𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇

Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Bast, Egyptian Goddess of Fertility

I can remember walking in on Uncle Sev sitting at the kitchen table. He didn't look up at me. Aunt Hermione and Grandma Molly were there also. Grandma Molly hugged me as tight as she ever had.

When I looked at Uncle Sev, a chill went down my spine.

"Where's Papa?" I had asked.

And this is when it starts to get fuzzy

I remember asking is over and over again. No one would tell me. I collapsed somewhere along the way. When I woke, Uncle Sev explained what had happened. He had seen it all.

Papa had been killed. The final chance at a peaceful life had been stomped to death and then used as snake-food.

However, to me, my papa, the only blood family I had left, was gone.

Harry loved Saturdays. They were always perfect for sleeping in. Especially after a Friday night meeting when he had a lot on his mind to think about.

Even though they had discussed several disturbing things about the Death Eaters and their master, he couldn't get his thoughts off the boy who interrupted their meeting. Scorpius Malfoy-whoever was more than enough to rattle his brain. And it wasn't so much because he was an enigma in who he was, but how he affected Harry so much.

The conditions were almost Voldemort-like. Sure, it wasn't the pain he felt when Voldemort touched him, but the mere fact that it got a reaction scared him a little.

He lay back in bed, one hand under his head, as he stared up at the ceiling. It wasn't as interesting looking up at it without his glasses on, he realised three minutes into his endeavour. Without his glasses, the cracks and patterns bled into each other, providing him with a blurry mass of white paint with a few dots here and there. It wasn't as appealing as he had first thought.

Not only was Scorpius capable of such fascinating sensations, but he was also the son of Malfoy and some unknown man. That also toyed with Harry's interests. It toyed with them a lot.

He shook his head with frustration, trying to convince himself that the heat in his cheeks was from him getting angry with himself.

Sure. There was a chance he was gay. There was a huge chance, in fact, and yes, Malfoy's body proved that. But it wasn't Harry's fault that Malfoy had that absolutely gorgeous body and that neck that he would just love to nibble on...

"Oh crap," Harry breathed, turning to his side. "Physical attraction, nothing more."

And that was true. It wasn't as if he had started to fall for the blonde's personality or anything.

"I'd rather screw the giant squid."

He had already cast a soundless barrier around his bed, which was surrounded by his usual curtains. None of the other boys could hear or see him talk to himself, for which he was thankful for. The last thing he needed was another bout of rumours depicting his insanity to take over his life.

"They're probably true," he reasoned with himself. "What kind of sane teen boy talks to himself about not appreciating the most amazing body he's ever seen." He rolled his eyes at that. "Not that you've actually seen his body...just what it looks like...do not think in that direction, Harry Potter."

He took deep breaths to calm himself and began to think about less appealing thoughts.

The Death Eaters will begin to capture Order members soon, according to Scorpius' words. Yes, that was a good place to start. Death and torture.