Chapter 92 – of Friends and Family
''If Voldemort asks you to hand over one of my belongings again, please don't do so without asking me,'' Harry seriously spoke the next morning. Ron's smile slipped from his face and a red tinge was already spreading on his neck. Nervously, he took the invisibility cloak that Harry had pushed in his hands again.
''Oh… I… He seemed concerned about your safety and said this would- this would protect you. As you'd used it in that ritual too-''
''I'm not blaming you for anything,'' Harry hurried to say. ''Voldemort was very exact with his wording in the most Slytherin way.'' He sighed and tried not to let too much irritation show. ''The cloak did protect me, but there'd have been no need for it hadn't Voldemort brought it with him in the first place. Perhaps it's time I give you a basic overview on Necromancy so you understand-'' he mused, and was a bit thrown off guard when Ron's eyes brightened at the prospect.
''That would be wicked!''
Finding a quiet spot wasn't difficult today. Voldemort had left early, always wanting to have his own eyes and wand everywhere rather than leaving it to others. It was one of those traits Harry admired his partner for, even if others would label it paranoia. He wished it would be easier to drift through their link and see through Voldemort's eyes, but so far it had only happened either accidentally or been limited to when they were physically close. The accidental tumbling into each other's minds even when far away was telling about the possibilities, but neither of them had brought it up as something to put a concentrated effort in as their time was better spent on the other numerous tasks at hand for now. Maybe in the future, they could explore their mental connection some more.
Sirius and Barty weren't home either, visiting Greyback's pack today, both for very different reasons. Having practically the entire house available, Harry was instantly drawn towards the sunny, earth-scented veranda, plopping down on the dusty ground with ease. It was one of the few places that did not differ so much from the very first time he'd entered the house, untouched by Voldemort's usual need for redesigning everything in sight. Sure, the cracked pots had been repaired and the plants that had withered away after years of neglect had been either nursed back to health or replaced, but the glass panes above still had a light coating of patches with colourful lichen and the tiles were the same weathered beige as they'd always been.
''Looks like Greenhouse one,'' Ron commented, looking around. ''Or at least I hope so. No strangling vines or bushes shooting thorns at us?''
Harry laughed. ''That would be pretty distracting, considering this place is often used for more elaborate rituals.''
''Such as?''
Figuring it couldn't hurt to recount his tales, Harry described some of the more memorable rituals he'd taken part in here: how he'd received the magical shields that hurled back any damage caused by harmful intent to the attacker, how he'd first learned to connect to Nagini by transferring his mind into her body, how Voldemort had bound Harry's shadow when he'd been so careless as to lose it, how they'd celebrated Lughnasadh here, and Yule… By the end, Ron was whistling, clearly deeply impressed. ''Didn't know half of that was possible,'' he stated, then reconsidered. ''Though I suppose some of these things, like becoming one with his snake, only were because of your connection to You-Know-Who, right?''
''Exactly. And the celebratory rituals were only so intense because he is a Lord of Magic. I doubt the same effects occur when people try this without his presence. I hope you can participate in the next feast so you can really understand the difference.''
''Right, Litha is only a few weeks away,'' Ron muttered, reminding Harry that the Weasleys had at one point celebrated these feasts too. A shame they hadn't anymore when their children had been older.
''I Haven't had the opportunity to celebrate this one before either as we were still at Hogwarts last year on that date. Although some of the Beauxbatons students celebrated it on the Hogwarts grounds,'' he recalled. ''They had this gigantic wooden dragon that was set aflame, quite the shock after I'd had to face a real one,'' he grinned. The memory felt tainted, however, by the events that had surrounded it. ''Dixie insisted that I participate,'' he softly admitted. ''I was one of the few Hogwarts students allowed to partake even briefly, only because of a false idea of friendship that had been implanted in her mind. Most of the time I truly love magic, but when something like this happens, it terrifies me to know how others use it. Including people I consider friends and family.''
Not to even mention his partner… a thought he saw reflected in Ron's face, who was surprisingly enough too tactful to mention it.
''She's okay though, isn't she?''
''I don't know,'' Harry honestly replied. ''Barty insinuated that both she and her mother would have long-term mental effects from the constant obliviate charms used last summer. Didn't sound particularly positive. It's one of the things that spurred me to delve deeper into healing, so that when I face Dixie again, I can reverse the damage done, but there's frustratingly little known about magic used to heal the mind. I'd kind of hoped to have figured out more via Necromancy, as in that branch, one has to observe mind, soul and body as separate entities, but I fear it's been less helpful than I'd imagined it would be. When you needed help after our break-in at the Ministry, Voldemort explained that healing your mind and body were intertwined. During life, it doesn't seem so simple as to isolate the mind and ignore its inherent connection to the brain.''
''So how does that work with Necromancy?''
The topic was a bit too broad to briefly summarise, but Harry did his best anyways, explaining to Ron what he'd studied about the basics of the Art. How the different components of a person could be used, how the other side looked, and where his invisibility cloak came in. ''Everyone has a different veil that ties them to this earth while crossing over to the other side. Not to be confused with the Veil, which is a synonym for the Shroud that separates our world and the next.'' He wanted to mention the other Veil too, the one they'd seen at the Ministry, but Harry suspected it was something of a concentrated spot of thinned Shroud where one could directly pass through regardless of the time of the year. He hadn't mentioned this theory to Voldemort yet, as it was useless without being able to return to the Death Chamber for further study.
''And why was he so insistent on having your invisibility cloak at hand yesterday? You only told me that the both of you were checking out a cave to set up something for Dumbledore.''
Grimacing, Harry looked away, peering outside where he could just see part of his parent's gravestones. ''That cave used to hold something of great importance to Voldemort, something Dumbledore wishes to get his hands on as leverage to 'free' us, apparently. Well, he never planned on actually handing it over, only dangling it in front of Voldemort as a distraction, but that plan won't fly. No idea what Dumbledore's back-up plan is regarding that.'' He wondered how to best word any of this. The existence of the Horcruxes that ensured his partner's – and his own – immortality were the only topic he'd still kept a secret from them, apart from hinting at having deep connections that bound them. ''It's an item similar to Voldemort's diary,'' he spoke, figuring that would explain it best. From the way Ron paled, it became crystal clear that his friend recalled those events in stark detail. Harry almost wanted to kick himself. Ginny had almost died that night, almost paid the price for Voldemort's selfishness.
