Huh, I actually kinda like good Dudley. He has his moments I guess...
-Xenia
Chapter Thirty: To Compete
The morning went on fairly smooth from that point on, breakfast was a mind numbingly simple ordeal, giving Harry and Severus time to flesh out their plans. What would they be telling Dudley to do in order to help him out of this unsavory situation?
Their... conversation-- if you could even call it that-- from the night before was not given enough time to become a solid idea, so the absolutely needed to talk this out, and what better way to do so than through their mindlink?
But that wasn't on Harry's mind that morning. His mind was stuck on the fact that he and his mate could have been caught doing such scandalous deeds in the parlor. I mean, how could he have given in to those impulses so easily?
Yes, Severus was very attractive, with his deep intense eyes, his pale skin that spoke of a serious disposition, sharply angled jaw and cheekbones, his regal nose, and the black hair that cascaded like an inky waterfall. His body was great as well, with a build that spoke of a life of working hard, and the ability to hold him up against the wall...
He is tall enough and big enough to shield Harry and give him the sense of being protected, but not overwhelmed. The man was sophisticated and intimidating, he held and air of darkness around him, but his heart was warm to Harry. He had a dark past, but he had the mental fortitude to help Harry through his worst moments and memories.
In short, Harry loved the man sitting beside him, and it was only a matter of time before things went towards a more sexual space, but he did not expect it to be so soon. Not to mention the man was intelligent, great with potions, inventing things no one has even thought of trying to make, and magically strong.
It was enough to put his brain in a loop, he wanted the man, loved him even, but did not want to move so far so fast, Yet he wanted everything the other man could give him all at once. He was teasing other himself and his mate by waiting, but he also could not go against his lifetime celibacy only on impulse... could he? His body's wants and needs were beginning to force his walls to crumble.
Even now he wanted the stronger man to force him onto the table and Mark him plain for everyone to see. To be taken right where everyone could see the rapture on their faces and hear the breathless proclamations of eternal love.
Harry was just about to reach for his napkin to place in his lap, studiously ignoring the slight blush on his face and subtle scent of arousal-- which was being drowned out by the smell of breakfast-- when he was startled out of his reverie by his mate's deep mental voice.
'What exactly do you propose we do in response to the problem of your relatives, my dear?' His erection flagged a bit at this. He needed all of his attention to address this question, because he really did not know how to go about dealing with the Dudley situation.
The man seemed to really want their help, and if he were to be believed, which Harry was fairly certain was the case, then they would only have a week at the most to get this done. but what could 'This' even be?
'Well I was playing with the thought of...'
The end of breakfast was almost too quick to come upon the group, the day was finally ready to start, and give way to the first event in the challenge.
The first Challenge was to play an instrument, and if they sang it would be an added bonus. This would take place out in the courtyard where the castles inner garden would provide both shade and seating to those in attendance. Dudley would be going first, so as not to embarrass himself by following after Harry.
He played a very catchy tune on the flute, which meant he could not sing and play at the same time which was a smart way out if you asked either Sirius or Ron.
Harry on the other hand had to wait for two house elves to apparate a piano outside, before he could sit to play. Taking only a moment to settle himself and perfect his posture, he began to play a haunting melody, which stole the attention of everyone able to hear it. Because they were outside and in a very public area of the castle, many coven members found their way to the yard, creating the affects of an outdoors concert.
Not even the slightest bit aware of this fact now that his fingers were flitting across the keys off the piano like an old lover, Harry continued on. His attention was on the music and his breathing, which was setting the pace of his music.
The crowed was in a rush, everyone looking on at the swaying man sitting in front of the piano like it were merely an extension of his heart and body. No one spoke, barely anyone dared to breath, and even the Dursley's were catured by the sounds.
It was almost as if the boy had laced is magic into the notes of the music. But then he started to sing. Any one holding their breath was left to gasp for more, those who were moving settled, and even the birds stopped their own songs to listen.
