Chapter 26
They arrived back into Britain in a swirl of cerulean fire. The room was empty compared to Harry's memory of it, attended by only a lone servicewizard, who barely glanced at them as he finished his mandatory enchantment inspections, herding them out of the room with a bored expression. Dolohov, wearing the appearance of Delaney, strode confidently from the room, prompting Harry to follow. The corridor beyond was just as empty, populated by a solitary figure seemingly waiting for them to arrive.
"Ah!" Lucius Malfoy exclaimed, striding forward towards the pair, his cane smacking against the flagstones with a sharp crack every other step. "Welcome to Britain," He smiled at 's eyes narrowed.Why is he here? Does he know who that is?
Malfoy finally noticed Harry over Dolohov's shoulder and froze, eyes going wide as his hand went to the handle of his cane.
"Don't worry," Dolohov waved his hand. "He's one of ours now." Malfoy relaxed, his tightfisted grip on the head of the cane loosening.
"Oh, very good then. We've—had some trouble with him before," He said, giving Harry a quick glare before turning his attention back to Dolohov with a haughty frown. What?
"What of his master? He's not one to trifle with, I worry that you'll bring his full attention down on us again. In fact, I'm not sure how how you haven't done so already." Lucius eyed Dolohov, tilting his head back to stare down his nose at the man, every inch the regal aristocrat. He looked the same as Harry remembered from his world, long blond hair pulled back from his face, pale and pointed, draped in layers of obnoxiously expensive looking robes.
It suddenly clicked with Harry. The attack at the quidditch game. That had to be the 'trouble' Malfoy referenced. They'd cleaned up most of those maniacs in sweeps after the failed assassination attempt, but some had slipped through. That Malfoy was one of those few wasn't all that surprising.
"Director Riddle is no longer a concern, for either of us," Dolohov responded, a savage smile crossing his face. Malfoy's eyes bulged, momentarily losing his composure.
"He—well that is news," He muttered, a small frown creasing his eyebrows. "Very well then. No sense dawdling here where someone could come across us—I'll escort you from the Ministry building."
"My thanks Mr. Malfoy," Dolohov said, sweeping his hand with a mocking grin, indicating to lead the way. Malfoy started down the hallway, a polite smile fixed on his face, trying to mask the pinched expression threatening to cross it.
Was he upset at Riddle's supposed demise? No, Harry realized, as he watched the man give scrutinizing side glances to Dolohov as they walked. He was starting to worry he'd bitten off more than he could chew with these foreigners. Whatever he had been expecting was thrown off—he clearly hadn't expected Harry and the news about Riddle would shake any Brit.
"Normally there would be rather stringent re-entry procedures," Malfoy waved a dismissive hand. "Standard procedure. Checking for foreign influences, curses, and the like. Fortunately I was able to get them—waived—for you. There shouldn't be any problem leaving the building." Right, Malfoy always was a dab hand at bribery.
They passed by an empty guard desk, and the abandoned antechamber past it where restraining chains hung from the walls, unattended. Harry didn't see another living soul until they reached the end of a corridor and entered the Ministry proper. On the far wall from them green fires flared erratically as employees floo'd in and out. As they crossed to the exit Malfoy turned towards Dolohov.
"Will you need lodgings provided upon your entry?" Malfoy asked. "We would be more than willing to provide."
Dolohov waved him off. "That's very generous Mr. Malfoy, but we must decline." Something about his gaze put Harry on edge. He doesn't trust Malfoy.
"Of course," Malfoy nodded. He slipped something surreptitiously to Dolohov under the guise of a handshake. As they pulled apart, Harry saw the glint of something silvery and reflective like metal disappear into Dolohov's robes, the vague outline of reminding Harry of a snake. "For communication," Malfoy stated, his polite smile belying the intensity of his gaze. He leaned in, hiding his words from everyone but Dolohov and Harry. "We are very pleased to have you here generalmajor. We'll be in touch." He stepped into the floo and disappeared in a whirl of flame.
Harry eyed the back of Dolohov's head as the man stared into the fire thoughtfully. The group that had gone after James Potter was homegrown, British witches and wizards radicalized through their distrust and disdain for muggles into extremists who supported Grindelwald's ideology. Was this why Dolohov infiltrated Britain? Or was he merely using them for convenience to accomplish another purpose?
Dolohov turned back to him. "You got a place for us boy?" Harry felt the pressure of a command swell against his head but he pushed it away with barely a thought.
"No," He said dully. "I lived with Riddle. Won't be able to get into his place now, without him."