''It's not actually in that cave anymore,'' he hurried to explain. ''Voldemort removed it to keep it safe somewhere else, but Dumbledore is convinced it's still there and we've kept him in that belief to stall time, leaving a fake in its place. There are still many different kinds of magical protection surrounding it, including some that are possibly lethal. As we agreed that it'd be counterproductive to actually kill Dumbledore, I insisted to change some of them into less deadly measures. There's a potion one has to drink to proceed, that causes both thirst and insanity based off fear for a duration of time. Without anyone else there as a guard, one would wander around wildly in search for either an escape or water and get caught by – by Inferi. Walking corpses with inhuman strength and speed,'' Harry clarified at Ron's puzzled look. ''Anyways, Dumbledore has already seen the potion, but couldn't take a sample of it. Snape won even more time by pretending he could possibly create an antidote. That was a bluff as this potion apparently has none, but we visited the cave to switch it out for something harmless on my insistence. It should keep Dumbledore alive when he retrieves the fake version of the item he wants and will hopefully strengthen his trust in Snape even more as the cure will have 'worked'.''
''If there was no antidote to this awful potion,'' Ron wondered aloud. ''How did you exchange it?''
Helplessly, Harry shrugged one shoulder. ''I drank it.''
''You're a madman!'' The respect in Ron's eyes in response to Harry's confession of recklessness was probably not very healthy.
''It was either that or allowing Voldemort to drag in a random person as a sacrifice, who wouldn't have been allowed to leave that cave alive as they'd have seen too much,'' he stated. Fear and revulsion flickered across his friend's face, which Harry couldn't blame him for. ''That was his preferred method, and I only talked him out of it by promising he could teach me more about this army of Inferi. I knew there'd be a good chance that he'd wish to go to the extreme by making me create one myself if he got the chance, which is why I was very glad you'd asked to use my cloak before.''
''If you wouldn't have had a safe way to cross over, you couldn't have resurrected a corpse in the first place,'' Ron concluded, looking down at his hands with renewed shame.
''I should have known he'd just demand you to hand it over,'' Harry grumbled. ''Should have warned you.''
''I guess you did create one of these Inferi then?'' the other tentatively inquired, peeking up. ''Was it really such a terrible experience?''
''Not by itself, no. I'd mainly wanted to avoid it was because obviously, one needs a corpse first, and I can't justify murder for the sole purpose of resurrection. I hadn't fully believed Voldemort would respect that wish due to the promise I made. It turned out he did, but instead, he summoned the skeleton of his ex who'd died in that cave about fifteen years ago for me to raise from the dead. Not really a better alternative, and about a minute after, I blasted it into the afterlife again after it got too creepy with declarations of love towards Voldemort.'' Stated like this, Harry thought that maybe he hadn't flipped out enough about it. However, his anger over it had mainly been halted by knowing it was also his own fault for calling Regulus' soul in the first place.
More staring, now accompanied by a deafening silence for an uncomfortable span of time. ''Whoa whoa… hold on. He has an ex?'' Ron stammered at last.
Incredulously, Harry asked: ''That's the part you find shocking? What, thought I'd be the only bloke crazy enough to date a Dark Lord?''
''Kind of? Yeah? And I don't think that's unjustified, as you just told me that his ex' corpse was lying in You-Know-Who's creepy cave of doom.''
''They didn't have the best break-up,'' Harry confessed, shuffling a bit back and forth. ''Believe it or not, but Voldemort's ideas weren't hardcore enough for him. When this guy found out that the whole 'placating Pure-bloods about Muggle-born hatred' was propaganda that Voldemort didn't believe in himself... Worse, that he's a Half-blood… His ex basically did a one-eighty and tried to kill him through any means possible, which included going to this cave to get his hands on the same item Dumbledore is after. He succeeded in retrieving it and sent it away with a House-elf, but as luck would have it, the elf never found a way to destroy it and it's back in Voldemort's hands now.''
''You two have the craziest lives. Truly made for one another,'' his friend faintly commented. ''Always on the run from murderers and betrayal, it seems.''
''Not always, I have you, don't I?'' Harry grinned, trying to bring a bit of light after this grisly topic.
''Course. And Hermione,'' Ron confidently stated. ''Have you heard more from her yet?''
''No, only that one vague letter shortly after her departure, which only said she's safe and will have a lot to think about. The fact that we can't reply probably accounts to why she hasn't written more. I'd really love a visit, Voldemort kicked her out before I could have a single proper conversation with Mione after spilling everything. Should have used those few hours before visiting the werewolves I suppose, but I thought we'd have a lot more time and didn't want to push her. She… she didn't appear thrilled by mine and Voldemort's relationship. Said to his face that he didn't deserve me.'' Biting his lip, Harry stared off into space. ''I wish I would have talked to her before.''
After weeks, Hermione's absence had really become a glaring hole that was eating at him, and he knew Ron felt the same. There were so many things he wished to discuss, and it left a very bitter taste that she'd been the only person he'd truly been able to confide in before about his relationship insecurities, before she'd known exactly whom he was interested in. Her sage words about love had led him to finally accept his romantic feelings for Voldemort. Her advice had given him the courage to take leaps he might not have dared otherwise, and her enthusiastic efforts had even made him find the perfect birthday gift.
''I wish she was here too, mate,'' Ron sighed, stretching and lying down on the floor that had been warmed by the early sun of June. ''Maybe she can come over when Sirius and I have the new place all set up. You-Know-Who didn't seem to want her here, but he can hardly forbid us from allowing her in our new home, right?''
''I'm still shocked that he's leaving the both of you 'unsupervised','' Harry snorted. ''Since Remus didn't agree to move in, you know. It looks like he's banking on you to be the adult and keep an eye on Sirius instead of the other way around. He's started to think quite highly of you now.'' As Ron had shown commitment ever since arriving and put in efforts to help, the Dark Lord's opinion of Ron appeared to have shifted from 'annoying reckless Gryffindor hardly worth a glance' to recognising why Ron – in Voldemort's words – 'deserved' to be Harry's friend. Harry disliked his partner's way of testing people to see if they were valuable, but Voldemort being on agreeable terms with Harry's best friend had eased the tension a bit.
Now if only Ron would stop alternating between calling Harry's life partner 'You-Know-Who' or 'your boyfriend' and pick something more appropriate, that'd be grand.
Ron laughed nervously. ''I doubt he'll listen to me. No, I think You-Know-Who is trusting in his own spellwork above all.''
Begrudgingly, Harry was inclined to agree. The other factor about this planned move that came into play was that Voldemort had been itching to put some of his plans regarding bubble dimensions into action too. After refining the one they lived in and studying a couple dimensional folds created by other mages in the past centuries, the next step was to make specific connections. Since he needed another bubble dimension for that anyways, one preferably close by to observe from the outside, it made for a perfect opportunity to have that one be inhabited by the people he'd wanted gone since forever.
