1.
In a small village in England, that was nested between two steep hills, lied Riddle house. It stood on a one of the hills, overlooking whole village, abandoned for decades and time took its tool; some windows were missing, some boarded, part of its roof were collapsed and weeds climbed higher and higher. What was once the best, largest and grandest building for miles around, now was damp, vain and haunted.
Today, however, its empty and lifeless walls were lit to life once again, as fire illuminated them and two figures chatted. Both had high voices, but where one was commanding and confident, other was weak, often stuttering and stumbling over the words.
"What was that, Wormtail? Another boy?" demanded first voice, coming from armchair that was close to the fire and belonging to shadowy figure that occupied it. It was a strange figure; like a baby wrapped in a too many blankets.
"Why haven't you mentioned him sooner?" he wanted to know, threat clear in the voice.
"I, my apologies, master, I thought him irrelevant," other man weakly responded, who was also known as Wormtail. His master remained silent for few seconds.
"You thought him irrelevant," he said mockingly, "Where exactly, in your grand plan of things, this boy comes as irrelevant?"
"I remember specifically telling you to recall every minor detail from that night. Do tell if I am wrong?" he hissed, his voice impatient and annoyed.
"N-No, master, he must've slipped my mind," Wormtail tried, but was interrupted.
"Do not LIE to me Wormtail, for Lord Voldemort knows. He always knows," he trailed, revealing his identity, "Why have you omitted his existence to me?"
"I, It's just," he tried, but dark red spell hit him in the process and he fell down on his knees, screaming and pleading.
"Pathetic. You were always pathetic, weren't you? Nevertheless, you will prove yourself useful or Nagini might enjoy extra rat for the dinner and you can start by retelling everything that happened that night," he said as Wormtail still cried on his knees.
Annoyed, he hissed again, "Today, or do you want enjoy more of mine attention, you worthless rat," and, indeed, he retold story once again, without omitting details this time. As he spoke, Lord Voldemort lovingly stoke his wand and listened closely, wondering about hidden ally that deemed Wormtail worthy enough to set him free. It was sad, really, that of all of his competent and loyal followers he got only the worst one at his disposal. Sure, some were imprisoned, refusing to denounce their lord and they will be rewarded for their loyalty, but there were many others on freedom, their riches and names cleared, their standings intact and those will have to be reminded what it means to pledge to him only to raise their hands when things went bad. Oh, he will remind them. They will remember why they used to fear him for Lord Voldemort is coming back and he does not forgive easily. Thirteen years as a shadow, as a mere painful existence...but he was nothing if patient.
Far away, in the middle of London in small inn called Leaky Cauldron another boy sat, reading the newspapers and helping himself with some tea provided by the bartender called Tom.
He was tall and thin, and radiated confidence and power which made the part of the bar where he was sitting rather empty opposed to another end of it where usual guests chatted loudly about various topics. He didn't care though. His mind was elsewhere as his intelligent, green eyes went over this or that article.
He was rarely one to have lunch in a public place, but as his household grew he found the need to be alone so he can focus completely on his thoughts. His growing family was pestering him more then ever. They seemed to think he was stressed, or damaged because of the events that occurred to him in previous year. He took life, he almost lost his own life and he lost the life of a friend. However, all of this events happened to him before and he started to grow accustomed to them. He wished he wasn't, but he knew he wouldn't choose otherwise if he had another chance.
His previous plans also fell into the water as fate challenged him once again. Their political edge was stagnating as the ministry chose to focus on the two incoming events: World's Quidditch finale and Triwizard tournament. His training with Yaxley was postponed as older man decided to took his daughter on the early vacation somewhere in Europe. His pledges to visit his aunt were ignored or denied, depends on what clerk received them and he amused himself with a thought of visiting Amelia with such a request.
Most of everything, he wanted someone to talk to. Someone who might understand, but he feared that people who would were not his friends or allies so he brooded in silence, thinking about past and future, about failures and successes, about his friends and enemies. It was beautifully complicated, current state of status quo in Britain, and he loved to think it over and over again. It took his mind away from Megan and Tracey.
'It will be lonely road, little heir, and one to the hell too,' his aunt used to say and he realized she was right. He wondered if Voldemort and Dumbledore felt like that too. He wondered if they realized the price of power and if they sometimes wished they were ordinary people with ordinary worries. It was arrogant of him to think himself along the likes of them, but he didn't care because the line between arrogance and confidence is a thin one and he believed in his capacities. Or rather, he believed in his future prowess.
