Yo! Here's a longer chapter for you guys! Don't get used to it. If I had ended this one where I was originally planning, the next chapter would have been extremely short, so I decided to combine the two to make this one longer. Anyway, thank you to all readers so far!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters...
Marvolo woke abruptly the next morning, to the very irritating sound of Bellatrix and Ron arguing yet again. Groaning inwardly, he tuned them out and made to sit up, only to suddenly notice a strange weight against him. Looking over, he realized that Harry had fallen asleep against him. ...Oh.
No one had ever let their guard down while around him, and he himself hadn't really ever lowered his guard around others. And now, Harry... Well, while it felt a bit odd, he found that he sort of...liked it, which was just as odd, in his opinion.
Harry himself woke up mere moments later, while Marvolo simply examined him in silence. Well, this was pretty embarrassing. And confusing, because what in the world was he even feeling right now? He sighed as he glanced around the room, pushing these strange feelings away. Unbeknownst to him, Marvolo was doing the exact same thing.
They had far more important things to do than worry about potential romances right now...
The group who could cook made breakfast, and after eating, they all once again split up in small groups to check the manor for any potential exits. They found none. Any attempts to destroy windows or walls didn't seem to work either, which was really quite aggravating. They were still trapped inside this manor.
They still weren't sure if this was something that had been planned ahead of time, but it seemed pretty likely, especially considering the amount of food and other provisions and so on. It appeared, to them, that their host was the only person living in the manor, and surely he wouldn't need all of this, right? It just wouldn't be practical.
To them, it made more sense that all this extra stuff had been brought in because of their appearance. Of course, the Liquid Imperius soaking their letters all but solidified this happening on purpose. Agh, when they found that son of a bitch again, he wasn't going to be getting away from them!
Still, now that they were thinking about their host, they once more found themselves wondering where he had vanished off to. They had been here for over a day now, having arrived on the evening of the thirtieth, and today being the morning of the first, and they hadn't seen their host since that first evening.
They were under the impression that he had been the one to kill Luna, but then they had found Narcissa's fingerprints on the offending wand, which had contradicted that. And now Narcissa was dead too, but the person who had done it had red hair and had left no fingerprints at all.
While it was true they had been suspecting Tonks and the Weasleys, Ron in particular, since he had no alibi of any kind, couldn't it have just been possible that someone, like their host, had simply glamoured themselves? Hell, couldn't it be possible that Bellatrix had simply lied? Maybe they just wanted to frame a Weasley the same way Narcissa had been framed earlier.
But why?
Despite the danger, and knowing he probably really shouldn't be doing this, Harry managed to sneak off on his own, desperately needing some time alone. There were just too many people here, too much going on. That was one thing he had actually liked about his cupboard-it got him away from people. ...Maybe that wasn't a good thing though.
He wandered through the manor on his own, wand in hand, no actual destination in mind. He was lost in his thoughts-thinking about everything that had been going on. Why was all this happening? Who was doing this? What was the point? Were they not going to be satisfied until they really did restart the war? How bold did they have to be to do this to the Dark Lord and Boy-Who-Lived? To the Minister of Magic? To two Aurors? To Ministry workers? To professors? To them all?
He thought about his bakery, hoping his three workers were handling things well while he was gone. He really only trusted one of them to take proper charge, and found himself hoping the bakery had just remained closed during this time. It was a possibility, since neither he nor Narcissa had shown their faces recently, which was definitely something that should be considered odd. Honestly, he just hoped the place hadn't been blown up. He used a lot of Muggle appliances when he baked.
Thinking about the bakery then led Harry to think about Narcissa and Luna as well. Why them? What had they done wrong? He was really leaning towards them being victims of chance-wrong place, wrong time, because both of them hadn't even been very active members of the war. Sure they had participated and fought for their respective sides, but there were so many more currently locked up in this manor who had been, and still were bigger threats than the two women.
He thought about Severus and Hermione, and this strange relationship that was very obviously building between the two. They spent more time with one another than they did with their friends, and always seemed to be in deep discussion. It was odd to see them getting along so well, but at the same time, it wasn't. Hermione had always been the smart, mature one, so Harry had no doubt she had surprised Severus by being able to keep up with him in conversations. She was a wonder, that Hermione.
He thought about how well Theodore and Neville seemed to be getting along, especially because the two of them were the quiet ones who generally kept to themselves. Harry had seen Neville open up, and though he didn't know Theodore quite as well, he was pleased to see him engaged for once.
He thought about how much Lucius, Remus, and Bill seemed to be talking. That was an odd combination too, mainly just because of Lucius, but then again, Remus and Bill always were the calm and mature type, and were quite open minded. If any Light members would get along so well with the Dark Lord's right hand man and current Minister of Magic, it would certainly be those two.
He thought about Ginny and Blaise's budding relationship, wondering why he wasn't at all bothered, and thought about the Weasley twins conspiring with the Lestrange brothers too.
