Commands & Choices
Harry’s legs were shaking and he thought he might actually faint.
Miss Thornhill, or Laurel Gates, apparently, had dragged Wednesday to the head of the tomb and made Harry stand at the foot of the tomb. She hadn’t let go of Wednesday yet, and Harry was beginning to worry that he was going to blackout before he got a chance to kill her.
Tyler still stood in the doorway as Hyde, his heavy and loud breathing assaulting Harry’s ears as a reminder that it wasn’t Harry’s Tyler or Harry’s Hyde standing there, it was Miss Thornhill’s.
The room spun around Harry when he considered the position they were in. Wednesday was being held captive by Miss Thornhill, Tyler was being held captive by Miss Thornhill, and Harry couldn’t think of a way to help anyone.
Harry couldn’t help them.
Harry was never a hero, but he had been a monster and a freak his whole life.
Harry could kill Miss Thornhill if she’d let go of Wednesday, but she hadn’t done that yet either.
“Stand back up,” Miss Thornhill snapped harshly at Harry when his legs finally wobbled and collapsed beneath him. “STAND UP OR I WILL KILL HER!”
“I’m certain that screaming at him is absolutely going to help,” Wednesday scowled. “Harry, Harry, it would be an incredibly poor time for you to have a panic attack, do you understand?” Her voice lowered and she sounded soft, Harry tried to focus on the sound of it rather than the blood soaked floor he was splayed on.
“Focus, Harry, focus,” Wednesday said. “You are strong, you are powerful, you will get up and we will both leave this crypt alive. Do you understand me?”
Harry pushed his glasses up and pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes as hard as he could. The black spots popping in and out of his vision shifted to a burst of stars and Harry pressed harder until it was all colored stars instead of any black spots at all.
“I understand,” Harry whispered. It didn’t matter if he sounded weak or not, Miss Thornhill wasn’t another Guard Hamilton who might let her guard down if Harry played victim.
She had a goal and Harry didn’t think anything was going to stand between her and that goal.
Harry grabbed the ledge of Crackstone’s tomb and pulled himself back to his feet. He had to keep ahold of the tomb though or else he was going to fall right back down. He did make direct eye contact with Wednesday though and he hoped she could see in his eyes that Harry wasn’t going to let her die.
“Let’s get this party started,” Miss Thornhill declared. She kept her arm locked around Wednesday’s neck and then pointed the gun at Harry.
“Tyler, time to help me,” Miss Thornhill said, her cold eyes looking past Harry toward Hyde.
“Tyler?!” Wednesday hissed, her eyes bulging. Harry didn’t know she could get any more pale, but she could. He looked away when he felt her eyes turning toward him, and it was all the confirmation she seemed to need.
“You knew?!” Wednesday demanded. “Harry, you knew your boyfriend was a monster?”
Harry said nothing. He looked down at the tomb that he was clutching with fingers that were going numb and he tried to stay calm.
He could explain to Wednesday when they left. He could tell her that he wanted to save Tyler. They would all leave and Miss Thornhill would be dead and Harry, his cousin, and his boyfriend would all be alive and free and everything would be fine.
Everything would be fine.
Everything would be fine.
Everything would be fine.
“Oh, what a betrayal,” Miss Thornhill cooed sarcastically. “Shut up, girl. Tyler, kill him now; bring Mama his kidney. That is an order.”
Apparently Harry was going to have to decide whose life was more important then and there - his or Tyler’s.
Harry really, truly, hated making decisions.
*****
“I KNEW it was Tyler!” Enid screamed. “I freaking knew it!”
“Would you keep your voice down??” Xavier hissed at her. “Jesus.”
“Both of you shut up,” Sirius snapped, sick of hearing them whisper and argue. He had probably never been so stressed out in his life.
Escaping Azkaban had been less stressful than being Harry’s godfather.
Only Harry would jump in a relationship with a Hyde - something that made Sirius laugh as much as it made him want to cry.
Harry was too much like Sirius.
“Only you would find out he’s a werewolf and become more infatuated,” James laughed, plopping down on the Gryffindor sofa beside Sirius. James pulled Sirius down in a playful headlock, ripping Sirius’ eyes away from where they’d been locked on Remus in the corner reading.
“Get off me, you sweaty git,” Sirius said gruffly, twisting his head to the side and shoving James’ arm off him. He frantically combed his fingers through his hair, making sure it wasn’t too messy, and looked back to see if Remus was watching.
James laughed and twisted his lanky body around until his head was on Sirius’ lap.