Nymphadora Tonks was a happy young woman. After 7 years of hard studying in Hogwarts and 3 years of intense training under the best auror ever, one and only Alastor 'Mad-eye' 'Constant Vigilance' Moody she finally became fully pledged auror. No more 'rookie' and junior auror nonsense for her. No, now she could have higher profile cases, solo missions and many other benefits that came along with the title.
Hoping to find familiar face to brag to, she flooed directly into Leaky Cauldron with a wide grin on her face. Once there, it was replaced with a slight frown. No one notice her, her new bright red robes or her happiness. Her frown deepened as she noticed that only those old farts who spent their whole life in here were the only people around.
Suddenly, she noticed familiar face in slightly secluded part of the bar and her smile appeared once again. Settled to scare him good, she made her way towards him, but her hopes were crushed as she tripped over badly misplaced chair and barely managed to stay on her foot.
Cursing it, she straightened herself just in time to see him putting his wand away. It was a strange thing though, the wand. Long, pale, with elaborate budge every inch or so. His eyes looked wary for a second, but amusement quickly replaced it as he pompously, with over-dramatic moves offered her a chair.
"Auror Tonks. It's an honor," he said as she happily took the offered place and waved for Tom to come over.
"Of course it is," she replied, glad that her companion was in good mood, "How often do you have a chance to pay a lunch for one of the best and prettiest aurors around?"
His response was cut off as Tom arrived and took her order. Once he left, Tonks realized that two of them weren't exactly friends and stood there awkwardly for a second.
"It will be my pleasure to do so," he said, pulling few golden coins from somewhere and putting them on the table for Tom. She wondered why he put so much on the table as he continued, "Have you just graduated?"
"Yes," she beamed, happy to brag, "You're looking at the youngest auror of the force and youngest female since Bones herself!"
"Well, then, congratulations are in order," he said, standing up. Before she connected the dots and tried to stop him, he started, "EVERYONE, if I could borrow your attention for few seconds. I'm calling a round for everyone so we could have a toast in a name of Nymphadora Tonks, the youngest female auror in the DMLE since director Bones herself," he finished and waited for bartender to bring a drink for everyone.
"May her career be long and successful one", he roared and people repeated after and started to clap loudly. She couldn't believe little brat had it in himself. She knew her hair, face and everything was bright red and she felt even more embarrassed when she noticed camera flashing at her. He surprised her by grabbing her in a half-hug, turning her towards camera and raising his glass as flash went off once again. All she managed was a small, proud smile.
Once everyone congratulated her personally and new, ambitious, reporter came to ask few question they sat down again.
"Merlin, that felt good," he said with a huge grin, "Thank you, auror Tonks, for this entertainment."
"You bloody prick," she hissed, "If this ends in a Prophet, I swear, I'll curse you to China."
He just waved off her threat with a laugh, and replied, "Nothing wrong with a bit of publicity. But, really, not that I mind, is there any reason you came here?"
"No, not really," she said, one again blushing slightly. She understood it looked weird from his perspective.
"Well, then, we should make the best out it, right?" he tilted his head slightly and she relaxed as she remembered how easy-going the boy really was so she nodded noticing Tom coming with her lunch. It was a good distraction.
He asked her a lot of questions. About her ex mentor, about Bones, about her colleagues, about her training and she happily replied. She truly loved her job and it wasn't hard to talk about it. It was hard to remember that boy was an actual lord of Wizengamot, prodigy of Hogwarts and bloody Carrow. It was hard to believe that someone tried to kill him.
However, during their talk she couldn't help but wonder about Black and Hufflepuff girl that died only a few weeks ago. It wasn't wildly spread story, but aurors heard of it.
"So what were you lot doing out of bounds when dementors swarmed in?" she blurted when she couldn't hold it anymore and his face changed immediately. His natural smile sharpened, his eyes hardened as he leaned back in his chair, moving away from her. She didn't even notice how close they were to each other. He studied her like that for a few seconds and it seemed to her that she saw disappointment in his eyes.
"Is this in your official capacities, auror? An interrogation? If so, I have to remind you that you are speaking to the lord of Wizengamot and you have no powers whatsoever in dealing with those," he said, his voice cold and emotionless. Suddenly, she didn't feel that good. She felt lonely and oppressed as he continued to look directly in her eyes, waiting for the response.
"No. I mean, I'm just curious because everything's so shush shush. Like always with Dumbledore, but still," she trailed stupidly, not thinking about her words. He nodded, loudly sighed and suddenly looked vulnerable.
"Wrong time, wrong place kind of situation and once everything went to hell, I miscalculated and had to choose between her and others who were there."
