Chapter 7 - … And Answers
"M-my L-lord?"
He looked over to see Lady Goyle hunched forward on her knees staring at him with hope, dread, and wariness in her eyes. In her arms, the black eyed baby also stared at him as he stared at it. The child's green slits were focused on him with an uncanny awareness in them.
Voldemort gripped his wand tightly as he fought the urge to kill off Goyle for showing him such a pitiful expression and tone, then once his rage was under control again, he wrenched his eyes from the boy to turn to the other two men while pulling out another one of the potions that would allow him to get more answers. The woman retreated back towards the fire and watched what was happening with wide eyes while ignoring her husband's whispered questions on why she was ignoring him.
"Drink this," he commanded as he glared at Smith, daring him to see what would happen if he hesitated or balked. The dirty blonde man shakily stood and reached out to take it without a word and Jones breathed out in relief as he recovered from the mental assault of earlier. Both men avoided looking at the frozen corpse of the unfortunate third.
Once Smith downed his potion and was lying on the floor with his eyes rolled back until only the whites were visible, Voldemort pointed to the baby. "Why can't I touch him?" he asked while frowning, the question coming out as a demand in his anger of having answers denied him for so long. "Why are his eyes like that and why won't he stop staring at me?"
What is the rank[position]{benefits}||rewards currently [...]
Voldemort scowled at the question and he considered the answers he had received so far. "With the proper learning, I'll make him warden," he snapped.
Nooooo [...]
Closing his ruby eyes and gritting his teeth to swallow down his frustration, he considered drinking the calming draught he had brought with him to keep from spoiling the negotiations but shoved that thought to the side. He wasn't weak and could control himself. It took him a minute to properly sift through the annoyance of not getting what he wanted, but once he did, he realized he didn't know what they wanted. Still.
"What do you want for him?" he asked cooly, settling back into his chair and resolving to stay composed so they wouldn't see another weakness again.
Rank||Status[equal]{Not your follower…}
The breathed demand issued from Smith's mouth was met with silence as George Goyle looked up in shock and Jones cringed away, both men expecting an angry outburst. Lucinda kept her head down and focused on the baby though she would occasionally peek around as though reassuring herself that everyone was really there.
"Nobody is my equal," Voldemort declared, finally breaking the silence as his red eyes blazed with cold fury.
Similar||equivalent{Not a minion.} [...]
He pondered that silently for a bit and studied the trinkets on the shelves as he considered the options. They were immortal beings that could not be contained or controlled but could be bargained with. At the same time, their agreements only held as long as a better offer did not come along. He could go to war with them, but the most they could do was keep them at bay, and not many of the dark families could cast a patronus. After the wars, not many people could at all. His plans to take over all of wizarding Europe over the next ten or so years would be halted if he had to also fight them off.
He could adopt the child as his magical heir and he had no worries over them being able to suck out his soul so that they could install the baby as the next ruler. Horcruxes could not be destroyed by that method and he had some kind of immunity to their aura because of the baby - not that it affected him much before. Still, he fully intended to have a hand in rearing whatever children he had to help him with his rule, and the dementors had too much control there.
"What is your agenda with the baby?" he asked without looking towards them, needing more information. He had asked something similar but their answer was vague the first time.
The dementors shifted again and the one that had been watching from above swooped down towards Lady Goyle. When she saw it coming, she laid the child on the floor and scooted backwards towards the blue flames to keep well away as it scooped up the baby so hold it.
Ourssss||Hisss Whatever he wantsss [wantingneedingpossesspossessed]
The hissed words conveyed longing and yearning and the baby was held like the most delicate of treasures in a room lined with them. Voldemort felt surprised that creatures like this could feel that way about anything. It definitely was not love nor affection but it had the feel of a starving man looking upon a feast from afar knowing that he could not touch the meal yet.
Voldemort felt disgust and he hid it behind an impassive expression as he watched the third join the other two so they could reach out and brush the baby with their talons. He thought it pathetic that such powerful creatures could be controlled with such a weakness, then felt smug that he found the key to their bargaining chip.
