CHAPTER SEVEN: THE SERPENT'S TOUCH REVISITED
The stone floor of the massive drawing room shone brightly. It should have, for Narcissa Malfoy had spent most of the late night cleaning and polishing every inch by hand. The Dark Lord promised severe punishment should her work fail to meet his high standards. Nearly a month had passed and there'd hardly been a single day when she did not merit his displeasure. She didn't know how yet, but she and Draco would have to find a way to escape here. Bella's earlier concern for her welfare seemed to be waning. No, it was clear her sister's first loyalty was to no one but the Dark Lord.
A meeting was taking place in the predawn hours. After she'd finished scrubbing and cleaning, Pettigrew quickly marched Narcissa upstairs and forced her into a nearly bare, cold and dank room. She waited for his retreating footsteps and then moved to the far wall and banged against it with a small stone she'd managed to pull loose from the sill of the single, barred window in the room. She heard nothing and banged a second time, finally rewarded when a similar, muffled sound was returned. Draco was indeed in his room. No doubt, his door was also locked. Narcissa didn't know if she should be relieved or frightened that Draco hadn't been awakened and summoned. She pressed her palms against the cold wall, as if willing her mother's touch to reach through to her son. Oh, how their lives had been turned upside down. Too tired to stand any longer, she dropped to her knees and crawled atop the old, thin, worn mattress that served as her bed and allowed her thoughts to carry her off into fitful dreams.
Below, a handful of select Death Eaters were assembling. Among them were Snape, Bellatrix, Wormtail and the enigmatic Baldwin. Total silence descended as Voldemort Apparated into the room and took his customary seat in the center. Nagini, cold, sleek and midnight black, slithered in behind him and curled at his feet. He looked at each of them and nodded for them to begin.
"My Lord," began Bellatrix, "things are still progressing, despite our need for a more circumspect, outside presence. The dementors are multiplying and are anxious for a more plentiful energy source. I've no doubt; they will come when called upon."
"Good," replied Voldemort. "Tell them my promise still holds. They will have an abundance of souls to feed upon. In the meantime, why don't you point one or two in the direction of those imbeciles who have been picketing the Ministry and demanding my capture. I believe the dementors might manage a light snack out of the encounter."
Bellatrix's wild eyes glistened with imagined pleasure as she replied, "As you wish, My Lord."
"Greyback, have you anything to add?" asked Voldemort.
"Nothing has changed, My Liege," he said darkly. "We werewolves have lived on the fringe of Wizarding society for centuries. Almost all are excited by your proposal. For the few who aren't – well, they can be dealt with. Our allegiance is yours."
"Dolohov?" Voldemort said lazily.
"The giants are less predictable; but for the moment, they are still aligned with us. We have been well served by relocating several of them closer to the counties. They are continuing to cause a fair amount of disasters for the Muggles. Ministry officials are running in circles trying to find plausible explanation for the Muggle authorities and performing Memory Charms. At the very least, we can count on them to distract the Ministry and provide time and cover for us when needed."
"Fine," said Voldemort. "I expect you to keep a close watch over them. Tell them I shall reward their allegiance handsomely. However, if they become too unreliable, we will simply have to destroy them."
"Yes, My Lord," answered Dolohov.
"Very well," added Voldemort. You and Greyback may leave. Wormtail will escort you out. I have additional business to discuss with the others."
"Wormtail, return here when you are finished," he added in dismissal.
Dolohov flashed a sinister look at Baldwin. He'd been irritated by him since Baldwin joined their ranks in late winter. He didn't know why, but something about him set his teeth on edge. Dolohov found him aloof, and he hated that his face usually betrayed nothing. In many ways, he thought Baldwin behaved a lot like Snape. The resemblance certainly wasn't a physical one. Although also tall and dark featured, Baldwin was sun bronzed and had the oddest, saffron hued eyes. He reminded Dolohov of a cat; he'd always distrusted cats. But he was most bothered by how quickly Baldwin had wormed his way into Voldemort's inner circle. So what, he'd managed to tail the Potter brat for a couple of days. How hard could that be when no one knows who you are and the subject is contained to a short radius? He knew Bella and Snape were among the Dark Lord's more valued followers, but he did not know how this new Death Eater had gained such favor so quickly.