"Y-you left her to be kissed?" she blurted before figuring how bad that must've sounded and immediately tried to correct herself, "I mean, you chose others over your friend? Not something many people would have guts to do."
He stared at her and she wondered how she ever thought he looked vulnerable. Boy could change his demeanor in a second and most of them weren't nice.
"You're auror. They have to teach you this stuff," he drawled, his voice full of disgust and sarcasm, "On one side you have muggleborn whose name no one knows and on another there is Boy-who-Lived, the greatest hero of Britain, his best friend who is, by the way, pureblood and girl known as brightest witch of her generation not including me. So, auror, what would you choose?"
It wasn't fair of him, she knew, and it was low blow, but she could see where from it was coming. His surname only would be enough to crucify him if he was found anywhere near the lifeless body of Harry Potter. Blood, even though Voldemort was defeated, still meant much in wizarding circles.
"They won't tell me where they put her ash. They didn't do any kind of funeral for her. They just pretended it didn't happen and she will be forgotten. Not even her parents will remember her. She was probably send to Department of Mysteries so they can do Merlin knows what to her. That, Tonks, is ministry in whose service you are and as you grow you will see more and more of those situations and you will be powerless to make it right. Ministry can't and won't change. It is bitter reality of this society, that it won't change and that no one is willing to do what it takes to change it. Well, Dark Lord was willing, but not in direction I am talking about," he spoke passionately and she found herself nodding along here and there before she could stop herself.
"World we have created for ourselves after the fall of the Dark Lord is illusion. It seems nice, caring and full of opportunities, but under its facade there is an ugly truth hidden. Corruption, racism, prejudice and more. However, back in Hogwarts, one can hear and see many things. Believe me when I say that that illusion is crumbling, slowly but surely, and what comes after won't be nice. Watch for signs, follow the clues, observe people in ministry and you'll see it for yourself and when the time comes ask yourself: 'Are you willing to do what must be done?" he finished and just as she was about to say something, ask him what was he talking about, another figure came to their table, not even looking at her.
"Father's busy in Gringotts. We have hour or so," he said and Tonks noticed it was one of the boys that dueled her back in Hogsmeade. Apollo just nodded and rose up, looking at her.
"It was nice to catch up Tonks. Don't be a stranger and try to ambush us sometimes. Vince here is eager for a rematch," he said as other boy just smirked, watching her like he was evaluating her.
"You're leaving? Just like that?" she demanded, not really knowing what was going on as they started to walk away.
"Books to buy, knowledge to be found and so on. It waits for no one, you know?" he said without turning around, leaving her alone and annoyed. Should she follow them?
Paul and Vince made their way towards Knocturn alley. Their pace was quick as they observed everything around them and Vince insisted to walk a feet or two behind Paul.
"Sorry to bother you like this, but I don't think its smart to go down there on my own again," Paul explained to another boy.
"S'okay. Not much to do anyway," Vince responded, carefully watching badly glamoured hag.
"You continued to train?"
"Can't. Our manor isn't protect against trace and ministry just waits for some excuse to come and sniff around. Been doing some occlumency and reading though."
"Good. Keep doing so then. I have my hand full with Blaise, Hestia and Flora. I'm not even 14 and I already have to worry about bunch of children," he joked as Vince smirked, but said nothing.
"But I try to keep twins busy. And Blaise is all over my books about warding, runes and such. I'll see Gemma tomorrow and Theo's busy with some poison whose main ingredient is Giant's eyeball, of all things. Who comes up with that shit?" he continued to talk about nothing as Vince just nodded along.
"What about Greg? and John?" he asked, and then after a second of hesitation, Tracey?"
"Greg's good, doing same as me. John's father finally got Travers vaults, but cannot go for lordship. Dunno why. Morag sent a letter that Tracey's under control, whatever that means, and that she'll be with us next year. She also said her mother's careful about her job and that you'll know what she's talking about."
"Oh, that's good. Okay. We are here," he said as they approached old bookstore."
"I'll be at the entrance, on the inside. Brought the hood too. Father says no one dares to go past those wearing them," Vince said and Paul had to chuckle.
"Sure, see you in a bit," he replied as he went deeper inside.
"Mike!" he yelled, "You there?"
"Where would I be?" Paul heard old man grunting from somewhere between the shelves. When he arrived in Paul's sight he observed him critically before continuing.
"I see you're growing into promising figure. For a Carrow, at least. Been dabbling in more ancient magic too, I see. You know those things are dangerous?"
"I know," Paul responded, but old man didn't show any signs that he heard him.
"They cannot actually make you more powerful. Will, knowledge and experience are only things that can."