“Padfoot and Moony sitting in a tree, S-N-O-G-G-I-N-G,” he sang quietly, taunting Sirius with a silly grin. “No, seriously, mate, what do you see in him?”
Sirius looked at Remus and knew his face was getting soppy and soft. Remus was… fuck.
Remus was beautiful. He was just sitting there in the armchair by the window, a knitted brown blanket wrapped around him like a cocoon protecting him from the world, and his nose buried in a book.
If Sirius had to guess, it was some sort of muggle poetry. And if Sirius was really bloody lucky, Remus would quote it to him later.
Remus looked so soft in the candlelight, he looked so fragile and lovely. In a few days, Remus would change to something dark and dangerous, and Sirius would slip and fall for him a little more.
“What’s not to like about a bloke who could kill me in my sleep?” Sirius sighed wistfully.
It would be better if Harry wasn’t so much like Sirius.
Sirius, Xavier, and Enid made their way through the forest, all of them with their ears and eyes peeled for any hint of Harry, Wednesday, or the Hyde. Sirius didn’t hold grudges, not against people who didn’t kill his best mates, but he was still determined to hit Tyler in his bloody face at least once after they completed their little rescue mission.
It wasn’t about kidnapping Harry, even though Sirius was right pissy about that, Hyde’s under the control of a master had no more choice in their decisions than imperio’d victims had. No, what Sirius was rather furious about was the bloody scars across his chest.
His constellation tattoo over his heart was ruined. It had cost Sirius nearly twice what a good broom did to have that done and charmed just the way he’d wanted it. He would have preferred Tyler took his leg instead.
“Maybe the cave?” Enid suggested when Sirius stalled in the center of a clearing in the forest. Sirius tipped his head up to the sky and felt the familiar twinge in his chest when he saw the full moon directly above them.
It was a blood moon.
Remus would be in excruciating pain that night. He always said the blood moon was named for the way it pulled the blood from the wolves, drawing them out like knives drew blood.
“Sirius? Sir?” Xavier touched Sirius’ shoulder lightly, jolting him from his thoughts. When Sirius turned to look at him, he saw that the boy had a wise look in his young eyes.
“Do you think we should split up?” Xavier suggested quietly. “We can check the cave, the crypt, and that cottage that they went to before.”
“No,” Sirius said, only debating it for a split-second. “We need to stick together. We’ve got no idea what that teacher ordered your little buddy to do.”
“You’re…” Xavier glanced down at the wand Sirius held tightly. “You’re not going to hurt him, right? Tyler’s a good guy, he can’t help what he is.”
“Remus is a good man, he can’t help what he is!”
“I’m not going to hurt him,” Sirius told Xavier gravely. “I’m going to bloody deck him in the jaw, but this is a rescue mission, not an assassination.”
Xavier’s face melted into a look of relief and he nodded. “Thanks, man.”
Sirius clapped him on the shoulder and tried to decide which of the three places they should check out first.
“Uh, guys?”
Sirius and Xavier both turned to Enid and a tremor of unease went through him when he saw the twitching muscles in the girl’s arms and the way her pupils were dilating and constricting rapidly.
“Enid… Enid you take a potion right?” Sirius asked the girl that was apparently a werewolf.
Enid swallowed and dropped to the ground on all fours, crying out in pain.
“What potion?” she whimpered.
Oh bloody hell.
*****
The gun to her head was not filling Wednesday with as much fury as the fact that Harry knew the Hyde was Tyler.
As soon as Wednesday found a way to escape the blasted situation they were in, she would be having a long and excruciating conversation with her cousin about keeping secrets.
“Tyler, kill him now; bring Mama his kidney. That is an order,” Thornhill snapped at the monstrous Hyde lurking in the doorway.
Wednesday felt Thornhill’s words like a knife to her own kidney. She kicked out backward, hoping she could knock the woman off her and give Harry the opening he needed, and nailed Thornhill in the shin with her boot.
It worked, Thornhill went backwards, but she kept her arm locked around Wednesday’s neck and drug her with her.
“You abominable girl.” Thornhill slammed the butt of the gun against Wednesday’s head, sending her mind spinning in a temporary inferno of darkness. “Tyler! Now! Kill that boy!”
“RUN, HARRY!” Wednesday yelled, scrambling to try and escape Thornhill’s grasp. She couldn’t see her cousin, she couldn’t see the Hyde. She bit down on Thornhill’s arm until she tasted blood. “RUN!”
Thornhill tightened her arm on Wednesday’s neck and they rolled down the stairs of the platform that held the tomb and the organs and candles for the ritual.
