Chapter Eighty-Nine

Party Fool

Marcus Flint Junior made his way into a local park that was filled with Muggles running around like vermin. There were screaming children in the playpark. There were adults in too tight running outfits. There were old couples going slower than a snail. And teenagers hanging around the edges drinking, smoking and snogging. Marcus didn't even bother to hide the sneer of disgust at being forced to coinhabit with this filth as he found himself at the strangely textured black bench that was neither wood or metal or any material that Marcus recognised it must be something strange Muggles were doing.

Marcus sat down and waited for the old wizard to arrive. Dumbledore turned up a couple of minutes later. Marcus still had trouble putting this tired, sad looking old man with the old venerable headmaster. Dumbledore had had to shave his hair and beard and without them his wrinkles seemed more pronounced. He was wearing large grey cotton running trousers and an even large moth-eaten black trench coat. This just served to make the always thin man look exceptionally frail. Only those bright blue eyes that still shone with power reminded Marcus of the man that Albus Dumbledore had once been.

Dumbledore sat down beside him, 'ah, Marcus, my boy.'

Marcus grimaced but was saved from answering them thanks to a middle-aged couple walking past them. They didn't so much as glance their way and if they had what would they see? A grandfather and grandson going for a walk most likely.

'Dumbledore,' sneered Marcus. 'My father has received an invitation to celebrate the Dark Prince's-'

'-Dark Prince, is that what they are calling young Harry now,' Dumbledore sounded vaguely amused. 'And you were saying.'

Marcus felt a little peeved at the old fool's nonchalance – did Dumbledore not understand how much Marcus was risking by just talking to Albus Dumbledore! If he was found out the Dark Lord would kill him! And not even his father would do anything to help him, even if he was so inclined to which given his precious new sons was rather unlikely.

'As I was saying! The Dark Prince will be celebrating his pregnancy and the continuation of the Dark Lord's line with a feast,' Marcus said.

'Will you be able to attend?' Dumbledore asked looking more animated than Marcus had seen him in years.

Marcus nodded, 'families of Death Eaters have been invited to come. Due to the fact I am known to be back in the country it would be embarrassing should I not attend an event like this – my father has demanded that I be in attendance.'

Dumbledore smiled and it seemed to take decades off of his face 'meet me here again this time next week and I shall give you a wardborer and all you need to do is place it at a weak-point in the wards and it will create a gap large enough that will allow me to get in. The wardborer will glow red when it reaches a weak-point.'

Marcus Flint Junior found himself attending the party celebrating the continuation of the Dark Lord's line. Marcus had still been in Europe when the Dark Lord's return and the Dark Prince's birthday were celebrated, and he had only been five when the Dark Lord fell so he had few memories of the Dark Lord back in the day.

In the middle of the banquet hall on a raised dais sat the table of the extended family of the Dark Lord and Prince. The Dark Prince was naturally seated at the end due to it being his event. The Dark Lord was sat immediately to his right and Lord Malfoy to his left. Draco was sat to Lucius' right and Narcissa beside him and a then followed a middle-aged man and three teenaged girls and a boy about his age. On the other side was Sirius Black, sat beside him was a dark-haired man he didn't recognise and to the end of the table were three red heads looking nervous.

There were many small round tables which could fit around ten people around the room that were basically a chose your own kind of affair. Although, there did seem to be an unconscious decision that the Outer Circle members and their family sat as far away from the Dark Lord as possible and gave the Inner Circle members and powerful allies the prime seats.

The Dark Lord stood up first after everyone was seated, 'welcome, my faithful.'

As the Dark Lord spoke Marcus felt himself magically compelled to listen to his slightly hissing voice. His power was astonishing! Marcus felt dread at the idea of working against him especially when Dumbledore didn't currently have the resources to protect him (even if he wanted to!)

'I am sure by now you have all heard our delightful news. I am sure you can comprehend why Hadrian and myself felt it necessary to keep this as a need to know basis given that Dumbledore-'

There were boos and hisses at this.