''I don't quite agree with the whole plan,'' Harry stated. ''Would much rather that you and Sirius both stayed here indefinitely. Or at least until your names get cleared in some way so you aren't wanted anymore. We've got enough space for it, as the past weeks have proven, and you even started working on warding with Barty. Seems unfair to shove you off to a neighbouring house. If there's an emergency…'' Sure, Voldemort had said the whole point of this test was to try out different ways of connecting specific dimensions and they'd thus have something like a stationary portkey between the two places, but what if it wasn't stable? What if something attacked them and they couldn't reach the Portkey fast enough? They'd be out of sight, out of hearing range…
''Hey, just see it this way: You'll have a new hangout spot decorated exclusively in Gryffindor colours to keep all the snakes out,'' his friend grinned. ''And like I said before, we could invite people over who are jittery around your boyfriend. Hermione, Remus… Basically just them as everyone else would be too dangerous, but you know what I mean, right? Not that I want to leave you, but I also have to admit to being a teensy bit happy by the thought of privacy.''
Harry couldn't really blame Ron for feeling this way. Whenever Voldemort was home, the man was admittedly very pervasive. Even when working upstairs, everyone else automatically quieted down, didn't freely discuss everything they might wish to. Ron had quickly learned how good the man's hearing was when Voldemort had casually commented on conversations that had taken place when he hadn't been anywhere near them, and Sirius often complained that Voldemort's mere presence made the house feel cold and sticky. To Harry, it had the exact opposite effect as he loved simply lying back and breathing in his partner's enveloping magic. Barty was much the same in that regard, but it was clear that it had a very different effect on everyone. Despite knowing that, the thought of Ron and Sirius moving out was saddening. They'd become a part of life in Riddle house and sharing meals always felt a bit like gathering with family. Was it only Harry who'd felt that way?
Maybe he was being too selfish. He'd already been given a family, quite officially with the paperwork to prove it. The Malfoys - Narcissa especially - welcomed him warmly each time he stood on their doorstep. Metaphorically of course, the Ministry could get wind of his visits and throw him in Azkaban if he were to actually use the front door.
''I'll visit often,'' Harry thus commented, knowing his protest would only make Ron feel guilty over things he couldn't control. As much or little Ron and Sirius agreed, it was Voldemort's decision to throw them out in the end. It felt a little strange to have no say in who came and went, since he now considered Riddle manor his home as well, but then again, that had been the case with Hogwarts too. The school year would have been much easier if every student who considered the castle their home could have put Umbridge on the streets.
''It's not like we're moving out tomorrow. That a suitable empty place in Little Hangleton has been found doesn't mean it's liveable yet. I asked Sir Crouch about how long it'll take to set up all the necessary wards and he estimated it'll be a good two weeks.''
Harry hummed, pleased to hear it. At the same time, he wondered if he dared ask Barty how this house had been acquired in the first place. Little Hangleton seemed like such an unmoving town that it felt unlikely one of its inhabitants would just leave and sell their old house to the next-best bidder. Maybe it was for the better if he didn't get the full story.
Having little else to do, they spent the afternoon studying whichever spells they felt like. Ron at last managed to get a hang of switching to-and-fro his Animagus form without ending up with a pile of tattered clothes needing mending, whereas Harry concentrating on healing, using a dummy Barty had provided that was so lifelike that Ron's face grew green each time he saw the thing being cut open.
''You sure grew a stronger stomach,'' his friend commented when Harry once more inflicted a new curse on it, the gleaming eyes clouding over as it was 'blinded'.
''When it comes to medical issues, nothing has ever been able to beat grossing me out as much as seeing my own arm boneless after Lockhart had been through with it. That fleshy mess was just… urgh.'' He shivered lightly.
''Okay, fair. Pretty sure I had a nightmare the following evening about how he bent your wrist backwards.''
''Don't remind me.''
Ron grinned. ''Speaking of reminding you of horrible events, don't you have a dinner to get to?''
Eyes growing wide, Harry looked at the time and cursed. ''I didn't notice it was this late already! Lucius will throw me those small disdainful stares all evening if I arrive later than what he calls 'fashionable'. Damn it, where did I leave my good robes…'' Speeding around the house, Harry quickly washed his face, pulled out a pair of robes that were good enough for the Malfoys and futilely tried to flatten his hair. By the time he was done, his body was covered in bruises from bumping into things in his haste and his out-of-breath face likely wasn't looking very presentable either.
''Sure I can't convince you to join at least to one of these dinners?'' Harry almost begged with a painful smile for what felt like the hundredth time. Ron only leaned against a doorframe and waved him away with a shit-eating grin. It reminded Harry far too much of Barty.
''Dallying with You-Know-Who is one thing,'' his friend said. ''That one I might be able to explain in time. Having dinner with the Malfoys? I'd be followed by mum's Howlers the rest of my miserable and extremely short life.''
''Are you trying to rival Voldemort for the title of drama queen?''
''Am only stating facts mate. Have a wonderful evening.''
Groaning, Harry activated the second Portkey he now carried on his body. For an item supposedly so illegal as a non-registered Portkey, people sure liked creating them often enough.
He landed in his own bedroom, which looked rather untouched. There wasn't a speck of dust and yet it felt distant. He should personalise this place some more as well… there hadn't been much of an opportunity for doing so after staying here for barely two weeks over the Easter holidays and packing up most belongings again afterwards in the expectancy of staying at Hogwarts for another term. Now, most items of importance either adorned his half of the bedroom in Riddle house instead or had been left behind in the Gryffindor dorms – such as his lovely Firebolt. He looked around once more, the thought striking him how jealous Dudley would have been to know Harry lived in such a place. Not only that, but he technically had three bedrooms now, one more than Dudley had ever owned. He shook off the morbid thought, as Dudley's only remaining bed was a coffin now, and made his way over to where dinner was sure to be waiting.
More voices than usual drifted from the open door. As Harry hurried into the dining room, he noticed it was unexpectedly full, counting thirteen head. Surprisingly, was Barty among them, looking rather annoyed. The rest was a mix of Death Eaters and family friends, most of whom he'd met at least once at the Ostara Ball, if not on a few different occasions such as Daphne's and Astoria's parents or Yaxley.
''Just on the fifteen-minute mark,'' Lucius announced, giving Harry a critical one-over. From the comment, Harry couldn't deduce whether his timing was still acceptable or not, so he silently took the only free seat near the head of the table, wedged between Barty and a dark-haired man in his forties who seemed vaguely familiar. At least arriving late meant not having to rack his brain about the seating arrangements. Although finally educated about all the rules of hierarchy by now that one needed to determine such, Harry knew neither everyone's exact age nor whether they were an important member of whichever branch of whichever family. That most of them belonged to an organisation that had additional ranks based on merit did nothing to simplify it, as Barty would never have been allowed to sit right next to the Head of the host's family, getting priority seating over the spouse and children, if not for the fact that he was the Dark Lord's right hand man.
For once, Harry was quite glad for all these complicated rules, as he'd seen far too little of Barty lately. After a customary short greeting to all guests and his guardians, Harry turned to the other, who instantly appeared in better spirits. ''Thought you were visiting Greyback?'' Harry whispered curiously.
