A/N- Here's chapter 2 and thanks for all the favorites and follows! So I forgot to put some major things in last chapter's a/n. First off, and I'm afraid that I'm going to lose like half of everybody when I say this, but I this will never be Harry/Slash, Harry/Hermione, or Harry/Ginny. Because Harry/Ginny is very weird, Harry/Slash is not my thing, and there are too many Harry/Hermione.
And believe it or not, 365 days ago was the first time I ever experienced Harry Potter. I know. That's really sad. So happy anniversary to me! And I've finally done something with my profile.
By the way, if you still know where this story is going after this, I'll be rather surprised. But enough from me, let's get this going!
Chapter 2- Secrets
January 16th, 1996
Harry lay in the bed he'd been given at the Order's headquarters. The bed might've been comfortable, but it was simply too soft. He had been forced to sleep on the floor most of the time, as the springs in his 'bed' in Azkaban had poked into his back.
He hadn't really known what to expect when Professor Lupin grabbed his shoulder; Voldemort had just stated that he was innocent, and he wasn't sure what the Order's reaction would be. When they had first apparated, Harry had thought they were going to kill him.
And he still wasn't sure. The Order had arrived right before he and Lupin had and many seemed to not be terribly fond of him. A piece of paper was thrown carelessly at him, and after being ordered to read it, a large townhouse appeared. He didn't have time to wonder as he was marched straight up to this room, and locked inside. Either way, he was once again a prisoner.
He shot up from the bed when he heard a sound by the window. To his relief, it was just an owl. But who would be owling him?
Dumbledore and Sirius arrived through the floo a couple of hours later. Sirius looked terrible, and Dumbledore looked much worse.
Immediately, the Order began bombarding the two with questions, not even giving the two of them time to sit down.
Lupin immediately took control, trying to quiet the others. He had the same questions, especially those about Harry, but he knew there was time for it later.
"QUIET!" he roared, making good use of the Sonora charm.
The Order instantly quieted, looking incredulously at the usually passive Lupin.
"Thank you, Remus," Dumbledore said. Remus inclined his head slightly, although inside his inner turmoil was starting to get the better of him.
He had never been sure of Harry's guiltiness, but Dumbledore had assured him that it was so. And how could he question a man that let him go to one of the most prestigious magical schools in the world, despite his condition?
The other part of his mind argued that perhaps Voldemort had only placed Harry in their care as a plant to spy on them. But then again, Voldemort had said that he had killed Cedric. Could Voldemort have found a way around magical oaths?
Dumbledore turned to Madam Pomfrey who was sitting with a grave expression in the corner. "How are the wounded?"
"I've all of them stabled except for Miss Tonks."
"Thank you," Dumbledore's eyes looked sad, which enraged Lupin further.
"Sirius will be receiving a trial, so that takes care of one of our problems. How is Harry, Remus?" Dumbledore asked, turning to Remus.
"I wouldn't know, they made me lock him up in a room," Remus answered glaring at the rest of the Order. Many of them looked ashamed, but even he would begrudgingly admit that it was for the best until they could figure out his loyalty.
Dumbledore sighed. "And why, pray tell, do you see it fitting to do such?"
"Because he's a murderer Professor Dumbledore! He's in there planning how to murder the lot of us!" Ron yelled.
The look that overtook his friend's face admittedly frightened Remus. "HOW DARE YOU TALK OF MY GODSON THAT WAY!"
"Sirius — he's a murderer and you know it!" Ron countered his face becoming the color of his hair.
This prompted the Order meeting to dissolve into people trying to force their thoughts of Harry's innocence or guiltiness on the other.
"Everybody, please," Dumbledore shouted so he could be heard over the yells of the more aggressive members. Immediately, there was quiet, displaying just how much respect people felt for the Headmaster. "Harry is indeed innocent."
"But, but —" Hermione said sputtering, "Just because Voldemort —"
"Magical oaths cannot be fooled, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling.
"That doesn't change the fact that he opened the Chamber of Secrets and let loose Slytherin's monster upon the school," one of the lower members pointed out.
"YEAH! He almost killed Ginny and Hermione!" Ron said letting his thoughts on the matter be heard.
"I've some new information that suggests that it might not've been Harry —"
Remus had had enough of his gob's wallop. "So you told us to send him to Azkaban, and he hasn't even done anything! You told us he was guilty!" he roared, pointing threateningly at Dumbledore.
