Chapter 7
Chapter Warnings: smoking, threatening
"The Tides Turn"
-Emperor's Chambers-
Matlal
Matlal tried to calm himself as he stood in front of the chamber doors. He was already certain as it was that the Dark Lord knew his every thought, even without Legilimency, and he didn't want to be even more obvious about his agreement to betray the man who held his very existence in his grasp in front of said man.
Matlal took a deep breath and pushed open the doors.
He was assaulted with the smell of fresh blood as soon as the doors closed behind him. Matlal peered down at the small body in front of him and the puddle of blood that had formed under it. He looked away and clenched his teeth together when he realized the body belonged to the youngest Crabbe.
He kept his head tilted up in the hope of not having to see the small form again and looked around the room for a distraction against the rising bile in his throat.
His eyes caught on the hunched figure on the bed.
The Emperor was slouched over, one knee raised and clutch in one of his hands as he stared blankly at the boy in front of him. The sheets still covered him and his other arm gripped his hair, pulling at the strands.
From the angle the boy was positioned, it looked as though the Dark Lord had flung him from the bed and onto the floor. For what reason, Matlal could not discern.
"He was here." Matlal focused back on the other man. He hadn't moved other than to tighten the grip on his hair while he spoke. "He was here, and then he got away again. He always gets away in the end."
The Emperor's eyes flickered away from the dead body and he fell backwards onto the bed.
"Tricky bastard."
Matlal reached back and opened the door behind him and walked out without turning his back to the man on the bed. Not that it seemed that the other would notice him leaving; he had a feeling that he hadn't even noticed him entering.
Matlal walked away from the doors with a feeling that something had changed. That something had shifted inside of him.
Matlal started in the direction of the gardens.
-Rebel Movement Underground Headquarters-
-3 weeks later-
Reilly
Reilly looked over the offered materials in front of her.
There was a variety of papers and book and pictures and trophies scattered on her desk.
The gathering process had taken less time than she expected and had garnered a whole lot more information than she had even imagined existed.
Only three weeks. Three weeks of scourging vaults and dusty rooms. Three weeks of a constant influx of trash to be sorted through and categorized. Three weeks to finally find the answer the Rebel Movement had been in search of for hundreds of years.
A way to destroy the Dark Lord Voldemort.
The information was found in an old schooling book, one that should have most certainly been destroyed during the beginning of the new age when all text of its ilk had been pillaged and burned.
Reilly felt a swell of pride coursing through her at the prospect that this feat had been accomplished under her rule. It would be absolutely perfect if they could only just get their hands on the final piece of the puzzle.
Reilly sighed and lent back in her chair and reached for a picture sitting on the top of the pile.
It depicted a threesome of short school children in uniforms dating before the Dark Order. They were carefree and so painfully obviously light that it made Reilly nervous just looking at them.
But that didn't matter.
What mattered was the names on the back of the photo and the eerily familiar face of the middle boy. Harry James Potter, defeater of the Dark Lord Voldemort and son of James and Lily Potter, was the Emperor's mystery boy.
A boy who went missing when the Emperor won the war.
A boy who was as good as dead, and probably had been for hundreds of years.
But, Reilly could see that what the boy had done was on the right track if the Emperor admired him enough to immortalize him in such a way as he had.
-Castle Gardens-
Hayden
Hayden waited under the large tree on the edge of the gardens, calming smoking a cigarette and waiting for Amun to show his face.
It had taken them a considerate amount of time to get in a position to work together. The bonding experience involved a lot a frustration and thrown objects with only the help of a little blank notebook to guide them.
Hayden was pretty sure the Matlal had cursed him six ways to Sunday by the end of the first two days (for he most certainly had written down quite a few things about his family less than perfect blood), but after the fifth day it became easier for the both of them to peacefully communicate with each other.
Hayden wasn't exactly sure what sent Amun on his way to the gardener, but Hayden wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, and that's exactly what Amun was.
If there was one person who had a high enough rank to get the Emperor, it was the Matlal.
Hayden blew out a last puff of smoke before dropping the bud and crushing it under his heel as the side door of the castle opened.
"You're late." He stated as the shorter man approached him.
Amun gave him an annoyed look before scribbling on his notebook and showing Hayden.
"The Emperor was freaking out about the Hostem."
Hayden tilted his head to the side in curiosity.
"Hostem?" Matlal's eyebrows scrunched together before they smoothed out in realization a moment later.
"The boy in the painting. The Emperor keeps his body in his rooms. He's really weird about him. Creepy-" Hayden stopped reading and instead let the knowledge sink in.
