Rage

(It's a cramped studio. A frowning girl with red hair and a sword strapped over her back is making her way through a book covered floor over to a desk where Wanda is napping, several scrips around her)

Tyene: Really? Another one?

(Wanda jumps up and flushes guiltily): I couldn't help it! I'm still updating everything else, I just wanted to punch another ticket!

Tyene: You're going to give yourself an aneurysm at this rate.

Wanda: (stubbornly) No, I'm not. I'm just punching the Harry/Carrows ticket. For originality! (realtively) I do not own Harry Potter!

Tyene: Don't say I didn't warn you...

Chapter 1: Cold

"With a tortured soul, and a wicked design. Your will cannot endure, and your heart is torn away." - Serpentine, Disturbed

To be truthful, Harry Potter always tried to keep his anger inside.

It had never helped him before. Whoever was tormenting him always had the upper hand in ways he could never react to without punishments that could not be endured. Either it was Dudley (who was protected by his parents) the kids at school (who were protected by the teachers) his aunt/uncle (who were protected by their jobs and 'middle class living') or by the kids at his new school (who were also being protected by their teachers). Harry had been taught when he was young that justice was something that happened to other people, not him. Goodness was something given to people who stepped on others to get what they wanted.

He had thought that was wrong, initially, when he came to Hogwarts. He got two friends, a power he had never known he possessed, and a chance to start a new life. Part of him had wondered initially if this was some sort of hoax, and now he was beginning to think there was merit to that.

It was when his name came out of the Goblet of Fire after it had already chosen its three champions that he had begun to realize this. The teachers refused to pull him out despite it being extremely obvious that something was wrong.

Then...his two best friends had betrayed him. Harry was beginning to wonder why he hadn't expected this from the start, especially when it had happened before. Once, a couple of kids in the playground had offered to let him hang out with them, even offering him part in the school play. Harry had been ecstatic, not even considering the consequences, and threw himself into it. What had resulted was an onstage humiliation not unlike Carrie White's, one that had destroyed Harry's ability to believe that he could ever have real friends.

And yet he had still been tricked, even for a few years! How could he have been so stupid?

Harry hadn't been outwardly angry in a long time. He tried to keep it all inside. After all, getting angry made him lash out. And when he lashed out, it was always his fault. Because the opponents were all 'protected'. It would always be his fault for 'retaliating' or 'starting it' when he should have 'been the bigger man' or whatever the teacher would say after the incident.

Ron accused him of being an attention-seeking glory hound. As if there was anything he could want less! Harry would gladly give up everything, the scar, the fame, the money if he could just live a day with his mother, a woman so wonderful she was willing to die for him.

Harry didn't want fame at her expense, especially when she was the one that saved him! It wasn't he who stopped the dark lord, it was his mother's love, Dumbledore had said so directly!

Hermione had lectured him for getting into trouble. For breaking the rules. They were all things she had said before when dangers had come around, except Harry had always ignored them. He had always wanted to believe that she was his friend. That belief had made him gullible and stupid.

They both abandoned him for not being a 'true friend'.

Harry was sad – heartbroken – but he was also angry. All that anger inside him, that he had kept there for many years, was boiling and threatening to come out.

He was angry at the Headmaster for letting this happen to him, for letting all these terrible things happen to him, for not beliving him when he had begged not to be sent home to the Dursleys.

He was angry at Ron and Hermione, for duping him and leaving him with this terrible pain in his heart, tearing open an old wound and making him hurt far more then any of Voldemort's attempted murders had.

He was angry at the school that was ostracizing him, turning him into a joke, wearing 'Potter stinks' badges just to show how much they hated him.

But most of all, he hated himself, for falling for it. He had believed that he was getting a chance to be welcomed, wanted, but it was just another cage like the primary school or the Dursleys. At least back there, he knew where he stood. He wasn't praised one moment and reviled the next, but still expected to save the school. He felt like a fool, they had done this exact same thing in the second year where everyone believed that he had opened the Chamber of secrets. He had been so desperate and they had used him quite nicely, hadn't they.

He had to get away, had to hide somewhere where he could unleash all this horror without reprisal. What he he had found was the Astronomy Tower, the highest point in the castle which always remained unused during the daytime.

Harry threw the door open with a bang and was surprised by what he saw.

The door to the balcony was wide open. A green and silver cloak – a Slytherin one – was ripped and flung over a chair. Books were strewn all over the floor. Harry walked towards the balcony, and standing in his life of view was a girl.

