Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter, wish I did
A/N: Hello my beautiful readers (that's not at all an awkward greeting) so I'm answering questions!
nickyx3: Harry went back to stay with the Order, he didn't stay with Voldy the whole week because that would've blown his cover and though Harry is bound to Voldy's orders and can't openly disobey him he can tell half-truths if he wants (hint, hint)
Anonymous: some of the more independent Death Eaters might consider that Harry could be a double-agent, but most of them are to simple-minded and eager to please their master to accuse Voldy's new favorite of treachery
Waterisjustcomingoutofthesky: I really can't say much about Draco without revealing some fact or another, so I'll be blunt. Draco is an arrogant idiot. He will always be an arrogant idiot. He is a sniveling little prat (but we love him anyway—as Hermione's punching bag at least)
ElementalMaster16: no, the Order doesn't know about Harry's night time activities (wow, I just realized how wrong that sounded) what I mean to say is that the Order doesn't know Harry's a Death Eater.
Oh God, what have I gotten myself into? Harry thought as he felt the hood pulled back to reveal his pale face. "I present to you Harry Potter, an esteemed member of our noble cause."
Harry Potter was met with shocked silence.
Harry watched expressions ranging from fury to confusion spread across the faces of the Death Eaters. He stared back blankly, not sure whether he should smile or say something. He was saved the decision as Lucius Malfoy stepped forward.
"Potter, my Lord? Are you sure he can be trusted?" he asked the question nervously, but there was no doubt that he didn't trust Harry.
Harry felt the long, skeletal hand rest on his shoulder; he forced himself not to flinch as his scar ached dully. The young wizard could nearly feel the glare Voldemort was treating Malfoy to. The man visibly paled and bowed his head; Harry couldn't help the small smirk that tugged at the edge of his lips.
"I understand that Harry and I have had our . . . differences in the past," Harry held back a snort, "but as I have already explained, Harry has seen sense and joined us. Though he is not keen on the ideas of killing and torture," Harry could hear the smirk in his voice, "he is none the less a Death Eater. I trust him," the last part was said more quietly, all traces of amusement gone. "And if you question my authority by disrespecting him, it is I that you will be answering to. And I will know, even if I am not told."
The threat hung in the air for a moment before Voldemort moved on to other matters, surprising everyone—including Harry—by ushering him into the vacant chair to Voldemort's immediate right. Harry let Voldemort's voice wash over him, not really listening to the conversation going on around him, lost in his own thoughts.
He hadn't thought Voldemort would defend him—to be frank, he'd thought he'd personally throw him to the wolves. Or in this case Death Eaters. He was brought back to reality by the mention of his name.
He raised his eyes and realized that everyone was staring at him. Voldemort was watching him expectantly and the Death Eaters suspiciously. He felt his face heat up as he realized Voldemort must have asked him something.
"Er . . . sorry?" Harry asked a little sheepishly. The Death Eaters looked scandalized, how dare he not pay attention? But their eyes went directly to their master as Voldemort chuckled.
"I understand politics can be rather boring, but do try to pay attention, Harry. I asked if you knew anything about the Order of the Phoenix's defenses?"
"I . . . ah, not much. Just that they're meant to keep people out, not in. And that Dumbledore's the secret keeper. And that muggles can't see it . . ." Harry said, blushing a deeper shade of pink. Voldemort sat appraising him narrowly.
Voldemort smirked. "Yes, Harry, I had figured that muggles couldn't see it." Harry felt he'd rather be facing a dragon at this point. Or in Snape's double potions class, he wasn't sure which was worse. "But none the less, some of what you've said has been useful. I had guessed that Dumbledore was the secret keeper, but apparently Snape couldn't be sure . . ." he sent a scorching glare toward Snape.
"I am sorry, my Lord. We cannot all be Dumbledore's golden boy." Snape answered curtly, earing glares from the rest of the Death Eaters. I'll bet he's wildly popular with this lot, Harry thought with a smirk.
"And if you are right to say that the defenses are one-sided, Harry, than perhaps there is a way in." Voldemort gave Harry a proud smile that chilled him worse than his glare. "If there are no other orders of business?"
"Master?"
Harry looked up to see an unfamiliar man raise his hand timidly.
