When Harry met Wednesday

Chapter 22: Temper, Temper

Author's Note: Well... it's been a while since I last updated huh? As some of you know, I've been busy dealing with Murphy's law. I can't promise that things will go back to normal now, but I certainly hope to get the next chapter up in a much more timely manner.

As always, thank you all for reading, and special thanks to those who review. I greatly appreciate the feedback, so let me know what you think.

Additional thanks goes to Jonn Wolfe, for putting together the new cover image. Now you guys don't have to look at my ugly mug. :)

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Chapter 22
Temper Temper

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Not even the full force of Voldemort's cruciatus came close to the exquisite pain that Harry felt as he made his way toward the solitude of the Chamber of Secrets. His heart felt like it was being twisted apart. He could understand his father hating him, in many ways he was expecting it, but not wanting anything to do with him? Trying to disown him? Harry couldn't fathom how a father could feel that way.

He was so caught up wallowing in his pain, that he never noticed that someone was following him.

Trying to hide in the shadows, a sadistic smirk formed as the silent figure saw Harry enter the bathroom. Drawing their wand, they rushed forward to take advantage of their cornered victim.

Myrtle wasn't in her bathroom. Harry figured she was either peeping in the prefect's bath again, or exploring the Black Lake; which suited him just fine, he wanted to be alone to process everything. Resting his hands on the sink that marked the Chamber's entrance, Harry paused to take a deep breath. Suddenly, something slammed into the back of his head, forcefully smashing his forehead into the mirror.

As the mirror shattered, shards of glass bit into his flesh, causing rivulets of blood to run down his face. Both figuratively and literally, Harry saw red. As he whipped around to confront whoever was intruding on his solitude, he drew his dagger, and sent it flying through the air.

A meaty thunk, followed by a string of foul language, let Harry know he had hit his target. Wiping the blood from his eyes with one hand, he drew his wand with the other. The large form of Thomas Selwyn was bearing down on him with murder in his eyes.

With one arm hanging limp thanks to the dagger embedded in his shoulder, Selwyn's wand was already trained on Harry. "I was just going to teach you a lesson Potter, but now I'm mad. Crucio!"

The sharp wave of pain that passed through Harry caused him to shudder involuntarily, an unfortunate twitch of his hand sent his wand skittering across the tiles. Falling to one knee, he took a deep breath and gritted his teeth to bite back a moan.

"Not so tough after all, are you Potter?" Selwyn taunted with a cruel sneer. "I can't believe that ponce Malfoy is scared of you."

"Not too bad Selwyn... I mean nothing like Voldemort's, but you're not half bad with the cruciatus." Letting himself fall back into a seated position, Harry smiled up at his attacker. "That was nice, but I'm really not in the mood for this sort of thing right now. We can play some other time, right now I just want to be alone."

Harry's attitude confused Selwyn, causing him to pause. "I don't think you understand the situation Potter. I'm going to hurt you so bad, it will take Saint Mungo's months to put you back together."

Harry smiled wider. "Oh no, I get it. You're trying to make up for trying to torture Wednesday by torturing me. We are a couple, engaged now, so you really should hurt us both together, that would be the proper way to do things."