She was standing on the railing with her back to him. Her clothes were tattered and muggle, which surprised him – he thought all Slytherins were purebloods who would rather die then be associated with muggles. Her hair long and unkempt, the dirty golden brown strands tossing in the strong wind. She was rail thin and extremely pale.

Harry had an inkling what she was preparing to do. The thought had crossed his mind when Ron and Hermione had ranted at him after the Goblet, forcing him to sleep in the common room.

Flashback

"You always have to be in the spotlight, huh?! Why couldn't you tell me you were going to do it too?! Do you think your friends don't deserve eternal glory too?!"

"Harry, why would you do that?! Only students above seventeen can be allowed to participate!" It was her special tone of voice, too – the superior 'I expected better from you' voice that all teacher's pets have perfected.

"I didn't do it! I don't want eternal glory!"

"Some friend you are! Until you quit lying to me you're no longer my friend! I deserve better then this!"

"Harry, I'm really disappointed...you shouldn't lie to your friends...I'm going to talk to Professor Dumbledore."

Both his friends left him there, the crowd parting before them. Some of the other gryffs laughed, causing Harry to shrink back into the couch, struggling not to cry.

End Flashback

Harry walked out onto the balcony, his eyes never leaving the other girl. He was struck by an intense feeling of empathy, of kinship for this slytherin girl who also felt like life was too painful to live.

"Do you really want to do that?"

The girl gasped and spun around, facing him. She nearly fell over backwards with the sudden movement, but Harry grabbed her hand and steadied her. She looked at him in utter shock, unsure of what to make of his presence.

"Do you really want to jump?" Harry repeated his question, looking into her eyes. They were mismatched – one was blue, the other green. He was also struck by the scars – there were scars on her check and neck, noticeable ones. That was strange – usually the mediwitch could clean them up so well that not even scars were left behind from serious injuries.

"I...I..." The girl's words were so low they were nearly ripped away by the wind. "Please...I don't...I can't...I don't want trouble..."

"Neither do I." Harry said. "But now that I've seen you here, I can't exactly let you fall, can I? I'd have to be a pretty terrible person."

The girl blinked owlishly at him, as if he was speaking another language. She looked down at his hand, which was still holding hers to keep her on the rails. Gently Harry pulled her towards him, catching her when her legs wobbled and she fell forward.

She was so light – wasn't she eating? The dinners at Hogwarts were always capable of feeding twice the number of students it was hosting. The girl flinched slightly in his arms, so he let her stand on her own though he still held her hand to keep her from running back to the railing.

"Please let go," She begged.

"I can't." Harry said quietly. "I'm sorry. If I do, if I let you kill yourself, I would never forgive myself."

"But it wouldn't be wrong," The girl pleaded, staring tearfully at him. "It would be a mercy...please, I have to do it now..."

"No," Harry repeated. "Tell me what's wrong. I promise, I won't be like the teachers, I won't be like the parents. I'll try and help you."

The girl looked frightened at this. "How...how did you know...?"

Harry's lips twitched slightly into what could be an ironic smile. "When I saw you there...I knew what you must be thinking. Because I've been thinking it too."

"You...?" The girl echoed in timid wonder, blinking tears away to see him clearly. "But...but how...?" She flushed and stared at the ground. "I'm sorry, that's a stupid question. Everyone's being really horrible to you over the hijacked goblet." Confusion flooded her expression. "But why would you...don't you have..."

Harry let out a short laugh; the sheer bitterness of it surprising him. "Oh, you don't even know the half of it."

Gently he lead her back inside the Astronomy Tower, closing the door and charming it shut. The girl flinched slightly, but at this point Harry let go of her and sat down on the floor. He made a point of dropping his wand and kicking it away from him.

"There. See? I'm not going to hurt you." He said. The girl looked wonderingly at him, before slowly crumpling to the floor, wrapping her arms around her legs.

"What's your name?"

"Hestia. Carrow." The girl said miserably. "There. Are you going to curse me now?"

"What? Why would I do that?"

"Because my parents were death eaters." Hestia said sadly, fear flashing through her eyes. "They're evil, horrible, twisted, ugly, hateful people. They worked for the man who killed your mother and father."

Harry took a moment to absorb this. So Hestia was like Malfoy in the sense that she had Death Eaters for parents.

But she didn't act like Malfoy. Where Draco trumpeted his father's occupation and beliefs with pride, Hestia seemed to shrink under the very mention of her parents. Where Draco cheered his father, she was condemning them – out loud.

"Why would I hurt you because of that?" Harry asked, genuinely confused. "You didn't kill them. You haven't done anything to me."