"That really is none of your concern, Dolohov," said Voldemort coldly.
Dolohov colored with embarrassment at having his thoughts so easily read. He mumbled his apologies, bowed to Voldemort and followed Wormtail and Greyback from the room.
When Wormtail returned, this smaller contingent formed a semi circle in front of the still seated Voldemort.
"What have you to report this time, Baldwin?" asked Voldemort.
"Master, the Potter boy has left since my last surveillance," he said simply. "I saw no signs of him or his family. I was beginning to think they'd all gone on holiday. I returned once more this afternoon and finally spotted the Dursley boy with friends in a market area. In eavesdropping, I heard him bragging that his stupid cousin was finally gone for good. He said that Potter had gone off with his weird friends. I assume that to be the boy and girl with whom I spotted him last week."
Voldemort sat motionless, his red eyes glowing. "Yes, I'm sure it was Potter's little entourage, as usual," he finally said. "Severus, would they have gone alone?"
"With Potter, one can never tell. He has always done exactly as he wishes. Even if they left alone, I cannot imagine a scenario in which they have not joined up with the Order. No, My Lord, he is guarded, wherever he is."
"And where is that?" asked Bellatrix with unchecked sarcasm. "Oh wait, you can't tell us."
Snape's eyes remained on Voldemort's. "As you are aware, Potter has only ever been with the Weasleys and the Order. I have no idea where the former reside, but I am sure Pettigrew can provide that information. After all, he did live with them for twelve years. My Lord, if Potter is there, we can expect it to be well fortified."
"As for the latter, Bella, you are correct," Snape drawled when he finally deemed to look at her. "I cannot tell you or show you. Dumbledore learned a vital lesson when dear Peter here broke the Fidelius Charm that guarded the location of the Potter home. The penalty for revealing Order information is immediate and severe. Please note, I should say for deciding to reveal it -- for an Order member would be rendered disabled before any words could be uttered."
Bellatrix looked momentarily taken aback.
Snape's lower lip twitched and he pressed forward, "Dumbledore never forgot what happened to the Longbottoms, Bella. I think you inspired him to never before charted ground. What's that old adage? Oh yes, desperate times call for desperate measures."
Pettigrew flinched; he had never liked Snape when they were students and nothing had changed. Baldwin simply looked mildly entertained. Bellatrix, now recovered, was about to say something, but then her lips clamped upon each other.
"Silence," snapped Voldemort. "I warned you once, Bella. I am growing very tired of your child like tantrums. Perhaps a night of forced silence will help you remember that. Be gone."
Bellatrix vanished with a loud pop.
"Explanations are demanded by no one but me. They are to be given to no one but me. Do I make myself clear?" snarled Voldemort as the lights flickered in the room.
"Yes, Master," returned three voices.
"Wormtail, give Baldwin all the information you have on the Weasleys and their home. Tell him everything you can about each and every one of them. Severus is correct. If Potter is there, then the Order is standing guard. No matter, I believe another round of surveillance may prove useful."
"Of course, My Lord," crooned Wormtail.
"Baldwin, be ready to move on my signal. If Potter is indeed with them and the school reopens, their home could provide the perfect opportunity to extract the boy before he reaches Hogwarts."
"Yes, My Lord," and the two men disappeared.
"Severus, go visit young Malfoy and peruse his mind. I want all the information he has on Potter and his Weasley friends. Unfortunately, I am talking about all the annoying teenage dynamics. I want to know anything and everything that could present a potential weakness. Do not allow him to resist. If he does, tell him I will come and search his mind, myself."
"As you wish, Master," said Snape and he too was gone in a blink.
