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Stars
Chapter 21: The Chained Prince
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Summary: What if Harry wasn't taken in by Petunia? What if, instead, he was taken in by another wizard who moved into number four after Petunia forced her family to move to avoid taking in the freak? Neutral!Harry
Beta: Cauchy! Big thanks to her for being my beta! This means less confusing words and spelling errors and brains flying around.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own character. Including the several lines I did take from the book.
A/N: Andromeda is actually the Chained Princess, but the Princess is in another fanfiction.
Wow, The Dark One Rising has a lot of questions! I hope I can answer them in time! Thanks for reviewing, as always!
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Harry was shocked at how easy capturing Peter was.
Snape had brought him back to the dorm, speaking in a low voice about his nightmares. Harry couldn't see Peter, but both of them knew that he was there. Harry climbed into bed, dropping the wards so Snape could tuck him in.
It was clear that Snape wasn't used to it, as his movements were awkward and unsure. Then he disillusioned himself and shut the door, making it seem like he had left, and Harry rolled over in bed, pretending he had forgotten to reset the wards.
Not ten minutes after, Peter transformed back into a human and Snape bound him tightly in ropes. Then he transfigured an unbreakable jar for insurance in case the rat attempted to escape by transforming and therefore breaking the jar, and dragged the beady eyed man to the Headmaster. If Pettigrew attempted to transform… the results would be very ugly. He sneered at the rat through the glass. This had been the man to lead Voldemort to the Potters. Most importantly, to Lily.
Sirius, back as a dog, padded next to Harry's bed after Peter was dragged away and lay on the ground, his ears twitching. He seemed pleased that the whole plan had worked. Or perhaps he was simply looking forward to being a free man very soon.
Snape shot him a glance as he had passed, a look that clearly said 'we will talk later'. Sirius figured that that was going to be the case—Snape probably had not wanted to bicker in front of Harry, a feeling that Sirius shared completely. So Sirius gave a nod and watched Snape vanish out the door. Sirius also suspected that Snape had given Remus a similar warning.
Remus was still in the Shrieking Shack, as Snape had pointed out that he had left his goblet of Wolfsbane on his desk without drinking it. While Sirius didn't particularly like Snape, he did agree that Snape had had the right idea when he had mentioned that Remus should stay behind rather than risk transforming in the night. Sirius was also sure that Snape wouldn't poison Remus or do any other underhanded tricks. Even as a Slytherin, Snape wasn't that kind of man.
It was later that night when Snape returned and beckoned Sirius over. Sirius padded over and followed Snape to his office, transforming back when the door was closed and sitting in a seat.
"I'll get to the point, Black," Snape said, looking at his ex-enemy. "I don't like you. I probably will never like you. But I can learn to tolerate you."
"Likewise, Sni—" Sirius paused, then corrected himself. "Snape."
Snape eyed Sirius, then offered a cup of tea. "The Ministry has come to collect Peter. You should be a free man by morning. Do you intend to stay by Rowan's side?"
"Yes," Sirius answered, looking at the tea but not drinking any. "As his pet dog, Grim. He will need me in the future."
Snape nodded and added, "How will you explain this to the boy's father?"
Sirius paused and slowly leaned back in the chair, thoughtful. "I was considering explaining it when he first arrives home. Harry can help me. But Cygnus doesn't seem like an unreasonable man. I'm sure he'll understand."
"Indeed," Snape agreed. "I suppose I should refrain from telling him then." He tapped his chin and sighed. "I will make a visit to Cygnus tomorrow morning to deliver the post. You are the boy's godfather, after all. Cygnus may have questions."
Sirius nodded and stood up. "Then I think I better get back to Harry now. Even without Peter, he's not safe all alone at night."
Snape eyed his ex-enemy and nodded slowly. He watched as Sirius Black opened the door, transformed and then slipped out to head back to the Slytherin dorms.
"Mostly from himself," Snape added in a soft tone.
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"Unhand our guest, Quirrell," hissed a voice. "I wish to see him clearly."