'-has already made threats to rip the baby from Hadrian,' the Dark Lord said eyes flashing red and magic becoming completely oppressive. 'Due to my husband and Heir's fate, I can assure you that I have taken these threats completely seriously. And should any betray me, they shall beg for death.'

Marcus gulped and hoped it wasn't obvious he was doing so … Marcus had to try very hard not to put his hand in his robes where the wardborer was. But as he looked around, he realised that he was not the only one doing so and he didn't think all of them were planning to sneak Dumbledore into the Dark Lord's manor, so he was probably okay.

'I welcome you to my home to celebrate the continuation of the Ancient and Noble Line of Slytherin – now my son would like to say a few words,' the Dark Lord sat down.

The Dark Prince stood up, 'thank you all for coming today and celebrating the conception of my son. Myself, my father, Lucius and Draco are pleased to welcome you here to join in with our celebrations. Now, please enjoy the food.'

The Dark Prince sat down just as the sautéed scallops appeared on the table. Marcus, however, kept an eye on the boy he had faced on the Quidditch pitch for three years. He would never have begged him for anything but a Muggle-loving son of a Mudblood. Yet, here they were with the Boy Who Lived as the Dark Lord's Heir and Marcus planning to betray them to Dumbledore.

'Lucky sod,' Lord Avery said nodding at Lucius Malfoy. 'What I wouldn't give to join lines with the Slytherin family.'

Marcus' father snorted, 'and that thinking is exactly why you never will – the Dark Prince will not tolerate someone using him for his bloodline!'

'How do you think Lucius did it?' asked Lady Avery curiously.

Marcus' father snorted, 'I would advise you against gossiping in present company. If the Dark Lord feels the need to inform us he will, if not you should not question him.'

'And I hear that the Dark Lord is not the only one who is in need of congratulations,' Lady Avery said smiling dangerously.

'Congratulations,' Marcus' father assured her.

This was the first feat that his father had not tried to arrange his marriage with any acceptable, unmarried noble in attendance. And Marcus knew that meant that his father had lost all interest in him as an heir. In a few months, his first-born twin sibling would be named as Heir, his second-born as the Spare and Marcus would be nothing.

The object he had in his pocket was burning a hole in his pocket. All he had to do was place it somewhere near the property's ward boundaries and it would create a hole which would allow Dumbledore to break in and get enough evidence of the Dark Lord being the Dark Lord.

Steeling himself despite his fear Marcus requested where the lavatory was. He was pointed in the direction of the reception room they had flooed in. But Marcus didn't go there, instead he made his way to the large oak doors that would lead him to the gardens and lands that the Dark Lord's palace sat on. He kept walking until the neatly cultivated lands met the wild woodlands of the world beyond the Dark Lord's border. There he took the wardborer out of his pocket where it was glowing dark red and was about to activate it when from behind him the Dark Lord appeared from behind him.

Marcus gulped realising that he was completely and utterly screwed.

Tom was just speaking to Lord Xenopolous about his intention to run for the Greek President of Magic when he felt his wards alert him that someone was trying to breach the front door. The guests were only allowed access to certain areas of the castle and the grounds were not there.

'The wards have been activated,' Tom said.

'Should we be concerned?' questioned Hadrian looking worried.

Tom shook his head, 'it's someone trying to get out – not in. Its likely just someone who is too nosy for their own good.'

Hadrian nodded.

Tom made his way towards the front doors which thanks to magic were rarely actually used. He left and followed the trail of magic towards the edge of the wars where he found Marcus' son with a wardborer in his hands. So not a curious houseguest after all.

'Crucio!'

Flint Junior was suddenly on the floor screaming in pain. The young man dropped the device he was carrying onto the soft ground beside him. Tom kept the curse on him for but a minute – he didn't want to risk Flint losing his mind after all. Not when Tom had questions for the foolish wizard. After all one didn't just happen across a wardborer and Tom could think of only one person who would want access to his place of residence – Albus Dumbledore.

'Legimens!'