Dolohov snorted, frowning. "Too bad, that. Good luck then that I squeezed an address out of old boy here, just in case," He said pointing a finger at his face, which still resembled Delaney. "Time to pay a home visit."
The address floated through Harry's head as a silent command to floo echoed inside. Dolohov was already gone, vanishing into streamers of roiling fire. Harry stared into the green fire as it died back down to a gentle blaze, now empty, and then turned his head around, looking across the Ministry as people bustled around.
"What if I just didn't follow?" He murmured wistfully.
"Then we'd die," Riddle said back, from under his robes. "Stop dallying or he'll get suspicious." Harry nodded, tearing his gaze away from the unsuspecting public.
Someone tapped his shoulder. "Excuse me, are you going to go through? You're blocking the floo."
Harry jumped, shaking his head. "Yes, sorry." He stepped into the fireplace and said the address, letting the world dissolve into a green flames.
Dozens of hearths whipped past his head as the world streamed by, his stomach thankfully used to the disorienting mode of travel. Just as sudden his vision materialized back into an ocean of color, stumbling out of the fireplace into a well-decorated sitting room.
"Barry dear, who is this?" Oh no.
"Oh, why this is Harry Evans, you've heard of him surely? He also returned home early and I thought it'd be nice to have him over."
Dolohov was standing beside a young woman, who was staring at Harry with wide eyes. He had a glass in his hand, and Harry saw the glint of an empty phial slip back into his sleeve.
"Harry Evans!" She squeaked. "Oh well I—an honor! I just—some notice," She fluttered before suddenly freezing, looking at Dolohov in confusion. "Barry. Your ring?" Oh no.
Delaney had a wife.
Dolohov looked down at his bare finger and shrugged. "Got misplaced I'm afraid. No matter; how was work today?"
"No matter," She spluttered. "What are you talking about? Where's your ring? And—work? I—you know I don't work."
"Ah, that's right," Dolohov smiled. "So no one is expecting to see you." He placed his glass down, without having taken a sip.
She reared back, a deep frown etching itself across her face. "Barry? Why are you saying these—these things?"
Dolohov simply laughed, as his skin started bubbling, his features blurring together as they melted. Delaney's face dissolved, expanding outwards and taking the shape of Dolohov's cruel visage. Delaney's wife screamed, turning to run at the same time as Harry reached for his wand.
"No, stop!" Riddle hissed.
Harry froze, fingertips inches away from his wand handle, itching to grab it.
Dolohov grabbed the fleeing woman and flung her into the wall, not bothering to use his wand as she flew through the air and bounced off with a loud crack. He strolled towards her dazed form, as she slowly pulled herself to her feet, using a nearby chair to support her weight.
"Riddle I can't let him—"
"The only thing you can do is doom us as well," Riddle snarled.
Dolohov reached down and gripped Delaney's wife around the neck with one hand. The wounded woman barely responded, shifting weakly in his grasp with a pitiful moan as the hand squeezed, the tendons on the back standing out in harsh contrast as it strained. There was a series of pops and then an echoing crunch as her throat caved, folding underneath the inhuman force applied to it. Her head flopped awkwardly to the side as Dolohov released it, bouncing off her shoulder and sliding across her chest as it hung precariously on snapped vertebrate.
Harry forced his hands to unclench; he had been gripping them hard enough that his nails had scored bloody holes in his palms.
"Mum?" A tremulous voice asked. Harry and Dolohov whipped around. There was a boy, well below Hogwarts years, standing at the entrance of the room, staring in with wide eyed confusion.
"And there's the brat," Dolohov smiled. "Why don't you come give your father a hug?" He crooned, petering off into a sickening laugh.
"Avada Kedavra."
A green jet of light flashed across the room and washed over the kid. He dropped to the floor instantly, motionless. Dolohov turned to Harry, eyeing his extended wand with a raised eyebrow.
"I didn't order you to do that," He said softly.
"My apologies." Harry stared back unwavering. "I thought you wanted the family eliminated." He kept his voice flat, hiding any quavers of emotion.
Dolohov huffed, glaring at him. "You ruined the fun."
"I didn't know we were having fun."
They stared at each other silently, neither one breaking. Eventually Dolohov looked away, a laugh bubbling up from his chest. "You got some balls boy, more than most would in your place. More than you should have, I think." He eyed Harry speculatively. Finally he shrugged, turning away. "Whatever. Least it'll be more entertaining than having the normal stiffs around."
