Whelp

Oh, no. Please. He wanted to scream, but after the man shook him, he couldn't get any air into his lungs, couldn't breathe at all. Father, help!

A bright white light flared around Harry for the briefest of moments, then formed into a ball and darted away, toward the massive stairs and through the door to the dungeons. The man dragging him forward didn't pay any attention to it, though, and hauled him to the steps. Harry's feet and ankles banged on the steps as the man swung him up each one. Harry clawed at his shirt, bunched tight at his throat. Flecks of light sparked in his vision as the rest of the world went dark.

'WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!? RELEASE MY SON AT ONCE!!'

The air crackled like just before a thunderstorm, but he wasn't scared. His father was here now, and he could let go.

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TBC . . . with trouble for Filch, an explanation of Harry magic, and a trip to the Malfoys. Fun, fun, fun!

A/N: New chapter should be up by Wednesday. Thanks to everyone who's been so supportive of this story; I lavish chocolate upon you!

*Chapter 16*: Chapter 16

Whelp -- Chapter 16

By jharad17

Disclaimer: I'm not blond, nor rich. 'Nuff said.

A/N: In honor of the 500th review (Holy Cannolis!), here's a newly minted chapter for your enjoyment. Next one really will be Wednesday. Or Thursday, depending on how fast I write. Thank you all, so much!

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Daddy came for me. That was Harry's first thought upon waking. The second was that his head hurt. He was in a bedroom, not chained in the backyard, and when he opened his eyes, just to peek, he saw he was in his bedroom, the new one at the castle. His glasses were on the nightstand and he stretched out for them and pushed them onto his nose.

That's when he heard the voices. Loud ones. Angry ones. Out in the sitting room, down the hall. Father, and . . . and the Headmaster.

'—want him dismissed, Albus! The way he manhandled the boy . . . almost choked him to death. I won't have him near Harry. I won't have it!'

'Don't you think you've done enough to the man already, Severus? Be reasonable! I know Argus was harsh, but he didn't know who Harry was—'

'In Merlin's name, why not? You knew we would be here today. Didn't you tell him?'

'I informed the entire staff, of course. But I suspect he didn't--'

'Didn't what? Care a whit who the child was or that he had every right to be there? If Nelli hadn't come to me immediately, I don't know what would have happened.'

There was a long pause, and the Headmaster's voice was much quieter when he spoke again. Harry crept to the doorway and listened, like he'd always done back at the Dursely's, from within his cupboard. 'What of the Patronus message?'

'Harry sent it. A cry for help.' Father sounded sad all of a sudden. Harry couldn't remember sending any message, just the bright shock of light and then his father, there, saving him. 'It would have come too late. He had passed out when I reached him, as it was.'

But you saved me, Daddy, Harry wanted to tell him. It wasn't too late.

'I doubt he would have let it go further than that. He's already powerful--'

'Albus . . .' There was a warning note in his father's voice, that Harry could hear loud and clear; it was rarely so low and sharp at the same time. 'You have no idea what those Muggles put him through. It went on quite far enough without his magic kicking in to save him. It's quite possible Filch could have killed him without Harry fighting him at all. You'll notice his spell work has not been geared toward getting him out of a situation, but towards mitigating it instead. The Silencing spell, to keep his suffering to himself? And then sending a message instead of just striking that bastard dead!'

Harry couldn't contain his gasp. He knew they were talking about him, and his accident magic, and he hated that his father sounded so upset about his Silencing, when he'd thought it was okay for him to do it now. But he couldn't kill anyone, even if they were really, really mean! Even the Dark Wizard who killed your parents? a little voice wondered. Harry told the little voice to shut up, even as the door opened wide to reveal his father staring down at him.

'Did you hear enough?' Father asked, his voice still cold and hard as glass.

Making himself stand his ground instead of darting behind the bed to hide, Harry nodded shakily. 'Y-y-yes, sir.'

Father lifted one eyebrow and took hold of Harry's shoulder, propelling him into the sitting room. He was angry. And Harry deserved his anger, he knew, for eavesdropping and for being in the Great Hall. 'Sorry, sir,' he said. 'I'm sorry.'

But his father didn't answer, just kept that one hand on his shoulder, kept moving them inexorably toward the Headmaster. Just like that scowly man had said he was doing. And the Headmaster would hang him in chains! He dragged his feet and tried to push back against his father. 'I'm sorry! Please, sir, I didn't mean to look at the sky! Please, don't put the collar on again!'