Tom carelessly tore bast the feeble walls that the Flint boy had and began sifting through his memories. He found his greed, his selfishness, his desire for fame, riches and power but not the drive to do anything to obtain it. The envy and fear he felt when he realised that he was about to lose all that he had been born into. His desire to get rid of the obstacles to what he felt was rightfully his. So much so that it had apparently eroded his fear of Tom, because he turned to Dumbledore for help and Dumbledore had requested that he create a hole in the wards so that he could get in.

'Crucio!'

This time Tom held it for no longer than before, but he increased the intensity because he had no doubt that had he succeeded Dumbledore would go straight for Hadrian. Dumbledore was the definition of madman – repeating the same plan again and again even when it had failed so spectacularly and ripped him of everything he valued.

By the time he was done Flint was shaking with pain, snot was running from his nose, he was crying and curled up in a ball. Tom's mouth curled in fury at the young man who had sought to bring harm to his. He would die for this … but not before he could be of some use!

'Please, please, no more,' begged Flint.

Tom laughed cold and harsh, 'I have drove people insane from the pain of the cruciatus that by the time I chose to kill them it was a mercy! But lucky for you I still have further use for you. Crucio!'

Flint screamed again and this time Tom held it until Flint was unable to scream anymore. Tom released the spell and levitated the foolish boy to the dungeons to deal with after the party. This day was for Hadrian he would not ruin it especially not because of Dumbledore.

Marcus was becoming decidedly worried as by the end of the dinner his son had failed to return from the bathroom. This was, of course, not helped by the fact that the Dark Lord had left shortly after Marcus had and returned reeking of Dark magic. It had everyone who could sense magic jittery. And had Marcus worried about what the hell his idiot son had done this time!?

So, when the Dark Lord bid goodbye and swept off with his son following him shortly behind. Marcus was unsure whether to leave or not when his Dark Mark burned. Marcus made his way towards the Dark Lord's office where he found the Dark Lord, the Dark Prince, Lucius and Black already present. All of them were wearing various expressions of fury. The Dark Prince, however, threw him a look of sympathy.

'I caught your son attempting to plant a ward disruption device given to him by none other than Albus Dumbledore,' the Dark Lord said coolly. 'It would appear that he decided the best way to become the Head of the Flint House was to expose me as Lord Voldemort and you as a follower.'

'That foolish boy,'

Marcus was forever disappointed in his son, but he loved the boy and would not see harm come to him. However, he knew after what Marcus had done there was nothing that he could do to protect him from the wrath of the Dark Lord.

'I can assure you, my Lord, that I had no part in this,' Marcus said.

'If I had any doubts about your loyalty, we would not be having a conversation,' the Dark Lord said dryly.

Marcus swallowed, 'yes, my Lord.'

'So, what happens now?' asked the Dark Prince.

'As much as I would love to kill him, he is just a pawn,' the Dark Lord said.

'But pawns can be used to take kings,' Lucius said dryly.

The Dark Lord smirked in a way very reminiscent of the boy Marcus had known in school and never before had Marcus wished for those simple days back. Days before the war. Days before knowing that his first born was going to be killed for being a damn fool and there was nothing that Marcus could to protect the boy.

Lucius chuckled, 'yes, I understand.'

'Hadrian, go to Malfoy Manor and stay there,' the Dark Lord said. 'This is not up for debate – I don't want that man anywhere near you!'

The Dark Lord seemed to be expecting the Dark Prince to argue back but instead the young man nodded and hissed something in response. The Dark Lord hissed back but seemed settled. The young man seemed in two minds but then made his way towards the Dark Lord and capture him in an embrace, before leaving.

'Lucius, Sirius, go with him,' Tom said. 'No matter who wins protect my son and his son with your life.'

'You know you don't have to ask me that, my Lord,' Lucius said.

Black nodded, 'you know it is not you whom my loyalty belongs.'

'My Lord … Tom … for the sake of our long friendship may I ask for a few minutes with my son,' Marcus said softly once the two men had left.

Marcus felt his heart break.

His son may have been a massive disappointment, but he did love him! And now the fool boy had betrayed the Dark Lord. If he had just thought for a second! What did he think he was going to accomplish?

