Harry turned automatically as he heard the furious voice of Rodolphus and now that he looked, he could see the man hissing at Rowle. Lucius had been standing with the Lestranges when Rowle had gone to proposition Lucius, it seemed and instead of taking Lucius off for a private conversation, he'd just mentioned taking Harry's contract from Rabastan in front of the entire Lestrange family. Harry really didn't like Rowle and he was glad that Lucius hadn't lumbered him with a betrothal to him.
"I'm just saying that someone as young, supple, and gorgeously stunning as Harry deserves better than some spluttering old cripple from Azkaban." Rowle said simply.
"And what does Harry say about this?" Lucius said calmly as if he was considering the proposal.
"He likes me." Thorfinn boasted.
Harry looked from his vantage point behind the back of a very old man who seemed to be mostly deaf and half-asleep on his feet. Rabastan was standing behind and between Rodolphus and Xerxes saying nothing and that angered Harry. He wanted Rabastan to fight for him, to fight for their future, but he was just stood there as if he was considering the proposal himself.
"Say something, Rabastan!" Xerxes burst out furiously.
"If it's what Harry wants." He said quietly.
"It is." Rowle declared. "How could you possibly think that he'd prefer you over me?" He sneered and indicated his own face and body. "I can offer him this. You would likely break your own back trying to lift him and he's such a tiny little wisp of nothing that I could lift him with one arm. He deserves only the best."
Rabastan said nothing and Harry balled his fists up. He'd have to deal with this himself it seemed.
"If Harry agrees to it." Lucius told Rowle, neither accepting nor declining his proposal. "Of course he will, it's a better deal." Rowle said cockily. "I, at least, would be able to pleasure him properly."
Harry smarted at the disrespect and the attack on his dignity and he would have expected Rabastan to immediately jump to his defence, but he didn't. Lucius was just about to remind Rowle that Harry was his son, adopted or not when Harry decided that it was time to take things into his own hands.
"How dare you say such things about me!" He hissed.
"There you are." Rowle smiled at him. "I was just sealing the deal with your adoptive father."
"I heard what you have just said about me." He growled.
"It's alright. Everyone here knows that I'd be able to satisfy you. That cripple wouldn't even be able to pull a moan from your pretty lips. Unless it was one of pain, of course." Harry's hands clenched so tightly that his whole arm shook with the tension. He tried to breathe deeply to calm himself, but his temper was too roused to be calmed.
"How dare you." He bit out from between clenched teeth. "I am not some bed slave given to you merely for your pleasure. I deserve better than that from a betrothal or a marriage. I want someone to talk to, someone to start a family with, to spend my life with…not merely someone who thinks that my only use is in the bedroom!"
"There's no need to get so angry over such a comment. I take pride in the knowledge that I'd be able to pleasure you."
Harry didn't even think as he ripped his wand out of his sleeve and sent Rowle flying halfway across the room to smash into one of the gaudy ice sculptures. It wasn't hollow as he'd initially thought, it was solid ice and Rowle left a blood smear on it as he fell to the floor, unconscious. Harry hadn't even uttered a spell, he hadn't had time to think of one, his magic had just immediately reacted to his rage.
"If that man comes anywhere near me again then he'll lose his head." Harry told Lucius before turning to glare at Rabastan. "Way to stand up and defend me and my dignity, Rabastan. So much for being betrothed." He spat before turning on his heel and striding off.
He went outside to cool off, walking around the wooden decking at the back of the house and several minutes later he found himself sitting on a low stone bannister that boxed in a patio seating area before leading out onto the lawn.
"Way to keep your calm, Harry." He chastised himself as he growled and fisted his hair in frustration.
That wasn't how he wanted people to see him. As some angry thug who attacked people at parties. Damn it, he was supposed to be a lord of two houses, he held two seats on the Wizengamot and he couldn't even control his own anger. It was pathetic.
He was trying to convince people that he was suitable to sit in on the wizarding court and vote on incredibly important laws and in trials despite his age and here he was, attacking another person at the pureblood's winter fucking gala just because he'd lost his temper.
Damn, he knew he shouldn't have come to this stupid party, he had known that it would be a massive mistake and now he'd gone and shown himself up and embarrassed himself and most likely the Malfoy family too, in front of every other pureblood family, including Rabastan and his family, his betrothal family. He felt humiliated and lower than low, he just wanted to hide away, but he knew that if he did that then it would make everything a thousand times worse. It would be better to stay and face up to what he'd done with as much dignity as he could still muster rather than run away and give everyone even more ammunition to fire at him. He was no coward, after all, and he would face up to what he'd done. He wished that it had never happened, but he had lost his temper and he had attacked someone. There was nothing that he could do to change that now.
"I saw what you did, Potter."
Harry startled and looked around, over his shoulder, to a face that was only partially familiar to him. Then, it had been over a year since he'd last seen Marcus Flint. He no longer looked quite so trollish, though he was still tall and massively muscular.
"Flint." He greeted with a nod.
"Why were you attacking Rowle?"
"Because he's a cocky, arrogant son of a bitch and needed to be taken down several pegs! As if I'd allow anyone to get away with saying those sorts of things about me!" He defended himself and his actions hotly. Just because he regretted his rash behaviour didn't mean he had to show it to others. He had done it and the best way to deal with it now was to stand by his actions and act like he had been entitled to act as such. It helped that he didn't really regret attacking Rowle, just that he'd let his temper get away from him enough to do it in front of all of those people.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Do you enjoy reading? Visit my site on Tiendup! There you will find the advanced chapter in PDF format, ready for your convenience.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
https://fictiontopia.tiendup.com/