A/N: (still loves you all) ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ (Even though she a late updater. Really sorry, but the last couple of months I've had have been straight from hell, I swear. And they caused me to have the Writer-Block-of-Doom. (Which seem to have resulted in making this chapter more serious… Sirius! Haha. ((gets shot)) ...) But I'll spare you the details.
...That's exactly why I don't like people bugging me about me not updating, since it only stresses me more.)
For warnings, disclaimers and so on, read 'em in the prologue if you need 'em. Thanks!
Harry and Blaise managed to sneak out of the castle quite easily, and borrow the floo in one of the houses with little more trouble. That was how they found themselves outside of the Leaky Cauldron, watching the people buzz by.
What worried Harry was that a frighteningly high number of the people on the street were wearing t-shirts that said things like "Screw Zabini! …Or no… On second thought I'd rather have Potter!" and "I love Harry Potter" and "I'd accept it if Zabini was Italian."
Blaise snorted at the sight of the last one. "But I am part Italian…" he murmured.
Harry's personal favourite was: "Support Gay Love! Every Rule has its Exception – this Rule's Exception is the Potter-Zabini Marriage!" …Mostly because it made no sense or whatsoever.
…Blaise liked another one that said "Blairry is Hot" better.
Nevermind that most of the wizarding population normally was completely clueless about muggle fashions. Where had the robes gone?
Beside him, Harry sighed deeply and looked tired.
"I don't want to think about what would have happened if we hadn't disguised ourselves", said he, and Blaise had to agree.
"What are you going to do about your fans out there?"
To his great surprise, Harry didn't even grimace, but gave an evil grin – which made him look every bit the insane man he was, with his big, round sunglasses, his so called "mafia-hat" and the grey scarf draped around his shoulders.
…Then he took one big breath.
Blaise gasped, covering his ears – just in case.
…And Harry let out a high-pitched, girlish shriek.
"Oh. My. GOD!! It's Harry Potter! It's him, right, Juan!"
Blaise snorted and stroked his fake moustache – Harry had added it just as they got out of the secret passage.
Just then, Harry leant closer to Blaise, making him blush several different shades of black-ish pink.
…Was there even such a colour? ...If not, then Blaise had just invented it.
"Please wave your wand around a little and make an illusion of me or something!" Harry whispered quickly.
Blaise complied with his request without batting an eye-lash. It would be rather good not to be stampeded by frantic fans for "lying" about the boy-who-just-was-clearly-insane-and-just-would-not-bloody-die after all.
"It sure looks like that, Fernando, it sure does", he said in an eccentric voice, as chaos broke loose.
Blaise raised an elegant eyebrow and offered the troublemaker his arm, which he took with grace.
"Why yes, kind sir Juan."
So they began their shopping without any more trouble, just as an illusion of Harry Potter ran around the corner to flee from the crowd.
Harry took great delight in making Blaise make his copy scream loudly – an outdrawn "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" – Just like they always did in movies.
Back at Hogwarts, the biggest mess since Cornelius Fudge became the Minister of Magic could be seen. The Four Houses were in absolute and utter chaos.
The Hufflepuffs were torn between their loyalty for one of their own and their horror of all things un-dead that weren't plants.
The Ravenclaws chattered excitedly amongst themselves, tempted to kidnap the not-so-dead Hufflepuff and perform horrible experiments on him. Professor Flitwick didn't share their excitement though, and seemed extremely horrified instead.
The Gryffindors just said wide-eyed and open-mouthed at their table frozen in their movements, except from Colin Creevey who had yet again fainted and still continued to take pictures with his camera in his unconscious state – and Seamus Finnegan, who was busy staring at the living dead with a contemplative look on his face.
The Slytherins didn't seem as surprised at the appearance of one supposedly very dead Cedric Diggory as appreciative of the Head of their House's un-faced expressions as he calmly slurped his soup down.
At the Professors' Table, things didn't seem much better. As mentioned earlier, Professor Flitwick seemed very horrified, and had fallen of his chair with a loud squeak and then promptly fainted, and Professor Snape was ignoring his surroundings in favour of his soup – after all soup was almost like a potion right? If one had to have those annoying house elves at the castle, you could at least convince yourself that they were bearable for at least one reason … which, Snape had decided, was… soup.
Headmaster Dumbledore on the other hand, looked mildly traumatized at the display of a result that very clearly must had come from the Dark Arts. He was murmuring to himself about wool socks, apparently trying to sooth himself. Beside him, Minerva McGonagall was altering between hissing and scolding the Weasleys for bringing so much trouble into the school, and trying to unsuccessfully sooth the Headmaster.
