Title: Broken
Author: Batsutousai
Beta: Shara Lunison
Rating: T
Pairings: HPLV, others
Warnings: Dumbledore bashing
Summary: Dumbledore knew before Harry Potter came to Hogwarts what he needed the boy to do, and he knew exactly how to make him do it. A twist on the normal manipulative!Dumbledore story.
Disclaim Her: This chapter would have been out for Yule, but our kitten had a high fever and then my family showed up for the holiday, so finishing the chapter got put on hold until everything settled. The kitten is on the mend and, last I heard, my family was stuck in Dallas, waiting for their plane to leave. XD
-~/\~-
Chapter Seven - The Dark
-~\/~-
The first week wasn't easy for anyone. The students had to become used to having Death Eaters in the castle, which was especially hard for the non-Slytherins, but even the Slytherins found trouble when they tried to see if their people being in control of the school meant they were in charge. Slytherin detentions were high that first week, while the younger students often found themselves in the infirmary. Harry and his friends had stopped a number of attacks from getting out of hand, but even they could only do so much.
In between the attacks, Harry was finding that coming back to a school where Order members worked may not have been his best choice, even if Voldemort was in control. Every time he had a class with McGonagall or Slughorn, he found pleading looks, or disapproving ones. Sometimes, he would get an essay back with 'DO SOMETHING!' written on it next to the grade.
By the end of September, the attacks on the younger students had ceased, but Harry found himself preferring Dark Arts and Magical Creatures, as both were taught by Death Eaters who didn't bother him about the war.
The final straw fell on Hallowe'en, and Harry felt everything break. Ron had caught him without Neville, Ginny or Luna in the hallway outside McGonagall's office and demanded, "Are you planning to become just like him still, Harry? Are you enjoying watching him destroy the Wizarding World? I bet you are, you freak."
Harry looked towards McGonagall's door and found her there, nodding in agreement with Ron's statement. He felt sick, realising that even his own professors thought he was a monster now. No matter what his parents may have thought, they weren't here.
He turned and ran from the jeering crowd around Ron. He ran for the entrance hall and stopped there, hoping to see a friendly face. But only Slytherins were there, and they sneered at him, hating him as much as his own friends seemed to.
Harry ran past them, out onto the lawn and for the gate of the school. If he couldn't find a friend inside Hogwarts, perhaps it was time to look elsewhere.
-0-0-0-
Harry barely managed two days before the Death Eaters found him. Considering Fawkes was with them, Harry had an idea he knew how they'd found him, too.
They took him back to Voldemort's base, where the man and Harry enjoyed tea in the real world together for the first time. After a terse exchange of names, they sat in silence with their tea and their own thoughts.
Harry broke first, and asked, "Why am I here?"
Voldemort considered him for a long moment before saying, "You left Hogwarts. No one knew why, and I couldn't reach you." He narrowed his eyes at the last.
Harry shrugged; he hadn't been trying to keep Voldemort out of his mind, but he hadn't necessarily wanted to talk to anyone else, either. "I was tired of the expectations."
Voldemort shook his head. "What expectations, Potter? My only hope was that you'd help Severus keep the students in line and that you'd keep your grades up, both of which you were managing quite well."
Harry rolled his eyes. The Dark Lord would be rather averse to having his human horcrux fail school, wouldn't he? Honestly. Dark Lords.
"Potter."
Harry sighed. "Remember how I said I couldn't sit in on the Order meetings?" Voldemort nodded. "Well, a number of the staff are members of the Order. And far too many of the students are with them."
Voldemort hissed some choice words, making Harry's lips twitch in amusement. "I told Severus to make sure those fools wouldn't constantly bother you," he finally said.
Harry blinked, surprised, then shrugged. "I doubt he knows, unless he stands over them when they're handing our papers back. They write little notes on mine." He grimaced. "And when students, like Ron, corner me in the hallways and demand to know why I won't fight, they simply stand there and look just as desperate to hear my answer as the students do."
Voldemort growled. "The Weasley boy again. I should have known."