That foolish child!

His foolish child!

The Dark Lord looked at him consideringly, 'you are not going to request that I spare his life?'

Marcus knew that there was no way that the Dark Lord would allow Marcus to live. Marcus had known the other wizard since he was eleven and a small, malnourished boy who knew nothing about the world he was inhabiting! Marcus had grown with Tom Riddle and was one of the first to pledge himself to the young Dark Lord. And, although the Dark Prince had mellowed the Dark Lord a little – not enough to show mercy to traitors especially not as his own son would have likely been kidnapped and killed for this!

Marcus swallowed, 'I love my son … but after what he has done, I know that he is too dangerous to live, he was willing to betray me after all. I just request that I be allowed to talk to him.'

The Dark Lord nodded, 'of course, Marcus, and for what it's worth it brings me no joy to take your son from you.'

'I know,' Marcus said quietly.

And what more could he say. The Dark Lord's friendship with him would not change his son's fate - nothing would, not now. And Marcus knew it.

That foolish boy.

Marcus woke up in a cold dank cell unsure of where he was. Marcus' whole body felt like it was on fire. It was like nothing he had ever felt before. And his mind felt … disjointed … violated … but even as he sat there, he began to piece things together.

Dumbledore

The wardborer

The Dark Lord

PAIN

Marcus shuddered he was dead.

'Yes, you are,'

His father was standing there looking down at him with sadness … like he was already grieving him.

'Father, please, you have to save me, the Dark Lord-'

'I can't save you, you foolish boy!' snapped his father. 'You betrayed the Dark Lord for money to Dumbledore! There is nothing I can do or say which will sway him from saving your life!'

'Like you care!' spat Marcus. 'Not now that you have your perfect twins!'

'OF COURSE, I CARE!' shouted Marcus. 'You are my son, I love you … I should have taught you better that consequences have actions. And now you will have to see that for yourself. I am sorry.'

Suddenly he felt his father hug him.

'You, foolish, foolish, child,' Marcus' father said voice choking with tears.

'Father,' whispered Marcus. 'Please, do something. I don't want to die!'

Marcus' father clutched him tighter, 'I know, I'll be here with you, until the end.'

The Dark Lord arrived in a few moments later with the familiar wardborer that had started all of this, 'this will only activate for your magic boy so you will activate it.'

Marcus trembled with fear, but he looked up at the tall man, 'if you swear that you will not kill me.'

'Crucio!'

Marcus felt pain on top of pain. He could barely feel his father's arms still around him as he was tortured. He could hear screams echoing off of the wall and knew it was him but couldn't recall making the noise. And then the curse was lifted but the pain lingered on.

The Dark Lord, eyes red, peered down at him, 'you believe that you have any power here at all boy! You shall activate the wardborer … or I can continue until you agree …'

'Please, Marcus, just do it, don't prolong this, please,' his father said.

Marcus had never heard his father sound so broken and defeated as he did now.

'Save us both a lot of pain, please,' Marcus' father was actually begging him.

'Okay,'

Marcus found himself led at wand point towards the opposite ends of the grounds where a stone ritual circle that reeked of Dark magic was present. The Dark Lord began encanting around the stone circle creating some sort of barrier. And Marcus understood that this was to be a trap for Albus Dumbledore.

Then his wand and the wardborer were shoved into his hands. Marcus thought briefly about fighting and running for his life. He had the wardborer he could get away … but from one look at the Dark Lord he felt all hope die.

This was going to be the end for him.

He placed the wardborer at the place that had the instrument pulsing with Gryffindor red light. Then tapped it once with his wand and it seemed to circle a spot and then fall down to the ground with it's magic spent. Marcus couldn't see any difference, but he was sure it had done his job. Dumbledore was many things but that didn't mean he was anything but a genius.

Then he found his father's arms around him once more. Marcus buried his head in the older wizard's shoulder seeking comfort one last time.

'You shouldn't be here,' the Dark Lord said.

'I can't leave him,' his father responded.

'So be it, Avada Kedavra,'

Marcus clutched to his father and-