Professor Sprout seemed to be frozen on the spot, much like the Gryffindors at their table.
And in the middle of the Great Hall, stood Cedric Diggory, lost and confused.
"Hmm", said Seamus, looking the dead person up and down appreciatively.
Dean unfroze quickly, and swatted his head angrily.
"Ow!" yelped Seamus, and Dean glared at him. He pouted. "Okay, okay, I get it… No ogling un-dead people."
Just when no one thought it could get messier, a large, shaggy dog burst into the Hall, swiftly running up to the Teachers' table. A second later a furious-looking man stood where the dog had been – the most fear man the wizarding world knew aside from Voldemort, by the way – and roared angrily at both the Headmaster and Snape.
"WHERE THE FUCK IS MY GODSON, AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HIM, YOU DISGUSTING, SLIMY, IDIOT SLYTHERIN BASTARDS?"
"Hey, Dean, dearest, what about insane criminals?" mumbled Seamus.
His boyfriend swatted his head again.
In their disguises, Harry and Blaise had an easy time getting around without being recognized. It didn't take them much time to get their money out of their vaults, and nothing really happened afterwards either, with the exception of being stared at by the goblins. Harry guessed they knew who he was and wondered about the outfit, so he shrugged it off. His companion seemed a bit unnerved though.
They also managed to get to Ollivander's without any incidents.
And there they were, standing at the door, wondering whether they should go inside and be senselessly scared to death by the creepy man that owned the shop or stay outside until the shopkeeper noticed. Harry didn't know about Blaise, but he himself preferred the latter.
It shouldn't take too long, after all. That shop keeper was eerily observant…
He shuddered. If it hadn't been for his own bloody stupidity he wouldn't even have needed to be here. But no! He just had to freaking trip and snap his own wand.
It was in a darkened mood he stood there with his husband and waited. And about his husband…
Harry wondered what would become of them now. They were married with no decent chance of divorce – and Harry was number one on Voldemort's hit-list, while Blaise was a Slytherin; those facts alone were enough to put them both in the risk zone. It wasn't that Harry didn't like Blaise or that he wouldn't risk a couple of things to keep him safe…
…It was just… that things were bound to get nasty very soon.
Many rumours had been flying around Blaise and his family circumstances for as long as he could remember since first going to Hogwarts, and they weren't very pleasant. Of course, back then he had shrugged them off as something that was usual for a slimy Slytherin. But now, he wasn't so sure.
His husband's mother had effectively killed off at least seven rich husbands for their wealth if the rumours were anything to go by. If she could gain Voldemort's favour by pressuring her son into taking the task to find Harry's weaknesses, then they were out for more than just a little trouble.
And if Blaise protested against it… Harry didn't want to think about it.
…It was also very likely that he would, if it came down to it – at least if Harry was correct in his assumptions that Blaise wasn't overly fond of his family.
Uneasily, he glanced at the dark boy beside him. Blaise gave him a questioning look, apparently not liking the brooding expression on Harry's face.
"What's eating you, Harry?" he asked, and his dark, smooth voice sent shivers down Harry's spine.
For a moment, Harry felt guilt flash briefly over his face – he wasn't about to tell Blaise the truth and make him worry if he could help it, but he didn't exactly like lying to a friend. He didn't care that Blaise was smart enough to figure all this out by himself, but if he hadn't… well, Harry wasn't about to put more dark thoughts into his head than necessary. So he quickly squashed that feeling, and opened his mouth to answer, reply that it was nothing at all.
Luckily, he never got so far. Before even one word had been uttered, Mr. Ollivander's voice drifted through the door, which they now realized had been slightly open the entire time they had been standing there.
"Come inside, gentlemen", beckoned the man. "I see no point in having you waiting outside when you could be inside, quite possibly making a very profitable deal with myself."
It struck Harry as odd and very out of character, the way the man was talking. But he realized that at least a couple of years had passed since he last visited the shop, which could have distorted his memory of the man somewhat. And even then, he couldn't have been sure that what he had seen was the shop keeper's true face. People were more three-dimensional than that… Especially men like Ollivander, who without a single doubt was very old, much older than he looked.
Ollivander chuckled dryly, as if he had read Harry's thoughts.
"Now, come inside. Some things are not meant to be seen by prying eyes, Mr… Fernando, Mr… Juan."