Harry shrugged again. "I understand where he's coming from, you know. After Dumbledore died, I was kind of disgusted with myself."
"You're not disgusted now," Voldemort replied, and it almost sounded like a question.
Harry shook his head. "I made my choice, and it's not one I can go back on. You saw to that." He shot the Dark Lord a bitter smile. "I came to terms with it, because that's all I could do. Ron still has choices; he doesn't seem to understand that I don't."
Voldemort sneered. "Children."
"You fault them, then? For being what they are?" Harry asked.
Voldemort shook his head, refusing to answer that, and asked, "Will you return to Hogwarts?"
Harry sighed. "Do I have a choice? I wanted to complete my education."
Voldemort eyed him for a long moment before saying, "You can stay here. My library is comparable to Hogwarts', and you can always ask for clarification on anything you don't understand."
Harry considered the offer. "Is Bellatrix here?"
Voldemort's reply smile made Harry's skin crawl. "She's still serving her punishment."
Harry nodded. "I'll stay here, then."
Voldemort inclined his head. "I'll send someone for your things. For now, I believe Wormtail can show you to your quarters, and the library." He waved his wand at the door to the office they'd shared tea in and the rat stumbled in. "Show Harry to the Gold Suite and, if he wishes it, the library."
"Y-yes, M-master."
Harry stood and nodded to Voldemort, then followed his parents' traitor from the room.
-0-0-0-
Since Harry had joined the base on Sunday, he learned from Peter, he would be eating dinner with all of the Death Eaters who frequented the base. Any other day of the week, they ate dinner on their own, either in the kitchens or wherever they had it brought to. After an afternoon in the library, looking over the selection Voldemort had and picking a few out to read in his room, Harry followed his guide to the dining room.
Voldemort motioned Harry towards his own seat, then pointed to the chair on his right. When Harry sat, the Dark Lord asked, "I hope your accommodations are to your liking."
Harry shot the Dark Lord a suspicious look. "Yeah, they're fine. Any reason why you're being creepier than usual?"
Voldemort's mouth twitched and he said, "Simply setting an example, Harry."
"Well, you're creeping me out. Now stop it."
Voldemort chuckled, which silenced the room. He smiled nastily at his Death Eaters and said, "Mr Potter has decided to join us here for some time. You will treat him with respect." There was no reason for the man to say 'or else' because everyone in the room knew what would happen if they disobeyed their Lord. Bellatrix was still serving for her own crime, and she had always been one of Voldemort's favourites.
As the room started filling with voices again and the food appeared, Voldemort turned to Harry and said, "Your things should be here after dinner."
Harry nodded in understanding. "I'll probably retire to my room and read some."
Voldemort hummed. "Are you intending to try and do actual assignments, or just learn on your own?"
Harry considered the question while he ate a bite of mashed potatoes, then said, "I'm not sure. I wouldn't know who to send my assignments to, since the only real teachers I know of are part of the reason I'm here." He smiled crookedly. "I'll probably just study on my own. I'll have my school books, and I think I can figure things out from that."
"Very well. I would like you to meet with me every Sunday for lunch, then. If you have any problems, we can go over them then."
Harry nodded. "Okay."
Voldemort eyed him suspiciously. "You're being agreeable."
Harry grinned. "Creepy, isn't it?"
Voldemort smirked back. "Very."
The two returned to their dinner.
-0-0-0-
Harry's potions skills were mediocre at best, so he did a lot of studying the books he could find on the subject before having Wormtail lead him to the potions lab. (Voldemort had apparently set Wormtail to helping Harry around, and the two had come to the agreement that they would keep peace with each other, but they also wouldn't mention Harry's parents or Sirius.)
Surprisingly, the books he'd looked over helped a lot. Changing how one stirred a potion was a lot easier when you understood why it needed to be done. Harry had muttered grumpily during some downtime in his potion-making, that they should clearly have a beginners class for first years where you were taught the theory. Because the first year potions book didn't really teach you about it, it only told you what to do.