A snarl tore through the crypt, bouncing around the room in a chilling way, and Wednesday renewed her effort to escape. Harry couldn’t fight off the Hyde without killing him and Lucifer himself knew that Harry would hesitate before he killed the little barista he was so enamored with.
And that hesitation would get Harry killed.
Wednesday opened her mouth to scream at her idiot cousin again but Thornhill tightened her arm and all Wednesday could do was choke out a strangled sound.
“That is enough,” Thornhill spat. She slapped the gun against Wednesday’s head again, cracking her skin and drawing blood. Wednesday could feel her scrambling to get to her feet without letting go of Wednesday. Wednesday laced her still bound fingers together into a fist and slammed it backwards in Thornhill’s stomach.
“I’m going to rip your heart out and feed it to you,” Wednesday hissed. “And then I’m going to—”
The loudest scream yet, masked only by the roar of the Hyde, filled the room before it was cut off with a gurgling sound.
Wednesday closed her eyes in horror.
“I’m going to kill you,” she swore hoarsely, her voice breaking along with her heart. “I’m going to end your life.”
*****
“What do we do?” Xavier whispered to Sirius. The man had his elbow in an iron grip and was backing away quickly while Enid began transforming.
As far as Xavier knew, the wolf gene had skipped Enid. That’s what everyone said. She was a normie whose only supernatural power was excessive gossip and sharp nails.
“We run and tomorrow we write a strongly worded letter to your principal about wolfsbane,” Sirius scowled. “Come on, quick.”
Since the werewolves were usually locked in the lycanthropy rooms - glorified outdoor pens with gates made of solid silver, keeping the others safe - Xavier didn’t question Sirius when he began pulling him away from Enid.
“This night just keeps getting worse and worse,” Sirius muttered while they ran. “Mate, hold up, here…”
Sirius reached in a pouch he wore around his neck, one that was apparently much bigger than it seemed, and pulled a shimmering purple bedsheet from it.
“It’s Harry’s, he won’t mind sharing with you,” Sirius said. He tossed the sheet over Xavier and nodded. “Brilliant, I can’t see you now, just follow me.”
Xavier stuck his arm out to look at it while he continued running to follow Sirius and saw that his arm was completely gone.
“I’m invisible,” Xavier gasped. He tripped a little over a root sticking out of the ground and worked to stay on his feet. “Holy shit. I’m invisible.”
“Harry was kidnapped by his boyfriend, your buddy Wednesday was kidnapped by her crazy teacher, Enid is a bloody werewolf having her first transformation…” Sirius laughed bitterly. “Mate, you being invisible is the least shocking thing about this night.”
In hindsight, Sirius wasn’t wrong.
*****
Harry kept his eyes shut tightly when Tyler moved behind him and tore Lucas apart with his claws.
He could have stopped him. He could have hit Tyler with the green murder spell. He could have saved Lucas’ life.
He chose Tyler.
He chose Tyler.
He chose Tyler.
He chose Tyler. He chose Tyler. He chose Tyler.
Harry thought he was going to be sick when the Hyde brushed his arm and put a blood coated organ in the only empty jar on the platform.
Miss Thornhill and Wednesday had been grappling on the floor, leaving Harry with no opening to kill Miss Thornhill with, and they stopped around the same time that Lucas screamed his last scream.
“The ritual is ready,” Miss Thornhill said when she all but lifted Wednesday to her feet by her neck. The woman hadn’t lost the gun at all and once more had it pushed against Wednesday’s temple.
Harry made a quiet whimper when he saw Wednesday had blood trickled down the side of her head while tears dropped down her face.
“Wednesday,” Harry sniffled quietly. “Wednesday, are you okay?”
Wednesday’s eyes snapped open and locked on Harry’s and Harry saw the relief in her dark eyes.
“Oh, good,” Wednesday sighed. “It was just Lucas.”
Harry looked over his shoulder and saw Lucas’ destroyed body behind him, his blood and organs spilling out across the concrete floor, and finally lost his fight against vomiting. Harry kept himself held up by his grip on the tomb and spewed the contents of his stomach all across the floor, mostly losing bile and what was either blood or tomato soup from dinner.
That boy was dead because Harry chose Tyler.
And, worst of all, Harry didn’t regret his decision at all.
“The time is now,” Miss Thornhill said, completely ignoring Harry’s shaking sickness. She shoved Wednesday toward a stand that hadn’t been there during Wednesday’s party and tapped the gun against her head harshly. “You’re going to read the ritual and Harry is going to willingly accept the spirit of Joseph Crackstone in his body for the great cleanse that has been destined for years!”
