If Paths Diverge

Chapter 43

Harry raised his wand instinctively when Robards and Percy entered the cell, accompanied by a very disconcerting unconscious copy of himself, though his twin looked thoroughly beaten and starved.

Voldemort gasped and began to shout for Harry to be brought to him, but everyone ignored him. He was still forced to comply with Hermione's command to be still so he could not get there by himself.

Robards eyed Harry's wand and frowned.

"You would turn your wand on me to protect this creature, Potter?"

"I would do more than just point it at you if we weren't in this room, Sir," Harry said, lowering his wand, ready to pummel him unconscious.

He turned to face Percy and his adrenaline spiked.

"You are dead for what you've done here. What is wrong with you?"

Percy sneered.

"I'm a hero, Potter. Guess you don't recognize what a good person looks like any longer, considering what you've been doing." Percy laughed, crossing his arms. "And you faggots are just too easy to catch! Merlin, it would be almost romantic if it wasn't so vile."

Robards gave a hum of agreement and turned to Hermione.

"Granger. I'm surprised to see you turned traitor considering this whole operation was your idea."

"You took it too far, Gawain," she said heatedly. "I only wanted him recaptured. What you did with Percy is sick and I will not stand behind it."

"So what is your alternative?" Robards shot back. "Are you two here to free this filth again?"

His eyes slid to Harry and he raised his eyebrow condescendingly.

"Is his prick really that compelling that you'll enslave yourself to him for it? You'll endanger the whole world to get a chance to bend over for this disgusting freak?" Robards chuckled. "Funny, when I had him, it wasn't—"

Harry's stomach clenched.

When I had him.

I had him.

Harry made a strangled, pained sound and ran forward, pulling out his sharpened toothbrush and stabbing it into the man's neck. Hermione screamed and Percy quickly hauled him off, punching him in the face, but Harry struggled with him and then pinned the asshole onto his back, striking him repeatedly.

Hermione was shouting at him to stop, but he was lost to the satisfying sound of his fist smashing into that sanctimonious face, revelling in the blood that soaked his skin, the pain in his knuckles as he made contact again and again—

Hermione struck Harry once just over his eye and Harry was so shocked by it that she succeeded in grabbing him by his hair and yanking him off.

"You're going to kill him!" she screamed.

Harry was on his back, breathing hard. Eyes closed. He was trying to block out all the images that Robards's words had created, but it was no use. He saw his boss, a man he used to respect, holding Voldemort down as the Dark Lord begged him not to, plunging his unworthy cock deep inside his lover, raping him, hurting him—

He opened his eyes.

"Let me," he said.

"No, Harry!" she said, crouching down and shaking him by his shirt. "We are not here to kill them!"

She looked back at the other two and then went to them. Harry rolled over to watch, but he didn't really care about their condition so he shuffled to look at Voldemort who was staring back at him with wide eyes.