Not having a teacher and having to rely on books ended up doing wonders for Harry's knowledge. He had been beginning to realise since the middle of his sixth year that he'd relied far too much on Hermione for his work, but he hadn't really thought about how much he also relied on his teachers to explain things to him. With only books and Death Eaters to learn from, Harry found himself cross-referencing things more, which meant he actually learned things, rather than just doing them as another showed him.
Voldemort was a wealth of information as well, Harry was finding, but he didn't show Harry how to do things, like his professors had always done. Instead, the Dark Lord talked Harry through sticky spots, teaching the boy how to find the answer himself. It was something, Harry recognised, that Hermione had once tried to do for him and Ron, back in their first year, but since neither of them had been open to learning how to find answers themselves, she'd eventually given up.
Without a Hermione to show him where in the book his answer was, or a McGonagall to show him the wrist movements, Harry learned to find things out for himself. He was also finding that the wand movements they were taught in school were just basic movements, and that some people did better if they added an extra flick, or shortened a sweep. Once Harry had realised that his magic reacted better if his wand was closer to his body, his spells were much more powerful, and he learned the spells much quicker.
Beyond reading up on what his peers were learning at Hogwarts, there wasn't a lot else for Harry to do in the base. There was a clearing that Wormtail told him he could go flying in, but it wasn't quite the same, knowing he wouldn't be playing any quidditch games.
Eventually, after almost a month, Harry asked Peter if there were any Death Eaters who might be willing to play a game of chess or gobstones with him. Peter had looked at him oddly, then offered to play chess with the boy.
Peter, it turned out, was about on Harry's level when it came to playing chess, and the teen found he enjoyed the game a lot more when he had a chance at winning.
One afternoon in mid-December, the Lestrange brothers and Antonin Dolohov happened to walk into the library while Harry was crushing Peter. The brothers cheerfully wandered over and started rooting for Harry, making the teen roll his eyes. Antonin, seeing Peter's dejected look, walked over and whispered a couple moves into his ear. Peter, of course, immediately started winning, and Harry called foul.
Antonin commented, "It's only a foul if you don't cheat back," then nodded to the grinning Lestrange brothers.
Harry looked over at the brothers and considered them for a long moment before asking, "So, can you two actually play?"
"Are you implying our Lord keeps people who can't play a simple game of chess?" one of them demanded mock-seriously.
Harry cocked an eyebrow and jerked his thumb at Peter. "He hasn't killed Wormtail yet. No offence, Peter."
The Animagus simply shrugged with an accepting smile.
"Yeah, but Wormy isn't usually on attacks," the other brother pointed out.
"Yeah, which means he doesn't screw them up like you lot tend to do all the time," Harry shot back.
"He's good," one of the brothers said.
"Impressively," the other agreed.
Antonin snorted. "They can play chess," he said.
Harry shrugged. "Yeah? Alright, then. See if you can help me cheat."
"Aren't you a Gryffindor?" one of the brothers asked.
Harry grinned and tapped his forehead. "Mentally connected to your boss; something had to leak through."
The brothers laughed while Peter shuddered and Antonin rolled his eyes. "We going to play?" the elder Death Eater demanded.
"We're playing," the brothers said, then both leaned over and whispered directions into Harry's ears.
The teen blinked, then smirked. "You're going down," he told his opponent.
Wormtail eyed the brothers on either side of Harry and sighed. "Oh, I know," he told the boy.
-0-0-0-
After the first chess game, Harry found that the Lestrange brothers and Antonin were willing to spend time doing things other than discussing spells with him. While Antonin preferred talking spells, he was also the unofficial gobstones champion in Voldemort's base, and while Harry was, by no means, a serious gobstones player, he did enjoy the occasional game, even if he got his arse whipped in the process. The Lestrange brothers, on the other hand, loved playing Exploding Snap, and Harry cheerfully joined them for the occasional game.
Other Death Eaters were introduced to Harry during games with the brothers or Antonin, but those three and Wormtail remained the people Harry spent the most time with.
Before Harry knew it, Christmas was only a week away, and he realised he didn't have gifts for his friends back at Hogwarts or the Death Eaters he'd been making friends with in Voldemort's base.