''We did. Didn't stay long as Greyback annoyed me pretty fast,'' the man replied on a perfectly normal tone that told Harry it was fine to openly speak of. ''Got nothing against werewolves, really, but Greyback was either whinging about money, whinging about territory or whinging about power. Naturally, all in between gossip I don't give a fuck about. I swear, that man's loose tongue is going to get him in trouble faster than his hunting practises. If he wasn't so respected by his community for being one of the few who can keep that bunch from tearing into each other's throats all day, they'd have strung him up for airing their dirty laundry. Affairs, theft, insults… he doesn't even condemn any of it or try to solve the issues, only makes sure everyone knows. Must be exhausting, living there.''
''Can't anyone who doesn't like it just up and leave? Greyback mentioned something about the reservation being a way for the Ministry to put werewolves together to hide them away, but I know from Professor Lupin that living there isn't mandatory.''
Barty threw him a funny look. ''You weren't always well-off or well-connected,'' he pointed out. ''Surely you of all people should know how hard it is to leave without having a better place to go to? Most werewolves don't have money or property, are isolated from other people, can't get jobs, … The few solitary wolves in Britain live day-to-day on the streets. These packs are one of the few places to get at least a semblance of normalcy, a community life.''
''Are there many?''
Shaking his head, Barty spoke: ''Greyback's is the largest. Not officially his and the Ministry has no idea he's even there, but his weird charisma and appealing ideas made most werewolves flock to that village. Two other small packs remain, consisting of four and six werewolves respectively, which are hardly worth mentioning as they have no significant impact.''
''I see… did you happen to spot Umbridge? Any news?''
''Saw her moping around looking all miserable,'' Barty spoke with no small amount of glee. ''I expect getting trampled and bitten by a pack of wolves must have shocked the life out of her. If she's like this before the first transformation I can't wait to see what she'll be like afterwards.''
Harry hummed, aware that he probably should feel more guilty about it. For the first time, Harry wondered if his emotional link with Voldemort worked both ways as well. Had his own feelings been diminished over time? Or was it simply that Harry knew Umbridge only faced the consequences of her own actions and did not deserve pity?
''You okay kid?''
He was saved from having to lie as various elaborate dishes appeared, as talking while eating was only encouraged during breakfast for reasons Harry had yet to guess. Before he could reach out to put anything on his plate, Narcissa cleared her throat and rose, a glass in her hand.
''Dearest family and friends,'' she spoke serenely. ''We wish to express our gratitude for living in blessed times and for being part of something grander. In honour of the Dark Lord's ranks growing by the day and his message spreading far and wide, my husband and I hoped to once again introduce a custom long buried to hide from those who have long decried our ways of life. I propose that from this day forward, we once again take a few moments of our precious days to thank Magic for her gift to us. To reflect on the blessings we've received and gather in prayer.'' Her blue eyes shone as they travelled across the faces of each and every one of them. When resting briefly on Harry, her smile grew a hint warmer. ''Our faith is true,'' she stated proudly. ''It is high time that we no longer hesitate to show this.''
''Well-spoken, my beloved,'' Lucius agreed, a much colder glare cutting down any disagreements before they could be voiced. ''Surely none of us who were alive for the Dark Lord's first victories have forgotten the rites of our childhoods. It is our duty to teach the next generation. Sir Crouch, would you do us the honour of being the invocator?''
Glancing to the side, Harry wondered whether the request would be denied. Knowing bits about the man's family, he doubted the Crouch household had prayed to Magic during Barty's childhood. Hopefully, this was not an attempt from Lucius to undermine Barty's position…
His friend did not look concerned in the slightest though, getting to his feet and motioning for Narcissa to take her seat again so he was the only one left standing. A bottle of wine opened and slowly filled everyone's glasses with a flick of his wand, Barty picked his own up and holding it up in the air.
''Lady of life, who protects hearth and home
Thank you for this bounty.
We are grateful for your blessing,
all we have and all we need''
Harry hurried to pick up his glass when everyone else did so, though when a chorus of voices joined Barty's, he was relieved to note Draco looked just as curious as he felt, unable to speak along to the lines being chanted by the rest.
''May your strength live in our souls
be here and everywhere adored
A chumhnadh, A chomhnadh
An oidhche, Agus gach oidhche''
When the unfamiliar word echoed through the room, a warmth welled up in his chest. What kind of spell had been spoken? What had been its purpose? Harry did not have the opportunity to ask, for as soon as the prayer ended, everyone started digging into the delectable food that had been on display for too long to ignore. Having grown used at least to the types of dishes served at the Malfoy household, Harry unapologetically claimed a good portion of what had quickly become some of his favourites: Laverbread, lamb stew and a variety of filled pastries. He felt almost like an impostor however, when concentrating fully on not screwing up any of the dining etiquette as he didn't wish to stand out. In the past weeks, he'd improved a bit, but so far Lucius had always found something to call him out on, be it Harry forgetting to fold his napkins appropriately after using one or taking a wrong spoon. His friend threw him a few bemused looks and more than one grin. It was easy to remember in times like these that Barty too had grown up in a Pure-blood household, even if he didn't act the part most of the time.
Dessert turned out to be something he hadn't had before, a buttery cake with layers of dough and a caramelized top. Although Harry loved cooking, he didn't think he'd even dare attempt recreating what looked like a tricky recipe that would take years to master.
''Wouldn't mind having that every day,'' he sighed, leaning back feeling satisfyingly full when the last bite had disappeared from his plate. ''Maybe I can ask Voldemort to bake that sometime.''
The amicable chattering that had started as soon as the first person had finished their meal died down instantly, only a nervous giggle bordering on hysteric breaking the abrupt silence, originating from whom he thought to recognise as Mrs Parkinson – Lucius' sister, he remembered - , who sat near the far end of the table. Harry only raised an eyebrow at her.
It turned out it wasn't her he needed to worry about however, for two seats to Harry's right, Amycus Carrow leaned forward with a face flushed in anger. ''Do you dare suggest the Dark Lord does manual labour?'' he asked aggressively.
''Manual labour?'' Harry asked bewildered. ''I'm talking about baking, surely a man is allowed to have hobbies. You- you all do realise he's human and doesn't sit ominously on a throne like a statue all day?''
''Harry dear, let's save this talk for another day,'' Narcissa tried to suss the situation.
Amycus wouldn't have it, wand snapping in hand and jumping up. Across the table, his sister looked on with much better concealed emotions.
''Our Lord thinks highly of you, your new family has graciously accepted you in their midst despite your past and blood,'' the man continued with a face like a thundercloud. ''Yet you dare besmirch His name by suggesting he is but a common man? You think the privileges you enjoy for having a handsome face make up for indiscretion?''