Harry shivered. It was eerie how the man seemed to know everything.
"Oh, but I do", said Ollivander, causing both Harry and Blaise to jump. Apparently, they had both thought the same thing.
"Sirius Black", murmured McGonagall, while all the members of the Order of the Phoenix present in the Great Hall were busy stunning the people who weren't members and obliviating them. "What are you doing here?"
"What's he doing out of prison!" shouted a Slytherin student who had yet to be stunned and obliviated. McGonagall quickly fired a spell that student too to remedy that.
"Actually, I think I gave you a question before", seethed the dog animagus. "I asked where the fuck my godson is, I believe. And while I'm at it, I want to ask why he's married to a bloody, sneaky, cowardly, bastard, fucking, stupid, sodding, slimy, dirty, bloody –"
"Um, Mr. Black? You used 'bloody' twice…" said Cedric helpfully.
"Thanks, kid… as I was saying; a bloody, sneaky, cowardly, bastard, fucking, stupid, harlot, sodding, slimy, dirty, annoying, filthy, landlubber –"
"– idiotic, moronic, inbreeded, power-hungry, greedy, ugly, spiteful, humour-denying, prank-hating, animal-killing, snake-loving, smelly, racist, foolish… Hey, by the way, aren't you supposed to be dead, kid?"
"Yeah, I thought so too", shrugged Cedric helplessly. "But apparently Ginny Weasley revived me."
"That's cool… where was I? Oh yeah… foolish, fly-bitten, calumnious –"
"I didn't even know he knew such a word. That's advanced for Black", commented Snape, whose only reason for not jumping at the escaped convict's throat yet was that he still hadn't finished his soup.
"Shut up, Snape!" growled Sirius. "… Calumnious, warped, ignorant, superficial, shallow, stinky, pain in the ass, onion-eyed –"
"– dribbling, faint-hearted, fat-kidneyed, villainous, double-chinned, blasted, boil-brained, dumb BLOODY FUCKING SLYTHERIN!"
"Done now, Mr. Black?"
"Yes. And your answer?" If glares could kill, the occupants of the Professors' table would all be goners by now.
"It was an accident", supplied Snape, his intentions not helpful at all. Then he threw his last spoonful of soup into Sirius' face. "Haha, take that! It' revenge!" he shouted gleefully, causing those who weren't stunned already to faint from the sheer oddness of seeing him so out of character.
"Um… Mister Ollivander?"
"Yes, Mr. Zabini?"
"Is that thing over there –"
"From a giant magical octopus, yes. Very rare. Their eyes and the ink have many magical properties. It's a pity the finder refused to sell me its whole body."
Blaise shivered. Harry looked strangely happy and commented on how he didn't even know octopuses had eyes.
They were standing in another section in the shop, which apparently was a secret if you asked Ollivander, and it reeked of danger to Blaise. There were so many magical things in there, he was getting dizzy. Never had he thought there was a place where the magic was more dense and concentrated than in Hogwarts, but since he was standing in the middle of the proof of that fact he now had to believe it. It could be the safest place in the world, but to Blaise it seemed like the most dangerous.
But he kept it to himself, as he was not about to explain to Harry just how he could feel all of this. It was Blaise's own secret. Plus, he doubted Ollivander would let anything happen to them in his very own shop – it would be bad for its reputation id someone managed to find out where the two boys had last been before their death.
Yes, he was safe.
The old man smiled knowingly at him, with a barely noticeable sadistic glint in his eyes.
Blaise shivered again.
And Harry seemed to be having the time of his life, looking at all the things in there and trying to find his wand ingredients.
Well, he seemed to be absolutely fine on his own, so Blaise slowly backed away from the whole spectacle, his eyes sweeping all over the place until he found a chair in a corner that he deemed somewhat safe.
About an hour later, it seemed Harry had literally stumbled over his first ingredient, knocking over a few bottles of unidentifiable liquids in the process.
Blaise had a hard time trying not to laugh.
His husband looked mildly harassed.
"But I wanted something cool!" he exclaimed, and Blaise had to bite his knuckles not to start giggling – that would be pure humiliation. Boys didn't giggle. They simply weren't supposed to in his opinion.
When Ollivander started preaching about not underestimating llama spittle, he couldn't help himself anymore. He started howling with laughter, causing Harry to toss him a very sour look.
"It's not that funny…" he grumbled.
"Was too!" said Blaise, barely containing his mirth enough to say it. Then he pointed at Ollivander, who was chuckling discretely, hiding in the shadows. "Even he thought it was funny!"