He broached the subject to Wormtail one evening while they were playing a game of chess.
Wormtail eyed him curiously for a moment, then shrugged. "I'm sure my Lord would let you take a trip to Diagon Alley, if you truly wished it; it's not like you're a prisoner here, Harry." He smiled faintly and added, "Or you could conjure something. Merlin knows you've gotten far enough in your studies to manage a couple of trinkets."
Harry had spent the rest of the game considering the two options. As a consequence, he lost the game spectacularly, but did decide to go to Voldemort. He figured, if he couldn't find anything in Diagon Alley, then he'd worry about conjuring something.
So Harry bade good bye to Wormtail and made for Voldemort's study.
When he knocked on the door, he was told to, "Wait a moment!" and so leaned against the wall next to the door. Harry rarely visited the Dark Lord's study unless it was Sunday afternoon, but he knew that the man was always busy with meetings during the week – he'd spent enough time at the relatively small base to notice the constant coming and goings, especially the ones that dropped by the study.
After another five minutes or so – during which Harry counted cracks in the far wall and wished he'd thought to grab a book – the door opened and Umbridge stepped out, looking quite smug. She paused when she noticed Harry and narrowed her eyes. "Potter."
Harry smiled nastily at her and clucked his tongue like a centaur, snickering when she paled and jerked away.
"Harry," Voldemort said from behind Umbridge, eyes light with amusement, "please stop torturing my minions."
"I promise not to make a habit of it," Harry replied, still eyeing Umbridge with a faint smile. "Go on then, Umbitch."
"You dare–" Umbridge started, but Harry already had his wand out, hissing, "Oh, please, give me a reason."
Voldemort cleared his throat, startling Umbridge. When the woman and Harry looked over at him, he no longer looked amused. "Dismissed, Dolores."
"Yes, my Lord," the toad-like woman said, then hurried away, shooting Harry one last disgusted look over her shoulder as she went.
Harry put his wand away grumpily and glanced back at Voldemort, who was looking at him like he wasn't sure what to think of the teen. "May I come in?" Harry asked, when Voldemort made no move to invite him in or otherwise.
Voldemort blinked, then nodded and stepped back to let Harry in. As the man closed the door, Harry traded greetings with Nagini, who was curled up in a warm corner, and took a seat after turning the chair red, something he did every time he visited the study.
"What was that about?" the Dark Lord asked, taking his seat behind the large ebony desk, which dominated the room. Behind him there was a wall of bookcases that bowed under the weight of papers and books that the Dark Lord used for reports and the brief moments of respite he had. On the wall with the door, maps of the United Kingdom and parts of the continent were spread out, with various coloured pins marking the movements of Voldemort's troops, as well as any resistance he knew about. On the opposite wall were more bookcases, which framed a window through which one could see the snow-covered grounds outside. Behind Harry was a fireplace, which Voldemort kept lit in the winter to keep the room warm without the need to waste magic on warming charms.
Harry sighed and slouched in the chair. "She and I had... disagreements in my fifth year. Mostly having to do with you being back." He shrugged. "I got a lot of detentions, and she almost cursed me with the Cruciatus Curse at one point."
Voldemort blinked, the only real sign of his surprise. "And the clicking?"
Harry smiled nastily. "She had a run-in with the centaurs in the Forbidden Forest at the end of the year and came out worse for it. We had a lot of fun making clip-clop sounds while she was recuperating."
Voldemort's mouth twitched with a suppressed smile, then he shook his head. "Don't make a practise of it."
Harry shrugged. "Wouldn't want her to become acclimated to it."
Voldemort chuckled at that and leaned back into his seat. "Well, it's only Thursday, so what brings you to my office? Other than tormenting my minions."
"I don't torment Death Eaters, only Ministry goons," Harry replied with a smirk, then sighed. "I was hoping I could get a way to Diagon Alley?"
Voldemort blinked again, looking curious. "Might I inquire as to why?"
Harry coloured and slouched down in his chair some more. "Christmas is next week, and I want to get gifts for my friends at school and some of the Death Eaters I've made... oh, friends, I guess, with."