Face heating up at the accusation, Harry snapped: ''Oh excuse me, next time he gives me a plate of fresh biscuits I'll make sure to tell him he isn't allowed to waste time on what he enjoys doing!''
''You're really making life hard, kid,'' Barty sighed while the other Death Eater gnashed his teeth. ''Amycus, calm down. It's not your place to dictate what activities are appropriate for our Lord to partake in. If He would feel insulted by Evan's request, I'm sure He'll show that displeasure directly.''
''You're acting as if the boy would actually dare ask the Dark Lord such a question, it was clearly meant as mockery! This cannot stand, Crouch!''
''If you're so hot on manners, Carrow,'' Barty suddenly growled, familiar anger showing as his mood was flipped upside down. ''That's Sir Crouch for you. I may also remind you of our Lord's clear instructions, given in this very house: Evan's worth, power or loyalty is not to be contested. Furthermore, I won't stand for jabs that suggest Evan only earned a place by our Lord's side by flaunting his looks. Do I make myself clear?''
Pressing his lips together, Amycus' wand snapped back into the leather holster strapped to his arm. Harry had never seen such a thing and wondered why it wasn't more common. ''My… apologies, Sir Crouch… as well as to Mr Potter,'' Amycus spoke, although he didn't look any less skeptical. On a slightly friendlier tone, he asked: ''Would you truly ask Him to… to bake for you?''
''Err… well, yeah?'' he answered, feeling exposed and embarrassed over one comment being blown so out of proportion. ''I'm really not sure why there's so much surprise. He's baked sweet bread in front of Lucius and Mr Yaxley too.''
''Creating a ritual loaf in a cauldron is hardly the same as expecting a Lord of Magic to serve up dessert,'' Yaxley argued, visibly uncomfortable. That mood was reflected by everyone it seemed. Draco was subtly shaking his head, likely in an attempt to signal Harry to shut his mouth.
''I don't see how,'' he stubbornly replied, ignoring Draco's warning. ''But like Barty said, if Voldemort finds the suggestion as absurd as you lot, he can always deny me.'' To get the topic away from this ridiculousness and hopefully make Amycus stop giving him funny looks, he instead asked: ''I thought you and your sister were teachers at Hogwarts now, by the way. May I ask what brought you here instead of having dinner in the Great Hall?'' The question was directed at Alecto too, so he nodded at her. Being the older sibling, it would have been rude to only ask her brother about something concerning both. Harry's discomfort increased when noticing how accustomed he'd grown to these kinds of rules just by interacting with Pure-bloods more regularly…
''Teachers aren't bound to the castle,'' Alecto replied calmly. ''I much prefer spending my weekends anywhere else than under McGonagall's nose. Knowing very well whom we serve, she isn't silent on the snide remarks. With Severus on the surface having to pretend in front of other teachers who are loyal to Dumbledore that he was forced to give us the positions we now have, our first week at Hogwarts did not… go swimmingly. In my opinion, they shouldn't resist and complain so much, not with the dire lack capable hands,'' she scoffed. ''Binns would surely not have been any help in taking over work, nor would they have found a different replacement for Umbridge on this short notice alone.''
Her brother gruffly agreed. ''We decided to leave dear Minnie hanging for a couple of days to make her realise how much time we actually saved her in the past days and how much we'll be missed when she has to handle patrolling by herself again. Lucius' invitation was perfectly timed. We heard you kids need teachers?''
Puzzled, Harry looked over to his guardian, who gave a smug little smile. ''We thought having not one, but now three reliable teachers at Hogwarts would be an excellent opportunity. We've had difficulties finding yourself and Draco some examiners.''
''E-Examiners?'' Harry asked, choking on his pumpkin juice, scrambling to grab the correct napkin to wipe his mouth with under Lucius' stern gaze. ''What for?''
''Surely you must know the exams at Hogwarts start a week from now. We have already discussed both your grades and the necessary results for your O.W.L.s. As I am a member of the Hogwarts Board of Governors, I managed to get copies of the written exams ahead of them being administered,'' the man spoke, looking truly pleased with himself. ''Now, we have enough tutors who can observe and imitate the practical exams as well. Meaning that you and Draco shall both have the opportunity to test your knowledge as any other student would.''
Under the many scrutinising looks cast by the Death Eaters all around, Harry felt himself growing rather warm. Opposite him, Draco didn't look surprise at all. Bastard had probably spent the past weeks doing nothing but studying, whereas Harry… Well, it wasn't true that he'd completely neglected his studies, but both Voldemort and Barty were far more interested in showing him magic far beyond the scope of what a fifth-year-student was typically taught. Combined with the fact that many evenings had instead been spent locked in discussions, refining plans for Dumbledore's future and keeping up to date with any scrap of news on his partner's efforts all around the continent, Harry wasn't all that confident in being able to recall all he needed to to pass exams which focused very specifically on all he'd learned at Hogwarts in the past five years. Last time he'd opened a book on potion theory had been a month ago… Practical spells were one thing, remembering tiny details about past wars and ingredient properties something else entirely. It wasn't possible to do without cramming, for which time was clearly running out.
''May I ask what use taking the O.W.L.s has if they won't be recognised…?'' he inquired. ''I'm not returning to Hogwarts. I don't know if I can ever return to Hogwarts to finish my education.''
''They shall be recognised by the Dark Lord,'' Lucius confidently announced. ''Once he rules and your name is cleared, you may naturally return to Hogwarts. To make your educational track as short as possible, it's far more advantageous to take your O.W.L.s now rather than in several years when you may have forgotten necessary information. A clean cut from O.W.L. to N.E.W.T. level without having to repeat any years. Surely you must agree this is the only right decision to avoid staining your reputation?
It was as if stones had filled up his stomach. Sure, he'd always known that staying at Voldemort's place was not meant to be a relaxing holiday, but he'd really not signed up to deal with exam stress on top of it all. Lucius' argument was rather weak in his eyes since none of them knew whether Voldemort openly taking over the government would even happen within the next few decades. Harry attempted to weigh his options, then quickly came to the conclusion there were no options. The Malfoys were his guardians and in charge of his education. If Harry would staunchly refuse, he would come across as being disobedient and weak. That he'd expressed both to Lucius and Snape before that the Dark Lord was putting high hopes on Harry's O.W.L. results and had personally spent many nights tutoring him was just the cherry on top. Refusal would lead to disappointment, only the thought of which made his throat close up.
''Of course,'' he replied, trying to hide his nerves. ''I was only… surprised. When…?''
''Most courses have practical tests that need to be observed before replication is possible as they differ each year and are kept a secret until that moment by the Ministry examiners. I expect a two-day delay. Alecto, Amycus, would that work for you?''
