Disclaimer: Of course not. That's ridiculous.
The young man hardly broke a sweat as he rolled under a deadly green light that nearly grazed his ear. He allowed a small dagger to fall into his palm and then threw it faster than a blink. His aim was true as the man who cast the Unforgivable fell with a hard thud, his neck bleeding profusely. The dark-haired man turned to the last survivor.
"Hello Carrow," Harry purred.
"D-don't come near me," the older man warned, his wand arm shook as he pointed it at the other man.
The man tsked. "Don't you idiots never learn? Wands will not always save you." And with that last line, he disappeared. Carrow gasped, shocked, as he looked fearfully around the desolate area and the bodies littered on the floor.
"Boo," a voice whispered in his ear and Carrow let an ear-splitting shriek that was cut off as his head rolled off his shoulders.
Behind him, the dark-haired man tipped his head, breathing in the air, his sword dripping blood. Emerald eyes glinted in the dark as he giggled madly and vanished just as the first pop sounded. The Aurors were too late, of course, and they were left staring in horror at the blood-soaked ground of the twelve dead bodies of Death Eaters.
In a room that was barely lit, a sharp smack was sounded through its silenced-proof walls.
Harry Potter let out a giggle as his hand touched his stinging cheek, an insane sparkle glittering in the deep depths of his vivid green eyes.
"You're getting worse!" Hermione Granger, his best friend, and former lover gazed darkly at him, her mouth pressed in a tight line.
"Leave him be, Hermione," came a tired voice from the shadows. "He'll never learn."
"Why Ron," Harry mocked, "are you defending me?"
"I am not you bloody prat," Ron spat as he got off his worn-out chair. "I'm just pointing out the obvious. We can't stop you. The only way we can is if we turn you in or kill you. We can't turn you in because that's bloody impossible and well, we lost our chance a long time back if we desired your death now."
Harry's face blanked. Hermione sighed and rubbed her face tiredly. "Get cleaned up Harry. And for God's sake, get your blade out of my sight, it's dripping blood all over the floor," she said wearily. "And once you're decent, I'll pour you a cup of tea."
Hermione and Ron watched Harry dismiss them and wander off, presumably to his room. Hermione leaned against Ron's shoulder. "Merlin. I can't take this anymore."
Ron gently stroked his wife's wavy hair and kissed her forehead.
"All that matters is that we're here for him, even though he doesn't know it. And really- he's only killing the bad guys. Be glad he's not turning on the innocent."
"But that's the point, Ron!" Hermione snapped. "We have the Ministry for that. The criminals need to have trials so we can know if they are innocent? Are you forgetting that they can also be redeemed or are already? Do you not remember Severus Snape? Draco Malfoy? Regulus Black? Narcissa Malfoy? And-"
"Okay, okay I get your point. And-" Ron's brow furrowed. "Wait who else was in your list?"
Hermione blushed and nervously twirled her hair with a finger. "Um. Igor Karkaroff?"
Ron rolled his eyes. "Really?"
Hermione's cheeks grew red, "well now we'll never know if there's more, can we? If Harry goes around, brutally murdering every one of them."
"Hermione," Ron said placatingly, "this is still Harry. You know he can sense what they have done. If they truly haven't committed despicable acts, he would not kill them."
"And who is he to be the judge of who should deserve death or not?" Hermione demanded. "He's not a god, Ron. And how would he know if they wish to redeem themselves? He can only know what they have done. What about Lucius Malfoy? He seemed to feel guilty and he should of at least gotten a life-sentence to Azkaban, now that they don't have Dementors swarming the place. And- and Harry killed him."
Ron paled at the mention of that particular Death Eater's grisly death. "Well," he said weakly, "he deserved to die. Maybe not like… that, but Hermione, we saw Malfoy slay a Muggle child right in front of our eyes."
Hermione turned toward her husband, her warm breath on his lips. "This is why," she said softly. "This is why I believe he has no right to kill whomever he wants. Everyone has a different opinion and this is why we all need to come together and decide whether someone is guilty or not. It's not right for one person to be the judge and executioner."
Ron sighed. "Maybe. But for now, let's think about something else." He peered into Hermione's eyes and she melted into him as they shared a deep kiss.
'Where are Ron and Hermione?" Ginny asked as Harry stalked into the living room and sat next to her.
"Making love, of course," Luna, who sat across from Harry, said dreamily as she twirled her hair, a habit that Hermione picked up from her.
Ginny choked on her tea. "Luna!" she complained. "You don't say such things, I really don't want to hear about any one of my brother's love lives."
Luna cocked her head sideways. "Then what do you want to hear about?" she questioned. "Surely not about the breeding habits of Wrackspruts? If we do go further into that topic, we can discuss Harry's most recent encounter with a whole infestation of them."
Harry nodded sagely. "Nasty little buggers. They keep popping up everywhere."
Ginny burrowed her face in her hands and let out a loud, dramatic groan.
Severus next saw Evengline near the Great Lake, skipping stones.
"Nice," he remarked as he saw one stone skip across the water at least ten times.
"Why, thank you," Evengline gave a little bow.
Severus took one of the stones Evengline offered and they both watched it bounce a measly three times.
"Do not worry," Evengline said airily, "that's pretty good for a beginner."