Voldemort hummed thoughtfully, then nodded. "I see no problems with it, though I would prefer that you go with someone."
Harry grimaced. The Prophet had gleefully announced his change in residence shortly after he'd settled in at Voldemort's base, and occasional stories had popped up discussing how it was his fault Voldemort was taking over Britain without anyone to stop him. A lot of people were unhappy with Harry Potter, and with the students of Hogwarts on holiday, that number would be doubled, especially in Diagon. Harry could certainly see the reasoning behind taking someone with him, but the only people he would be comfortable with were the ones he was getting presents for.
Harry explained the problem to the Dark Lord and the man shook his head hopelessly, then stood. "Gryffindors," Harry heard him mutter, then, louder, "I will go with you."
Harry blinked in surprise. "I didn't mean to pull you aw–"
"Potter," Voldemort said with amusement, "Let's go."
Harry shook his head and stood, then followed the man from his study and downstairs to the room set up to apparate in and out of. Before they apparated out, Voldemort cast a couple of spells to make himself appear like he had the last time Harry had seen him in Diagon Alley and to lighten Harry's hair and eyes. When he felt Harry looked sufficiently different to fool anyone who wasn't familiar with him, they apparated to the Leaky Cauldron together.
-0-0-0-
Shopping with Lord Voldemort was... different from shopping with anyone else. For one, he seemed to expect that everyone would treat him like he expected his Death Eaters to treat him, in spite of him not really looking like the Voldemort they all ran in terror from. (Much to Harry's surprise, Voldemort got the respect he demanded, though that might have had something to do with his red eyes.) For another, the Dark Lord didn't believe in frivolous gifts, especially since Harry could afford better things. When Harry had asked why he should waste his money, Voldemort replied, "If you're not going to waste it on those gifts you insist on buying, at least get yourself some new clothing. It's embarrassing walking around with an apparent pauper."
So, if only to shut Voldemort up, he'd let the man take him to Madam Malkin's to get a few new robes and some underclothing. Before Voldemort would let Harry leave the store, the boy had to change into one of his new robes and burn his old clothing, much to Malkin's amusement. Harry wasn't sure how he felt about the minor embarrassment, but decided it wasn't worth throwing a fit over.
With Voldemort's help, Harry managed to get something for the four Death Eaters he spent his free time with. He was rather impressed that Voldemort knew as much about the men's hobbies as he did. When he mentioned it, Voldemort just sneered and said, "Always know what your people do during their downtime. It boosts morale and tells you when there's something wrong."
Harry nodded his understanding. "I agree, I just didn't take you to be the sort of Dark Lord who cared." He grinned at Voldemort to show he was teasing and the man huffed and crossed his arms over his chest in a very un-Dark Lord-ish manner. Wisely, Harry chose not to comment on it.
Harry was just finishing shopping for Luna, Neville and Ginny and considering whether he should bother getting anything for his two best friends – after leaving the school, neither of them had responded to any owls he'd sent, unlike his other three friends – when there was a small explosion down the street and people started shouting. Harry, being a Gryffindor – and cooped up for too long – immediately hurried off to see what was happening, leaving Voldemort to mutter angrily about teenagers and follow the boy.
The explosion had come from the twins' shop, unsurprisingly. However, the reason was surprising, as the shop had six aurors in front of it, all with their wands pointed at two angry-looking Weasleys. The twins were standing in front of a few young Hogwarts students, one of which had a nasty gash on his arm, which was being tended to by a girl who seemed to have a background in muggle medicine, if her practised ease with a bandage was any sign.
"Move aside, boys," one of the aurors ordered. "These monsters need to be taken in and dealt with."
"Muggleborns," Fred snapped, "are not monsters."
Harry jerked in surprise at the conditions behind the conflict and made to run forward when a hand grabbed his arm tightly. He looked back into red eyes and snapped, "Why is the Ministry hunting down muggleborns?"
Voldemort sneered at him. "Because they're polluting our world."