“No Harry is not,” Wednesday snarled. She looked down at the book on the stand and pushed back against Miss Thornhill. “You are not sticking some dead bigots soul inside of him.”
“I am if he wants you to have any chance of living,” Thornhill said cruelly.
Harry looked around for Tyler, wishing he could see Tyler’s eyes instead of the red eyes of the Hyde, and he thought maybe there was a flicker of recognition in them.
“Ty…” Harry whispered. He stretched an arm out to him and his heart ached as much as his stomach did. Harry was reaching across the puddle of Lucas’ blood - across the puddle of blood from the boy Tyler killed - to hopefully reach the boy he loved.
“Ty, please…” Harry begged, staring in the eyes of Hyde. He didn’t want to have someone’s soul inside him, not again, and he couldn’t let Miss Thornhill kill Wednesday.
Hyde snarled quietly and Miss Thornhill cackled rudely.
“He isn’t your Tyler right now,” she said mockingly. “He’s my Hyde.”
Harry turned back to face her slowly and hoped his eyes were as filled with hate as he wanted them to be.
“I’m going to torture you before I kill you,” Harry swore, quiet and dangerous. His power sparked and flared in his blood, begging to be let out to play. “When I’m done, you’re going to beg for death and maybe I won’t fucking give it to you. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!” Harry screamed. “MAYBE I WON’T EVEN LET YOU DIE!”
Harry’s chest was heaving and he had never been so angry before. Not with his relatives, not with Piers, not even when Guard Hamilton put a knife to Harry’s throat and cut him for his blood.
Even if Harry had been shoved in his cupboard again and locked up for a month, he would never hate anyone as much as he hated Miss Thornhill. She thought she had Harry, Tyler, and Wednesday all trapped as pawns in her game, and Harry would prove her wrong.
Nobody was going to take Harry’s freedom away, or the freedom of the people he loved.
Wednesday had never looked so proud of Harry before and Miss Thornhill looked appropriately scared before she twisted her lips in a sneer.
“You take the spirit, or she dies,” Miss Thornhill told Harry bluntly, her voice laced with a mild betrayal of her fear. “Which will it be?”
Harry grit his teeth and looked at Wednesday. What choice did he have? Until Miss Thornhill released her - or if Tyler would shift back - Harry had less choices than he ever had about anything before.
Wednesday shook her head subtly, telling him no, but she was wrong about it like she had been wrong about Xavier.
Harry might not know whose life he valued more between himself and Tyler, but he did know whose life he chose between himself and Wednesday.
Without Wednesday, Harry would have nothing and be no one. Wednesday was the most important person in Harry’s life and he would never give her up.
“I’ll do it,” Harry said, never looking away from Wednesday.
*****
Wednesday read the ritual spell aloud, Harry and the literal gun to head head having left her little choice.
“Ar šo burvestību es lūdzu jūs piecelties,” Wednesday read in perfect pronunciation. She didn’t have the mental capacity to translate before she read it, she could only focus on saying the words and wondering how to save Harry. “Ar šo burvestību es lūdzu jūs piecelties. Ar šo burvestību es piedāvāju jums mazāk spēcīgo orgānus.”
The tomb shook and the air filled with hot, swirling steam. The organs in the jars rose of their own volition and hovered above the tomb before dropping down on Crackstone’s tomb and were absorbed through the cement.
“Keep going,” Miss Thornhill whispered eagerly. “Go.”
“Ar šo burvestību es piedāvāju jums ķermeni, kurā dzīvot,” Wednesday read, looking through the steam clogging the air for Harry. The steam circled into a swirl directly above the tomb, the rapid air flow was blowing Wednesday’s hair back, but the book remained open on the stand. Wednesday could barely see Harry through the tornado of magic and steam. What she could see, was Harry standing frozen with his hands on the tomb and his head thrown back as the magic was drawn to him, undoubtedly recognizing Harry as a fellow user.
“KEEP GOING!” Thornhill yelled. “KEEP READING!”
“Ar šo burvestību es piedāvāju tev ienaidnieka asinis, un tu atkal augšāmcelsies!” Wednesday yelled. “Pacelties un iekarot!”
The tornado gained momentum, spinning ferociously and changing from grey to a dark blood red, and it was all Wednesday could do to stay on her feet before it. The tornado shifted toward Harry completely, the mouth of it lining up with Harry’s mouth.
Wednesday was entranced in a morbid way, watching as Harry’s body was overtaken by Crackstone’s soul.
And that was when Thornhill pulled the trigger against Wednesday’s head and Wednesday knew nothing anymore.