Chapter 6
Chapter Warnings: character death, suicide, self-mutilation
"You Can't Hide Forever"
-Rebel Movement Underground Headquarters-
Reilly
Reilly rubbed her forehead in an attempt to rid herself of the oncoming headache she could feel building in the back of her mind.
Sending out a member-wide message was tiring and time consuming. She had to be careful that only members got the request and that there was a significant amount of time between each member going to their vaults so as to not cause suspicion.
It would take weeks, maybe even months before any real information was able to get back to her.
But it would be worth it.
If this "Potter" turned out to be of any real importance to their cause, Reilly didn't mind if it took years for the lead to show itself.
…okay maybe she cared just a little bit…
-Castle Library-
Armand
Armand was gracious for the castle's enormous library. It was one of the few places his entire family could all spend time together and talk.
He smiled at his oldest, Hania, whose stomach was large and rounded with his first grandchild. His son-in-law, Willis Longbottom, sat with his arm around her and was engaged in a discussion about a werewolf pack in Ireland with Kryspina's husband, Ignacio Crouch.
He let his eyes travel around the room before they stopped on his wife and Belva. Abelina was talking quietly to her, most likely about the upcoming wedding.
Thinking of the impending marriage of his fourth oldest and the Emperor had Armand leaning back in the chair he was in and rubbing at his face.
He had a really bad feeling about it.
Armand looked back around the room again and sat back up in his chair when he realized that his son wasn't present. He glanced worriedly around before he pushed it to the back of his mind.
It was still pretty early in the morning; he was probably just asleep still.
-Castle Gardens-
Matlal
Matlal cursed himself inside his head.
He really couldn't stay away from the infuriating man. The disrespectful, flirtatious, handsome son of a bitch that was Hayden the Gardener.
"Are you still mad at me, Amun?" Matlal looked up from the stone path he was following. His eyes narrowed on the taller name at not only his name but also the cigarette that hung out of the other's mouth.
Hayden raised his arms in surrender and let the cigarette fall out of his mouth and onto the ground. He gave a playful smirk at Matlal as he crushed the bud under his foot.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and slouched his posture slightly so that he was on a more even level with Matlal.
"You know, I can't help but notice that you've been coming here more often lately." He tilted his head to the side and took a lumbering step closer to the shorter man, "And while I'd like to believe that it's because you've been wanting to see my handsome face," Matlal crinkled his nose and sneered at the other man, who just grinned again and continued talking, "I feel like it has more to do with your wavering belief in the Emperor. But my face is also quite a pull factor."
Matlal reared back and stumbled a few feet away from Hayden. He gaped at the other man in alarm before he clenched his jaw and glowered.
He turned on his heel and started to stride away back towards the castle, with the clear intent to get Hayden punished.
Hayden sighed and went after the other man. He gripped Matlal's arm and pulled him back around to face him.
"You and I both know that the Emperor is losing his mind. You should know that more than anyone. I'm giving you an opportunity to break free of the chains that are holding you down. You could join the Rebels and help us bring the Emperor to his knees." Matlal struggled to pull his arm away from the taller of the two, but he stopped when Hayden mentioned his freedom from the Dark Lord. Freedom from the madman that he has been forced to put up with for the last few months.
Hayden ceased his speech when Matlal shrunk into himself.
He pulled the other's face to look him in the eye.
"Just give it a chance, okay?" Matlal raised his eyes to search the other's face for a sign of treachery and lower them again when he saw none.
Matlal yanked his arm out of the slackened grasp and trudged away. He stopped when he got to the castle door and turned back around.
He looked Hayden in the eyes and gave a jerky nod before quickly opening the door and rushing inside.
Matlal moaned to himself, his eyes squeezed shut as he attempted to hide his face in his hands.
'I'm so screwed.'
-Rookwood Vault-
Nasir
Nasir Rookwood stared at the family tree and the book in his hands.
The family tree was old; it's births ending in 1980 and the deaths in 1998.
He wasn't sure way it was in his vault, exactly. As the family name stated Black and there was no Rookwood anywhere to be seen on the tree.
But then again, there was tons of stuff that probably shouldn't have found its way into the Rookwood vault. He had an inkling that one of his ancestors was a thief, or at the very least a hoarder with access to valuable trinkets.
Nasir shook the thoughts out of his head. That didn't matter now. What mattered was the names on the paper.
There in black ink was the Potter Family, and at the very bottom, as one of the last births written down, was Harry Potter.
Which means, that one: a Harry Potter existed, and two: his birth coordinated with the beginning of the Dark Order.
It was a good sign, yes, but it was the book that was of any actual value in his search.
The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts.
It was an old history text, dated around the same time as Harry Potter was born and was probably used by school children.
It didn't seem like a very important thing, though if you were seen with it now, you could probably be tried with treason. But around the end of the book was a slip of blank parchment, marking a chapter off.
Bookmarked was a page that could change the whole game. A page that could shatter the empire and bring it took its knees. A page that could bring new hope to the Rebels and a chance of actually winning.
A page titled: The Fall of Lord Voldemort.
-Dark Lord's Chambers-
Voldemort
Voldemort woke to nails biting into his chest.
His red eyes flew open and he grabbed the hands the nails were attached to.
Looking down his bewildered gaze met a pair of green eyes. The eyes were hard with anger and hatred and disgust and-
"Harry?" He breathed out.
His eyes searched the small face. The furious glare. The sneer that twisted his childish face and bared his little teeth.
"I'll fucking kill you!" the boy screeched before throwing himself at the larger, older man.
Voldemort's eyes widened and he caught the struggling, screaming thing and tried to hold the twisting creature away from his body.
The boy's hands where reaching out for his face and every now and then they'd catch and tear the skin away from Voldemort's cheeks and forehead.
Voldemort, coming out of his shocked daze, flipped their position and trapped the boy's hands over his head and used his knees the push the boy's legs together to try and stop them from kicking out at him.
The younger of the two arched his back and twisted his body about before he finally stopped moving and glared up at Voldemort. The boy lay still, waiting for the other man to do something first.
Voldemort seemed to be in shock and was only able to stare down at the boy in wonder before he let out a stunned chuckle which turned into a mad cascade of hysterical laughter that left the man bent over the other's body as he tried to regain his composure.
"I finally found you. I found you. I have you." He gasped between fits of laughter. He repeated it the same way Jerald had repeated his mad repetition of "I shouldn't have."
The boy seemed to just lie there and watch the grown man break down in front of him before a bubble of blood rushed past his lips and Voldemort stopped laughing as he watched the red liquid trickle down the sides of the other's face.
Voldemort grabbed the boy's cheeks and forced his mouth open. He gazed in shock at the tongue that was bitten in half and the blood that was quickly filling the other's mouth and flowing down his throat. The boy's back arched again, but this time it was due to the blood filling his lungs and the tongue that was partially blocking his airway.
"What are you doing?! Stop! Stop this!" Voldemort shouted, he let go of the other's face and stuck a finger down the child's throat. He removed his hand when teeth closed around his appendage. He picked the boy up an set him in his lap before forcing the child's jaw open again and leaning the small body forward to try and dislodge the muscle.
He let go of the boy and reached for his wand when nothing happened, but by the time he turned back to the child, he had already stopped breathing.