"They're only 'polluting' our world because the purebloods keep them from getting jobs, which forces them to return to the muggle world!" Harry hissed angrily.
"They weaken the bloodlines with muggle blood," Voldemort replied.
Harry scowled at the man. "Yeah? Then how do you explain you and me? Your mother was practically a squib, Tom!"
"That has nothing–"
"It has everything to do with this!" Harry replied, jerking his arm from the man's grip and hurrying past the gathered crowd to help support the Weasley twins in holding off the aurors. As soon as he added his shield against the barrage of spells from the wizarding world's finest, the twins breathed sighs of relief and looked at him to thank him.
"Hey, than–" George's words froze as he recognised the wizard who had come to their aid. "Harry?" he whispered.
Harry glanced at him briefly, then looked back at the attacking aurors, silently changing his shield to bounce a few of the less lethal spells back at them. "Why don't you two see about getting those kids out of here?" he suggested.
"From what Ron's told us, you would be quite happy to let them go about their work," George said as Fred moved to help the students.
Harry snorted. "Clearly, Ron has forgotten that my own mum was muggleborn, and so is one of my best friends, assuming she would talk to me again." He shot an irritated look at George. "Feel free to remind Ron of that, yeah? Just because I declared myself neutral doesn't mean I forgot my own morals."
"I'm sure it helps that no one'll recognise you," the older wizard replied drily, alluding to Harry's disguise.
Harry smiled grimly. "Are you kidding? Voldemort's here with me." Then he turned his full attention back to the aurors as they got some back-up, completely ignoring the slightly panicked look on George's face.
Just before the new arrivals could start adding their own spells to Harry's slowly weakening shield, there were terrified shouts from the crowd and Voldemort, in all his glory, stepped forward, causing a cease-fire with his mere presence. He met Harry's eyes and cocked an eyebrow in a silent, 'Will you stop this nonsense?'
Harry shook his head at him in response, but let his shield fall, carefully keeping his wand up in case one of the aurors decided to play Slytherin.
Voldemort hissed angrily and stepped up next to the auror who seemed to be leading the group to get a better idea what was going on. While he was busy with the Ministry lackeys, Harry glanced at the twins, both of whom were pale, and asked, "Are the kids safe?"
Fred nodded jerkily. "Got them out into London and called the Knight Bus for those who didn't have another way home."
Harry nodded. "Brilliant. Wait! Did they come into Diagon Alley alone?" he demanded, turning his head to look at the twins in horror.
Both twins grimaced. "They know the current political storm as well as anyone," Fred said grimly.
"Muggles in Diagon Alley would be killed immediately," George agreed. "Muggleborns stand a chance of getting by undetected."
Harry frowned at where Voldemort was watching him, still listening to the auror. The man seemed to be frowning at the explanation, so Harry asked, "How'd the aurors find out?"
The twins smiled grimly. "They didn't."
Harry turned to them with a frown. "What do you mean, they didn't?"
"One of the kids laughed at something we had that made a joke of the Ministry. A couple of those aurors took offense," Fred explained.
"They didn't find out until after the magical parents got their kids out of the way that the four still in the store were muggleborn," George finished.
Harry ground his teeth together, then stalked over to where Voldemort and the aurors were, completely ignoring the surprised sounds the twins made before hurrying to follow him. As soon as Harry was close enough, he snapped, "Which of your idiot men decided to fire on a child?"
Voldemort frowned at Harry, but the boy ignored him, more intent on getting an answer. The auror in charge of the group looked highly insulted and looked to Voldemort for his reaction to the interruption.
Harry snorted and looked to Voldemort at the lack of answer and said, "You know, I would have thought that the Ministry would have grown a backbone with your lot pulling the strings. Clearly, I'm wrong."
Voldemort's mouth twitched. "I believe he's more afraid of insulting me by assuming to answer a non-entity," the man replied easily.
Harry rolled his eyes, then looked back at the shocked aurors. "No backbone, and skin so thin you start shooting curses at laughing children. According to the Weasleys, your actions endangered some purebloods," he said, assuming the fact from what the twins had said. "Isn't Voldemort's stance the destruction of muggleborns and the strengthening of the pureblooded?" He glanced at Voldemort while the auror in charge looked furious. "By the way, just to clarify, I take insult to your stance."