Cygnus staggered as the shock of apparition wore off. His brow furrowed as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. The man with the turban was backing away from him tentatively and stepped next to the chair that held a deformed baby. There was a fireplace next to the chair, crackling with magic, and an oak table not too far away with a goblet on it. The carpet was dirty and muddy; a stark contrast to the polished table and the chair the baby was sitting in. There was a door behind him that was closed, most likely locked, and a window on the far right.
Frowning, Cygnus took in his surroundings before his eyes settled on the baby. Red eyes peered at him, a sneer that looked out of place on a child's face blooming.
"Ah, yes. The Ward Master," the baby began. But that was as far as he got before Cygnus attacked.
His arm shot out, hitting Quirrell right in the face with the palm of his hand, eliciting a yell of pain. Quirrell staggered and Cygnus' leg shot out, sweeping behind the man's knees, and sending him crumpling to the ground.
Cygnus narrowly avoided a stunner as he swiped his hand towards the table and knocked the goblet to the baby. The baby hissed in surprise but abruptly screamed as he was picked up and thrown to the corner of the room, farthest from the door. His head hit the wall hard and the baby slumped, most likely knocked out.
Gripping the table firmly, Cygnus threw it towards the window. The glass shattered to thousands of pieces, but Cygnus was out of the window before the glass even hit the carpet.
"Too easy," Cygnus said, frowning a little as he bolted for the gate. He was sure that there was an anti-apparition set up so he didn't even bother with trying to apparate. Instead, he decided on making use of his physical skills. He was definitely stronger than any baby and the man with the turban looked like he hadn't seen sunlight in years.
He passed the gate and swiftly made his way through the marshy hills. He wasn't exactly sure where he was but that mattered little in getting away from the madman and the baby with an attitude.
The absolute ridiculousness of the situation finally caught up with Cygnus as he paused to take a few breaths, and he started to snicker. It developed into a full blown laughter as he leaned against a tree, the house a fair distance away now.
He had been abducted. He. Cygnus Rowan. A Ward Master.
The ludicrous idea of it! The absurdity!
The amusement turned into burning hot anger. Cygnus could feel the fury crawling in the pit of his stomach. The humiliation, the anger, and the amusement rolled inside him. It was an unusual feeling that left him feeling nauseous and lightheaded.
Cygnus hadn't felt this helpless since he saw his friend tear other people's throats out.
The unexpected stunner hit Cygnus in the back and collided against his ward. The wardist stumbled forward like he had been shoved and whirled around to face his attacker.
It was Quirrell. He had his wand out, pointed at Cygnus. Obviously, he had recovered from the blow and had apparated there.
Which meant that the anti-apparition spell was down.
Cygnus' eyes narrowed at Quirrell as he looked him over. He debated killing the man for what he did against Harry his first year in Hogwarts. But then, Quirrell started to talk.
"My master wishes to see you," he said. If he was angry about the attack, nothing on his face showed it.
"Tell your master that if he requests an audience with me, do it like a civil person and not like an animal," Cygnus snapped right back, not in the mood to hold a conversation with his abductor. "I am not inclined to talk when you've just kidnapped me, lost my groceries, and missed my dinner time."
"You will come back to the manor with me," Quirrell said, as if he hadn't heard a word Cygnus had just said.
"Silence, servant!" a voice hissed.
Quirrell fell silent as the baby stepped out from behind his cloak.
"It seems, you did not enjoy my hospitality," the baby said, looking up at Cygnus.
"It leaves much to be desired," Cygnus sniffed. "So I replied in kind. Did you enjoy the bruise I gave you?"
Truthfully, Cygnus was surprised that the baby had gotten up so quickly. He was sure that he would have at least knocked the baby out, but it appeared this wasn't a normal baby. Or the body had been reinforced with magic. Cygnus wasn't sure which and, right now, he really couldn't have cared less.
"Very well," the baby said after a pause. The grimace on its face told Cygnus that it wasn't pleased with the cheek but it wasn't going to argue the point. "Since you seem eager to leave, I'll get straight to the point. As you may have guessed, this is not my natural body."