And he thought about Marvolo, still unsure of what exactly he felt around and about the man, unsure of why. They hadn't had any contact over the five years after the signing of the peace treaty. Marvolo had always sent someone to him if he needed something that couldn't be discussed in a letter, but really, they had both been living their own lives and hadn't needed anything from one another.
Harry hadn't been bothered when he had seen Marvolo here at the manor that first night, just surprised, and even a little pleased, and had found himself enjoying their conversations, even with everything they had been going on here. Marvolo hardly resembled the Voldemort Harry had fought against so often, and not just physically. The man treated him kindly and with respect, and Harry returned the sentiment, treating him in kind.
But Marvolo was just so confusing, and Harry-
-stopped abruptly as he began to feel something rather odd. His scar had just started to hurt, burning as it used to when he had been younger. He stood frozen in place, a hand over the lightning bolt shaped scar, his brow furrowed, and his emerald eyes narrowed in thought.
"What the hell?" he muttered in confusion and alarm. This hadn't happened for years now! His scar hadn't even twinged all this time when he had been with Marvolo, not even when he had been sleeping, er, against him the previous night. So why was it hurting now? Why had it begun hurting so suddenly?
He rubbed at it gently, wincing slightly at the burn. There was no emotion in the pain like before. There was no anger, or frustration, or even happiness. There was nothing except the pain, and that only served to confuse him more, because it had been even longer since his scar had hurt without Voldemort-without Marvolo either being near or feeling a strong emotion.
His frown deepened. Actually, now that he thought about it, his scar hadn't hurt since the battle that had taken place during his sixth year-the last major battle before the peace treaty had been proposed and signed. So why, after five years, was it hurting now?
Needing to get to the bottom of this, and obviously connecting the pain to Marvolo, Harry lowered his hand, tightened his grip on his wand, and began to backtrack, heading right back to the large room everyone else was in. While most hadn't noticed he had left, the Dark Lord had, and was very clearly upset with him for leaving on his own without telling anyone.
Harry didn't care about that right now though. He walked over to the other man, sank down on the couch beside him, and quietly, and quickly, explained what had happened. Needless to say, Marvolo was quite confused.
Crimson eyes scanned over Harry's forehead. The scar looked a little inflamed, but fine besides that. "Does it still pain you?" he asked quietly. It was best if no one else heard about this yet. A fair few of them would worry, and they didn't need that just yet.
The younger man shook his head. "No, not anymore. Odd, isn't it, since I'm sitting literally right beside you?"
Marvolo thought the same and, somewhat cautiously, raised his arm and gently placed his hand on Harry's head, palm touching the scar directly. It felt warm, almost feverishly so, but there was no distress on Harry's face, not even in his eyes.
"It still doesn't hurt," Harry stated. "Not even now, while you're touching me."
So why in the world had it been hurting earlier?
Confused about the behaviour, so to speak, of Harry's scar, Marvolo and Harry both made their way to the spot where the younger man claimed he had been when he noticed his scar had begun to hurt. They knew they were there when it happened again, Harry's scar beginning to burn all over again.
Well, this was weird. It was clear the pain had nothing to do with the Dark Lord either time, which made no sense at all to either of them, because hadn't that been the whole purpose to the injury this entire time?
They tried searching the area, which was a small hallway with three or four small rooms, but they weren't able to find anything odd or out of place. But Harry's scar was still hurting him, and he kept reaching up to rub at it, wincing in pain. With a groan, he leaned back against he nearest wall, while Marvolo stood in front of him, a large hand on his shoulder, concerned with how pale he had gotten.
He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off before he could even begin, when what was clearly a Patronus* bounded down the hall towards them, brightening the entire area up. It was a doe, and spoke in Severus' deep voice. They had just discovered another body.
Alarmed and concerned, Harry and Marvolo followed the doe as it led them to Severus, who was standing outside what appeared to be a bedroom, an arm around a pale looking Hermione who had her face buried in the man's chest, trembling slightly. Severus eyed the two of them grimly, but didn't say a word, and merely nodded towards the room, bringing his other arm around the young woman against him. The other two stepped forward in unison to look inside.
There was definitely a body in there. It was lain on the bed, the once crisp white sheets now stained liberally with dried blood. The body itself was that of a man-an elderly, well dressed man with dark, greying hair, and olive toned skin. He was most certainly dead, and was completely and utterly unfamiliar to the rest of them.
"...Who the hell is this?"
*I was about to say 'And then a Persona approached them'... I think I've been gaming too much recently. Anyway, I'm still not sure how long this fic will be-I'm planning out chapter sixteen, which was chapter seventeen before I combined two chapters. But it doesn't seem like it should be much longer, so I won't be surprised if it doesn't even make it to twenty chapters. Looking forward to reviews! Laterz!