"What, never heard of guilt by association?" A new voice snarled from behind them. Harry and Hestia both scrambled to their feet. Another girl had come to join them. She looked almost identical to Hestia – they must be twins like Fred and George, Harry realized.

"Flora," Hestia started in protest, but Flora was busy staring challengingly at Harry.

"Don't you know? All Slytherins are Death Eaters, or hiding Death Eaters. We're all evil, huddled in chairs by the fire planning our next dastardly move. Even if we're not doing anything, it's obviously because we're hiding the actions of people who are." Flora spat on the floor, daring him to contradict her. "We all deserve to be punished for what Moldyshorts-"

"Flora!" Hestia whimpered in terror,

"-has ever done," Flora went on, waving her sister off. "If we ever get some praise or victory, we obviously don't deserve it. And god help you if you don't believe in Moldyshorts, because you're only choices are people who hate you, and people who pretend to accept you but really hate you too."

Her breath came out heavily as she finished ranting. Clearly she had been wanting to say this for some time. "I don't give a shit what you think you know about us, Golden Boy. If you knew the truth, would you even care? The headmaster doesn't, you're noble head of house doesn't."

"Flora!" Hestia protested, her voice finally raising over the other girl's. "He- He just helped me...!"

Flora paused at this, frowning and looking between them. "Why would he do that?" She asked, half to herself. "What does he want?"

"I DON'T WANT ANYTHING!" Harry bellowed, his anger spilling over at last. Flora jumped backwards, one hand on her wand, but she didn't draw. "I HELPED HER BECAUSE I THOUGHT SHE NEEDED IT! I'M NOT DOING ANYTHING FOR FAME AND FORTUNE! IF IT WAS MY CHOICE, I WOULD GIVE AWAY ALL THIS BLASTED BOY WHO LIVED FAME JUST SO I COULD HAVE ONE DAY WITH MY MOTHER!"

Flora stared back at him, eyes wide. Hestia looked frightened but determined as she scrambled between them.

"She didn't mean it!" Hestia said desperately, holding open her hands as though protecting Flora from a firing squad, "It's just, sometimes everything's a bit too much for Flora and she says things she shouldn't-"

Flora pulled her back, muttering, "You don't have to protect me, Hestia!", but Harry's anger was already draining away at the fear in Hestia's eyes. It was true; neither girl in front of him deserved to take the brunt of what wasn't their fault.

"I'm sorry," He muttered, dropping his head and turning away. "I think I'm going a little mad now. There's just – this is all -" He made an angry noise and threw himself into a nearly chair, rubbing his fingers against his cheek.

A moment of silence filled the room. After a few uncertain moments, the soft sound of footsteps brought Harry out of his thoughts. Hestia was kneeling down in front of him, looking worried.

"I'm sorry, Harry." She whispered.

Harry shook his head rapidly. "God, don't say sorry to me." He said impatiently. "I'm not angry at you, so I shouldn't have blown up at you."

Flora still looked wary, but took a few steps forward to join them. "No, that's not what I meant," Hestia said. "You have a lot on your plate right now without having our problems thrown in your face too. Especially since everyone's accusing you of being a liar, you shouldn't have to be hearing about being a bigot too."

Harry waved his hand, still looking down at the floor, "I'm telling you, it's fine...though that's nice of you. More then anyone in my house has offered me." He gave her a slight smile at this. Hestia hesitantly returned the gesture.

Flora let out her breath. "Sorry," She muttered. "I haven't been having a good day."

"That seems to be a theme," Harry said dryly. Hestia giggled a bit, though Flora's scowl didn't crack.

"Why are you up here by yourself?" Hestia asked. "Shouldn't Ron and Hermione be with you?"

Harry sighed. "I learned the hard way, once again, that people who claim to want to be friends can be lying to you." He said. "The whole tower, in this case."

Flora sat down on the floor, joining her sister. "So they're all falling for the 'Potter put his name in' act? Please. Even if my daddy wasn't a crowing death eater, I could tell that was a setup."

Harry's head jerked up. "Wait a minute. Do you know about this?"

"Flora!" Hestia whimpered. "They will kill us!"

"What could they possibly do that they haven't already done to us?" Flora asked bitingly. "Torture? Imprisonment? Drag us out to 'let's torture some muggles' nights? I've been there, done that, and I don't care anymore."

Harry stared at Flora, who admissioned so easily that her parents tortured her. She said it as if it was a fact of life, one bitterly accepted, but inescapable. She sounded like he did, sometimes, in the dark of night when no one could hear him.

Flora stared back at him, eyes narrowing again. "I'm not making that up," She said through gritted teeth, "for a sympathy grab, before you even ask."