The song itself was set up like a conversation, the different octaves used to differentiate the characters, a masculine side, a feminine side, and one right in the middle of the two, the main character in the conversation and the one the other two are apparently speaking to.
It seemed to be a dialogue on Harry's feelings for himself, his death and those around him. the two sides on the higher and lower toned ends of the piano seemed to be arguing for the positives of Harry's character, as if he were insecure and they were there to boost his confidence.
"What does that person have that you don't have double?" the masculine tones of the song rang through, pulling the audience in towards the small man sitting in front of the large istrument.
"They can't hold a candle to the beauty of your smile--" the feminine voice sang, Harry's voice becoming a lilting inflection, trying to lift the mood.
It was almost as if these were parts of himself he was only now letting out.
"How about a pulse?" He sang, depressing those around them as if they felt what he did. It was as if his voice were forcing others to relate to the feelings he was revealing.
The song continues, using phrases Harry was likely told by people he knew, trying to encourage him. Soon the music changes. "If he only knew the you that we know..." He sang one hand on either end of the keys, as if the two parts were singing together.
It slows to a brokenhearted pace, weighing heavily on the very air around them.
"If I touch a burning candle, I can feel no pain,
If you cut me with a knife it's still the same.
And I know that their heart's beating,
And I know that I am dead,
But the pain here that I feel,
Try and tell me it's not real,
For it seems that I still have some tears to shed."
The music becomes more upbeat, showing a clear contrast in the mental state of the characters. Soon the other two come in to reassure Harry that he is more than enough, that life is short and once it ends for the fourth unnamed party, that they will be on more even terms, and Harry would have the advantage. The whole song was romantic, melancholy and somehow cleansing for those undead who were listening.
"Overrated!" The masculine voice speaks up.
"Overblown!" The feminine one chimes in.
"If only he could see how special you can be... If he only knew the you that we know..." The keys meshed together again as the two entities sang together for a final time.
Yet again, the song becomes slower and more oppressive as the final thoughts are sung, as if the two voices attempts to help him have fallen on deaf ears.
"If I touch a burning candle I can feel no pain,
In the ice or in the sun it's still the same...
Yet I feel my heart is aching,
Though it doesn't beat it's breaking,
And the pain here that I feel--
Try and tell me it's not real--
I know that I am dead,
But it seems that I still have some tears to shed..."
And with that and a few last sombre notes, the song ends and everyone is lifted from a trance, as if their minds had been held captive by the unbearably despondent music. Harry was not the best at singing, even he could admit that, but his voice carried and he had found a nice balance with it. It was more than enough to count the singing as a secondary talent to playing the large ebony piano.
Sudden applause pulls Harry out of his mind, and he stands, remembering in time to bow thankfully to his audience and to thank the elves for their help, before taking a place beside his family.
They had heard parts of this song before, and they had been the ones to speak some of those words to him. They were just unsure of how to feel when it was all put together in this way. It felt as though they were only helping him with his smaller problems, and he had been hiding a pain that they really could do nothing to help heal.
All of it spelled his insecurities when it came to romance, as if nothing could make him feel like he were enough for another to love him. But his bright smile when he faced them all after his performance looked light. The song having swept away the remnants of his dissonance.
Even Severus had to take a deep breath before dismissing everyone to continue on with their days. He wanted to hold his mate and simply be, so after the younger man was done speaking to his family, and a few members of the coven, he sequestered the smaller mans attention and time by taking him to the study.
Dudley tagged along after a few words from Severus, and followed the two towards the study he had never been in.
Once in the room, Severus moved Harry onto his lap and motioned Dudley to sit in the chair across from his desk. He ordered refreshments and once Harry was settled, began to speak.
He could tell that his mate was emotionally drained, and that his magic had in fact bled into the keys as he played, so he was a bit magically exhausted as well. Harry did not care move, because he could tell that this was Severus' instincts coming out so he acquiesced to his dominant mate's actions. But the discussion they had ignored last night needed to be brought up today.
