Harry Potter And The Other World

Chapter 1: Monomania

The man breathed in copper.

The sour taste of it in his mouth brought a grin to his lips, and he looked at the older man before him once again. Craving ate at him as lifeblood dripped from the open crevices of the man's skin. It followed the contours of his muscles before vanishing within the black of his robes.

"Stunning" The word slipped off his tongue, but neither man moved. "Say," his voice was like velvet. "Do you like pain? How it will course through your veins. Electrify your very being." Another sniff and the man was chuckling. "No, I suppose you don't." He said with a pointed look at his captive's hands which ribbed the edges of his robe.

"I'll tell you what," he started again. "I'll let you choose. How would you like to die?" The captive shivered. The only sounds that left his mouth were whimpers. "Answer me," the command was clear in his voice.

"Bloody monster!" The older man, his hands trembling underneath his robe. "You get off on this, don't you? Fucking sick."

Laughter bubbled up from the other man's throat, tongue darting out as it finished to lick his lips. "I must admit, your pain is rather enticing. What do you think, Fafnir? Is it time to eat him up yet? I'm getting peckish."

"What have I told you about not savoring something?"

"I've gotten all the taste I can get out of someone so spineless."

A chuckle from the dark corner of the room before, "As true as that way be, he has yet to call you master. Educate him on your rightful title."

"I see," the young man's lips spread back into a grin. "You make a valid point."

His eyes tracked the movement of his captive once again, the green eyes glowing bright in the dark like those of a leopard. His hand darted into the air, plucking a knife out of it before looking down again. Wandless magic had become so simple or more boring at this point. He glided down the steps, knife glinting.

"Let's have some more fun Mr. Phoenix."

"Harry!"

"Hermione, nothing has changed in the last twenty minutes." Harry Potter rubbed his face for what seemed like the hundredth time before looking at her. "I am fine."

Hermione towered over him. She stood the other side of his desk behind a mountain of paperwork. Her glare sharpened. "Harry James Potter, you killed someone. We've," her lips trembled even as she straightened her shoulders. "We've lost people. Circe, Harry it's okay to grieve."

"I don't have time to sit and grieve right now. Dumbledore left me instructions and I have to finish them by the end of the week." Harry checked his list before looking at his watch. "I have seven more people to write letters to before morning."

Her eyes flickered from the paper to him, then she sighed. The robes she wore looked burnt in places and when she sat down dust and ash fell onto the floor by her feet. "Let me see that." She held out her hand, but Harry only pulled it farther from her reach.

"I killed someone and my best friend is dead, but Hermione you killed three people and lost a lover."

"Four." Her voice was quiet, her eyes stuck to Dumbledore's desk.

"Four?"

"Four people."

He blinked for a moment before his eyes sunk down to the table too. "It was the only way."

Hermione reached out with her hand and settled it down on his own. A painful smile slid onto her lips as she spoke. "You keep telling me that and perhaps I'll believe you one day." She licked her lips which were still chapped and bleeding in places. "Please let me help, Harry. I need," a pause. "I need something to take my mind off... off him."