Cygnus glanced at the baby and then snorted, having pieced together what the baby wanted.
"I require a body. Not just any body, but a body made for me," the baby continued. "This requires a ritual, which, I believe, you know of and you can perform."
"Your soul is unstable in that body because it does not belong to you," Cygnus clarified. "So your magic is weakened. Therefore, you want me to create a body for you to move into." He paused and stared at the baby. "Certainly, I know of several rituals for this act. But I find that I am rather unwilling to perform any of them for you." His eyes were cold as ice and his voice was as sharp as steel. "It seems you know more about Ward Masters then I first thought, Tom Riddle."
The baby hissed in fury, but his wand remained limp by his side. "My name is Lord Voldemort," it snarled out. "I have read that rituals performed by Ward Masters produce the best results. I require a Ward Master."
"And you must know that the Ward Master must be willing to perform the ritual, or else the results would be disastrous," Cygnus added on. "Which is why you haven't attempted imperio on me."
Voldemort's face contorted with anger, but he didn't reply.
"On the other hand, you also know that attempting to forcefully extract the information from my mind is also a dead end because if I deliberately mess with my own thoughts, that would result in a failed ritual. That and the fact that rituals are about precision. Even if you managed to drag a ritual out of me, nothing says that you will get every motion, every idea, every detail in correctly," Cygnus added. "And as I am the only Ward Master you know, you chose me. You ordered this loon to abduct me." He eyed the right hand of Quirrell and sneered a little. "Did he enjoy the cut I gave him?"
"You fight like a muggle," Voldemort sneered.
"No, Voldemort," Cygnus sneered right back. "I fight like a human. There is no shame in fighting for your own survival. Just as there is no such thing as fighting fairly in a situation where you are abducted on the street." His eyes narrowed. "Which is why neither of you will live to repeat that mistake."
Quirrell raised his wand to attack, but Cygnus flicked open his pocketknife and lunged forward, the blade flashing in the moon. It sank deeply into Quirrell's inner thigh as a curse soared over Cygnus' head and hit a tree. The tree burst into flame and Cygnus yanked out the knife roughly, staining the grass with a splatter of blood. Cygnus turned to the baby, but Quirrell had used the last of his strength to apparate himself and the baby away.
Cygnus lowered the blade as he looked at the splinched leg with the knife wound.
They were probably long gone by now. But the blood loss from a wound like that was most certainly going to kill him.
Magic wasn't going to cure that. The only way Quirrell would survive that wound was if he had apparated into St. Mungo's lobby. Which wasn't going to happen, considering that Quirrell had Voldemort to deal with.
But Cygnus would not count it as a kill until he could physically see the dead body. So he wiped off his knife and then walked away from the scene, not wanting to be implicated when the Ministry arrived to fix the damage.
He withdrew his wand, debated on apparating and decided against it. After all, there would be no need for him to draw attention to himself. If he could find a magical place, perhaps he could floo back home.
Except he blocked his own fireplace from being accessed on the network. Outside of his own wards, he could not alter them.
Cygnus gave a mental 'Shit. I'm stupid.' Then he slumped against a tree a few feet away and sighed, thinking about his options.
He could wait until the Ministry arrived and explain everything to them. Then travel via apparition or floo back to Diagon and catch the Knight Bus. Since he had no idea where he was and using more magic was out of the question, he decided on waiting for the Ministry to arrive.
Cygnus waited for an hour before convincing himself that the Ministry wasn't going to arrive. The fire had burned out, contained in the branches of the tree and scorching the leaves.
Perhaps he'd be able to find a non-magical village and they'd be able to direct him to London.
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"Rowan?"
Snape looked around in slight confusion. It was already around eleven in the evening, so Cygnus should have been at home. But the lights were off and the car was gone. Could the man have gone shopping this late?
Withdrawing his wand and flicking it towards the lights, Snape looked around the house. It was clean. Neat. Which meant that Cygnus was likely out. Snape entered the kitchen and prepared a cup of tea for himself and one for Cygnus. He would be back soon; Snape knew enough about Cygnus to confirm that.