Dudley blushed at the display in front of him, but if the two were going to help him, he could ignore the informality at the moment.
So he looked around the room as if he had anything else to keep his attention away from the protective man and his submissive counterpart. The eldest man did not mind that the other looked away while they held their conversation, mostly because it put Harry at ease over the fact that they were not alone.
But in time he would get over that, as he would be submissive to his elder mate for the rest of their lives, or as long as the vampire would have him. The refreshments were slowly eaten or drank as the three spoke about potential actions to take against the two eldest Dursleys.
"Hmm... and do you have any qualms about their deaths?" Severus spoke nonchalantly, his voice deathly quiet. He wanted to do so much to the two abusive parents, but without permission from their son, he knew Harry would feel bad about their deaths. The man just could not weigh in his own trauma, and seemed to think he himself was to blame rather than their negligence.
But it did not matter what he was thinking at that point, because Dudley's eyes lit up, and he breathed easier. "Lord Prince, of course I don't mind. They may have tried to raise me, and I will surely mourn the parents I never had, but if they passed or dissapeared before this weeks end, I could leave on my own terms."
He acted as if he had hit the jackpot, but Harry would have to burst his shortlived bubble.
Shaking his head he replied slowly; "That would cast suspicions on not only ourselves, but on your coven and anyone else within the castle in the eyes of the Ministry. Not to mention my family is quite deceased and would be subjected to tests or experiments or something of the like. Furthermore, I would be barred from participating in their deaths because of my own laws against it."
Severus nodded, and sat more comfortably-- shifting Harry in his lap as he did-- before calling Grace to his side.
The little elf arrived and giggled at the cute sight of her master acting as her master to be's seat. "Yes Lord Prince?" She asked, eyes wide and sparkling with mirth.
"I would like for you to summon the Potter family to my study, Grace. Inform them that we have urgent business to attend to at once, and their presence would be most appreciated." The three of them could only plan so much, and fresh perspectives were needed in order to gain a simple and effective way to rid the world of Vernon and Petunia Dursley.
Once Grace was gone, Harry debated on whether or not to move from his mates comforting embrace, but decided against it. Instead he snuggled in further and closed his ears to any protests they might recieve.
Which is why he was flabbergasted that no one even looked in their direction. It was soothing to think that they had finally given up, but offputting that they looked at him as if they knew he would be in this position. It made a wave of red flush his cheeks, but he said nothing about the situation. A silencing charm was set up around the room and everyone settled in for this urgent business.
A moment passed before Severus started the conversation, informing the undead family that Dudley would be working with them to get a few things out of their hair, in exchange for helping to release him from his father's oppressive hold.
It took some arguing, a bit of discussion and some metaphorical arm twisting to get James, Sirius, Lily, and Remus on board with helping the muggle man who had shamelessly tortured the little lord of the family. After hearing the whole story from his side, the magical folk stopped sneering and non magically cursing the boy for his role in Harry's life. Instead they were glad he had buried their child and godchild, and especially for the fact that he had never reported Harry's death.
The conversation moved on to how to get rid of the Dursleys. Moving from, "Just kill them, no one will report them if it is not mandatory that they do so to anyone other than yourself!" This was Lily, the protective mother bear instinct showing through.
To "Exile them, and strip them of everything they own. Make them start again as beggars or something of the like." Remus said attempting to curb his animal instinct to torture the two muggles.
"Then what if you make them your slaves. There would be nothing they could do to fight your will or escape the castle." Dudley said, "I don't usually condone these things but I feel they would learn something from it."
"They would learn nothing." Harry said sadly, wishing that to be the case. "And besides, they would still have the ability to harm others if they are still here as time goes by."
The conversation dulled the eyes of one albus Dumbledore. He felt defeated in the face of such anger, yet he knew it had to be done. They had irreversibly damaged Harry. Burned his wings and left him to fall back to earth a dead and broken man. It was time for their comeuppance, and he would be damned by the gods if he stood in the way of that.