"But why...what...shouldn't Dumbledore know about that?" Harry asked, stumped. "I mean, he must know who your parents are, and if they were death eaters in the first war he must knew what they're like!"

"Please, Harry." Flora shook her head. "You, of all people, know how scornful everyone is of slytherin. Some of them deserve it – deserve it and worse – but not all of them. Dumbledore doesn't give a damn about anyone other then his precious Gryffindors, who he shall shield from any harm no matter how much they might deserve it."

"I'm a Gryffindor," Harry muttered, "And yet I'm getting no protection."

"But you're Harry Potter." Flora responded flatly. "You're the boy-who-lived. Son of one of his favoured students who died in the war. An instrument to end the second one. You require special handling."

"I. Don't. Want. It."

"We can see that now," Flora said, eyeing him up and down. Her dark, cold eyes were filled with a sort of understanding Harry hadn't seen before. "And I'm guessing you did to."

"I can't believe I came into this place so blind." Harry said bitterly. "I should have known."

"...why should you have known?" Hestia's eyes grew really wide. "Are you're aunt and uncle – oh god, they're not like our parents. They can't be."

Harry looked at her again. There was so much empathy in her voice it made his heart clench and skip, and it was all so raw – genuine – that he temporarily wasn't sure what to say.

Eventually, though, he felt as if he could speak. These two strange girls watched with shock, not judgement, when he said, "They didn't give me scars like those," He held his hand near Hestia's face, indicating the still-remaining scars. Now he knew why they had remained. "But yeah. They were. They still are."

Hestia looked like she wanted to cry at this. Flora's eyes narrowed into slits. "I'm sure he'll be taken care of," She growled as though quoting someone. "Taken care of, indeed."

Harry punched the wall. He didn't have to ask to know who had said that. "None of this was my fault!" He raged. "I'm tired of always being at fault when I'm retaliating for being treated like shit! I hate always being the victim."

Suddenly, he found himself being hugged – Hestia, full of concern and compassion, had gotten up and gently hugged him. "I'm sorry, Harry. I'm really sorry," She whispered. Harry stood frozen in her arms for a long minute. Then he, surprising himself, returned the hug and stayed there.

"I'm sorry too."

"That's kind of you," Flora's voice broke the couple up. They both stood up, as she had done so a moment before, looking at each other in embarrassment. "But unfortunately, that doesn't change our current circumstances. Potter – Harry – how are you planning to survive the tournament?"

"I don't know," Harry responded sourly.

Flora looked calculatingly at him. "I've been wondering what sort of person you were for a long time. And now...you surprised me. I – we – happen to know a lot of magic that most schools don't teach, besides Drumstrang. Find some place for us to meet discreetly and we'll try and help you through this."

Harry looked at her in surprise. "Is there anything you particularly want in return?" He asked. "Protection?"

"That would be nice," Flora admitted, though the tone of her voice never changed. "But what I really want is for a way to end this."

Harry didn't have to ask to know what this was. Flora and Hestia suffered, like him, thanks to the war and the bigotry of the school.

"Flora's making this sound like some sort of contract," Hestia complained, frowning at her sister. "I'd like to help you, Harry...because you helped me. That's all."

Harry cracked a smile at this. "Want to help me? How would one go about defeating a fully-grown, pissed off mother dragon long enough to get a fake egg?"

Several Days Later

Once Flora had finished cursing when he told her what the first task actually was, she had gone straight to work. Harry, in his search for some place where he could meet the Slytherin twins in secret, ended up stumbling across the Room of Requirement. This quickly became their training place.

The magic Flora had discussed was Dark magic. Hestia had been worried about how he'd take it, and when he asked about it he was treated to a lecture about intention.

The two girls were very knowledgeable on the subject...due to having been subjects themselves. Dark Magic was ruled by intention, which is why a lot of the spells in its inventory caused pain. However, there were entire sections of wizards throughout history who used Dark Magic without being Voldemort, by challenging their emotions to different ends.

Anger became the power to protect, sadness hid you from anything seeking you out, happiness overwhelmed mental defences, and so on.

It was anger (unsurprisingly) that Flora leaned on the most. By the twins' third year, almost everyone in Slytherin was terrified of her, Malfoy included. She was teaching Harry some incantations to use against the dragon, since anything else would be almost inefficient to the point of suicide due to how powerful the creatures were.

A few weeks ago, Harry would have been frightened by all the fury he had found inside himself during his lessons. He obliterated some dummies made up to look like Vernon or Petunia, leaving nothing but scorch marks behind. Frankly he was amazed what he was doing wasn't scaring Hestia, who was a good deal more gentle then her sister.