Sirius looked at Dumbledore in a new light and stepped away from Dumbledore glaring.
"REMUS! DON'T YOU DARE TALK TO THE HEADMASTER LIKE THAT! HE MAKES MISTAKES, JUST LIKE THE REST OF US!" Molly Weasley screeched. Most of the other Order members were nodding their heads in agreement with her, showing once again that most of the Wizarding populace was sheep.
Remus sat down again, his expression suddenly passive, but his anger no less diminished. Dumbledore may've been human, but this was just seemed a bit to coincidental with the rise of Voldemort.
"We shouldn't leave him alone. I'll go up and check on him," said Sirius, not waiting for Dumbledore's response.
Sirius would know best after all. He knew exactly what it was like to be recently out of Azkaban. Just one more mistake for Remus to add to his growing list.
"I think we should keep him at the Dursleys, so he'll be protected if Voldemort tries —"
"Harry's gone!" Sirius yelled, rushing back into the room.
Remus could've bashed his head into the wall. If Harry was gone, and these people still followed Dumbledore blindly, it was only doing more damage to Harry.
"Minerva," Dumbledore said, coming to his feet, "Gather the reserve Order members. Meet me at the Leaky Cauldron."
Remus and Sirius shared a glance. "We're coming to," Sirius said, speaking up for the two of them. Dumbledore looked as if he wanted to argue, but he wisely held his tongue.
Hopefully, Sirius and he could mislead the Order if Harry was indeed doing a runner.
Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed,
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.
Even the simplest things were exciting for Harry after his wrongful confinement. It had taken him nearly thirty minutes to get down the alley, his blue eyes shining with wonderment.
With a simple glamour and rearranging his name, he became Orphrey Tart—a muggleborn wizard with brown hair, blue eyes, and most importantly, no scar.
He entered Gringotts unsurely, not entirely certain of what he was to do. His hand clenched around the letter he held in his hand, staring at the glaring goblins.
Harry walked up to the same teller he had went to with Hagrid on his first trip to Diagon Alley. "Uhhm…Mr. Goblin, sir," Harry said nervously, trying to get the irritable creature's attention.
The goblin glanced at him, sneered, and went back to whatever he was doing. Goblins were just such wonderful creatures that filled Harry with joy.
Going for a different approach, Harry placed—a bit rudely he would admit—the parchment in front of the documents the still unnamed goblin was looking over. "I received this letter asking if I could come to the bank. Could you perhaps help me?"
A bit of sucking up never hurt, especially considering Harry's previous rudeness. The goblin looked up, eyes wide, probably looking for Harry's scar.
"Glamour," Harry whispered.
The goblin nodded in understanding. "Follow me, Mr…?" the goblin said, waiting for Harry's fake name.
"Tart."
"Very well. Follow me, Mr. Tart."
The goblin led him past the main teller, into the rear of the bank. Harry was surprised to find a well-decorated, almost human-like, hallway. Harry was forced to trot to keep up with the goblin; they may be small, but they're fast little buggers.
The hallway forked just a little ways down, and they took the right path. A little ways more and the goblin abruptly stopped, causing Harry to make use of his evasion skills.
The teller looked at him amusedly before opening the well-polished wood door. The door had some sort of seal on it; he'd seen it before but he couldn't place where.
"Here is Mr. Potter, Nagnok," the goblin said, only letting his head be seen by the other goblin in the room.
"Ah…yes…thank you, Bogrod. You are dismissed." The goblin named Bogrod nodded his head towards his colleague and left, heading back down the direction he came.
Harry had yet to enter the room; he was exhausted from his short journey. Even though he wasn't as out of shape as the average prisoner, he certainly wasn't winning any awards in his current condition.
"Mr. Potter — if you could please join me in my office," the goblin named Nagnok called. Harry blushed, forgetting that it was not just his time that was being wasted.
Harry stood up as quickly as possible, and slumped into the plush, Gryffindor red chair that faced the aging goblin. The door closed behind him, magically of course.
"I've been trying to contact you for ages now," Nagnok said, smiling. While it was a terrifying display, Harry immediately liked this goblin.
"I've been a bit busy lately."
"I can tell," the goblin barked a laugh before sliding the Daily Prophet across the table; "you've made the front page."
