Chapter Eight

Surprisingly, the last person in Hogwarts to find out about the incident between Harry and James Potter was Daniel Potter himself. He was discharged from the hospital wing almost a week after his poisoning and his friends and father had not felt it a good idea to discuss it with him.

So on Friday morning, relishing his freedom from the overbearing Madam Pomfrey, Daniel wolfed down his breakfast bacon with relative tranquillity. He had been poisoned, but he'd survived, and the only thing really bothering him was his constantly-tweaking scar.

People kept giving him odd looks, but that was understandable. When Daniel noticed Ron staring at the Slytherin table, not at Malfoy but his twin brother, and then saw quite a few other people doing the same thing, he grew apprehensive.

'Ron, why are you watching Harry?'

'What?' Ron gave a start, and tried to stop Daniel inquiring further by gulping down half his porridge.

'Ron, tell me.'

'You know your brother loves curses and the, um, Dark Arts? Well everyone thinks that he's a Death Eater.'

Daniel gave him a stupefied look and Hermione, catching the tail end of the conversation, cut in.

'Ron, you're about as tactful as a slap in the face. Honestly, I'll tell Daniel what happened.'

Hermione quickly explained what had happened outside the Hospital Wing. 'Everyone assumes Harry has become a Death Eater, because of your dad's reaction. But I think there must be another explanation. He wouldn't do something like that, would he, and even though Ron says he's talking to Draco Malfoy more often -.'

'He's chummy with Malfoy now?' Daniel had sat up in his chair and was frowning furiously. Hermione was wrong. After hearing what had happened, Daniel knew there could be only one explanation. He and his dad had discussed Harry before, and James had said that if Harry ever did something this drastic, he wouldn't think of him as a son any more.

His own brother, his twin brother, was a Death Eater. Despite the pureblood prejudice and hate and killing that Voldemort stood for , despite the fact – and this affected Daniel more than any other aspect of it – that Voldemort had tried to murder him, Daniel, twice. And Harry was his twin brother for crying out loud.

'I'll kill him,' he said. Still reeling from the feeling of shock and betrayal, he got up, crossed the Hall, just barely restrained himself from cursing his brother, and headed up to Sirius' office. He had to talk to his father.

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Harry arrived at Grimmauld Place at nine o'clock Friday night. The past week had not been good for him. Aside from the jeers and dirty looks from Gryffindors, he'd also had to endure an increase in attention from his own house. This was unwanted, mainly because it reminded Harry of what Dumbledore had said to him. I'm not doing this for recognition, he told himself, I'm not like my brother, I don't want respect and awe. I'm doing this because my conscience tells me to. But he wasn't sure whether he believed himself.

The door to 12 Grimmauld Place swung abruptly open and Regulus appeared. The Black ancestral house was a cheery place. As soon as Harry crossed the threshold he awoke a portrait of an old woman. She seemed to recognise him and started screaming curses about her 'traitor son' and the 'filthy Potters'. Harry supposed she'd met his father – this was the Black house after all and by extension where Sirius had grown up, however weird that seemed.

Regulus, ignoring the portrait, ushered him down a hallway and into a neat, if a little drab, parlour. There were several pictures on the wall, one was of a thick, worm-like snake which had curled itself round someone's house, the other was of a giant wicker man, hollow and on fire, and filled with squirming people whose cries were drowned out by the flickering of flames.

Regulus offered Harry a slice of plum cake, then some overbrewed tea. Harry had not seen him without his mask, but he looked like a typical Black, with a handsome face, clear brown eyes, and a mane of dark hair.

'You look like Sirius.'

Regulus scowled like he'd heard that before and was sick of it. 'How is my benighted brother, by the way?'

Harry shrugged.

'You look like James. Anyway, let's not waste time.'

He waved his wand and the doors of the room shut firmly. He probably cast a heavy silencing spell too, judging by the slight tang to the air.

'I would not have asked you here if I didn't trust you. So, you want to know why?'

Harry nodded.

'I was very interested in the Dark Arts and immortality. That's why I joined. I must have been about your age. Anyway, by some determination, and a lot of pure luck, I discovered his secret.