"I know," Paul repeated, more forcefully.
"Those tricks won't work with me," he mocked, "Little heir, was it? Heh, anyway, they only help you improving your own mindset. You get more powerful because you think you are, you grow attuned with magic because you will yourself to, but those chants won't do much besides that. It is good to do few to come closer with your ancestry, family traits and so, but it will never be enough to compensate for sacrifices made."
"Mike," he tried again, tiredly, "I know all of that, but as long as it works and as long as I'm fine it's okay."
"Hmm, are you though? Okay, I mean? Yes, it might look like they help, but they also leave stains behind. Just like murder does, but you already know that, don't you?" he observed him once more, before turning back to the book, "It is what it is, still, I'd advise you to stop with that nonsense. Read, train, there are many better fields of magic. Useful. But look at me babbling about some random kid like I care about him. So, what do you want this time, runt?"
Paul smirked, "Books about better fields of magic. Useful ones," he responded as old man roared in laughter.
"Cheeky bugger, you are. That I have. It will cost you though, oh, it will," he said and Paul sighed dramatically.
"What do you want this time?"
"Shush. It's not time for jokes. We're about to discuss serious stuff. Really serious, you got me?" he smirked as Paul's eyes widened and he wondered if he should go for his wand. Even if his hand motion was subtle and barely noticeable, Mike caught it and his smirk widened.
"Oh, boy. You think you can take me? Me, who wielded such magics that whole world watched in awe? Me, who was out there for decades before your parents were born? Put it away before you hurt yourself, you hear me? I like you, but there will always be limits and you came close to reaching one, got it?" Paul left his wand where it was and slowly nodded as new thoughts entered his mind. Questions he ought to ask long time ago.
"It surprised even me, when I heard Black is innocent, but that is irrelevant. So, last time when we had a deal I managed to read everything from your library that I wanted. Now, with your ambitions, plans and whatever, you might and probably will come in contact with him again. With Black, I mean. When you do, you'll become okay with the chap and make him to let you into his family library. That's what I want."
Paul thought about it for a full minute before slowly nodding, "I guess I can manage that. With time. But those books better be good for such a price!"
"Oh, they will be, no worries about that. Another thing I wanted to congratulate you on. You're learning and that's good. Good chap you got here, having your back, but my wards can tell," he giggled when he saw Paul's confused face. It was a strange sound, "Go on, reveal yourself."
To Paul's surprise, from the back of the room a noise could be heard: Vince's grunt. He quickly became visible and just shrugged at Paul's questioning look as old man started to laugh again.
"Enchanted hood, good one, to make you blend in the current environment if you wish so," he guessed and Vince shrugged again.
"Nicked it from father. It took me a while to work it out," he explained and when Paul nodded to him he retreated back to the entrance. Mike went for the promised books and came back with a big pile in his hands. They looked old and weary and Paul already felt excitement. He loved old books. The amount of knowledge some of them offered was incomparable to modern books that were ministry approved.
"Originated from Greece. Elements, control of environment, powering your spells with emotions and much more. Powerful magic, but I reckon you're ready for it. Don't even approach fiendfyre and similar stuff till you know this perfectly," he explained, putting the books on the counter.
"Could they help me with my Patronus?" Paul wondered, but old man looked him sadly. Paul never saw that look on Mike's face. Was that pity?
"You need to know happiness to summon a Patronus. To feel happiness, to pull it from your memories."
"Memories," Paul repeated wondering.
"Memories, my boy. Told you earlier, it will never be enough to compensate for sacrifices you made. You told me once that dementors barely affects you and there is a reason for it. The thing that makes you resistant to them, also makes you incapable of summoning Patronus. We, who like to dabble in magic, often learn things hard way. But enough about that, let's get to business. Do we have a deal?"
"Yeah, fuck it. Deal!"
"That's what I like to hear. Three years, by my estimate, should be enough for you to mingle your way into the Black library."
"If you say so, Mike," Paul said, stashing books in his enlarged pocket and turned to leave, but something in the back of his head stopped him and he slowly turned around, "Mike?"
"Yes?" he grunted from somewhere behind, already lost in his books.
"Who the fuck are you?"
"HAH," he cried in joy, laughing, "Took you long enough, didn't it?"
Paul listened his chuckling for another few seconds before realizing that he will not get his answer. Sighing and adding another mystery to solve in his mind, he made his way toward Vince.