Of course, Flora was partially the bitter, aggressive girl that she was in order to protect her twin from as much of the world's brutality as she could. Hestia ended up being the more supportive of the two when Flora found herself too emotionally wrung out to face the day.

The more Harry learned about the girls, the more the spark of kinship he felt towards them grew. They didn't treat him with pity or contempt or anything he had gotten used to. He wasn't someone special to them; he was an equal. Maybe even, at some point in time, a friend.

As such, Harry went into the battle against his dragon (naturally, he got the most dangerous of the lot) feeling much more confident then he had before.

Some small part of him was worried about using Dark Magic in front of Dumbledore and the Gryffindors, but by this point he was too tired of wasting his hopes on them to even care how they might react.

He pointed his wand at the furious creature and shouted the ancient words.

Fourteen years of rage and unhappiness burst out of his wand in a blast of blazing light so powerful it knocked everyone in the stands over. The dragon screamed in pain and was thrown backwards, spikes thrust through its scales. When the light faded, it was incapacitated.

Harry dropped his wand arm, feeling utterly exhausted. He stumbled over to his egg, picked it up, and walked off the stage not waiting for Ludo Bagman to regain his equilibrium to hand out the points. He could feel the shock radiating from the stands.

When he reached the tent, Hestia and Flora were waiting for him. "That was great, Harry!" Hestia beamed. "You were incredible!"

"I don't feel incredible," Harry said, collapsing down on the bed. "I feel like death warmed over."

"That kind of spell is going to be exhausting," Flora said. She sounded impressed and a little scared. "It's amazing using so much magic didn't cause you to outright faint or even die. That was a truly frightening display, Harry."

"It was?" Harry said, surprised.

Flora nodded. Hestia looked like she was about to say something, but she suddenly started, grabbed her sister's arm and pulled her back into the darkness away from the tent. Harry was confused for a moment before the two people he wanted to see the least burst into the tent.

Hermione and Ron stared at him for a long moment, before speaking at the same time.

Ron said, "I guess you didn't put your name in the goblet after all," looking apprehensive and red at the ears.

Hermione, on the other hand, blurted out, "You used dark magic, Harry! You, of all people!"

"Gee, thank you Hermione. I'm touched by how glad you are that I survived being attacked by a dragon in one piece." Harry said coldly. "It's great that the girl I considered one of my closest friends is more concerned over the fact that I used strange magic she doesn't understand at all due to the biased books she loves so much then the fact I could have died."

Turning his attention to Ron, he added, "And I'm grateful that my other closest friend took a whole month of bullying and a near death experience to realize that I'm not a cheat and I had been forced into the tournament. A close friend would have believed me, even after some doubts, but you weren't that friend."

Ron gaped. "You-you don't mean that. We're sorry, Harry."

"Sure you are," Harry said, anger bubbling inside him again. "You're sorry that you said terrible things about me and were part of the House bullying me. You're sorry that you betrayed the fragile trust I had in you, and I don't trust easily. You're sorry that you left me out to hang in one of the most difficult months of my life. Well...I'm sorry, but sorry isn't enough. Not now."

"Harry, what choice did we have?" Hermione butted in, looking imploringly at him. "I thought you were turning dark-"

Harry rounded on her, jumping to his feet and glaring, "And what told you that, miss know-it-all Granger? The three years I've spent by your side as your friend, risking my life to prevent injustices and deaths from befalling other people in this school? Those precious books of yours that you take as a guide to life itself, when they're nothing but words that cannot possibly inform you of how all people think and feel?"

"How dare you Harry Potter. Apologize to me, that isn't fair." Hermione stormed.

"Oh, so I have to apologize but you owe me now apologies for throwing me away over some hearsay. Why did I ever become friends with you? Well, I won't be making that mistake again."

Harry didn't notice he had an audience, he was so engulfed in the terminal of his emotions. Professor McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore were standing outside the tent, both having come to interrogate him over the type of magic he had used, while the Carrow twins were hiding out behind the tent listening to him rant.

None interrupted; McGonagall was stunned, Dumbledore was troubled, and the Carrows were happy. Happy that Harry was standing up for himself.

Growling, "You're a hypocrite, and a traitor, and I am through with both of you," Harry turned on his heel and stormed out of the tent, leaving the shell shocked Gryffindors behind.

End Chapter

Here's to getting furious over not being believed. again. I mean, after second year surely the school would have known better, but nope! It's always Harry's fault first. Man, those people are almost as annoying as the civilians in the Marvel Universe.

Read and Review please!