"What is it, Yaxley?" Voldemort drawled.
"Well, my Lord, if you do not mind my asking, what exactly is the boy going to do? We already have a spy at Hogwarts and in the Order."
"That is true, Yaxley. However, as Severus so eloquently put it, Harry is Dumbledore's golden boy—or at least he believes him to be. He expects Harry to kill me someday," Voldemort smirked at this, "and to do that, even Dumbledore will have to reveal how he plans to achieve this. And I will be able to stop him."
"Enough of this talk of my demise, as it is no longer a point of concern," Voldemort gave Harry that proud smile again, "I think that concludes this meeting."
The Death Eaters waited for Voldemort to stand before getting to their feet. They shuffled out quickly. Harry stood but stayed in the conference room. He needed to side-along apparate back to 12 Grimmuald Place.
"Harry, Severus, a word." came Voldemort's cold voice. Harry turned back to regard Voldemort. Snape simply rose his eyebrow, he hadn't moved from his seat at the table. He stood and walked over, bowing his head to Voldemort and giving Harry a look of thinly veiled disdain.
"Severus, I would prefer it if Dumbledore was not aware of Harry's attendance of this meeting."
"Of course, my Lord." Harry noticed it was always my Lord, never Master with Snape.
"If he should find out, you know who I will hold responsible? The punishment would be severe." Voldemort smiled and Harry had to repress another shiver. He tried to keep his face an indifferent mask, though he doubted he did it as well as Snape. The greasy git has had years of practice, he thought with distaste.
"That will be all, Severus." A clear dismissal. "Wait for Harry outside."
Snape nodded and left. Harry was alone with Voldemort. Oh, brilliant.
"Something is troubling you, Harry." Voldemort stated bluntly. "Do not lie to me. This connection is not one-sided. You can feel my emotions, and with a bit of patience I can feel yours. Even when you are not feeling said emotion to the extreme."
There was no use in lying, Voldemort would know.
"This all started because of the prophecy. Dumbledore showed it to me." Harry mumbled.
"Did he now? Do you remember it?" Voldemort asked eagerly.
Harry shook his head. "Just bits and pieces. Neither can live while the other survives. That's the part that keeps bothering me."
"I can get the rest of the prophecy."
Harry looked up warily. "How?"
"It won't hurt you. I believe you know what a pensieve is?" Voldemort inquired.
"Yes."
Voldemort summoned a pensieve and ordered Harry over. Harry approached cautiously. "Just think about the prophecy." Voldemort told him.
Harry chewed his lip nervously but closed his eyes and thought about the prophecy. There were no muttered words of a spell, just the feel of the tip of Voldemort's wand against his temple. He was so preoccupied with that ironic fact that he felt nothing and jumped in surprise when Voldemort said amusedly, "You can open your eyes, Harry."
His memory swirled in the pensieve. It was odd, to say the least. Voldemort tapped the tip of his wand to the liquid in the pensieve and in a sense of déjà vu Harry watched the figure of Professor Trelawney rise and recite the prophecy.
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ..."
Voldemort watched, seemingly transfixed, as Trelawney sank back into the depths of the pensieve.
Voldemort chuckled darkly, "It appears that I could have been my own downfall."
Harry looked at him warily.
"But this is one prophecy that will not come to pass, am I correct, Harry?" Voldemort questioned.
"Yeah."
Voldemort smiled—well as close he could get to a smile without someone withering on the floor before him—and patted Harry's cheek condescendingly.
"You may go."
Harry nodded and with another stiff bow he left. Snape didn't speak to him outside the room, just took his arm and disapparated back to the Order HQ. He disarmed the defensive spells long enough to allow them both to slip inside and climbed the stairs to his room without a backward glance at Harry. The boy quietly climbed the stairs and back into the room he had been sleeping in, but was in fact Sirius'. He changed into his night clothes and slipped into bed, finally letting himself relax.
And only then did he allow the thought to drift to the front of his mind. The thing that had truly been bothering him during the meeting.
I already know how Dumbledore wants to kill Voldemort. . .
So . . . yeah. Harry's officially a death eater and Voldemort got a dressing down. Tell me what you think, I love reviews! Again, any questions you have, feel free to ask!
So then I'll update soon! Bye!