The siblings exchanged a glance, then Alecto shook her head with a small frown. ''Sorry Lucius, we'll be monitored constantly during the week. Leaving each evening during both exam weeks would be far too suspicious. I suggest the kids take the theoretical test on the same day as the Hogwarts students – also to prevent them getting some of the questions mailed to them by friends who know their location, and we will visit on the weekends after for the practical tests of that week – asking them to perform similar spells as were assessed by the Ministry officials.''
Having had no-one inside the castle to act as a spy in the first place, Harry was greatly amused to see his brother's face cloud over with displeasure. Had Draco thought to hear all the questions from Astoria or Pansy, in order to look up possible answers before taking the exam himself? A very Slytherin method, which clearly a fellow Slytherin who'd tutored for a large part of her life had noticed being a possible loophole. At the very least it would put Draco and him in somewhat of the same boat.
''What if I have other duties on those days?'' Harry questioned. ''Voldemort has made it very clear I am to be closely involved in some of his plans which are supposed to unfold over the next months, possibly even the next couple of weeks depending on how fast the people involved move. The theoretical exams shouldn't be too much of a problem if they take up only a couple of hours each day, but I may not even be in the country on some of the following weekends.''
''I'll talk with our Lord about it. I'm sure he'll be adaptable when it comes to your future,'' Lucius dismissively stated. Next to Harry, Barty quietly snorted, looking innocent when met with a frown, not making any indications of wishing to comment further. Harry knew very well what comments Barty was biting back though. Voldemort may be ingeniously innovative and flexible regarding spellwork, he wasn't known for altering set plans in favour of anyone else's schedule, so Lucius had better hope Magic was smiling down on him.
Well, that wasn't Harry's problem, he supposed. No, he'd better worry about the fact that the first day of exams was literally one week and a few hours from now. He'd likely have to pull several all-nighters to have any hopes of passing.
''May we get the schedule of the theoretical exams up front, Father?'' Draco asked. ''I'd like to use my revision time as wisely as possible.''
Lucius indulgently promised to check up on the schedule during the Board meeting planned for the very next day. At least knowing what subjects would be quizzed when gave back a semblance of control that halted Harry's growing panic, as he wouldn't have to wildly study every subject at once.
Having already stood out enough, Harry held back from joining the conversations that followed, instead listening to whichever issues were brought up. The Carrows described their current troubles in Hogwarts and discussed all the ways in which they attempted to reduce the previous teachers' damage. Mr Yaxley, his wife, and the man to Harry's right – Theodore's dad - lay out details Harry hadn't previously known, about a silent smear campaign several Wizengamot members had started of their own volition against Fudge's ineptitude. On the far end of the table, Mrs Greengrass and Mr Parkinson were discussing a trading deal for medicinal plants, whereas the Malfoys and Barty exchanged information they'd gathered about the current state of the werewolf supporters, both in Britain and abroad.
Finally, Draco asked to be excused from the table and almost dragged Harry along, who only grudgingly left. ''They all sound so enthusiastic,'' the Gryffindor commented when settling in one of the smaller sitting rooms upstairs. It was dark and warm, filled with bookshelves and glass cabinets that displayed expensive artwork. Harry pensively stared at a large painting of a lightning storm that flashed up occasionally. ''About the future, about their roles. All much less stoic than what I've seen so far, including talks with the Slytherin members of the D.A. whom I'm on a first-name basis with.''
Draco shot him a pitying smile. ''You have your hilarious moments, Scarhead,'' he commented. ''Most of our peers haven't found their place yet. I regretfully admit to counting myself amongst that group. Until we carve out a comfortable spot in society, strict rules and expected decorum form the support we can lean on within our circles. Stepping outside those bounds can only be done among family or very close friends. You weren't counted among those groups until very recently for some, still aren't for most. On any more recent occasion, you were accompanying the Dark Lord, whose mere presence demands a return to that mindset to avoid overstepping any boundaries. Everyone downstairs knows each other well enough to talk openly though. Such talks after dinner are not uncommon. And of course they're enthusiastic. Just look at what has all been achieved so far! The Dark Lord has formed two armies right underneath our enemies' noses, our support grows every day. Death Eaters have infiltrated both the Ministry and Hogwarts. We're winning.''
''I understand, it's just that… I suppose after being around people for so long towards whom I either needed to constantly justify my choices or hide them, it's refreshing to hear Voldemort's plans discussed as something to look forward to, when he isn't even there. Wouldn't have minded listening in a bit more. Why did you bring us upstairs instead?''
''Listening to other people all evening isn't my idea of a good time. I grew tired of not having a voice, so lounging here is preferable. How are your preparations for the O.W.L.s coming along?
Harry threw him a funny look. ''Not at all,'' he glowered. ''You may have noticed that today was the first time I heard that we'd have to take them at all. Most of the spare time I had to study magic, I spent on new healing spells or practising duelling, neither of which are helpful to pass any of my O.W.L.s''
''Wouldn't know about that,'' Draco shrugged. ''I wouldn't be surprised if Amycus demands a duel to show our proficiency in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Pansy wrote a few days ago to report he's teaching the class in a more hands-on manner, very alike your methods during the D.A. sessions. And as far as I know, you have to use theory of both Charms and Transfiguration for advanced Healing. So don't look so glum, I'm sure you'll pass your O.W.L.s.''
He grew apprehensive at this sudden encouragement. It wasn't like Draco at all to dish out compliments without expected something in return. ''Where does this come from? I thought you'd love it if I got bad grades to make yours stand out.''
''Any other year I would have,'' Draco unapologetically admitted. ''You always appear to forget that I am responsible for you now. We're both Malfoys, capiche? If there's too much of a difference between our results, Mother will assume I haven't helped you at all.''
''You haven't.''
With a haughty expression, Draco replied: ''She doesn't need to know that. After all those extra hours of tutoring you got, you might be on my level when putting in enough effort. Any more and I'd have to worry you surpass me,'' he chuckled. ''So, consider my faith in your abilities a form of support and do well. Not too well.''
''You can be very freaking exhausting.'' On another day, Harry might have started an argument about it, but as it happened, he also needed something from Draco and couldn't afford getting on a bad foot with his brother. Not feeling like beating around the bush, he said: ''Forget about exams for a minute. I've got a question. Maybe a stupid question-''
''No no no, don't start with that,'' Draco groaned, waving his hands frantically. ''Never start a sentence by belittling yourself or what you wish to say. Confidence Potter! I know you have it when you want to, so stop with the fake self-deprecation. Ask away.''
