Angels and Devils (Harry Potter Fanfiction)

Chapter 15. Breaking Point

There was still no sign of a solution on the horizon and Harry had been locked up for three and a half days. He was beginning to think there was no way out of this and he was more than a little depressed. Trying to put on a brave face he smiled at Poppy whenever she came in and tried to sound confident during his nightly talks with Dumbledore, but it seemed almost hopeless. Over the last day he had noticed that when the door opened the desire to escape was becoming stronger again; nowhere near as bad as it had been before the double wards, but never-the-less uncomfortable.

Good sense told him that he should tell Poppy exactly what he was feeling, but the memory of the restraints was too fresh. He just couldn't bring himself to do it. He did not want to find himself flat on his back tied to the bed again, and he told himself he'd tell her if it became too bad, but for now he could live with it.

The news about Malfoy had been sparse, but it seemed he was in nowhere near the same state as Harry. The part-Veela was locked in so he couldn't do anything stupid, but with Harry behind very strong wards there had been no need to restrain Malfoy with anything like the charm which prevented Harry from moving from his bed. In one-way Harry was glad that he had not caused Malfoy as much grief as he had caused himself, but another, rather petty part resented that his object of desire seemed to be finding this easier than he was.

To his chagrin, Harry found himself dwelling more and more on Malfoy, even though he was trying to occupy himself with reading and homework. It was quite unsettling to suddenly snap out of a daydream and not realise when he had started or for how long he had been drifting.

He was sitting cross-legged on the bed with his transfiguration textbook in his lap when he felt the first stirrings of something. Not sure why he was doing it, Harry looked up towards the door and frowned. It was a very odd sensation, knowing that he was aware of something, but not knowing what that something was. For a few moments he sat very still trying to figure out what was going on.

Very slowly his frown began to deepen. He felt the beginnings of anger stirring in the pit of his stomach. He had no idea why he was angry, but he could feel the emotion twisting through his body, running up his spine and curling into his brain, leaving tendrils through every nerve.

There was a tearing noise and he looked down to find that the page he had been reading was now scrunched up in his fist. His knuckles were white and almost against his will he found himself moving. It took only a small shift for him to reach what felt like a padded wall, which was what his mind made of the charm to keep him on the bed. Unable to control his reaction he growled low in his throat and his wing nubs shifted under his pyjama shirt.

For a moment he managed to reign in his instincts. Shutting his eyes tightly he demanded that his mind and body obey him, but it was unsustainable. Within seconds he pushed against the invisible barrier, and when it did not give, he snarled and his wings flared out of his back, shredding his top in the process. There was very little first-hand knowledge about Seraphim magic; most of the research was speculation and hearsay, and the charm on him and the bed was no match for the reality. As his wings sliced through the air they went straight through the spell and it collapsed with a loud pop.

Harry was moving towards the door before he thought about it. He pressed up against it, listening, even though it was highly unlikely that he would hear anything through two walls and such strong wards. Even though he had freed himself from the bed the anger did not dissipate, in fact it was still building. Something was going on outside of his prison and the Seraphim part of him was very interested in it.

Bringing back both arms in a sweeping gesture he brought them to bear on the door with a tremendous thud. The oak shook at the impact, but it did not give. Suddenly Harry felt his anger spike and from annoyed he went to completely furious in a heartbeat. In a moment he knew why; he was being challenged; someone was trying to take his mate. He had never felt such fury, not even when he had killed Voldemort. Harry stepped back from the door, completely intent on his next course of action.