The Deathly Hallows - Harry Potter Male Reader Insert

Arc 1 Chapter 10: Magic is Might

The door opened: A laugh­ing wom­an stood there. Her face fell as she looked in­to Har­ry's face: hu­mor gone, ter­ror re­plac­ing it...

"Gre­gorovitch?" said a high, cold voice.

She shook her head: She was try­ing to close the door. A white hand held it steady, pre­vent­ed her shut­ting him out ...

"I want Gre­gorovitch."

"Er wohnt hi­er nicht mehr!" she cried, shak­ing her head. "He no live here! He no live here! I know him not!"

Aban­don­ing the at­tempt to close the door, she be­gan to back away down the dark hall, and Har­ry fol­lowed, glid­ing to­ward her, and his long- fin­gered hand had drawn his wand.

"Where is he?"

"Das weiff ich nicht! He move! I know not, I know not!"

He raised his hand. She screamed. Two young chil­dren came run­ning in­to the hall. She tried to shield them with her arms. There was a flash of green light –

"Har­ry! HAR­RY!"

He opened his eyes; he had sunk to the floor. Hermione was pound­ing on the door again.

"Har­ry, open up!"

It had barely been even five minutes since they had all agreed that the infiltration of the ministry would take place the very next day, that Harry had got up from his seat, pale as all hell, and excused himself to the bathroom, trying his best not to reflexively clasp his forehead.

He had shout­ed out, he knew it. He got up and un­bolt­ed the door; Hermione top­pled in­side at once, re­gained her bal­ance, and looked around sus­pi­cious­ly. Ron and Ellie were right be­hind her, the former look­ing un­nerved as he point­ed his wand in­to the cor­ners of the chilly bath­room, the latter looking as though Harry had lost his mind.

"What were you do­ing?" asked Hermione stern­ly.

"What d'you think I was do­ing?" asked Har­ry with fee­ble brava­do.

"You were yelling your head off!" said Ron.

"Oh yeah... I must've dozed off or – "

"Har­ry, please don't in­sult our in­tel­li­gence," said Hermione, tak­ing deep breaths. "We know your scar hurt down­stairs, and you're white as a sheet."

Har­ry sat down on the edge of the bath.

"Fine. I've just seen Volde­mort mur­der­ing a wom­an. By now he's prob­ably killed her whole fam­ily. And he didn't need to. It was Cedric all over again, they were just there... "

"Har­ry, you aren't sup­posed to let this hap­pen any­more!" Hermione cried, her voice echo­ing through the bath­room. "Dum­ble­dore want­ed you to use Oc­clu­men­cy! HE thought the con­nec­tion was dan­ger­ous – Volde­mort can use it, Har­ry! What good is it to watch him kill and tor­ture, how can it help?"

"Be­cause it means I know what he's do­ing," said Har­ry.

"So you're not even go­ing to try to shut him out?"

"Hermione, I can't. You know I'm lousy at Oc­clu­men­cy. I nev­er got the hang of it."

"You nev­er re­al­ly tried!" she said hot­ly. "I don't get it, Har­ry – do you like hav­ing this spe­cial con­nec­tion or re­la­tion­ship or what – what­ev­er – "

She fal­tered un­der the look he gave her as he stood up.

"Like it?" he said qui­et­ly. "Would you like it?"