Harry let out the breath he was holding. He flicked his wand and the two bodies lurched up off the floor, maneuvering through the air to hang beside him.
"What're you doing?"
"Disposing of the bodies. Or do you want to leave them here?" Harry asked. Dolohov gave him a curious look.
"You know what you're doing?" Harry nodded. "Well, go ahead then." He waved Harry away, as he walked out of the room, further into the house.
Keeping the two floating beside him Harry navigated them back out of the house, walking them around to the back garden. With a wave of his wand a block of dirt leaped out of the ground and piled next to him, leaving behind a perfectly cut rectangular hole in the earth.
"The least you deserve," He muttered levitating the woman's corpse down into the hole.
"I am surprised you took care of the boy," Riddle said. "I did not think you had it in you to do something like that."
"I don't," Harry muttered, stealing a glance at the floating child. "He's still alive."
"What? I heard the incantation. You cast the killing curse," Riddle said accusingly.
"No," Harry stressed. "I said the killing curse—I cast a paralysis curse. It—with some modifications to the casting it can appear very similar."
"Remarkable," Riddle mused, sounding actually impressed at the bluff. "So the brat is fine?"
"No, he's not fine. Yeah, he'll wake up in a few hours just feeling a little sore, but both his parents just got killed Riddle. Merlin fuck, I stood by and just watched them get murdered in front of me," He sighed, rubbing his face wearily.
"That is not what I meant and you know it," Riddle chided softly. "I am not your enemy—Dolohov is. And you could not have done anything about it. He would have killed you the second you turned your wand on him."
"Maybe. Or maybe I could've offed him before he got the chance."
"For all we know that would trigger that damn thing in your head anyway. Or, even if it did not, he would fail to check in with the continent and Straub would trigger it."
"Probably," Harry said morosely. "Fuck I hate not being able to do anything!" He flung a curse into the dirt, a wordless, shapeless expression of magic that blew a divot into the well maintained garden.
"As do I Harry," Riddle said gently. "But you saved the child—that is something. What are you planning to do with him?"
Harry craned his neck up to look at the floating child, blissfully unaware of what was happening around him.
"I'm—not sure," He said, squinting in thought. "I wasn't exactly thinking that far forward when I did it. I mean, I can't leave him here, but I don't exactly have any connections to place him with. If I bring him to the Ministry or St. Mungos they'll know who he is and come back here and tip off Dolohov that I lied."
"Should it come to it and there is no other option," Riddle hesitated. "Animate to inanimate transfiguration would put his...biological needs in stasis for the time being. It would also serve to hide him from Dolohov."
Harry shook his head in shock. "Merlin Riddle, it would be safer to just hand him over to Dolohov right now. You know what happens to wizards who spend too long in a transfigured state—not to mention what could happen if I mess up any of the re-applications."
"Yes, well, there are certainly some complications. But as a last resort, it is viable. I assure you I've attempted such spells a few times before without any permanent injuries."
"Well not all of us are you," Harry grumbled. He tapped his wand on the floating boy and they faded out of view, blurring into a roughly transparent shape bobbing in the air beside him. "I'll disillusion him for now, in case Dolohov checks on us. If it gets late and we still haven't come up with a better idea, we'll try your suggestion."
They sat in silent thought, staring off into the deep green of the surrounding area. Harry had no intention of going back into that house any time soon, not while Dolohov was still lurking in there, and the memory of a snapped neck and glassy eyes still burned behind his eyes. He took the moment to breath, close his eyes and relax into the pleasant afternoon sun beaming down onto him.
He lost track of time, and it could've been hours or minutes later, when the gentle flap of wings drew Harry's attention, jerking him from his stupor. He turned, almost jumping out of his skin as a proud looking owl alighted on his shoulder, its sharp talons digging painfully into his flesh through the robes. It stuck its leg out imperiously, looking away from him as it presented a letter towards his face. He blinked in groggy surprise.
He slipped the letter off the bird, unfurling it.
"Who is it from?" Riddle asked.
"The Potters—Lily," Harry muttered, still reading. He looked up, eyes wide. "They heard about what happened and want me to come visit. Why would they want that if they heard what happened?"
"Probably because Potter's got something between his ears, and knows you well enough to smell some political hogwash when he hears it," Riddle murmured. "Dolohov may not like that."
"He'll deal with it," Harry spat. "I'll say it would be suspicious for me not to answer. He probably doesn't care what I do as long as I'm around when he needs me, and—he trusts the curse. This is perfect."
He looked back up at the floating child. I couldn't save your parents, but at least I can try and do right by you.