Alone, Voldemort conjured a goblet of wine and drank slowly from it. He lifted it in mock toast and hissed eerily, "Enjoy yourself while you can, Potter. For the ill prepared, life can be so very short."
Nagini lifted her head and hissed her apparent agreement.
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Hours later and many miles away, a second caucus was taking place.
When Mrs. Weasley found out the plan for Harry, Ron and Hermione's excursion on Wednesday morning, she predictably had a fit.
"No, you absolutely cannot go," she nearly shrieked.
Mr. Weasley and Lupin had to remind her that Ron and Hermione were of age, and there was nothing she could do to actually stop them. She turned to look at Harry, but he spoke first.
"Mrs. Weasley, I am going," he said kindly, but resolutely. "I need to do this, so please don't make it any harder."
She looked at Harry as if she were seeing him for the first time. After a brief moment, she nodded and said "Okay, but you must promise to be very careful."
"Remus, I'm holding you responsible," she added with a slight sniff.
"I would expect nothing less, Molly," he answered lightly. "Harry, do you have your Cloak?"
"Yes."
"Very well then, let's get going," Lupin added and turned towards the family room.
Bill and Kingsley were already in the room and as the rest entered, the door in the floor rematerialized. Kingsley dropped down and within moments a spark of blue light cracked in mid air.
"All clear," said Bill. "After you reach the bottom I'll give you two minutes, all right?"
"That should be sufficient. I'll contact you when we are ready to return."
Once they reached the tunnel floor and had walked no more than ten steps, Kingsley stopped the procession and turned to Lupin.
"I'll take Ron first and pop back. You and I can leave together with Hermione and Harry."
"Perfect. Harry, please put your Cloak on now," Lupin directed, as Ron and Kingsley Disapparated together.
Kingsley returned moments after Harry was covered by his father's Invisibility Cloak and pinned Hermione to his side. Harry grasped Lupin's left arm tightly. Seconds later, the foursome joined Ron on the outskirts of what appeared to be a quaint, picturesque town.
"Harry, don't take your Cloak off just yet. Tell me, where would you like to go, first?" asked Lupin.
Harry was glad he was still covered. He'd been so determined to come and now that he was here, he was feeling out of sorts.
"Umh, can you show me where the house was?" he asked, hoping he sounded calmer than he felt.
"This way," he answered. "Harry, walk beside me. I don't want any obvious gaps in our little procession. Ron and Hermione, you two stay close behind."
"I'll give you a few minutes and then follow," said Kingsley as his eyes began carefully scanning their surroundings.
Fifteen minutes later, the group rounded a tree-lined bend that opened up to a reveal a cozy little community, scattered with houses of varying sizes and designs. The smell of summer flowers was everywhere. Kids were out on bikes and playing in the neighborhood park. Other children's voices could be heard coming from a number of yards. They walked several blocks before Lupin slowed and finally stopped. Near the middle of the block, adjacent to a rather large home, stood nothing - well, at least it looked like nothing at first glance.
They walked nearer and Harry's stomach turned. He looked closely and identified remnants of a staircase poking just above ground level. They all moved closer. This lot was set further back from the sidewalk than the houses adjacent to it. The stone fireplace was still intact and stood tall and forlorn against what had once probably been the rear wall of the house. It had been nearly sixteen years since the house was destroyed. Everything else had been cleared away. There was no broken glass or splintered wood; there were only patches of grass that had grown in and around the property.
Harry heard Hermione's intake of breath and Ron's feet shifting in the dry, brittle bits of grass. They stopped, but Harry kept walking forward until he could see the soot and burn marks on the fireplace. His mouth went dry. Those weren't soot or burn marks; they were wand marks from fired curses and spells. Harry's mind pulled his oldest memory forward. He could hear his father yelling for Lily to take Harry and run as he stood to hold Voldemort off. He was standing on the very spot where Voldemort had murdered his father.
