Foresaken (Old, being rewrote)

Truce and Pebbles

 It felt somewhat surreal, really. Or at least Harry thought so, the current situation reminded him much of his childhood and it nagged at the back of his mind. It reminded him of when he was a toddler, when he still tried to run and hide from his Aunt's and Uncle's abuse. Harry wasn't sure why, as he stood an actual chance and wasn't hiding under a bed or in a cupboard, maybe it was the feeling of doom or the tense feeling in the air.

Riddle and the gang would be back soon. Harry knew it, Tiernan knew it, and Kiwi knew it. Each were doing their own nervous activities as they prepared to see if their jinx traps, wards and other small surprises would be sufficient to stop the rage of Tom Riddle. Tiernan clearly thought it wasn't enough, as he hid under Harry's blanket like a child, huddled close to the wall. He had accepted Kiwi's company who was curled close and being pet by the Lestrange.

Harry sat on the edge of his bed, he sat in front of Tiernan and Kiwi and twirled his wand between his fingers, a blank look on his face as he stared at the door. He didn't want to show how nervous he was, or give a voice to the feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach.

For some terrifying reason that brought him back to fighting Voldemort was the itching fact his scar was tingling, the first feeling he's got from it since he died as Harry Potter. The fear of those days was trickling back, even if he knew Riddle wasn't Voldemort, he still had the same sadism and masochism, a group to make his life hell, and perhaps now the same hatred.

"You crazy bastard," Tiernan once again mumbled from under the blanket, "They're going to kill us, and I'm too handsome to die."

"We'll be fine," Harry drawled, looking over to the blanket mound Tiernan inhabited, "I even got a ward set up, we're good."

"Wards can be broken," Tiernan insisted, his ratty head of hair poking out of the blankets as he pulled them down to look at Harry, "Riddle is going to be pissed, his raw magic alone could probably collapse this. They're never going to find our bodies."

"Plu-lease," Harry chortled, but internally he knew that Riddle could most likely break this ward if he was angry enough, "have a little faith, c'mon Tiernan, we'll be fine. They won't find our bodies because we'll be alive. Besides, I'm a Peverell and you're a Lestrange, if we do die they will find our murderers."

"They'll cover it up," Tiernan insisted raising his hands to his hair, "my father doesn't care, I'm just another failure weeded out of the family for him."

"You'll be a success, just trust me," Harry casted a relaxed grin over to Tiernan who just shook his head as his lip trembled, "we'll live, live until you die, die until you life."

"Crazy bastard," Tiernan softly said, resting his head on the wall and closing his eyes, "we better live, we haven't even pulled a prank together yet."

"Exactly!" Harry grinned, "Now that's what I love to hear."

"We're going to Hogsmeade if we survive this too," Tiernan went on, frowning slightly for a moment, a grin spread across his face as he went on, "There's this cute boy I've been meaning to flirt with, wingman me?"

"Are you sure it's safe to just flirt with someone?" Harry asked, sounding concerned.

"It's your job as a wingman to make sure I don't become a victim of a hate crime!" Tiernan laughed, his smile not fading the slightest, "I've never had a wingman before, you are going to increase my chances ten-fold I bet."

"...or I'm going to stop a hate crime," Harry shook his head, a small smile on his face as Tiernan nodded quickly.

"Either way, I'm either safe or have a date," Tiernan shrugged, "A man gotta do, what a man gotta do."