Shades of Grey
By: Orii15
Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own Harry Potter…….not now either……….or now……..or now…….
A/N: YAY! Udapted! (Finally) I know, I know, I'm such a bad kid whyfor I not update for so long? The answer is of course that it's all Colorguard's fault. -P So yell at them. But I am sorry this took so long to get up, I've already got half of the next chapter written so you can expect an update ASAP after this chapter is posted.
OH!! And I want to say Fankoo to my Beta/Sister TigerLily21 aka Anne the Punctuation Queen. (hugs) You made my story……um…..comma friendly!
Again, on Wednesday I was distracted and jumpy. Hermione kept watching me out of the corner of her eye in Arithmancy but I wasn't sitting close enough to her to have a conversation. I couldn't think straight, the things that had happened the night before seemed hazy, like some strange dream. Only I knew my subconscious wasn't that creative. I was trying again to figure out a time to talk to Malfoy and what I was going to say to him. I was so out of it I didn't even hear Ginny talking to me at lunch at first.
"Tim?! You alive in there?" A hand waved back and forth in front of my eyes.
"I—What? Sorry, Ginny. Sorry."
She looked at me curiously. "Where do you go anyways, when you space out like that?"
I shrugged avoiding the question. "If I told you," I said, "then you'd know."
Ginny laughed and then she said, "You know what would be cute?"
"What?" I said skeptically.
"If you and Luna got together."
"What?!" I said, honestly shocked. "What? Where did that come from?" Me and Luna indeed. I should have felt we were entering dangerous waters when Ginny had started talking about "cute".
"You're both so spacey and stuff," said Ginny. "Anyways, you guys get along, don't you? You talk in Herbology all the time."
"That's—Ginny, you don't make any sense at all. Luna and I are friends."
It felt strange to be getting into this conversation now, all this stuff I was sure that typical teenagers talked about all the time.
Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Just friends, huh?" she said
I sighed. "Come on, Ginny, you know me and Luna too well to think that we'd ever—I mean it's just—have you even talked to Luna about this?"
"Yes," said Ginny. "She likes you. She says she thinks you're funny."
"Yeah, funny looking," I said, more than happy to be succinct if it meant I could at least speak coherently.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Fine, be that way," she said.
Herbology felt more awkward than usual that day thanks to Ginny who insisted on watching us conspicuously from over her plant.
"I get the strangest feeling we're being watched," I told Luna pointedly, though I was carefully avoiding looking in Ginny's direction.
"Could be a Korzulp," said Luna conspiratorially. "They're invisible, but they have seven eyes and they fly. They might be watching. Do you think we should shoo them away?"
I smiled. Whatever I told Ginny I really did like Luna. She was easy to talk to. "I dunno." I said "Do Korzulps bite? I mean I'd still shoo them even so if we had to, but are they venomous?"
"No," said Luna. "They don't have mouths." She smiled at me "You really should read the Quibbler more; I think you have Korzulps mixed up with Krangdorbs."
"Should I put in a subscription?" I asked. "I'd be happy to read anything that's not printing rubbish about the Malfoys like the Daily Prophet has been."
"I can get you one if you give me the money," said Luna. "It's two sickles a month but only a galleon for a whole year and a half. It's a bargain." She grinned.
I laughed. "Sounds great," I said.
"Yes," said Luna. "Especially because our circulation has been dropping very low lately. People are very narrow-minded these days."
"Yea, I've noticed that." I said
"What was that the Prophet printed about you?" said Luna "It didn't sound like it was true."
"Parts of it were," I said. "Only, the Malfoys have never been charitable in their lives. So all that rubbish about them adopting me out of the pure goodness of their hearts was just that. I guess it just helps their image that I really am the mentally unstable son of a convicted murderer."
"You're not," said Luna.
"No, actually—"I began, but Luna interrupted me.
"You're not," she said again. "Your father's innocent. The Quibbler did an article about it. And you're not mentally unstable."
"Luna, the stuff they said—"
Again, she interrupted me "You're not mentally unstable," she said. "You're the only one who listens to me about Korzulps and the Quibbler and things like that. And you don't call me 'Loony'."
"Alright," I said, "I can't argue when you put it like that." I glanced over my shoulder at Ginny who was carefully staring down at her plant. She was grinning too widely to not have been eavesdropping. "Ginny would be ecstatic," I muttered flatly.
"What?" asked Luna.
I shook my head. "Nothing. Look, we'd better get something done with this plant before long, or we'll get into trouble."
Despite Ginny watching us, there was a kind of contentment that filled me up after Herbology was over. It lasted me for the rest of the day, for which I was grateful. And then it was Thursday and the good feelings were gone.