Awkwardly, Harry tried to stop himself from apologising, as that would only make it worse. ''Okay… so you and Astoria are engaged, but don't want to announce it to the world yet until it's kind of a more done deal, right? What do you do for gifts? Have you given her any jewellery that doesn't scream 'we're engaged' like rings would? I kind of tried to fish for hints with your mother last week but all she mentioned was getting rings whenever ready, which would kind of defeat the whole purpose. Since this society is so riddled with at times ridiculous customs, I figured it'd be better to have some idea about Pure-blood customs before buying like, a bracelet and later finding out one only gifts bracelets to parental figures.''
Draco gave him a withered stare that Harry couldn't interpret. ''You know that I know about your not-so-secret relationship. Please don't say you are asking me for advice on what to gift the future ruler of our country. I'm not going to risk my neck.''
Rolling his eyes, Harry said: ''Why is everyone so melodramatic today. I'm only asking what's the norm. And possibly where to buy something. It's not like I'll write him a note saying 'Draco told me to buy this so behead him if you don't like it'.''
''Might as well,'' the blond muttered under his breath. ''I suppose I must count myself flattered that you came to me for advice at all. It shows you do have something lurking in that skull of yours that resembles intelligence.''
''Oh Merlin, if you're going to act like Snape I'm out of here.''
''Alright, alright! I'll be less mean and not step on your sensitive toes again. Okay?''
Harry wondered how Draco always managed to be so insulting without cursing even once. It was impressive, in a way.
''I'm listening,''
Before Draco answered his question, the Slytherin summoned the family House-Elf and, as if they hadn't just stuffed themselves at dinner, asked for an arrangement of desserts that Harry already knew he wasn't going to touch. ''In all seriousness now,'' his brother started when having a butterbeer in one hand and a cauldron cake in the other. ''Giving gifts is of course an important part of social relationships. Moreso when it concerns ties that will connect families. To be on the safe side, it's best to start small with useful items that connect to their interests instead of jumping to something as personal as jewellery. It signifies a closeness that the other party might not appreciate.''
''It's meant to be personal,'' Harry clarified. ''I've talked to him about it before too. Technically, I can get him 'anything but a ring', but figured I'd first check if there's certain things that wouldn't be considered appropriate.''
Draco subtly raised his eyebrows in response to Harry's comment. ''Where to even start,'' he sighed, which did not bode very well. ''Good that you've already scrapped rings off your list as that'd have been my first point. Apart from that, the most common mistake made by Half-bloods who enter Pure-blood circles I've seen is gifting necklaces. No matter the type, be it a torc or a carcanet, adults are gifted these exclusively by their spouses. Before you're of age, it's not uncommon to buy a necklace for yourself or ask family for one as a birthday gift, but if an adult suddenly shows up with an unfamiliar necklace and there's no spouse in the picture, you can bet there'll be endless speculations about a secret marriage. You may get away with gifting a new pendant for variation in an existing necklace, which is probably useless information for you considering I've never seen your- what do you even call him? Suitor? Tell me it's not 'boyfriend', please,'' Draco grimaced
''We generally stick to 'partner'.''
This seemed acceptable, as Draco didn't pull another strange face. ''Never seen you partner wearing anything of the sort. Apart from that, no type of jewellery would be off-limits per se, but it depends on the situation and the people involved. Gifting brooches is considered old-fashioned, so unless you want to point out his age, I'd advise against it. Neckties and cufflinks have become modern fashion within the Ministry as of late, but its Muggle influence can't be denied. With the traditional robes he usually wears, I doubt it'd go over well.''
''How about you tell me what I can buy rather than what I can't?'' Harry asked, getting impatient.
''It's important to know why you can't,'' the other answered with a hint of a sneer. ''As I will absolutely not put myself in the position of recommending a specific piece, it's far better this way. Stop complaining.'' Sighing, Harry leaned back and crossed his arms until Draco resumed his speech. ''Onto bracelets… a safer choice and perfect for many occasions. For men, metal armlets are the popular choice. Charm bracelets can work as well, depending on how tasteful the charms themselves are. However, it will be unclear to outsiders who the gifter is: it might be a close friend, a cousin or a fiancé. For all anyone knows, the person might have bought it for themselves. I'll leave it up to you whether that is a downside or not. The same goes for earrings, which has become my standard birthday gift to Astoria, in answer to you first question. She absolutely loves any type of ear decoration and keeps getting me earrings as well to hint that I should get my ear pierced.'' Did Harry imagine the tiniest hint of fondness that crept into Draco's scowl? Maybe he did. ''Meaning I can't show any of my gifts off until I'm of age. I can't imagine asking my parents to get piercings done. Father would faint in shock.''
''It sounds like you will,'' Harry pointed out.
''Of course I will! It's the one wish my fiancée has expressed about my appearance. I'll get to it as soon as I turn seventeen. Besides,'' Draco huffed. ''She does have an excellent taste in jewellery. You know, since this is about exchanging presents, I must ask if he's gifted you anything of the sort. It's typical for the older partner to set the pace with these kinds of matters.''
''Err, not sure if it counts, but he's given me new glasses,'' Harry said, touching one of the end pieces, feeling the slight pattern of scales underneath his fingertips. ''That was before we were together though and mainly because he figured out my old ones had the wrong prescription. The topic of giving him something like a token of our relationship mainly came up because of my scar,'' he admitted, feeling his cheeks flush. ''When I pointed out he's marked me in a way, Voldemort quite seriously handed me a dagger and told me to scar him as well…'' From the way Draco's face turned a hint of green, Harry was relieved to find this was not normal even by Slytherin standards. ''I suggested buying jewellery as an alternative. He hinted at a tattoo but that's just… no. Maybe in a few years.''
''Can't say I'm surprised at that suggestion. He did design tattoos for his followers as well,'' Draco pondered. ''Are you sure? There are artists who can create moving ones that respond to your mood or certain spells. Then again, I find it hard to imagine the Dark Lord casually strolling into a tattoo and piercing parlour… Oh, we haven't talked about other piercings yet!''
Over the course of the next hour, Harry learned more about jewellery than he'd ever thought he'd want to know. Draco's knowledge about it was astounding, far more extensive than he could have even hoped for. After prodding some more, Harry finally figured out why, Draco reluctantly admitting that his secret wish was to design and sell his own. Since both 'craftsman' and 'shopkeeper' were positions not worthy of a Malfoy, his parents didn't support this choice, so Draco was set on following in his father's political footsteps instead.
'It's a shame,'' Harry said, inspecting a charm bracelet Draco had crafted from solid silver. They'd ended up hanging out in Draco's bedroom, which was surprisingly not neat at all, walls covered in posters and banners and most of the flat surface area occupied by hundreds of trinkets the Slytherin owned. ''This is really good. Do you really need to settle on one profession instantly?''
''You have no idea about quality,'' Draco scoffed, snatching the bracelet from his hands again and safely stowing it away in his desk. ''And of course I need to! It's all about connections, how would I ever build up the network I need for political support if I waste away in a shop!'' In the words, Harry could hear an echo of Lucius' voice.