Through my own research I'd come across Horcruxes. I had no idea what they were, but I suspected that they were extremely important, and took a chance one night as he looked into my mind. I let him see the word 'Horcrux' and all my memories of my research into it. However, it worked much better than I anticipated. He lost control, if for one split-second only, and I saw enough of his thoughts and memories to lead me on the right track.'

Regulus explained to a curious and slightly disgusted Harry what Horcruxes were, what his research had involved, and how Horcruxes were connected to the Dark Lord. Harry felt he comprehended for the first time just why Voldemort was titled the Dark Lord. The Horcruxes weren't just Dark, they were evil. Nonetheless, Harry couldn't help but understand Voldemort's motives – deathlessness was appealing.

'Unfortunately, after that, the Dark Lord kept me very close indeed. He didn't trust me, because of what I saw. I was unable to look for the Horcruxes and worse, when he fell, I was forced to go on the run.'

He smiled in a small, cold way.

'I have been a fugitive for most of your life, Harry, and nearly half of mine. However, in these past years I have been able to start my research again. He is too preoccupied with Daniel Potter and his own rising power to regard a simple servant as a great threat again. The Ministry likewise does not have the time to pursue yet another loose Death Eater like me. Now is the time to act.'

He and Harry talked for a long while on what they would do. Regulus was almost certain the Horcruxes would have something to do with his past, possibly Hogwarts, and that there would be seven of them. The Dark Lord liked to do things properly, magic most of all. Regulus was on the trail of a ring and Harry would do his best to discover what and where another Horcrux was.

'I know about his past.' Regulus paused. 'Some of it. It is a great secret. You have no doubt heard the tales about him: Slytherin's heir, successful and powerful in his school years, the most talented wizard of his generation.'

Harry nodded; it was standard fare in Slytherin House.

'You probably have not heard that he is a Half-blood. He killed his father. You probably do not know this man was a Muggle. I presume you would not have heard that his name was not always Lord Voldemort, or even just Voldemort. It was originally Tom Riddle. I have some of his memories – flashes – from that night when he slipped. He looked a little bit like you. Normal. I would watch out Harry. If he sees anything of himself in you, he will mistrust you. You're a Half-blood, your mother is dead, and you're in Slytherin, so this is most likely.'

Harry mumbled that he'd think about it, but he privately disagreed that Voldemort would take any trouble over him. It was Daniel he was after.

Without warning a fire sprung up in the room's fireplace. Regulus brushed a hand across his face in annoyance. 'Another guest.' He motioned for Harry to stand directly beside the fireplace where he would not be visible to the visitor.

The flames turned green, and a woman's face appeared in their depths. She was quite good-looking, but her cheeks were hollow, and her eyes hooded. Harry had never seen her before, but he guessed who she was.

'There aren't any curses on the hearth for me to step into?' she said.

'Well, as a matter of fact, there are. You better get out while I remove them.'

She vanished, as did the fire. 'My cousin,' Regulus explained. 'You better go, before she returns.'

'Okay. Look, I'll meet you if I've got any news,' Harry said. He turned and hurried out of the room and down the hallway. The house's heavy door glided obediently open. Harry stepped past the threshold, then whirled into thin air, Disapparating back to the Forbidden Forest where he'd come from.

A second later, a dark figure, who had been lurking a little way down the street, detached himself from the shadows and likewise Apparated away. Perhaps twenty minutes later he was standing opposite a blonde man, who looked like a somewhat older and more cynical version of himself.

'What is it Draco?'

'I was watching Potter. He left the castle like you said.'

Malfoy senior gave him a triumphant look.

'But Father, I don't think he's a traitor to Voldemort. He went to Regulus Black's house.'

Lucius Malfoy's eyebrows sprung up, but he didn't appear discomposed as he said, 'That is very interesting. It seems Potter's actions are more calculated than I gave him credit for.'

'What do you mean?' said Draco, who could not for the life of him understand why Harry had gone to see Regulus.

'It's obvious, Draco. They seek an alliance. They are scheming to gain his favour, either alone or,' (his eyes narrowed), 'with Crouch's lot.'

'Are you convinced th– ?'

'Inextricably so. Why else would they meet without informing any of us? Bellatrix sees Regulus regularly; he should have told her. But he didn't. He and Potter are planning something on their own. We cannot allow them or anyone else to snatch influence from us. Draco, you watch Potter. I will be keeping an eye on Regulus.'

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