The dementor that seemed to be the main communicator looked up at him then.
Wrooooong. If he diieess, he dieess. He iss not our weakness. He will be our strength if he is the right one [...]
He cursed himself silently as he recalled they eat any positive emotions. They had apparently picked up on his smug feelings, and he realized he had to watch out better since he didn't know what else they could pick up on. But their answer to the unvoiced question just created more again to his annoyance.
"What strength could a baby give you?" he scoffed, then frowned over to the Goyles. George was shaking his wife Lucinda who had just let out a low wailing noise as she struggled to get away from him. "Stop making a fuss and let her be," he snapped to the man.
We do not know [...] Completion [...]
"But my Lord, she's being-" Goyle began before his own screams of pain began when Voldemort finally unleashed the Crucio he'd been wanting to cast. Lady Goyle stared at her husband with wide eyed fascination as he screamed as she backed away a safe distance from her husband, not even seeming to recognize who he was. Jones edged back towards the table and prayed internally that everyone would continue to ignore him.
"You will be silent, Goyle, and you will keep your wife silent and make sure I am not interrupted," he warned after he cut off his curse, then turned back to the matter at hand. "I am considering him as my magical heir, but there will need to be concessions made for that."
The child hadn't taken his eyes off of Voldemort the whole time he had been held though he had fisted the ratty robes of the dementor holding him and had begun to suck on it as they silently conferred with each other in whatever method is was that they used.
Let him be as he will want to be [...]
He scowled at the baby as he considered it, then curled his lip to sneer when the child pulled his fist out of his mouth to smile at him. Released the robe altogether, it waved its arms in the direction of the Dark Lord eagerly and he looked away with contempt.
"As long as he doesn't turn against me, but I expect my answers first," he agreed. "What's with that creature and why are his eyes the way they are?"
We Fed him first [...]
Voldemort snapped his head back to stare at the child. "Fed him first?" he asked. "Is that why I can't touch him?"
Nooo [...] He was fed part of his mother's soul. It was her wish to protect him from you. It will last for 15 years before the soul is consumed [...]
He paused again to consider the reply while watching the baby flail, silently making demands to be held by him which he ignored while the dementors reached out to stroke the baby. Their information neatly answered what occurred - her soul had tied the curse down in a different way, forcing him to allow the child to live at the risk of his own magic and soul being consumed otherwise.
"Why did you feed him that if you knew she wanted him dead?" he asked as he leaned forward, interested in the answer.
She asked for her child to be safe [...] She thought her child would be perished and hoped to kill you [twisted] Willingly gave herself [she was confused] Sacrifice could not be wholly consumed [love] and so it was fed. He accepted and changed [...]
Which explained the eyes, Voldemort concluded. He wondered if the child had other things to it. "And when he finishes consuming the soul, will he be normal once again?" he asked.
We do not know, has never been done. Ekrizdis tried, but could not accept [...]
The baby, red faced from its fight to get at the Dark Lord, finally let out a shrill yell of demand that made Lucinda whimper slightly as she opened her arms involuntarily to take the child though she was halfway across the room while she withdrew like she didn't want it at all. Her husband grimaced at her behavior and finally gave up his efforts of trying to get her to respond to him.
He wanted the baby dead.
The dementors shifted to stare at him and another swooped in from the double doors to take over the third's position on the ceiling. Voldemort folded his arms across his chest as he glared daggers at the child which it returned with a smile that made him shudder and look away. His eyes landed on the books on the mantle.
"What is written within those?" he asked, changing the subject but refusing to retract his wish to kill the baby.
Ekrizdis's journals
Their reply was short this time without the usual breathy whisper that conveyed more by silence or concepts. They didn't like how he felt about the baby and he smirked.
Don't mistake our protections for love or dislike [foolish] We have purpose and this one will serve as we serve [...]
Voldemort stood abruptly, knocking his conjured chair to the floor, and he struggled against the red he saw when they conveyed how he was human, and thus, foolish. He was no mortal nor did he have their inherent weaknesses! Shoving his hands into his sleeves to grip his wand, he sneered at them even as he squashed his anger as well.
