Not Ever Again -1- Not Ever Again!

Chapter VIII

This fic was written during two months on my mobile, writing five minutes every time I managed to do it. it wasn't writen with an actual plot, but so i would have something to write to satisfy my hunger for writing as i didn't have time to grab my notebooks

Ner words in this chapter: 2,282

"Talking"

'Thinking'

–Parseltongue–

{Talking on the fireplace/Two-way mirror/through Patronus}

Thinking in 3rd person POV/Dream/Memory/Flashback/Others

Letter/Journal/Book/Newspaper

Time change/Date of time

Change of POV

-Chapter VIII-

July 1991

Harry's POV

"You don't need to come with me, Cissy."

The blonde witch shook her head.

"You always say that, Aunt Jade, and I'll always answer that it's my pleasure to listen to you singing."

Harry sighed as he entered the small café he sang at every Friday and weekend nights. He suspected he could have started his own band or even his own cd, but... He liked to sing in bars without an actual concert. As always the bar was full, with Hagrid on the first seat. Harry grinned at seeing him, the half giant waved back as Harry moved to the stage with his guitar homemade by his father. Harry took a deep breath and sat ready to start, when he saw one Quirinus Quirrel with the turban in his head. The professor seemed more confused for being there than pleased. Harry didn't sensor him, the café was full with known and not known death eaters. Harry wondered if the only reason he hadn't been fired yet was because he filled the house and not because he was actually good at it. The only reason he even filled a house was because of his dead lover. Harry finished preparing the guitar and looked directly towards Quirrel.

"My first song is dedicated to a man named Bran." he stated and started playing the guitar.

He hadn't even finished the first musical note and already everyone started to look around for the only person Harry always played that song to. Quirrel didn't move.

-NEA-

Harry looked up as Quirrel approached him in the end.

"It was a great performance, miss..."

"Riddle, Mrs Riddle." Harry offered and Quirrel nodded. "And thank you, you are very kind."

Harry smiled and Quirrel smiled back, he knew he shouldn't but he felt good at knowing that even though he was simply in the back of the head he had still made certain to visit Harry and to hear him sing and play.

"Professor Quirrel." a male voice said, making Harry look away from his late professor to the person who had approached.

Harry's eyes grew at seeing almost every death eater by their side, what did they thought they were doing? Voldemort would never tolerate the way they were pulling him away from... Harry tensed, as Jeremy Lestrange appeared by his side and offered a hand to help him stand. Even if Harry knew he was the Dark Lord, no one else knew and all they'd seen was a man hinting on their lord's 'wife'. Voldemort would so have their heads when he would get his body back. Harry took the offered hand, glancing at Quirrel one last time before heading out with Jeremy and Narcissa.