An hour later, a fairly pissed off Cygnus entered the house. Snape's eyes widened and his jaw dropped as he stared at the disheveled appearance of his friend and the copper car in front.
Still, Cygnus spoke to the man in the vehicle, who seemed to be highly amused, before waving to him as the car drove away. Cygnus slid his key into his door and unlocked it.
He came face-to-face with Snape, holding a cup of tea.
Cygnus snorted and took the cup, closing the door behind him. "Thanks."
"May I ask what you were doing?" Snape asked, leading the way to the living room. He took in Cygnus' posture and his sigh as he sunk into a chair before sitting himself.
"Getting kidnapped."
Snape stared. "Huh?"
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Voldemort sat down in the room, a slow smirk crossing his face. He still had use for Quirrell so he had given him a replacement silver leg. The foolish slave had sniveled about his leg for a bit, but then had gotten to work locating books about rituals.
The brief eye contact with Cygnus Rowan had been enough. One look into Rowan's mind told him about a body restoring ritual involving bone of his father and flesh from his servant. Rowan had recognized him in his current state and knew what needed to be done to restore his body.
It would have been better if Rowan had agreed to perform the ritual. But he was Lord Voldemort! The idea that he couldn't perform a ritual was laughable! He had magic beyond the ordinary, power beyond imaginable. There was no way he would fail performing a simple ritual.
For now, he allowed the Ward Master to live. He needed him to ward his base when he arrived back to full power. He needed him for his army.
Cygnus Rowan would join him. In his current state, it was no surprise to Voldemort that he had refused. As insulting as it was, Voldemort was weak. But once he regained his body…
Then, Cygnus Rowan would join him. Or Voldemort would kill him.
But Voldemort really preferred to have Rowan join him. Killing such a valuable resource seemed like a waste. As a Ward Master, Rowan had to be knowledgeable in creating and breaking wards. Rituals and wards were the brothers in the magic field. Voldemort was sure that Rowan knew many different kinds of rituals and also could perform them.
Voldemort debated on sending Quirrell to Obliviate the man. It would be easy enough. Get a hair from a muggle and use polyjuice potion to infiltrate Rowan's personal space. Then shooting an Obliviate at close range would do the trick.
Except that Rowan had proven himself quite adept at defending himself. And if Quirrell died, then Voldemort would be stuck like this a lot longer than necessary. Voldemort glanced at Quirrell's silver leg and then mentally shook his head.
It was a fine idea, but not one that would be worth the risk right now.
Voldemort also played around with the idea of imperio-ing another wizard to erase Rowan's memory, but the fact was that it wouldn't be worth the effort. Breaking through the wards that Rowan had, no doubt, doubled or tripled on his person would be a hassle. And attacking Rowan on such a short notice afterward would make Rowan… reluctant to join him.
Besides, from what Quirrell had told him, Rowan was quite reclusive. He went out, but only to muggle places. The only things that Rowan was seen interacting with in public were goblins. He wasn't going to tell anyone of this meeting. Rowan had proved, quite early, that he did not like Albus Dumbledore.
Voldemort grinned, his red eyes narrowed. Rowan wouldn't get away. That much, Voldemort was certain. He placed his hand on his head, wincing when he touched the bruise.
After all, rituals that contained a Ward Master needed them as a willing participant, but warding did not.
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Cygnus frowned as he finished his story to Snape, who was looking equal parts concerned and alarmed. Snape swallowed and slowly leaned forward so he was resting his elbows on his knees.
"He wants you for his army," Snape said quietly. "That is why he did not kill you."
"That much, I figured," Cygnus responded. "I do not know how long I have before he actually manages to find a ritual to restore his body."
"Did you meet his gaze?" Snape asked, his expression stoic once more but his black eyes showing the shock he seemed to be feeling. Cygnus could see Snape's fingers trembling on his cup.
"Yes," Cygnus said simply.
Snape took a sharp inhale of breath. "Then he likely already knows," he replied. "He is a legilimens. He can search through your mind by eye contact."