He was attributing their actions in how they handled the child as devotion because that is what people normally did.
They were not human.
They were not motivated by the same things humans were.
"I wish to read the books," he gritted out while relaxing his grip on the wand. When they refused to respond, he drew his wand and hit Goyle with another crucio and let the sound of the man's screams take off the worst edge of his anger while staring at the child and imaging it was him.
The baby giggled, the sound carrying like bells over Goyle's screaming.
The melodic noise made Lucinda look up in shock and the dementors stare down at it.
[...] One page. One page, and one last question, and then we bargain further concessions.
The whisper carried through the room and it began to darken slightly. Voldemort cut off the curse and stalked over towards the mantle, kicking the fallen man when he reached him, but when he reached out for a book, the dementor above swooped down to point at the thinnest volume.
Others are trapped||Best chance [...]
He glared at the creature before reaching cautiously for the it pointed to him. Their warning implied it would be trapped as well, but less so compared to the others. When his finger brushed the cover, however, nothing happened. It came free from its place with barely a sound and it was warm in his hands.
He looked around the room once more. Smith was on the floor and under the influence of the potion whereas Jones was all but under the table appearing like he was living in some nightmare while his bloodshot eyes darted about the room. George Goyle was curled up on the human hair rug while Lucinda all but cowered inside the blue fire itself as she stared off to the side with terror in her gaze. He followed her line of sight to an empty and shadowy corner, then dismissed it to walk back to his chair that he righted with a flick of his wand.
"The child's privileges will stand only as long as he doesn't betray me," he warned them as he stroked the soft and warm cover of the bound journal. Then they nodded an agreement, he looked down to observe it better.
He was correct the first time he had seen the volumes - it was bound in human skin. The skin appeared to still be alive, though, and that was where the warmth came from. He didn't even need to peer closely to see the network of blood veins that ran through the tanned flesh, and it made him wonder what spells created the nice effect.
He opened the cover carefully and flipped through the pages quickly to reveal they were much the same though thinner. Thin veins were what formed the letters and he wondered if the pages would bleed were he to stab them. He selected the page he was allowed at random and began to read.
'I curse myself a fool for tolerating mortal whims for centuries. I built havens
for the foul creatures and gave some the honor of carrying my seed, yet they
only offered great betrayals that brought destruction.
Each day that passes I recall the sinking of Atlantis and the burial Pompeii.
Emrys, my firstborn, and his tainted blood causing foolish ideals that saw
the elimination of my third borne's line and lands. He was taught that notions
of good and evil were but mortal concepts of life and death, but he fell in with
their teachings instead. I should have washed my hands then of humans and
their ways, but I persisted because of magical beings.
Tenochtitlan. What is now the Stonehenge was once where Medeis began
and each block was a great portal that I crafted by which all magical people
could travel and gather when the stars were aligned. Human greed tried to
subjugate the elves whose magic was what powered the place, and when they
fled to lands beyond, they took my city with them with my blessings.
I have named my new project Azkaban to strike terror into the hearts of muggles
and wizards alike. If they wish for so much destruction, then shall receive it. There
is power in names and locations, and I shall harness it all to show them what
real terror is. Religion was the last straw… I shall raise their very own Hell
on Earth, and it will be powered by them using all the techniques I learned
through the millenniums.'
Voldemort became aware of his surroundings when the book was snatched from his hands. He had been there to each of those locations named. Atlantis was once a grand city where humans, wizards, and magical races all lived together on a large island in the Mediterranean Sea, though it was different then than it was now. The book had drawn him in with images and he saw the beautiful buildings that reflected light from the mother of pearl inlays and the streets that were lined with bricks long before any other kingdom used them. The survivors had taken that knowledge with them and used it in other locations once Atlantis fell - a power hungry wizard that sought to rule all had tried to steal the ambient magic that maintained the city. He could not handle it, however, and his loss of control had cause the whole location to explode.
Medeis was interesting. He had gotten images of the muggle's fae to represent the elves, though they were dark skinned rather than fair and their teeth were as sharp as any goblin's teeth. Some few had doxy-like wings, but he couldn't make sense of what that meant though he had a sense that it had something to do with caste.