''Voldemort managed it,'' he commented casually, satisfied when Draco's eyes widened. ''He worked in an antique shop for a couple of years after graduating you know, as a simple assistant. Doesn't seem to affect his current reputation at all.''
''You're pulling my leg.''
''Not at all. Look, I may not know crap about jewellery-''
''Clearly, you really don't,'' Draco muttered.
''-But I'm just saying that maybe you're being too hasty with giving up on your dreams.''
Silently, Draco looked him over. ''You always find a way to convince people, don't you?'' he remarked quite seriously. ''I can see now how you even wound a Dark Lord around your finger.''
''Draco? Harry?'' The question was accompanied by a rapid knocking, and after Draco made sure the drawer of his desk that hid his treasures was locked again, he opened the door.
''Mother, is something wrong?''
''Not at all,'' Narcissa reassured. ''Our guests have returned home for the evening. Well, all apart from Sir Crouch, who is waiting to leave with Harry. Lucius and I have one last thing that we need both of you to be present for however.'' The teens exchanged a glance at her mysterious smile. The subtle spring in her step as they followed her downstairs betrayed excitement.
When arriving on top of the stairs leading down into the entrance hall with a wide arch, Draco uttered a bored ''Oh. Again?'' Noticing he was looking at something, Harry peered over the railing too and saw a long bench with velvet green upholstery had been put in the middle of the hall. Behind it stood one of the largest vases he'd ever seen, filled to the brim with spectacular flowers. ''I didn't even have time to put on my best robes! And look how Harry is dressed!'' Affronted, Harry looked down at his perfectly acceptable robes, some of the best he owned apart from his dress robes, bought for him by the Malfoys themselves.
''Stop complaining, my dragon,'' Narcissa amusedly spoke, turning around to straighten Draco's lapels. Harry had to hold in a snort at the endearment, but his brother's venomous glare over Narcissa's shoulder told him Draco had guessed his line of thoughts. When satisfied with her work, she guided them both to the bench. ''Harry, would you prefer sitting next to Lucius or to me?'' she asked.
''Er… you?'' he asked, wondering what the hell was even going on.
''Excellent!'' Looking even more pleased than before, she ensured Harry was wedged between herself and Draco, who was still looking utterly bored. ''Now we only have to wait for- Ah, darling! Can we start?''
The next few minutes passed in a blur. Harry saw everything that happened as if viewing it through a lens, like the lens of the large camera that was put on a tripod in front of them.
''I'm sure you know how this works, yes?'' Narcissa whispered into his ear. It sounded as if his head had been dunked under water. ''Smile, Harry!'' The hand that rested reassuringly on his arm squeezed briefly. With an exasperated sigh, Draco slung an arm around Harry's shoulders. He didn't know if he managed to smile, still feeling too overwhelmed even after the camera had flashed several times.
When the House-elf carried the device away again, Narcissa exclaimed: ''Oh, I can't wait to see how these will turn out! It will get a central spot in the living room, what do you say, dear?'' Lucius smiled at her, sneaking an arm around his wife's waist and briefly pecking her on the lips.
Draco made a disgruntled sound. ''We had pictures taken six months ago!''
''Not any of the whole family,'' Lucius calmly stated, which appeared to finally be enough for Draco to stop moaning about it. He glanced briefly over to Harry, the only one who hadn't gotten up from the bench yet. ''Is something wrong?''
Before he could get a word in, Draco scoffed: ''Maybe leftover trauma from the Creevey brothers, they followed Harry around with a camera non-stop at school for a whole year. Even sold pictures of him sleeping. Calmed down a bit now but by Merlin, were they annoying. Right, Harry?''
''It's nothing'' he lied, voice suddenly very croaky. ''It's not Colin's fault,'' he defended then, realising too late how these two statements contradicted each other. Avoiding their concerned glances, he gazed at the marble floor, only looking up when heavy footsteps approached and two mud-smeared dragonhide boots came into view that definitely did not belong to any Malfoy.
''Come on kid,'' Barty cheerfully said, hauling Harry to his feet. ''It's getting late. The Dark Lord will be in an unbearable mood if you stay away any longer than you have. Mr and Mrs Malfoy, always a pleasure.'' For once, it didn't sound sarcastic, as if his opinion towards the 'cowardly traitors' had at last shifted to a more positive view.
Some awkward goodbyes later, Barty held out a hand. ''I'll side-apparate you,'' he explained, which Harry briefly thought was a bit odd as both his own Portkey and Barty's Dark Mark would bring them through the wards instead of having to walk all the way up to the house first, but he had no time to comment on it. Sure enough, one nauseating trip later, they stood in the pocket of distorted space in front of the gates of Riddle House. Before Harry could step through the entrance that would bring him home, warm arms pulled him into a tight hug.
''Barty, what-''
''Those filthy Muggles left you out of family portraits, didn't they?'' Barty growled, sounding just as choked up as Harry had felt. Any further protest died in his throat, so he only hugged back as hard as he could.
''Every year they'd go out to take family photographs, leaving me at home'' he confessed, burying his face in Barty's shoulder. ''They put them on every wall and made me clean them twice a week. None of them showed evidence that I lived there too. I-'' he swallowed heavily, holding on tighter. ''Of course I later took pictures with- with Ron and Hermione but-''
A heavy hand patted his back. ''Shame they're dead already. You deserve this, you know? Real family.''
Harry didn't answer, unable to affirm this with confidence as a fact. Barty took him by the shoulders and gently pushed him away so their eyes met. His face was difficult to see between the blur in Harry's eyes and the darkness of night. ''I mean it. Now clean your face, if the Dark Lord sees you so distraught after returning from the Malfoys, he'll act first and ask questions later. I doubt you wish for them to be put six feet under over misinformation.''
With a startled, breathless laugh, Harry wiped his eyes dry on his sleeve, taking a few breaths to calm down. ''You're so right. Is that why you insisted on apparating outside of our dimension? So he wouldn't feel me yet?''
''We both know how he is. Better, now?''
''Much,'' Harry smiled, reasonably sure he wasn't falling apart anymore. With a concentrated expression, Barty's thumb dried the last spots Harry had missed and muttered a spell that eased the feel of puffiness in his face.
''Maybe we should all have a photo taken too,'' Barty grinned. ''You, your godfather, the Dark Lord and I. Now that's one heck of a family portrait.''
Harry finally found his regular laugh again, the idea of Voldemort agreeing to share a frame with Sirius Black too hilarious for any trace of sadness to remain. ''Don't forget you'd have to pose close to Nagini,'' he pointed out.
The resulting grimace was worth a thousand pictures.
Harry really thought he could escape his exams by quitting Hogwarts, didn't he? Too bad one of his guardians is on the school board.
Thank you all very much for the support :)
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xx GeMerope.