A stranger's voice suddenly drew all their attention and brought Harry from his reverie. A woman who looked to be in her early fifties was calling out a morning greeting as she neared Lupin.
"Hello," she said when she reached him. "I'm Eleanor Gattling. My family and I live next door."
"Hello, Mrs. Gattling. I'm Gavin Morgan," Lupin lied smoothly.
Ron and Hermione exchanged furtive looks, and Harry did a double take at Lupin from beneath his Cloak.
"You and your children look like really nice people," she added as she nodded toward Ron and Hermione. "My husband and I have been watching you through our kitchen window. I do hope you are considering buying this lot. It's been ages since we had neighbors on this side and it is such a lovely neighborhood."
"Well, we are in the market for a new home," continued Lupin with his ruse. "How long have you lived here, might I ask?"
"Oh, we've been here almost thirty years. A number of families have looked at the lot before; but somehow, no one's ever gone through with the purchase. My husband thinks it's cursed, but that's absolute rubbish."
"Why would he think that?" asked Hermione suddenly.
"It's a rather sad story, dear" said Mrs. Gattling. "About fifteen or so years ago, a young couple moved into the house that once stood here with their infant son. The Potters were a charmingly handsome couple, and their son was the cutest and sweetest little thing. They were two of the nicest people you'd ever want to meet. Mr. Potter was in some kind of technology business and worked from home. The neighborhood children used to flock over here. You see, James – that was the husband's name -- was quite a hand at magic tricks and used to entertain the other children for hours in the backyard. His wife used to say he loved doing it because he was such a big kid himself."
Everyone was listening intently to her story.
"Anyway," she continued, "they'd been living here maybe a year, when something went terribly wrong. Late one night, the house suddenly blew up. That blast destroyed almost every inch of the house. Mr. and Mrs. Potter were killed. Miraculously, the baby survived and we were told he'd been sent to live with other relatives. The neighborhood was devastated. Since then, the lot was cleared and has stood empty. Oh, I do hope you seriously consider buying it. It would be so nice to see it alive again."
She was quiet for a moment and then added, almost to herself, "I wonder what became of that beautiful little boy. He should be about the same age as your kids. Anyway, I've taken up enough of your time. I'll leave you be," she said and extended her hand to Lupin.
Lupin took it and said, "It has been a pleasure talking with you. Thank you."
Mrs. Gattling waved goodbye to Ron and Hermione and left.
Harry felt like he was going to lose his breakfast. He could see Lupin, Hermione and Ron watching for any sign of reaction from where they thought he was standing. The ground beneath his feet seemed to be cartwheeling.
"Harry," called Lupin quietly, "where are you?"
Harry could not answer. Standing where his parents' lives had ended and hearing so much about them from a total stranger was too much.
From seemingly out of nowhere, storm clouds moved in and the wind picked up noticeably. Kingsley had been discreetly hidden nearby. He hadn't heard any of Mrs. Gattling's exchange, but moved in when he saw Lupin's brow crease in concern.
A shake from Hermione's head stopped both he and Lupin from moving any closer. Hermione grabbed Ron by the hand and began a slow traverse of the ground in front of them. She hoped the neighbors were no longer watching, because they certainly looked odd. Finally she stopped and turned her head, tilting it towards a sound she heard.
It was Harry trying really hard to catch his breath and to stop his heart jumping from his chest. Hermione dragged her feet in the direction of the sound and stopped when she hit something solid, Harry's leg. Ron let go of Hermione's hand and walked to Harry's other side. As discreetly as possible, each reached across a few inches to grab a hold of Harry under his Cloak. He was bent forward with his palms on his knees. His entire body was shaking and his skin felt like he'd just surfaced from the Black Lake.
"Harry, just close your eyes and breathe in slowly and deeply," said Hermione calmly.
Several long, anxious moments later, Harry finally found his voice and his friends released their grip.
"Maybe this wasn't the best idea, after all. I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't this," he said.
