Happy Sunday, Folks! And, is that a third Sunday in a row with a chapter? It is! It's because I love y'all. But also after this things are slowing down a little bit again. I'm going to try to maintain a normal schedule after this, though. We'll see how that turns out. Hopefully, I can keep things normal after this.
Please, let me know what y'all think, and, as always...
Enjoy!
So consumed by his thoughts, Harry scarcely noticed he was left alone in Robard's office. Pacing furiously, willing his brain to catch up with everything that had just happened, Harry tried desperately to figure out how to put things right.
Maybe he could wait here for Robards to return so he could curse him out, try to force him to free Draco, to see that this is entirely nonsensical. Or perhaps he could...
Harry didn't know what he could do. His whole body was hot and tense; tense with white hot rage vibrating through his body without a place to escape. He stared at Robards' empty desk. Part of him wished he'd physically fought him.
Draco is gone.
The thought made Harry's head pound, his veins surge with pent up energy that had to go somewhere fast before he exploded.
Crack.
There was now a spidering fracture in the plaster of the wall where Harry's fist had landed. It hadn't even been a conscious decision to do it, but it was better than hitting the first person he came across if he left the office in that state. Harry didn't like the feeling, but he had to admit he was calmer now. More grounded, at least. He flared his nostrils, ignoring the pain in his knuckles. Slowly and with purpose, he inhaled sharply through his nose. He needed to get Draco out. Now was no time to be throwing a temper tantrum...
He opened the door from Robards office to reveal the entire auror department staff, which all of whom? quickly pretended to have not heard the sharp crack from Harry's fist hitting the office wall. The door had hit the wall with a resounding snap from the force of his swing. John approached him first, looking concerned.
"Harry, maybe it's best you calm down first-"
"Fuck off, Dawlish," he spat, continuing past the Auror department with only one destination in mind: The ministry holding cells. Then a hand on his shoulder paused him- Ron, looking tired and wary.
"Mate... don't do anything stupid."
Harry huffed with barely restrained indignation. He knew Ron meant well, but bloody, bludgering fuck!
"It's too late for that." Harry grabbed at the badge in the front breast-pocket of his auror robes and threw it across the room, not caring that the entire department was watching the scene in stunned silence.
"I'm fucking done."
Harry stormed out of the department then, straight to the ministry elevators, his mind whirring up how many variations of absolutely fucked this whole situation was. He wondered what Draco was thinking, what was happening with him, how he was feeling, if he was even okay-
A hand caught the elevator doors just as they were about to close. Harry's brain barely caught up with his eyes as he registered Ron's face popping in while the elevator opened back up for him. He walked in silently, waiting until the elevator closed, beginning to pull them out and down.
"So, what're the chances that this plan doesn't get me fired?"
Harry fully looked at him, now, registering what Ron said. For a brief moment, he wanted to hug him. He didn't.
YOU ARE READING
Cicatrices- Marks That Remain
Fanfiction"Whoever conceals their sins does not prosper, but the one who confesses and renounces them finds mercy." Draco stopped, closing his eyes for the briefest of moments. He thought of the scars on his left arm. He thought of the scars across his torso...