Harry investigated the paper and found that the goblin was indeed correct. At least he knew he had somebody partially on his side; Dumbledore must've told that lady he was innocent.
The boy-who-lived…innocent?
At precisely seven o'clock this morning, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement received a dispatch from Azkaban prison. The prison was under attack.
Eight units of hit wizards arrived on the scene shortly after eight o'clock, having had problems breaking through the wards. What they arrived to was unimaginable.
The prison had been turned into a war ground between death eaters and a vigilante group led by Albus Dumbledore. While that was certainly surprising, the most important discovery was the leader of the death eaters: Lord Voldemort.
That's right loyal readers. Lord Voldemort is back. Harry Potter had not been lying at all. Mr. Potter has been cleared of all charges and is assumedly resting at home.
On behalf of the Daily Prophet, we thank you Mr. Potter for being so brave and standing up for what you believed in!
Amelia slammed the paper down on her desk and glared at her most accomplished auror—Kingsley Shacklebolt.
"How in the hell did they get this information!"
"At least they actually put the truth —"
"A TRUTH THAT'S GOING TO SCARE PEOPLE SHITLESS!" she roared. Amelia was not happy with several people right now—not at Kingsley, who had and still was her best friend—and that never mixes well with redheads.
"I want the names of every hit wizard that has left this building prior to nine o'clock," she ordered, unlocking the top drawer of her desk.
Kingsley was still there, watching her warily. Hadn't she just told him to go?
"Get out," she growled. Kingsley didn't need another word and skedaddled from the room. He knew not to mess with her when she was mad.
Amelia sighed and pulled out a bottle of firewhiskey from her desk. Firewhiskey made everything better.
'I believed in my freedom, if that's what they meant,' Harry thought grimly as he read the final line of the prophet.
"I suppose so, Mr. Nagnok."
"Unfortunately, this is not why I summoned you here," Nagnok said, his voice slipping into a business type tone.
"Is there a problem, sir?" Harry asked quizzically.
"There are…some discrepancies with your account." Nagnok grimaced as he said discrepancies, as if just saying the word left a bad taste in his mouth.
"I'm afraid I don't know what that means, sir," Harry said blushing. He'd never heard the word in his life though, he probably wouldn't have remembered even if he had.
Nagnok grimaced. "To put it lightly, someone has been stealing from your vaults."
There were so many things wrong with that sentence. "First off, I've only one vault. Secondly, I thought Gringotts was impossible to break into?"
"The Potters are an old family; as old as the Blacks to be exact. They've accumulated quite a lot of gold, and it couldn't all fit in that vault at all," Nagnok explained.
"But this isn't your biggest problem; in fact, it may not be your problem at all."
Let's see. Harry's vaults were being stolen from, it sounds as if they had yet to catch the culprit, but apparently, that might not be his problem. It sounded a good bit like his bloody problem.
What could be worse than somebody stealing from him while he was in a hellhole? That pretty much takes the cake doesn't it?
"And what would that problem be?" Harry asked cautiously.
Nagnok sighed, and Harry got a feeling that he was not going to enjoy this very much.
"Long or short version?" Nagnok asked, looking more than a bit uncomfortable.
After the events of the morning—it wasn't even noon yet—Harry was rather tired, and didn't fancy a long chat. "Short, please."
Nagnok sucked in a deep breath—he acted more like a human than a goblin—and began: "Now keep in mind that it's only a theory. I cannot stress the importance of that sentence enough." He stopped and waited for Harry's acknowledgement.
"Alright, go ahead."
"This is a special piece of parchment," Nagnok said placing it in front of Harry. "A few drops of your blood and it will tell you your family history, parents, siblings and families you're descended from."
Nagnok handed Harry a small knife so he could prick his finger. Harry looked at it uncertainly; he never had been terribly fond of blood, even though it usually meant the pain would retreat, if only till the next day.
"It shouldn't hurt," Nagnok said, urging him on.
Harry winced as he sliced his finger and held it over the parchment. After the tenth drop of blood Nagnok pulled the parchment away from him. Nagnok sighed, though rather in relief or in distress, Harry could not tell.
"Here," Nagnok said, handing it over. Harry was reluctant of what he'd find; life had never been easy, so why would that change now.