I deliberately got to Potions class early, deciding that if I had to talk to Malfoy I'd better just get it over with. I caught his eyes as he came in and he smirked, then murmured something to his cronies and came over to sit next to me. I hated him. The very thought and the overwhelming feeling that accompanied it were surprisingly strong, but it was true. I'd always hated Malfoy. Somehow that and the knowledge that I would really be working for the Order over the summer made it easier to do what I was about to do.
"I have to talk to you." I said ignoring the inquiring glances of Harry, Ron and Hermione from across the room.
He smirked at me "I thought so. I did tell you, didn't I, Black? Less than a month and you'd be back begging me for another chance."
"Look," I said, my voice a low angry hiss, "I hate myself for coming back and talking to you, if I didn't know I wasn't doing this for myself, I'd never do it."
He laughed. "You're like Potter Jr. or something. Always the martyr no matter what." He smirked. "If it makes you feel better, Black, this would have happened sooner or later, this summer, you know."
My hand curled into a fist but I couldn't think of anything intelligent to say to that. Instead, I called Malfoy several names that would have gotten me into trouble had Professor Snape heard them.
He laughed again and let me keep swearing until I ran out of words. It didn't matter. Words like that lose what little sting they had when they are your only weapons against someone more powerful. Malfoy knew that. And I hated him. I tried not to look at him for the remainder of the class because it was almost physically painful to see that smirk on his face. He knew he had some power over me, admittedly, it was not much, but making me miserable was all he needed really.
As we were leaving the class Malfoy insisted upon walking beside me amiably, keeping up even when I walked so fast I was almost running. He was about six inches taller than I was and had a much longer stride. I wished I could run, but that would seem to Malfoy as if I was running away and it would make him happy. I didn't want to give him anything more than necessary to hoard against me over the summer.
He smirked at me as we finally approached the Great Hall. "You shouldn't be so depressed, Black," he noted lightly. "You'll do well this summer, I'm sure." His voice lowered so only I could hear him. "I'm sure you'll make an excellent Death Eater."
Leaving me with that unthinkable fact, he strutted on into the Great hall. And I wondered how on earth I was going to survive the holidays—or the rest of the school year for that matter.
That night I went to Snape's office as usual, not sure what to expect after the events that had taken place at my last Occlumency lesson with him.
"Evening, Black," said Snape as I entered the room. He was cold as ever. "You accepted Malfoy's offer in Potions class today." It wasn't a question.
"Yessir." I said anyways.
"What did he say?"
"He-he said lots of things, sir." I said, not willing to relate all the events of that afternoon to Snape.
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Black? Would you care to clarify that statement?"
"Um, sorry, sir," I muttered. "He said that I would have come to him sooner or later over the summer and he told me—he told me he thought I'd be a good Death Eater."
Snape scoffed at this. "Malfoy obviously knows nothing about being in the service of the Dark Lord than whatever fanciful suppositions his feeble mind has fabricated after seeing his father come home in that damned mask and cloak. Truth be told, Black, at the moment you are exactly opposite of the character the Dark Lord looks for in his servants."
I waited for him to say more, but he didn't. "Is that bad, sir?" I asked finally. "That I don't want to be Death Eater?"
"We have not asked you to be a Death Eater, Black," said Snape. "We have asked you to take advantage of a situation from which the only results we could foresee were either your death at the hands of a Death Eater or your becoming a Death Eater and to use it to the advantage of the Order and of everyone. And this brings me to our lesson tonight."
"We're not doing Occlumency tonight?"
"Do not interrupt me, Black. And no, you will continue to practice Occlumency on your own and on Tuesday nights with me. Some time in the near future, I may even attempt to teach you proper Legilimency, since you are so well suited to it. For now however, and for every Thursday night in future, when you come here I will be teaching you two things: how to be a convincing Death Eater and how to remain useful to the Order while you are in the service of the Dark Lord. We will start with basic defensive spells you may need—normally this would be unnecessary but Merlin only knows what use you've made of that Ministry-processed hippogriff dung Umbridge has been teaching you—and we'll move on from there. Can you handle that, Black?"
I frowned and bit my lip. I'd never heard Snape talk like this and it scared me.
"Did you hear me, Black?"
"Yessir." My voice was quiet but to my relief it was not trembling with fear.
"Do you understand what I said, Black?"
"Yessir."
"Good. I have placed a spell on this room so that no sound will leave it. Now, let's begin. What have you learned about Wizard Duels?"