The idea was repulsive and left a sour taste in everyone's mouth. Silence overtook the room until a distinctly male voice spoke up with his idea.
"Do allow them time to slip up, Severus." Albus suggested, gaining everyone's attention. It sounded almost too crazy to believe, but it made sense. "Once they have chosen their path, you will be permitted by law to take it into your, or your covens, own hands."
Severus thought it over for a moment before presenting his question. "And what of after. They would be allowed to roam after death?"
"From there they will be processed below ground and be charged for their past deeds against one of its citizens. We will deal with the rest." Albus supplied. "Besides my dear boy, we are not lawless." A smile broke past his lips, showing that he was joking, especially as Severus did not mean it that way.
The twinkle in his eyes had come back full force, the intent clear though his smile was still benevolent and grandfatherly. It was the look of a wolf wearing sheeps clothing.
Everyone in the room agreed that it would be advantageous to stick to that plan, but the remaining problem was how could they manipulate the situation to work on their schedules?
This time it was Elder who held the answer.
Running his hand down his long beard, he spoke, "If Mr. Dursley here speaks to them about poisoning Lord Prince in three days time, added onto increased pranks from the Weasley boys..." He paused to scratch his skull, having momentarily lost his train of thought.
What did you expect from a skeleton without a brain? "And if Mr. Dursley were to self sabotage just a bit during the tests, they may become desperate enough to do just that."
It was a semi solid plan, which the group worked on for a few more hours until lunch came along and pulled them from the study.
The potters left with the promise to speak with the Weasley's about some parts of the plan. Harry, Dudley, and Severus could not be anywhere near them when they spoke about it, and the potters had to be vague enough to not tip anyone off.
Not to mention that they could not say either of their names when the conversation arose.
It was going to be a good week for them, and a very bad week for the Dursley matriarch and an especially bad one for the Dursley patriarch.
Harry had changed from the blue ensemble into a baby blue dress, the corset and corset cover matching with a silver trim, and the bottom of the dress had lace detailing. Long sleeves and a conservative collar, with conjured Irises weaved into a flower crown on his head. She wore almost no jewelry, and no makeup, with flats as her shoe of choice. The only thing on her was the handmade necklace Severus gifted her during her first stay in the castle.
A cape finished off the look, a decidedly masculine accent to the feminine garb, but she did not care.
The Lady of the Potter estate was on her way out into the gardens to have tea with the other women, save for Petunia who feigned illness in order to plan with her husband and son. As if the youngest Dursley would not be reporting back to Harriette and Severus that very same night.
She had to laugh at this thought, because she could not wait to see the looks on their faces when the man betrays them. On the other hand, if Dudley was actually about to betray her, her mate and her family, she would not hold back on the dark magic. It is made abundantly clear in the bylaws of the underworld that she could harm them, so long as someone living dealt the final fatal blow.
Come what may she would have her revenge.
However, she shook off those thoughts and carried on her way to the garden, smiling and greeting anyone she passed. A few spoke to her with messages for Severus, which she promised to get to him by dinner, but other than that she was unhindered on her walk.
Getting to the area where she would meet with the ladies, she was hit suddenly by a warmth in her chest. That these people cared for her, and were there for her, was staggering to think about.
It would be a cold century in hell before she even considered letting this feeling go. But as she came up to the table, all thoughts of hell or revenge left her mind, and she sat down at the head of the small rectangular table ready to speak about anything and everything with these women.
On the left of her chair was her mother Lily, serving everyone tea and finger sandwiches. To Harriette's right was Molly, who summoned a few instruments to play themselves while they spoke. Next to Lily was Hermione, who set down a book of poetry once the final lady, Harriette, had arrived. Ginerva was seated next to her mother, and across from Fleur who was setting a napkin to rights on her lap. In all it was a sizable group having tea, and conversations were admittedly more hushed and personal.
There was so much they wanted-- and needed-- to talk about.