After that little episode, it took Harry and the shopkeeper three more hours to find the rest of the wand ingredients, and Blaise was bored out of his mind.
The things he did for his husband…
But it was funny in the end, especially since the rest of the ingredients turned out to be pixie wood – which had a tendency to bite people even after it was cut down and used – and two more things, since Harry had begged with his best puppy-eyed look for a spare wand. It wasn't exactly cheap, but probably worth it.
The spare wand would be made out of Absolute Vodka and holly.
Blaise fell out of his chair because he laughed so much. And Harry gave him the finger more times than he had fingers in return for it.
Not much later, they both walked out of the shop, much, much poorer, and much, much happier.
Or at least Blaise did.
Late in the evening, when the newlyweds came back to Hogwarts, their situation had been reversed. Now, Blaise was sulking, and Harry was happily skipping.
Because Harry had gotten decidedly wand-happy now that he had two new ones, and none of them were registered in the Ministry's records.
Oddly shaped and coloured balloons were now floating around all over Diagon Alley. Knockturn Alley had been invaded by a hoard of walking teddy-bears. Hugs all around!
…All courtesy of Harry, of course.
Not that those who were busy trying to clean the mess knew that. He could get sued, after all, so he had carefully hidden his tracks.
Oh, and he had bought an extremely cute hat for Blaise too! It was pink, sparkly and had bunny ears and lots and lots of ribbons.
Too bad the dark boy didn't seem to appreciate the gesture.
They just rounded a corner, on the way to the Slytherin common room, when they ran into Ginny.
She looked like hell, quite frankly, and Harry immediately told her so. The girl had dark circles under her eyes, and her flaming red hair was standing in every direction.
"Harry! I'm so glad to see you", she said, throwing her arms around him, not minding his comment at all.
When he glanced at Blaise, the boy looked half murderous, half worried, which was a very odd and scary combination.
"What's this about?" he asked Ginny softly, patting her head awkwardly.
She burst into tears and hiccupped.
"Well, everything's so wrong right now! And Sirius is here… He's on the prowl, looking for both you and Z-Zabini!"
Harry went cold.
"You know what, Blaisie-boy? We need a vacation. Badly. In fact, I think we shall take it right now. Call it a honeymoon if you want to. But we're going."
"Err… okay? … Wait. Sirius? Sirius Black!"
"Yeah, that one. We need to go."
"Fine by me! I value my life!"
"Harry, take me too! Please, I'm in a lot of trouble right now!"
"Why? Sirius likes you, you shouldn't be worried. Blaise and I, on the other hand…"
Ginny's lower lip trembled. "Harry, that's not the only thing…"
"Then what is it?" grumbled Harry.
He tapped his foot impatiently against the floor.
"It's about … you know…"
"No, I don't."
"Well…" she fidgeted nervously.
Harry was getting tired of this.
"Cedric Diggory", she said, finally.
"I… I sort of… woke him from the dead."
"Oh, so that was it."
It took a minute for the phrase to fully sink in.
Oh Bloody Fucking Hell and Bunny Slippers of Merlin.
"It is done, my Lord. We managed to set up a magical listening system in the Gryffindor Dorm without a hitch. We can now find out Potter's plans and weaknesses without any personal dangers."
"Good", hissed Voldemort maliciously. "I hope you won't disssssapoint me again, Wormtail…"
The rat animagus whimpered. "No, my lord."
The snake-man nodded and made a gesture towards a big, black box with a lot of buttons on it.
"Do it, my faithful ssssservant…" he said to the Death Eater who stood the closest to it.
"Yes, my Lord!" he said, and pressed the biggest button on the box, and suddenly some very loud voices were heard, along with groans and moans that suggested some very private and pleasurable things were done in the Gryffindor Tower.
"Oh Dean, yes! Yes! Ooh, right there! Yes! Harder! I-I s-swear I won't ever have a… a… d-dream of buggering a c-convicted murderer again! Mm, right there! I don't e-even know why I h-had them to begin with! ♥"
"Good! …Fuck, Seamus…!"
"God, yes! ♥"
"I like it when you call me God, Seamus! Say it again! ♥"
"Nngh… God, Dean! ♥"
Ash-faced, the Dark Lord turned to his faithful Death Eaters, but they all pointed to Peter Pettigrew before he even got to ask them who was responsible. He sighed.
"It's getting very old now, isn't it, Wormtail? Oh well… Crucio."