"No one thought this would be easy for you, Harry," Lupin said as he again walked towards him. "Are you okay?"
"No," he said honestly.
"Do you want to go back to the Burrow?" asked Ron.
"No, not yet; but I don't want to stand around here anymore, either. Lupin, do you know where they are?" Harry asked warily.
"Yes, I'll take you there now. It isn't too far and the walk will probably help," Lupin answered, glancing up casually to see the storm clouds slowly receding from the late morning sky.
Lupin had been right. By the time they neared the cemetery, Harry felt eerily calm. He was strangely tired, but no longer felt ready to crawl out of his skin.
"I am certain we are alone, Remus," said Kingsley.
"Good. Harry, you may remove your Cloak now, if you wish," he said.
Harry did so and the soft summer breeze ruffled his hair as he continued following Lupin along the cemetery paths.
Somewhere behind them, Kingsley stopped and took up surveillance again. He kept Ron and Hermione with him. By the time Lupin and Harry slowed their pace, he could just make out the others' outlines some distance away.
"Go ahead, Harry," said Lupin. "It is just past that second tree. I shall wait here for you. Take as much time as you need."
Harry nodded and continued along the path. In what seemed like the longest moment of his life, he found himself standing in front of the double headstone that marked his parents' graves. Harry's breath hitched slightly and his heart thudded against his ribcage, but he did not feel sick again. He moved closer. It was a moderate sized, cobalt blue granite headstone. In intricately carved gold-filled script, it read:
James and Lilly Potter
¥ 1 9 6 0 - 1 9 8 1 ¥
The World Owes You Much
May Peace Await You
Harry didn't know how long he'd stood there or when he finally moved. He simply found himself kneeling on their graves, his right hand outstretched toward the headstone. It was smooth and cool to the touch, even on a summer's morning. Vases of fresh cut white and sterling roses stood on either side of the headstone. He wondered where they'd come from.
Mrs. Gattling's words came back to him in waves, "such a wonderful couple…nicest people…neighborhood devastated."
Harry couldn't help but conjure images of what life might have been without Voldemort, without the prophecy. He probably would have grown up here, laughing and playing much the same way as the kids they'd seen today. He physically ached for the family he never had. His heart bled for all the years his parents lost; they had been so young. Before he knew it, tears were streaming down his face. He didn't even try to hold them back. He allowed himself to grieve for absolutely everything and everyone, unchecked. Finally, when his tears were spent and he had nothing else to give, Harry wiped his face with the backs of his hands and stood slowly.
He read the headstone inscription once more and in barely above a whisper, vowed, "Mum and Dad, I swear I will end this. Peace won't await anyone until this is over. Please help guide me. I love you both."
He took another long look before leaving and turning to walk very slowly back along the path.
"I'm ready to leave," he said quietly when he reached Lupin.
Lupin looked at him and knew there was absolutely nothing to say. He simply nodded at Harry and took out his wand. A streak of orange light shot through the afternoon sky. Minutes passed and a blue streak answered Lupin's own. Kingsley waved from the distance and they watched as he, Ron and Hermione turned and vanished from where they'd been standing.
Harry stood side by side with Lupin and on his mark, they too Disapparated and were soon back in the tunnel beneath the Burrow. When the trio was safely in the house, Lupin and Kingsley said they needed to take off again for Order headquarters. Harry thanked them both and headed for the kitchen.
Mrs. Weasley had a late lunch waiting for them. The friends were all rather quiet and once they'd finished, Ron asked, "Hey, are either of you up for a game of chess?"
Harry shook his head. "No, you two go ahead. I'm a bit tired. I think I'll go lie down. Hey…thanks again for going with me today. It really meant a lot. I'll see you at dinner."
With that, he rose and headed for the staircase and the quiet of Ron's attic room. His head was starting to throb as he collapsed on his back across the second bed. Harry stared at the ceiling for the longest time until fatigue finally won out and he fell into an uneasy sleep.