Name: Harry James Potter (adopted), Herakles Salazar Black (Riddle)
Parents: Tom Marvolo Riddle, Bellatrix Druella Lestrange nee Black
Siblings: None
Marriage Contract: Amelia Susan Bones
"You don't actually believe this rubbish, do you?" Harry asked sweating profusely. He knew he had bad luck, but this was ridiculous.
"Unfortunately, Harry, it's the truth. Blood cannot be fooled in the magical world," Nagnok said sighing, and Harry noticed how he went from being called Mr. Potter to Harry. It was a suitable nickname.
"But everyone says I look just like James and Lily Potter! How could I —"
"I assume you have a glamour on you. We can take care of that if you would like?"
As much as Harry would like the stability, it was an insult to James and Lily Potter to continue walking around with their features. Besides, Harry had learned to just take life at face value. He could cry and scream and fuss, but it wouldn't change the fact that his parents were not who he thought they were.
"Please, sir. But are you certain? They say I have my parent's personalities," Harry countered, in some way trying to prove it was an elaborate joke by Sirius.
Nagnok chuckled. "I remember a young Bellatrix coming to Gringotts. She was just as timid as you are."
Harry was surprised. Bellatrix Lestrange timid? That was rather absurd.
Nagnok offered no more room for argument as he immediately started to remove the glamour. Goblins apparently didn't have to use wands as Nagnok simply brought his hand up, which almost immediately seemed to hit resistance, with Nagnok struggling to push through.
Harry could feel something—that can only be described as magic—leaving his skin. The feeling went down to his bones, and he grunted in pain as they seemed to move and grow.
Fortunately, Nagnok finished quickly, breathing heavily. "That was quite the glamour, Harry. Very complex magic, courtesy of Lily Potter no doubt," he said chuckling.
Harry opened his eyes, and Nagnok gasped. "Would you like to see?"
Harry nodded unsurely. This was his new look after all. He just hoped he didn't get Voldemort's horrible red eyes.
Nagnok conjured a large mirror in front of him. He had been hoping that he would get the eyes that Tom had before he became all evil—onyx. Unfortunately, he had Lestra—his mother's deep violet eyes. Hell, he looked just like her—except for Riddle's ebony hair.
The gravity of the situation finally made its way to the forefront of his mind. His father had killed his adopted parents, had tried to kill him multiple times, and had—admittedly—unintentionally thrown him in Azkaban. A great story to tell his children…
"Wait a second!" Harry shouted remembering something important. "What's this about a marriage contract?"
"You're to be married to Amelia Bones. A real firecracker that one! And she's the head of the magical law enforcement department—a convenient union for one who plans on fighting a war."
"Oh…"
There was a knock on the door, one that was rather urgent it seemed. "In fact, there she is now."
Amelia took another swig from her bottle of firewhiskey. She needed to get back to work; there was always plenty to come by in her occupation.
Ever since the death of her entire family by You-Know-Who, it had been her only comfort. Well there was her niece Susan, but she probably only made it worse. She looked so much like her father.
She took another drink; she really should stop; it wouldn't do for her to get pissed at work.
There was a knock on her door and Amelia quickly moved the bottle out of sight. It was probably that bumbling idiot Fudge, wanting to remove more funding from her already underfunded department.
"Come in," she said with authority that few could challenge.
She was surprised to find that it was just a messenger boy—probably bringing her something an owl had dropped off at the front desk. He dropped the letter on her desk and turned to leave.
Amelia noted red hair and said, "Thank you, Weasley," she said, assuming it was Fudge's junior assistant.
"It's actually Weatherby, ma'am," he corrected. "Why does everybody call me, Weasley?" he muttered, exiting the room.
She opened the letter expecting it to be from Susan. Amelia recognized the Gringotts seal and immediately opened it, worried there might be a problem with her account.
Instead, it read:
Dear Lady Bones,
We are to inform you that the marriage contract between House Black and House Bones has been reinstated. If rejected, both parties will witness the loss of no less than half of their magic.
You are needed immediately at Gringotts. Failure to do so will forfeit the contract.
Well…shit.
Amelia quickly poked her head out of her office, looking for her secretary. Finding her sitting dutifully behind her desk, she said, "I've got to go out. Familial matters."
"Something wrong with Susan?"
The only person who knew more about her than Kingsley was her secretary, a muggleborn witch, Anna Titus. Despite their positions as superior and subordinate (in their jobs of course) they had maintained a strong friendship.