Cygnus paused and tried to recall how he had been feeling at the time. "He wouldn't have needed to search very far, I fear, because one look at his body and I knew he was looking for a ritual to restore his original form."
"We're running out of time. What will you do?" Snape asked, looking at Cygnus very seriously. He seemed to have recollected himself because Cygnus found himself unable to read his friend.
There was a silence, but then Cygnus responded, "I don't know."
"You… don't know," Snape echoed. "Rowan, he wants you for his army. If you don't agree, he might kill you."
"It is not my life I worry for, Snape. It's my son's," Cygnus responded. "Voldemort is after him. He is insistent on killing him from what I heard from Albus. No matter where we run, where we hide, he will try to seek us out. It is a ridiculous and highly improbable idea that I lock Harry up in the house for eternity. And even if I do that, it does not guarantee his safety. My wards are strong, but they can be broken. It will not stand against hundreds of wizards."
"Have you considered moving back to Taiwan?" Snape asked, trying his best to ignore how Cygnus kept dropping the Dark Lord's name.
Cygnus gave a snort of bitter laughter. "They would be more willing to hand Harry over to Voldemort than fight him. Taiwan may be part of the Asian Ministry, but they have a very small population of wizards and an even smaller population of battle wizards. They might even point them to my house. Better me than them and risk getting the non-magical part of the government involved."
"That's cruel," Snape said, frowning. Cygnus ignored the flinch that Snape expressed at the use of Voldemort's name.
"Harry is not Taiwan heritage nor has Taiwanese blood. He may be my son, but he is adopted. He is magically mine, but biologically not. The magical Ministry will use this as an excuse not to do anything when Voldemort comes searching. They do not accept outsiders so easily," Cygnus replied.
"The fault of a secluded Ministry," Snape nodded. "I assume the muggle government in Taiwan holds more power?"
"Yes. The magical part is very difficult to find," Cygnus agreed.
"So you intend to be sitting ducks?" Snape asked, a little disbelieving.
"Do you have a better idea?" Cygnus asked. "Other than attempting to drop off the face of the Earth forever?"
Snape's mouth opened, but then closed as he couldn't think of anything to say. Cygnus sighed and nodded in response.
"That is very much how I feel in this case," Cygnus said. "There is a possibility of Voldemort taking Harry hostage in order to get me to cooperate."
Snape felt the color drain out of his face as Cygnus continued.
"I will die then," Cygnus said. "Because I know what Harry wants. He would not want me to ward for Voldemort, no matter the price." He paused, making Snape swallow past the lump in his throat.
Snape was torn between wanting to hear Cygnus out and stopping him and insisting that it wasn't going to happen. That Harry would be perfectly safe and sound in the wards, the countless people protecting him. Only past experience with the Dark Lord stopped him from speaking out. He knew that the Dark Lord would, if it benefited him, threaten the life of a child. Snape had seen it before. So he held his tongue and let Cygnus finish.
"That is why I had you power my wards," Cygnus said softly. "You will survive this, but I will likely not. By just being Harry's father, I am targeted. If war breaks out…" Cygnus stopped again and Snape fought down the urge to tell him to hurry up. "Harry's old enough to understand why I am targeted. But he will not accept that I am dead. Snape, can I ask you to…?"
"You won't die," Snape said with a determined finality as if daring Cygnus to argue. "I won't let you."
"Snape, be reasonable," Cygnus said calmly, looking a little exasperated.
Snape knew it was stupid. Utterly foolish to believe that there was absolutely no risk of Cygnus dying in the upcoming war. Cygnus was right. He was a target. The words he was spouting were on par with Gryffindor recklessness. But Snape couldn't help it. He had lost so much in the last war. His only friend, Lily Evans. His loyalties to the Dark Lord. His love. He couldn't lose the only other person he had honestly enjoyed the company of. They didn't seem to be friends, but were clearly more than simple acquaintances. Snape wasn't sure what to call his and Cygnus' meetings.
Regardless of what they were, the truth remained that Cygnus was someone who Snape trusted.
"Remember, it would break your son," Snape reminded.