By the time the lesson was over I wasn't sure if I should feel reassured that I was learning the things I needed to learn or if the nature of the lessons and their teacher should have resulted in my being more terrified than ever. Snape stopped me as I was about to leave the room.
"Oh, Black" he said
"Yessir?" I was suppressing a yawn. I didn't want to spend any more time in his office than was absolutely necessary.
"The Headmaster has asked me to inform you that he'd like you to attend a part of an Order meeting this coming Saturday so that he can explain the situation to the other Order members and so that you and your, ah, father," he said the word with a certain skepticism that reminded me of how much he loathed Sirius, "can safely discuss your induction to the Order."
I frowned. "How will I get there, sir?"
"The Headmaster will prepare you a Portkey. He will expect you in his office at three o'clock tomorrow afternoon."
"Okay," I said. "Thank you, sir."
I left his office. I thought it was strange that Dumbledore would go to the trouble of sending me to an actual Order meeting. I wondered how important what I was going to be doing was anyways. It was just for convenience's sake wasn't it? It had never come into my head to think that I might actually be important or that it would matter to anyone but me what side I was on.
I was close to Gryffindor Tower but I couldn't sleep yet. Not when my mind was so full. I found a hidden spot in a space behind a suit of armor. I didn't care if Filch or anyone caught me. But in any case I was reasonably sure that I would be hard to see to the average passerby in the corridor. I'd always had a knack for finding small spaces like that. SCL can make a person want to hide from the world at the best of times.
I wondered how heavily my SCL weighed into Voldemort's wanting me on his side. What about having SCL had convinced everyone that I had such a potential for spying? I knew it could be controlled with some difficulty and lots of training. But Snape had said I would do well at learning proper Legilimency because of my natural acclimation for it. And hadn't I done something strange with Legilimency the other night?
But that didn't seem reason enough to make the Dark Lord take notice of me. There were other wizards who were strong Legilimens and they were trained already and knew how to use it all the way. I could barely control my SCL yet, and aside from the way my mind naturally tuned itself to the thoughts of everyone around me I didn't know very much about real Legilimency or Occlumency. What else did I have that he could have wanted?
I wasn't naturally suited by personality to be a spy. I had always been anti-social and people tended to avoid me on instinct. I assumed if I had been born for a double life I would be at least a little more charismatic. But I'd always been an outcast partly because I avoided people on purpose and partly because they usually avoided me after finding out who my father was.
A strange thought struck me. Almost the entire Wizarding world thought that Sirius was working as a Death Eater, when in fact he was actually Dumbledore's man. The Order knew that, but Peter Pettigrew—the man who was truly responsible for the crimes that had gotten my father incarcerated—was working for the Dark Lord, which meant that the other side knew that Sirius was for the Order. And they knew that I was his son.
Was I crazy to think that my heritage could have influenced the Dark Lord asking Malfoy to try and get me to become a Death Eater? I thought back to how I'd been on the train ride to Hogwarts, when Malfoy had first confronted me. Introverted, still struggling to keep my SCL under control, with mixed feelings about Sirius and Harry, Ron and Hermione. I'd changed since school started, but not that much. And hadn't I been easy to convince? Hadn't it been as simple as one murder to bring me around to the Dark Side?
Was that it? Was it nothing but the extra hurt it would cause the Order to lure away the children of its members to fight against their parents? But then why was I the only one? No one had asked Ginny or Ron to become a Death Eater.
No, that couldn't be it. I sat thinking behind the statue until I felt like I was going to drift off to sleep right there if I didn't move soon. I stood up and went back to Gryffindor Tower. I was lucky to find the Fat Lady awake, but irritable. I muttered the password and climbed through the Portrait Hole after she had grudgingly swung open. I kept trying to think of some other quality I possessed that would justify the interest the Dark Lord had in me. But I couldn't. I was thoroughly un-extraordinary.
And this—as though he were the mind reader and not I—Is the essence of what Sage proceeded to grumble at me when I came into the dorm at a quarter past midnight.
"Sorry to wake you." I said. Hurriedly changing into my pajamas.
"What in Merlin's name were you doing out this late?" he snapped
"Thinking." I said
Sage snorted at me "You would." He said, rolling over so he didn't have to look at me anymore.
A/N: Okay, that's about it. More on Sage will be in next Chapter plus a big gooey moment between Sirius and Tim. Please review, I'd like to know how I'm doing. Also, most of Tim's story will be taking place during the sixth book and the summer after the fifth book. Tim will be an official Death Eater before you know it. (Only not really Official per se because he's a spy but……whatever)
Love you guys.
--Orii