flooding, and Myrtle screaming, and it’s a disaster.

And so, Draco goes for Crucio. He didn’t–he didn’t yell it in anger. His face is contorted, but he doesn’t shout it. Still, I can’t and won’t defend that any more than I’ll defend Harry. I’m sure it was instinctual for Draco, perhaps it was his first time trying it. Maybe it was his twentieth. 

But Harry heard it, this wizard he was in a duel with, who he suspected of being a Death Eater, whom he’d loathed for six years, about to cast an Unforgivable Curse on him. Harry had endured the Cruciatus curse, and he’d be damned if he had to endure it again. Two things registered in Harry’s mind: ENEMY. and SECTUMSEMPRA.

These are children playing at grown-ups, and after…

Blood spurted from Malfoy’s face and chest as though he had been slashed with an invisible sword. He staggered backward and collapsed onto the waterlogged floor with a great splash, his wand falling from his right hand.

“No–” gasped Harry.

Slipping and staggering, Harry got to his feet and plunged toward Malfoy, whose face was now shining scarlet, his white hands scrabbling at his blood-soaked chest.

“No–I didn’t–”

Harry didn’t know what he was saying; he fell to his knees beside Malfoy, who was shaking uncontrollably in a pool of his own blood. Moaning Myrtle let out a deafening scream: “MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!”

The door banged open behind Harry and he looked up, terrified: Snape had burst into the room, his face livid. Pushing Harry roughly aside, he knelt over Malfoy, drew his wand, and traced it over the deep wounds Harry’s curse had made, muttering an incantation that sounded almost like a song. The flow of blood seemed to ease; Snape wiped the residue from Malfoy’s face and repeated his spell. Now the wounds seemed to be knitting.

Harry was still watching, horrified by what he had done, barely aware that he too was soaked in blood and water. Moaning Myrtle was still sobbing and wailing overhead. When Snape performed his countercurse for the third time, he half lifted Malfoy into a standing position.

“You need the hospital wing. There may be a certain amount of scarring, but if you take dittany immediately we might avoid even that… Come…”

He supported Malfoy across the bathroom, turning at the door to say in a voice of cold fury, “And you, Potter…You wait here for me.”

It did not occur to Harry for a second to disobey. He stood up slowly, shaking, and looked down at the wet floor. There were bloodstains floating like crimson flowers across its surface. He could not even find it in himself to tell Moaning Myrtle to be quiet, as she continued to wail and sob with increasingly evident enjoyment.

Harry is immediately horrified by his actions. He gasps, he rushes to Malfoy’s side. He is thrown to the side and lays in the cold, sopping water, covered in blood, in shock. It’s only after he knows Malfoy will be okay that he starts to come to. He stands, he’s shaky, he starts to register his surroundings–the blood, the water, screaming Myrtle. 

This is not a child who is cavalier or unrepentant about his decision. Later, he expresses his regret, even when he’s frustrated at Hermione for nagging about the Half-Blood Prince:

“I’m not defending what I did!” said Harry quickly. “I wish I hadn’t done it, and not just because I’ve got about a dozen detentions. You know i wouldn’t’ve used a spell like that, not even on Malfoy…”

…

“Give it a rest, Hermione!” said Ginny, and Harry was so amazed, so grateful, he looked up. “By the sound of it, Malfoy was trying to use an Unforgivable Curse, you should be glad Harry had something good up his sleeve!”