The Great Portals in Medeis were what filled his head. They could only be opened at nights and the black depths kept whole galaxies stored within them. He had a sense that it was to one of those that the elves fled to, and he wondered if there was relation to house elves here in any way. One again, though, it was humans that had betrayed and ruined it all.
The passages had hinted at other cities not mentioned, or rather more flickering images. Tenochtitlan had meshed with other great Egyptian cities along with the name Thoth. Emrys was Merlin himself, the greatest wizard to ever have lived. Ekrizdis had children that he watched kill each other or was killed by others, but the snapping point appeared to be religion from how the journal had made him feel.
An all consuming hatred of anything resembling religion or concepts of good and evil. He watched the last of his descendants die in the name of the Spanish Inquisition when the muggles had found their small sanctuary. They were led by a wizard named Torquemada, a muggle born that had stayed with the church that had rejected magic as evil. Still, he used it to bring down the wards around the small village just to wipe out the last of his line…
Voldemort clutched his chest at the jarring pain he felt and snarled as he fought off the waves of memories, grief, and hatred. He checked his occlumency and his magical core as he struggled against the pressure and found he was not being possessed, or at least not in the way he initially thought. The book would have consumed him wholly had it not been taken away, and he understood why they had limited him to one page. No doubt a lesser man would have been overwhelmed, and that additional thought helped him keep his own mind intact.
Whoever Ekrizdis was - and the name was not his own he had sensed - he had not been human probably. A divine being would be more accurate, but that was not right either. He had always been here from what Voldemort had sensed, and he was someone that had tried to help guide mankind before he had retreated from civilization in disgust. Something Voldemort could sympathize with.
That, or the man was stark, raving mad and had delusions that he planted in his books.
When he finally got his breathing under control, he looked up and stared at the dementors holding the baby that was still smiling at him. Was the child a descendent of Ekrizdis? He didn't think so, he had a strong sense from what he read that the last of the bloodline had been eradicated. What could kill such a powerful wizard? No doubt Dumbledore would have said hate, and he could almost believe it since reading only one rambling page had nearly consumed him with it. Did living so long cause one to be able to feel that deeply? Voldemort felt his insides quiver with revulsion and he dismissed that question with contempt.
One question. Damn them, they knew he would want to know more. They had already said they did not know where he had come from nor much of his past, and he had a feeling they had not lied. There was one question they could answer, however.
"How is the baby tied in with Ekrizdis and his plans?" he rasped out without breaking eye contact with the green pupils.
However he wantss to be [...] We do not plan, Azkaban does [lives] Master gave many lives for Her to be and he lives on in her [She chose]{He chose} to be and we||us obey [...]
The last breathy word was gasped out with Smith's last life force, and Voldemort glared at the body of the dead man. He had looked to age only a couple decades, but the soul had been consumed. He pulled out the last vial and looked to Jones who was now staring in a horrified fashion at the same corner both Goyles were. Voldemort craned his neck to see what was there, and seeing nothing as before, he shook his head then shot a stinging hex at the man to get his attention.
Jones looked at the Dark Lord with terror filled eyes while his mouth worked silently up and down, and when he noticed the vial that was held out, he scrambled over on all fours to eagerly accept it. The man yanked the top open and downed the whole thing as though eager to embrace death, and when he went into the trance, there was a flicker of relief before that also smoothed out to nothing and he collapsed limply onto the rug by Smith's body.
"Concessions, then," Voldemort bit out. "And you can have whoever remains alive for I want no living beings to be able to walk out after learning all this."
At their nod of agreement, he continued. "I want more say in the child's life. If he is to have open privileges, then I want to ensure he will be loyal to me. In return, he will want for nothing and there will be nothing barred to him," he says shortly, wanting to be done with this. "Schooling with private tutors and I will see about getting him children as companions on weekends up in the prison yard. If there are more things he wants as he grows, I will see about obtaining them. In turn, I will want to come and visit when I would like, though most likely that will not occur too often until he can hold an intelligent conversation."