"I'm well aware of your thoughts on the matter, Potter," Voldemort replied with a glare.
Harry shrugged. "Just thought I'd make sure everyone else who has been smearing my name through the mud does," he replied, eyes flicking to where a few daring people had moved close enough to hear were standing, looking surprised.
Voldemort glanced over his shoulder and narrowed his eyes as a number of people jerked back fearfully. "Perhaps it's best if we took this discussion off the street," he suggested, though it sounded more like an order.
The aurors seemed to agree, now that they knew who Harry was, so the man in the lead suggested the Ministry and Voldemort nodded. The aurors quickly apparated to the destination, with Voldemort following them after glancing at Harry to ensure the boy meant to come.
Harry turned to the twins and said, "I don't expect this will be pretty."
The twins traded looks, then both reached forward and gripped one of Harry's shoulders. "You're always welcome at our shop, Harry," Fred said.
"We know a true friend when we see him, even if he is rooming with a git," George added.
Harry grinned at them. "Wouldn't have decided to if your brother wasn't such a prat," he told them before stepping back and apparating to the Ministry.
Harry and Voldemort followed the aurors up to the Head Auror's office. There, Voldemort removed Harry's disguise and they sat down with the Head Auror and the man who'd been in charge of the group that started the mess in the Alley. They spent the better half of three hours arguing over what had happened, with Harry firmly playing the devil's advocate, as it were, in the argument. Curiously, once she realised she had someone who wasn't afraid to debate with Voldemort on her side, the Head Auror was quite adamant herself about the aurors not attacking children, muggleborns or not. (The woman had two kids in Hogwarts – a first year and a fourth year, both Ravenclaws – and couldn't condone attacking kids. She didn't seem fond of Voldemort's stance on the eradication of muggleborns, either, but seemed much less inclined to argue that point with a man who had no compunctions about killing her, no matter who had her back.)
When they returned to the base, both Voldemort and Harry had massive headaches – which only seemed to be feeding off each other, much to the two's irritation – but Harry had gotten Voldemort to agree to leaving children out of the fighting while they were still underage. He may not have ended the hunting of muggleborns, but at least Harry had gotten them a chance to learn enough to fight back.
Voldemort wasn't pleased with Harry, especially since the boy had started the argument in the middle of the Alley, but both wizards agreed that they should save their own argument for tomorrow, after their headaches had gone away. In the end, both he and Harry had downed headache potions and turned in early, much to the surprise of all the Death Eaters in the base, none of whom knew why the two seemed so tired and snappish.
By dinner that night, the story of what had happened in the Alley had gotten back to the base and wagers were made about the outcome of the impending talk that was sure to happen the next morning. Everyone knew better than to challenge Voldemort in public.
-0-0-0-
The talk actually happened that night. Harry woke from a nightmare around three in the morning and ended up retreating to his mind, where the line of photos on his mantle reminded him of better times. Voldemort, somehow sensing that he was up, came over to Harry's mind and settled comfortably into his own chair, mouth twitching with a smile when Harry chuckled at the man's comfort in Harry's own mind.
They sat in silence for a good ten minutes before Harry said, "I'm not sorry."
Voldemort sighed and looked at Harry tiredly. "Somehow, I didn't expect you to be."
Harry shrugged.
Voldemort shook his head. "Harry, we are the oddities; the children that don't fit the trend. Muggle blood dilutes the magic in any person."
"Muggle blood," Harry replied, leaning forward. He'd done some research the first time he'd heard some Death Eaters spouting their beliefs about muggleborns while he was studying one day in the library. "Not blood with magic in it. Muggleborns only have weaker children when they marry muggles. The few times they marry purebloods, their magic is stronger, especially when the pureblood comes from a long line of purebloods who kept intermarrying."
Voldemort sneered. "Like the Potters?"