"Yes," Cygnus agreed. "It would. But he needs to get past that. Death is an inevitable part of life, Snape. He needs to understand that. Wars are not fought without sacrifices. War is ugly by nature. There are no winners in wars. Just people who are left behind."
Snape remained silent, nodding slowly. He understood that, having fought the first Wizarding War.
"I know Albus wishes that I ward for him. I can see it whenever he approaches me," Cygnus said softly. "Perhaps I have, considering I ward indiscriminately for the goblins at Gringotts. But I will not join his war effort."
"Why not?" Snape demanded. "You'll have allies! We're working against a common enemy. Surely you can see the sense in that. Albus wants the Dark Lord defeated just as much as you do!"
"It will paint a very large target on my head, Snape. I do not intend to put myself in reckless danger with Harry as young as he is," Cygnus said.
"You already have a target on your head."
"Yes, and it will be even larger if I openly support Albus," Cygnus reasoned. "Even if I was only warding without actually doing any field missions. My life will be in jeopardy if those wards fall."
Snape snapped his mouth shut considering Cygnus' point.
"You could have someone else power the wards as you do for your home," he finally said after a couple minutes of thought.
"Wards are much stronger if the one who powered it is also the one who wrote them," Cygnus said. "I don't think Albus would settle for any less. He would want me to stay there, at the headquarters so I could continuously supply magic to the wards and keep me a virtual prisoner there. So, no, Snape. I will not join his army."
"Are you planning on starting your own?" Snape asked softly. "You'll need one for when the Dark Lord comes to find you."
Cygnus smiled. "If I did, would you join?"
"I've got a better idea," Snape said, putting his empty cup down.
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"Rick! You're late! Weren't we going to hit the pub?"
Rick Allen looked up, taking off his jacket and belt as he walked into the police station. His friend, Samuel Walter, was a large, bulky man with a lot of muscle but wore very baggy clothing to cover it. Sam's physique was mostly due to the many hours of training that was required as a member of the Special Firearm Command Squad. Rick had known Sam very early in his career, but Sam had moved on while Rick had stayed a member of the New Scotland Yard. They still got together often though, so Rick didn't mind too much.
"Yeah, yeah. I know. I decided to drive some bloke back home. He's the weirdest dude you've ever seen though. I thought you'd have gone without me, Sam."
Sam patted Rick's arm and grinned. "I would have, but you promised to show me where Rich's place is."
In contrast to Sam's bulky frame, Rick was slimmer. His shoulders were broad, but he wasn't as muscular as Sam. He made up for it for his intelligence and quick reflexes.
"Shit! Forgot! Sorry, dude," Rick said, looking a little embarrassed as he tucked his jacket under his arm. "You still up for it?"
"Tell me about that bloke you drove. What do you mean he's weird?" Sam said, watching Rick gather his things.
"Well… He claimed to be visiting a friend but then got lost," Rick started. "Donno who he could have possibly been visiting in Little Hangleton though. Adding to that, who goes out with only their wallet and house keys? No directions or anything. I asked him if he wanted me to drive him to his friend's place but he figured that his friend could just visit him so he wanted me to drive him back home. He lives in Surrey. How he got from Surrey to Hangleton without a car, I don't think I'll ever figure out. Oh! And check this! He had the whitest hair I've ever seen on a bloke!"
"White?" Sam repeated, looking at Rick strangely. "Dye, or something? Couldn't he have taken a taxi or something?"
"If so then he's very meticulous because his eyebrows were white too," Rick said. "Sure, but most taxis don't go that far. Taxis would also deposit him right at their doorstep with an address."
"How white are we talking? Old man white?" Sam asked, following Rick as Rick led the way back to his car.
"Nah. Like snow white-white," Rick answered. "Like, someone took really strong bleach and dumped it on his head. The guy was young, man. Couldn't be over thirty-five. Something about him was weird though, and it wasn't just his hair."
"What's his name?" Sam asked, hopping into the passenger seat next to Rick.
"Cygnus Rowan," Rick said, sliding into the driver's seat of the car.