"The boy's alive?" Matlal's eyebrows creased again and he nodded his head slowly. "New information came in from headquarters today. The boy from the paintings was identified as a Harry Potter."
Matlal raised his eyebrows in slight interest but he didn't deem the new info as overly important. Putting a name to the face was cool and all, but it was of no use to him.
"The boy, Potter, was born before the Dark Order." Amun's eyes flickered with a flair of curiosity at the other's words. "He was the Dark Lord's greatest rival." Amun turned fully towards the taller man, his attention caught. He tried to imagine the unconscious boy fighting against the Emperor.
His face twisted in amusement at the very idea of it.
"He killed the Dark Lord once." Matlal froze at the words.
'Killed?' Matlal wondered. 'He killed the Emperor? How?' Hayden recaptured Matlal's attention.
"If the boy is still alive, Amun, he can help us kill the Emperor." Hayden grabbed the shorter's shoulders. "We can defeat him with Potter. We have to tell Headquarters the news. We have to-"
Matlal held up his hand to slow down the other's words.
"He's unconscious. I've never seen him conscious before, I don't think he can help us in any way. Not in the state he's in."
Hayden read the words on the page quickly and frowned when he finished.
"We still need to report it, even if it ends up not meaning anything." He finally murmured, his brow lowered over his eyes as he tried to concentrate.
Amun nodded in concurrence and turned back towards the castle.
Hayden watched him walk away and thought on the new information.
When Matlal had finally disappeared behind the door, Hayden left the gardens and headed towards headquarters.
He desperately prayed to the Emperor that this didn't end up as just more useless information.
He needed a revolution, and he needed it now.
-Castle Guest Room-
Armand
Armand sat alone in his and Abelina's bedroom.
His wife and daughters had thrown themselves into Belva's wedding and Hania's upcoming child. They busied themselves with dresses and party planning, leaving Armand in his grief over the loss of his youngest child and only son.
He had never felt more angry at his wife in all his life.
She had shaken off Vincens' accident like it was nothing.
Like Vincens was nothing.
Their only son had died and she could care less.
Armand stood up from the desk and flopped face-down on the bed. He knew that bad things would befall his family when the Emperor had asked for his daughter's hand, but he would never have guessed that it would be a fire that took his beloved son from him.
The Emperor had held off the wedding for a few weeks after Vincens' body was discovered. He had said he wanted to give them time to mourn, but it seemed like Armand was the only one to do so.
His wife was poisoning his daughters with her unruffled attitude towards her son's death.
He would die before he let his children lose their humanity.
-Emperor's Chambers-
Matlal
Matlal relaxed as the door closed upon the departure of the Emperor.
The older man had been restless and paranoid since the "accidental" death of the youngest Crabbe child.
He had become ten times more violent and unreasonable, and Matlal was amazed by the fact that no one else seemed to notice except for him.
Matlal slumped down in the chair in front of the Emperor's desk.
He was so tired of this.
The constant fear that the Dark Lord would turn on him; the worry of being caught working with the Rebels; the inability to speak out loud.
Everything just really sucked.
Amun leaned back in the chair and his eyes fell on the body on the bed.
The Emperor had yet to remove the Hostem's body and Matlal would leave and enter the room to the sight of the Dark Lord staring intently at the body.
With the information Amun had gathered from Hayden, he could see the hints the Emperor left that pointed to the Dark Lord being fearful of the stirring of the Potter boy's body.
He constantly watched the boy. He had gone out of his way to ensnare the boy's replica, going so far as to engage the target's sister…know that Matlal thought on it, what would happen to the Crabbe Family now? They had lost their usefulness to the Emperor, so why was the wedding continuing?
A sound coming from the other side of the room drew Matlal's attention.
He looked over towards the Hostem, but he could discern nothing, so he stood up and slowly approached the bed.
Upon reaching it, he swept his gaze over the sleeping figure before dropping to his knees to look under the bed.
Not finding anything he sat back up on his heels and continued staring at the bed skirt as if he expected it to move and reveal the noise-maker.
A hand suddenly gripped his hair tightly and Matlal found himself face down on the ground with a knee digging painfully into his back.
"I suggest that you hold steal or you'll find that decapitation with such a small object is very excruciatingly painful and I will feel no regret despite the tediousness of it." A voice hissed into his ears as what felt like a letter opener pressed against his neck.
Matlal's eyes flickered fearfully to the person looming over his shoulder and his eyes caught on a pair of emerald orbs that he had only ever seen on two people in his entire life.
"You're going to help me get out of here, alright?"