Harry shrugged. "The Potters, the Dumbledores, the McKnights, the Jacobs." He smiled. "You and Snape. Although, admittedly, both your fathers were muggles, but you're both magically stronger than your mothers."
Voldemort leaned back in his chair with a frown, considering Harry words. "You've put some thought into this."
Harry sighed. "I looked at you, and I looked at me, and I thought it was strange, your take, when at least two halfbloods were stronger than most of the purebloods. So I looked into it. We're not 'oddities', Voldemort, we're the norm, for halfbloods, at least. Our world needs new blood. Consider, the number of squibs are directly parallel to the number of times a family has married a cousin, which means, from what I can tell, if we keep marrying only purebloods, we'll eventually die out."
Voldemort rubbed at his forehead and said, "And yet, the muggleborns keep returning to the muggle world, which raises the chances of our being discovered and does end in magically weaker children as they marry muggles."
Harry rolled his eyes. "How many muggleborns have jobs in our world?"
Voldemort considered that. "Not many."
"And why?" Harry demanded. "It's not like there aren't more that can get jobs. Plenty of muggleborns got good marks on their OWLs and NEWTs and could get a job in the Ministry or at a shop in Diagon Alley." When Voldemort shook his head, Harry said, "They go to the muggle world because the purebloods are given preference when applying for jobs, even if the muggleborn is more qualified. It's just like how women or those with darker skin are often overlooked for jobs or promotions in the muggle world. Vernon wouldn't have been as high in his job if the other people qualified for a promotion were white."
Voldemort sighed. "Muggleborns are often overlooked because they have strange ideas. Like how that muggleborn friend of yours thinks house-elves should be free."
Harry rolled his eyes at the reminder of Hermione's insistence, not even bothering to ask how Voldemort knew about that. "Perhaps that's because she was raised muggle, yes. And muggleborns often have trouble grasping the concept of magic because they're raised believing it doesn't exist. Perhaps we'd be better served trying to find a way to acclimate them to our world before they start their schooling, rather than just doing away with them." He leaned forward, seeing that Voldemort was honestly considering his words. "Voldemort, weren't you and I in the exact same boat as those muggleborns? Wouldn't it have been nice to have someone come to you when you first started showing signs of accidental magic and tell you what was going on? Maybe even take you away from muggles who simply weren't capable of dealing with it?"
Voldemort narrowed his eyes at the boy, but he had to admit that, in spite of the mention of his own past, Harry had made a good point. And he knew the boy hadn't made it that way to hurt Voldemort, because Harry himself had suffered at the hands of muggles who hated magic. Rather, the boy was using an example that they both understood to make a point that, admittedly, hit rather close to home.
What would life have been life for Voldemort if he'd been told at five about magic? If someone had been there to take him from the orphanage and raise him away from the terror of bombings and beatings? Someone who could have told the young Tom Riddle about his heritage and made him feel special? Someone who hadn't shrugged off the need for recognition as Dumbledore had once done.
Seeing the indecision on Voldemort's face, Harry pulled out his trump card. "Wouldn't it be nice to know that no other children grew up hated, as we did?"
Voldemort jerked back, as if hit, and stared at the open green eyes across from him. Without another word, the Dark Lord disappeared, leaving Harry hoping that his words hadn't done as much harm as he feared they had.
-0-0-0-0-0-
A/N: As I said at the top, sorry this took so long.
Hadn't meant for the thing at the Alley to happen, but I think it'll work out for the better. And it finally gave me the chance I've been trying to find to have Harry and Voldie have their talk about muggleborns. Yes, I've seen that reasoning before – might have even used it myself, in fact – but it works so well! XD
So, happy Christmas to those who celebrate it! And happy whatever you celebrate to those who celebrate something else. (Myself? I'm atheist, but the part of my family I spend the holidays with – not to mention Shara – celebrate Yule, so my holiday's already over. XD)
Well, I'm back to waiting for the newest Doctor Who to finish downloading. Maybe I'll work on another chapter while I'm doing that and have something else out before the New Year. -waggles fingers mysteriously- You can dream. XD
Cheers!
~Bats ^.^x