It was late afternoon when Paul finally appeared back at home. Blaise watched as he sat in his armchair and wondered if his friend had a thing for them. Wherever they settled, Forgotten room, common room, his home, there was always 'Paul's armchair'. He continued to observe him as old house elf, Blink, popped in with a dinner and few letters for his master. He was quiet while Paul went through them because he knew he liked to read them in the silence. He winced slightly as loud explosion was heard from the dungeon and felt for his friend when annoyed glint came present in his eyes.
"Anything interesting?" he finally asked.
"Not really. Got a meeting tomorrow at Farley's manor and Yaxley will make it. He managed to secure two-way portkey for the day."
"And today?" Blaise prodded.
"Got a lunch with auror, Tonks. Well she had a lunch, I was just there. Met Vince later and we bought some books down in the Knocturn," he said while Blaise nodded.
"I was wondering," he started and Paul put off his cutlery, turning his attention toward Blaise.
"Yes?"
"I've seen you three dueling and you are way better than me, like entirely another league. You practiced on your own? Back in the school?"
"Yeah."
"So why wasn't I invited?" he demanded as his friend observed him.
"Strengths," he finally responded.
"I beg your pardon?" Blaise asked, confused.
"Strengths, Blaise, everyone has them and dueling isn't yours. From what we do in the room and with some things I'll show you over the summer you will be able to stand your ground. Luckily, it will never come down to that. No sense spending time for something you'll end up being average when you can put your time into warding and stuff."
"Oh," Blaise said thinking it over, "but you can get through wards faster then me. You know more about them, about curses, runes and stuff like that?"
"For now, mate, I do, but I will be spending most of my time on others fields that suits me more. Mainly transfiguration. I'm capable of many magic, but I'm not expert in them and you will be if you put your mind to it."
"Huh?"
"Just like Gemma is more suited for healing. I'm pants in it, as you know, and there is nothing I can do to gain delicacy needed for it. I can brute force some wards, but gentle hand needed for dismantle them will always evade me. I mean, I spent hours and hours at your house and I knew before what i was against. You'll be able to do so when we have no idea what wards we will encounter," he explained, but Blaise wasn't completely sure that was the whole truth so he decided to be blunt.
"Is that so? I think it's more along the lines that you cannot be doing everything by yourself," he challenged him, but Paul just smirked. It was not nice expression.
"Maybe, maybe not, but I don't think like that so let me explain you my way. I'd like better that you to poke around someone's wards while I cover your back than vice versa. You?" and if Blaise was honest, it sounded much better Paul's way, but he didn't need to know that.
"And what if I liked other way better?"
"Then we will probably end dead, either due to wards or due to attackers."
"He's right, you know?" new voice interrupted him.
"He can hold both of us now, and even managed to win once," added another voice, quite similar to first one and Blaise turned around to find sweaty Hestia and Flora grinning at him. They took their seats, still grinning, before continuing.
"No one better to watch your back, I'd say."
"And no one worse to piss off, I reckon."
"And still, the two of you do it daily," Paul muttered, but was ignored.
"So you do your gentle work, work that you like."
"And let all this nasty cursing each other thing to the crazy ones."
"She means them," Paul helpfully added.
"No," Hestia disagreed, "I meant Carrows," she finished and she and her sister fit into giggles as Paul rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed because it was a rare sight.
"Aww," Flora purred when she notice Paul's reaction, "You know you love us."
"As if," he replied, his face calm and serious, "Continue to act so and you will soon find yourself homeless and disgraced."
Even so, Blaise couldn't help, but notice small smile on his face that appeared when the twins couldn't see it, once he reached for the book. Quietly chuckling, Blaise also opened his book and started reading, happy with his new, deranged, crazy and barely functioning family.
In the quite ordinary house, somewhere in England, under the invisibility cloak a figure was struggling. Struggling against his own father's Imperius. It became his routine and it lasted for years and years. He woke up, struggled against iron will of his father, and then went to sleep. Still, he never stopped. Not when his master needed him. Even trough the unforgivable curse he could feel small amount of magic coming from his dark mark, reassuring him that his master was alive, still out there, bidding his time. And so he struggled, whole day and every day till it finally happened; something, deep in his mind, shifted. If he wasn't under it so long, he doubted he would noticed the difference, but now he was an expert of being controlled and he knew something has shifted. It gave him enough control to smirk, but it was enough to light his hopes up and to try again.
Soon, my lord, soon.
Note: So the story goes on. First chapter is here and it is nothing exciting, but enough for me to re-enter my story and continue to develop it. You can expect few more chapters before their 4th year begins to set the chessboard. I'm curious if you ever wondered about Mike? I did, for some time now and I realized that he, indeed, is someone who might be known to you. Reviews would be appreciated, but even if you just read it I'll be happy. Be safe and wash your hands.