She knew it there was anyone she could trust, it was Anna. But instead, Amelia only responded vaguely, "Something like that."
She apparated on the spot, having the liberty to do so since she was a department head. The job definitely had its perks.
She arrived next to Gringotts with perfect balance, having done this for years. An interesting scene was developing before her at the gates of the bank. Dumbledore and some of his goons were foolishly trying to force their way into the bank. Sounded like a quick way to start another goblin rebellion.
"What is the meaning of this?" she yelled, furious that the leading diplomat in the world was prodding this fragile peace.
"Madam Bones," Dumbledore greeted inclining his head ever so slightly, "what are the chances that we'd see each other twice in the same hour?"
"You didn't answer my question, Dumbledore."
He sighed, a glint of sadness in his eyes. "Mr. Potter seems to have gone missing. Appears to have done a runner. We were hoping to catch him at the bank, but the goblins are declining our entry."
"It seems I made the wrong decision, putting him in your care."
"It does seem that way…"
"Well Dumbledore, I must be off. But please do find Mr. Potter, or I'll be forced to find him for you," she said, her hint reaching the much older man.
Amelia turned and marched into the bank, becoming increasingly nervous as she came closer to the main teller. Goblins had always frightened her, and Binn's incessant monologues about the rebellions hadn't helped her fear at all.
"May I help you," the goblin said sneering.
Amelia shrunk back, causing the goblin to grin wickedly. She was the head of the Department of Law Enforcement! She shouldn't be scared of a goblin. These tellers were only nasty because of having to deal with wizards like Malfoy. Her account manager was much friendlier.
"I'm here to see, Nagnok. I received this letter from him," she said steeling herself and placing the letter before the goblin.
The goblin snatched it up, read it, gave a feral grin, and pointed to the hallway behind him. "Take a right at the fork. It's the tenth door on the right," he directed unclearly.
Amelia followed his directions to the letter, stopping in front of a door that had the Potter crest on it. This was the right room, right?
The fact that she was to be married finally hit her. Before, she had only thought of the loss of her magic. Who was this Black fellow? Was he a death eater? She knocked on the door, urgently wanting to find out. This was the rest of her life after all.
Better to embrace it than to lose the majority of her magic. If this guy was a death eater, all she'd have to do is prove and the contract would be void. And if he wasn't…Blacks weren't the most coveted people in Britain because they were ugly by any means. No, quite the opposite.
"Come in." The dreaded words were spoken from the other side of the door. A part of her longed to have someone to be with; she was thirty-three after all. Most of her friends who had survived the war had already settled down and had a family. Sure, she had Susan who was like a daughter to her, but…it just wasn't the same. Maybe, if this all worked out…
She had stalled long enough; it was time. She steeled her nerves and put on her practiced to perfection pure-blood mask, and opened the door.
There were two occupants in the room, a goblin—most likely Nagnok, and her husband-to-be. He turned around and she gasped as she saw his sunken cheeks and sullen violet eyes. If it wasn't for his hair, she would've been sure that she was looking at Bellatrix Lestrange.
"Hello, Madam Bones. Please take a seat," Nagnok said, pointing to the other chair.
She sat down stiffly, staring at the face of one of her worst nightmares. It was Lestrange who had killed her parents, and Susan's as well, while a girl of twenty was held down in the corner. It was a miracle that she'd been able to grab baby Susan and portkey to safety.
"Meet your husband-to-be, Herakles Black, formerly known as Harry Potter," Nagnok introduced. "And this is Amelia Bones, your wife-to-be, Harry."
"Nice to meet you," Harry said, avoiding her incredulous gaze.
"Potter," Amelia murmured.
"Yes, it seems that Harry was adopted by the Potters, not truly their child. Which brings us to our next problem, which is another reason why I called you here Madam Bones; the Potter's did not leave a will."
"They didn't?" Amelia gasped.
"Unfortunately not. However, Harry is legally listed as their heir. He can —"
"I see what this is. He has to be an adult to take over any houses?" Amelia interrupted. This was some shit that Malfoy had passed through a few years ago.
Nagnok nodded.
"And as a legal adult and his fiancée, I can give consent for him to take over his houses?"
Nagnok nodded once more, grinning wildly.
"Very clever, Master goblin. May I ask which houses he stands to inherit?"
Harry was looking between the two of them with evident confusion. Hadn't Dumbledore told him of pure-blood houses and traditions?