How will you ensure his loyalty [.?.]
Voldemort smirked at the question that had a curious air to it as the child blinked sleepily, and he noticed its eyes had reverted into looking human. He raised a smooth brow at that as he replied. "By becoming one of his tutors, of course. By that age, I expect him to be able to leave Azkaban for short periods to accompany me."
The one above him screamed at that and the shuffling the rest of them did showed they were not too happy with the reply though they appeared to be deliberating over it. The child struggled briefly in the arms carrying it before the dementor adjusted its hold so that it could glare at the Dark Lord, beautiful emerald eyes changing back to green slitted ones as he focused on him. Voldemort chuckled in response.
With uss for company [...]
Voldemort gave a curt nod and stood up, ready to leave this place, but his movement was enough to draw Lady Goyle's attention back to him from where she had been staring off to though her husband hadn't looked away. By his expression, he couldn't look away - whatever he was imagining was terrible enough that he dared not to.
"My Lord," she whispered, struggling to enunciate properly for her last change while glancing at the dementors as though seeking permission to speak. When they didn't even look her way, she looked up at him with tears forming in her eyes. "Please…I beg of you…. Don't leave me here again. They never let me be and I am allowed no more than whispered incantations."
Voldemort tilted his head slightly as though considering her request, seeing a chance to learn more about his new charge. "What of the baby?" he asked. "He might be my magical heir. What have you learned of him?"
Her eyes brightened with hope, though that was still a dim star deep within the blue depths that screamed out the horrors in her mind. She edged towards him like a starved and abused dog, and when he made no move to hurt her, she kissed the hem of his robes with a silent sob.
"I b-believe he is almost blind, my Lord," she admitted, her voice rusty with disuse. "The black ones… he uses them to see. He never laughs or cries, and when he wants something, he looks to the dementors and they seem to know what he needs. He stared at me initially like I was a fascinating insect… but now I don't even warrant a glance. Is it time for me to go? I've been a good mommy, I promise."
Her voice broke at the end, and Voldemort smirked. "It is no wonder that you don't even warrant a second look from a baby," he said cruelly as he jerked his robes out from her grip and started for the door. "A good mother, however, would never request to abandon her baby. Your time isn't up, and if I hear you beg again, I'll fix it to where you will never be able to leave."
Her last hope disappeared as the Dark Lord blended in with the shadows outside of the doorway she would rather die slowly over rather than cross on her own. When the door began to swing shut, she screamed as she remembered one of Them was in the room as well. She scrambled back to the safe haven of the fire and covered her head with her arms, resolved not to look in that direction again.
Not even when the screams of her husband and the other man who had been on the floor began. Not even after the child was placed in her arms some time later to be fed while he watched whatever was still going on with inquisitive green eyes.
The dementors fed off of happiness and caused despair. They fed off of terror and caused madness.
AN: Alright, here's chapter 7 for you all. Sorry for any bad grammar, my beta is on hiatus, and I can't edit my own work or I toss it all out the window. Sad part is, I have edited a few published books, but when it comes to looking over my own things, I just can't do it.
On another note, I'm still writing up chapter 8. Unfortunately, I have my hands full with my lupus flareup which means my sadistic streak has given me the middle finger and my creativity has gone into hibernation and keeps slapping the snooze button. Hopefully I shall have it done before next weekend though and shall update the story then.
I hope that this chapter and the last one has finished answering the majority of questions. I would like to thank you all again for following and favoriting this story, but I would like to especially thank the reviewers that ask questions and give critique since it makes me try to work past my health issues to keep writing ^^
John Dark - I'm picky about my Voldy's romance, too. I'm an HPLV person, but Voldy here is just using sex as another tool of control amongst his followers and it definitely isn't going to be a LVLM fic hehe.
Luna - thanks for the Pettigrew comment! I thought it a delicious twist of irony as well!
Djberneman - That is a surprise for the future ^.~
Meowmeep and ThisIsMyLife - Thanks for the support! I shall continue to strive to create beautiful darkness =)