"And how did you come to the conclusion that I am a beginner?" Severus demanded.
"Well my dear Professor," Evengline gracefully bounced another stone, "you don't seem like a man who enjoys skipping stones near a lake all by yourself. And," he said conspiratorially, "I met Slytherins. Their would typically defend themselves by saying that they are indeed a beginner because if they said otherwise, it would be quite embarrassing, no?"
Severus was secretly amused, though he kept his face blank. He did scowl, however, when the skipping stone finally sank to the bottom at its fifteenth bounce. Show off.
"And if you were a true Slytherin, Professor Evengline, you would notice they would not even skip a stone."
Evengline looked dubious. "Then why did you?"
Severus sniffed haughtily at him. "There is no shame in admitting at not being proficient at such a wasteful and frivolous activity such as stone skipping."
Evengeline laughed. "Call me Gabrial, Professor. Professor Evengline is a mouthful."
Severus sneered. "I do hope you don't expect me to graciously offer you to be on a first-name basis with me, Evengline. We'll keep our relationship at a professional distance."
"You call Minerva and Fillius by their first names and vice versa."
Severus gave a soft snort at the mention of the short Charms Professor. After the meeting, the two chatted up a storm, and Severus and probably Fillius as well could barely keep up with about half of the things Evengline blathered about.
He rolled his eyes. "Why are you so eager for this? If you wish, you may call me by my given name."
They began to walk away from the Lake and towards the school.
"Thank you," Gabrial grinned. "I thought I would have to bug you for days."
"I am a Slytherin, Eveng-" Severus caught himself, "Gabrial, we never do the expected. We always keep everyone on their toes."
"I can see that," Gabrial said, sounding amused.
"Have you gotten your lesson plans ready?" Severus said, changing the topic.
"Oh yes," Gabrial's grin looked a little vicious. "Have you."
"I realized I have a passion for teaching when I was a teen actually. It's wonderful seeing students mastering a spell you taught them," Gabrial smiled a little wistfully.
Severus secretly agreed, but with potions replacing the word spell. It always made his chest grow warm with pride when his more intelligent students grew more advanced in the art.
"Why were you out anyway?" Gabrial suddenly asked. "It can't be because you wished to brush up your dismal skipping stone skills?"
Severus sneered at him. "I was taking a stroll, hoping I didn't run into any talkative dunderheads." He looked pointedly at Gabrial who rolled his eyes.
"Taking a stroll? Do you often do so? Because you're so pale," he teased, "one would think you lock yourself in to brew potions all day. After all, you are the youngest Potions Master. You must invent a potion almost every day."
Severus looked affronted, nevermind that he did spend most of his days in his labs, brewing. "And what about you?" he said disdainfully, "do you run around aimlessly all day, creating spells and dueling just because you are the youngest Defense Master in a century? Doesn't seem like you'd be the type to participate in brainless activities such as Quidditch." Severus had in fact heard about Gabrial's prowess in Quidditch. The young man was all but a professional player, the Puddlemere United had basically adopted him as one of their own.
Gabrial dipped his head, a tiny hint of red on his cheeks. "Touche." He hummed for a moment. "It doesn't change the fact that you are so pale."
"Perhaps I'm secretly a vampire, waiting for the right moment to drain your blood and make you my next victim," Severus said dryly.
The young man's eyes grew wide in surprise, stopping suddenly, causing Severus to almost barrel right into him. Gabrial then let out a loud shriek of laughter, startling the Potion's Master.
His merriment was unceasing, but it gradually turned into high-pitched giggles, making Gabrial sound like a small child. His laughter sounded familiar, and Severus nearly missed his colleague's next comment, while wondering why he found the noise recognizable.
"You're full of laughs Severus," Gabrial said, shaking his head in amusement. "Just listening to them makes my day."
"I'm glad to be of service," Severus drawled, pleased. The dark-haired man just rolled his eyes and threw an arm around Severus, whose hand twitched towards his wand at the sudden contact.
"I wish to see you brew," Gabrial declared, his nose in the air.
Severus quirked an eyebrow, "your wish is my command."
An hour later of snide remarks and more giggling, there were potion ingredients decorating the floor of Severus' lab and Gabrial standing of to the side looking sheepish.
"Potions is not my strong suit, as you can see," The dark-haired man cleared his throat self-consciously as Severus threw him an incredulous look as he stirred clockwise for an advanced Healing potion he was preparing for the Infirmary.
"I have seen less dismal skills from my first-year," Severus snarked.
"Hey, in my defense, I had a bad teacher. He was always more interested in degrading me in every way possible, hindering me from learning or showing any interest in potions."
Severus shook his head. "You cannot let others define who you are. It is your own fault you can't brew simple potions, not your instructor's. Sometimes there are instructors who do not know how to teach, but that is what self-study is for. You must have done some to get to the level you are in now."
The younger man seemed to be contemplating something. There was a look in his eyes that Severus for the life of him couldn't comprehend.
"You may be right," he murmured and that was it. With a brisk sweep of his wand, the splattered ingredients on the floor vanished and Gabrial left the room, stating that he had to go buy some supplies for Defense. Severus discreetly watched him leave, unable to understand why he felt such ease with the man and why he felt so familiar.