"He is currently able to become Lord Potter and Lord Black. He is heir to House Gaunt and 2nd in line to the heirship of House Rosier," Nagnok explained.
"Quite an impressive resume," Amelia joked to Harry. That truly was how most departments hired after all. Harry didn't even laugh; he was focused solely on Nagnok.
"Please sign here," Nagnok said before placing an identical paper beside it, "and here." Amelia quickly signed in the allotted spots.
"That should be about it," Nagnok said. "I've lots of paper work to do; do you have anymore questions?"
"I've one," Amelia said after a small period of silence. "I personally saw Lily Potter pregnant. How can Harry not be her child?"
"Unfortunately, I cannot answer your question. All I know is that young Harry here was indeed adopted and a powerful, complicated glamour placed on him."
Another short period of silence before Amelia came up with another question, "What are the terms of the marriage contract?"
"Oh yes, I almost forgot," Nagnok murmured looking for the contract. Finding it he said, "It's a mutual agreement; therefore, the loss of magic for both sides. It is never explicitly stated that a consummation is ever needed, though you must be married in six months time at the latest. The only way out is through death."
Amelia sighed contentedly. It was one of the simplest things she'd heard all day. Yet then again, it wasn't. How was she to tell Susan that one of her former classmates was to be her new uncle? At least she had some time before she had to face her.
"I think this sums up our meeting, Master Nagnok," Amelia finally said.
"Indeed. I shall be sending the financial records of both houses to you shortly. And be sure to stay safe," the friendly but devious goblin advised, suddenly serious.
"Do we have permission to apparate from your office?" Amelia asked politely. It was usually allowed, but it was always be better to be certain.
"Of course."
Amelia grabbed her fiancé's shoulder and apparated to Bones Manor. Upon arrival, Harry stumbled, but managed to reassert control of his body—though with great difficulty. He must be completely knackered after such an eventful day, and it was only now nearing noon.
"You must be exhausted. Let's get you up to one of the rooms, dear." She blushed as she said 'dear' most likely meaning it in a motherly fashion.
The room that they had arrived in—most likely a foyer—was decorated like he assumed most pure-blood homes would be like, lavishly. It wasn't terribly large, but still bigger than—perhaps—his dorm at Hogwarts.
What he noticed almost immediately was the tapestry of the Bones family. He noted with respect that the family proudly displayed their members who had married muggleborns, though that was only among the feeder lines, the main line remained pure.
Madam Bones led him up some stairs to the room which he would be occupying the duration of his time here. He thanked her, and she left, suddenly seeming quite nervous around him.
He'd be a fool to say he wasn't attracted to the older woman. She was pleasant, quite attractive—especially for her age, and that was before mentioning that amazing bust…
But putting aside his foolish teenage hormones, Harry knew the cold, hard truth. He knew she didn't want anything to do with him; she was simply doing this because of obligations.
Harry prided himself with being a realist. He was getting trapped in a loveless marriage for the rest of his life, and he'd probably only be treated slightly better here than with the Dursleys. He was ruining her life after all. She just didn't understand it yet, but she would eventually. Then again, there was a rather good chance that he wouldn't survive past sixteen, with Voldemort back and all.
Harry lay down on the pink and black decorated bed, finally letting sleep claim him.
Voldemort exited Potter's mind, a shocked but gleeful expression on his face. Turns out, he wasn't a Potter at all, but his son! And best of all, he was nearly broken, longing for family. He could use this to his advantage.
He never had wanted an heir. Heirs always end up trying to seize the power that their fathers had worked so hard for.
So when he found out Bellatrix was pregnant after one of their evening frolics, he ordered that she get rid of it. Being the pure-blooded witch that she was, she knew nothing of the muggle world—much less abortion.
Bellatrix had birthed the child and abandoned it, after naming it apparently. She would be punished severely for this. No wonder the killing curse had rebounded! Probably some sort of stupid family magic.
But back to the plan. He'd have the child bring his fiancée—who just happened to be the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement—and then have him kill Dumbledore; it would be a beautiful sight; then he would kill the child, wiping out his only opposition with only having to lift a single hand. He knew it was a brilliant idea to free the boy.
A/N- I was going to wait on the whole different parents thing till later, but I figured now was as good a time as any. I know Bellatrix's eyes are supposed to be brown, but violet is just so unique.
Don't forget to review!
